#instead of the likely scenario of it giving him ptsd

[pisces-swirlix]

Okay DBD fandom. Bear with me, this is stupid as hell, but I’m laughing uncontrollably on the floor of my room and I have to share.

For context, there was this show I used to watch: Galavant. It only ran for like two seasons back in 2015, but it was awesome. It was like this fantasy/comedy/musical type thing. I was recently reminded of its existence when I randomly heard one of the songs.

It was a song that they did in the show sang by this evil witch. When the main character meets her, you find out she owns this tavern, and it’s full of all these muscly dudes, so you’re like “oh he’s about to get the shit beaten out of him.” Long story short, no. The witch owns a gay bar, and instead of beating him up, they proceed to do a musical number titled “Off with His Shirt.”

I don’t even know if I have to elaborate more on this, but I’m cracking up at Charles and Edwin meeting Desire and it being exactly like this.

[waynewifey]

aftermath — b.w

part one - ‘dear mr. wayne’

part two - ‘aftermath’

part three. - ‘aporia’

summary: you escaped that warehouse, but part of you died in there. now, your husband helps you grief your own loss while trying to not murder your relationship.

pairing: bruce wayne/battinson x reader

genre: drama & angst romance

warnings: mentions of sex and alcohol; mentions of ptsd, anxiety and it’s symptoms; hospital setting; dubious science; dubious law enforcement

word count: 2.9k

A/N: thank you for all the positive feedback on part 1! there will be a part three because this post would get too long, so let me know if you’ll like to be tagged in that. my biggest challenge writing this was trying to give bruce the start of a redemption arc, please tell me if you think it worked. comments and constructive criticism is appreciated!

gotham, USA.

the continuous beeping sound wakes you up.

your eyes are still closed, blocking the intense light over your head. your senses are taken by the familiar scent: sandalwood, cinnamon and lemongrass soap. it almost feels like you're home.

but your feet are senseless from the cold and the bedsheets faintly smell like chlorine. there's a pinching ache in your arm and the scenario is complete. oh how you hate hospitals.

"how are you feeling?" back at home, bruce had learned the difference in your breathing as you woke up, which made pretending to sleep hard enough for you to give up. you open your eyes, finding yourself in a luxurious room. if it wasn't for the IV on your left side, it could easily be mistaken for a five star hotel.

bruce sat at a large light green armchair, about four feet from your left hand. you couldn't tell by his voice, but he looked exhausted. for once, he's wearing sweatpants. the puffy face and swollen eyes show he hasn't had much sleep. you, on the other hand, feel like you've slept for a thousand years.

"i have no idea. what's up with me?" his sigh has your heart racing and the fear of being a liability falls over you. a comforting hand lays on yours, his warms fingers grounding you to remember the last time you were awake. it felt like a nightmare and you desperately hoped it was. instead, the pain comes in flashes, the image of your husband being shot and the feeling of hitting ice cold water do too. it's all just so horrible you wish it wasn't real.

"they told me you were going to be fine, but i don't know." bruce feels as if a burden has come off his chest finally seeing you move. the last couple of days have been a torture of expectation and blame for him. "the doctor had you in an induced coma. you had a concussion on the river. your stomach was stitched up. he said..." he stops for a moment, this is obviously way too hard for him to go through again. bruce hasn't left the room ever since he was discharged. everyday, for two weeks, he kept overthinking the night before and the day during. if he had stayed up and talked about your relationship, you wouldn't be in that bed. if he looked for you in the morning, if he noticed your absence at work, if he hadn't put his phone on silent mode... there were a million of things that he could've done different so the most important person in his world wouldn't have gone through all of that. "he said the ptsd would worsen your recovery. this morning the nurses told me you were better, so i have to believe them. that's my only hope."

you need a moment to take in the words, finally deciding that you didn't want to discuss your health. there were way better people to pay attention to that in the building and it would only make you anxious. you can't help but stare at his eyes, your mind bringing up the image of your husband choking the man that kept you hostage.

"you almost killed him." the tone is of disapproval, bruce couldn't be any more confused. he frowns. bile arises from his stomach leaving a acid taste to his mouth.

"i would've, of course i would. y/n, you had no idea what i would do for you. i would fight the devil himself if it meant keeping you safe. that's why i do what i do. the batman, the politics, it's all for you. if i can make this world 1% better for you, for our children, to live on, it's worth it." his gulp is loud, adam's apple going up and down, showing how dry his throat was. the following words have his voice shaking, almost disappearing. "but fate keeps telling me that i'm not enough. no matter what i do, you keep getting hurt and i just-" bruce stares the floor. that's something he always did when saying harsh things, avoiding eye contact and not letting tears slip away. however, this time it doesn't work at all. he can hear his heart tearing up with every syllable, the physical pain striking his chest. he wants to beg you to forgive him, but there is a noble thing to do. his words are cut off by the creaking of the door and the doctor's footsteps. he's smiling, like this isn't hell. bruce shrinks into the couch, making himself ignorable.

"so... i have good news!" the blonde says, clipboard in hand. "we need to run some other tests and an x-ray, but you seem to be healing pretty well. we'll hold you in for a couple of days just to make sure there aren't any complications with your body and then you can go home. how are you feeling so far?"

you're surprised by the sudden change in the conversation and your brain needs a moment to think about something helpful. you do a body scan trying to identify any pain, but overall you feel good.

"hungry. like, starving." the doctor smiles, saying he'll get you a meal as soon as possible. he warns you that you may not be able to eat much just yet, something about your stomach shrinking. you nod, already feeling irritated by the recovery process. then he leaves and there's a loud silence until you get back on the previous topic.

"you just what?" you expect bruce to sit correctly again, but he doesn't. he looks so small in the shadows, so comfortable. you really don't want to talk about that anymore, but curiosity takes over. he doesn't respond immediately, so your heart pounds over the anxiety of hearing bad news. suddenly you feel so tired, you want him to take over all the decisions like he usually does. today, though, he seems open to suggestions, like his own ideas weren't suitable. how could you know someone so well but still have no idea what's on his mind?

"i think maybe you shouldn't be associated with me. any part of me." the world stops with your breathing. bruce wishes he could take it back. going over this conversation in his head made it seem easier to say out loud. you've been married for three years. you knew his ambitions for even longer. you chose this life and he has no right to take that from you. still, the ring on your finger weighs you down.

— DENIAL

you've learned to appreciate the winter winds. at the top of the wayne tower there were barely any, but tonight they caress your face with the gift of numbness. breathing in is both refreshing and painful. the scratched teacup warms your fingers, a small memoir from your childhood home, from times that won't ever come back. you used to be down there, frightened by dark alleys and gunshots. now you're on top of the world and nothing, not even that psychopath, can take that from you. you did relearn discomfort. ache. cold. it all made you appreciate life even more. in fact, the month that followed your hospital discharge was pure bliss. something about renewal, about rebirth.

bruce watched you from the living room, the wrinkled glass distorting your silhouette in the balcony. that was a good representation of how he currently saw you, slightly blurred and shaken. his cup would usually hold whiskey, neat, but it holds coffee instead. you keep saying you're fine and waking up screaming in the middle of the night. then he would hold you and you would be actually fine. so now he's staying awake through the night, sleeping three or four hours during the day while alfred takes care of you. of course they don't let you know, because you've denied every explicit help. as you get ready to sleep, bruce gets ready to stay in bed through the night, alone with his thoughts. part of him was scared to sleep. he was sleeping when you were taken, there's no way he would let that happen again.

it has been almost a year since he stopped patrolling the city. the news cover murders and robberies every day. alfred makes sure to come up with something for both bruce and you to do at those hours. he's taken a pause in promoting his candidacy, he couldn't handle the public eye for now. still, the marketing team insists that your kidnapping was good media, even though he never officially spoke on it. they publish notes about being away, about taking care of family. he can't see how that could be good in any way.

you open the glass doors, flashing your husband a sweet smile. you're in a red silk robe and your hair is still perfectly done. perfectionism was one of the side effects, as one may call it, of the trauma. you visited a psychiatrist about a month ago, since bruce insisted on it, and he marked all of the habits that made you happy as unhealthy. you never told bruce what was said in that appointment in hopes that he'll get over it. him treating you like a porcelain doll made you nauseous.

"ready for bed?" you ask, standing behind the couch and hugging his shoulders. you breathe in his scent, remembering the day you met. you were an executive in an overseas wayne enterprises headquarters that had just gotten transferred to gotham. they offered you six figures to take the second in command position, so you obviously got to know the first in command. in the beginning, you honestly thought he was an entitled brat that didn't work at all. overtime, you realised how much he cared about the company and how much he was pining over you. you gave him an opening and he asked you out. six months into the relationship, he told you about batman. he knew, somehow, that you would be forever.

he sets in bed while you're touching up in the bathroom. the night had to be perfect. you've hadn't made love ever since the fight and ovulation week had gotten you a little crazy. you check yourself in the mirror, thanking the hormones making you sexy. you crawl into his side, slower than needed, hair falling over the shoulder. "hi" you whisper, sitting diagonally from him and cuddling a bit. he says hi back, with a chuckle. you give him a little peck, which is all you've been doing for all of this time. he stays still, not pulling back but also not doing anything either. you try to take it as a good sign. your lips then reach his jawline and neck, leaving wet kisses all over his skin. your hands touch his shirt and go underneath it, tracing your fingers along his defined abdomen. a hand holds your arm, pushing you away. your smile fades and you frown your face to him.

"touch me, bruce" you not so much ask, it's more like a plead. he sighs, channelling all his will to stick with his decision. he puts a string of your hair behind your ear and you think he's going to properly kiss you.

"i don't think we should do this. you're not well enough yet." he doesn't sound so certain, but it hits you like a hard brick wall. this is harder for him than he lets it show, he's a man after all. even so, he can't see you like that for the moment. he sees you scattered and feels like it's his responsibility to assemble you again.

"i'm perfectly fine." you state like a grumpy proud child who's just lost a soccer tournament. he sees right through it.

"you're not, you're in denial." that simple word makes your mood swing: denial. it's the same thing the stupid psychiatrist told you. you can even hear his smoker's voice echoing in the office. it isn't true. you got over it, that's all. maybe some people take more time to do so, but you did just like that. you had a life to get back to.

you get off the bed and pull your robe tight again. "i'm sleeping in the guest room. good night." he doesn't follow and lets you be. in all honesty, he didn't know if he would have the strength to turn you down a second time.

bruce tries to fight the tiredness. even with caffeine running high in his blood system, he falls asleep for a while. the guest room is far enough that he doesn't hear the muffled sobbing. he wakes up not so long after with screaming. his heart races as he runs down the stairs, following the sound of your voice. his mind starts thinking the worst, but he finds you only having nightmares. he crawls in bed with you, without being kicked off. he lets you lay on his chest, one arm over your shoulder. his body warms yours up and you finally stop spasming. it doesn't take too long for both to fall asleep.

— ANGER

the penthouse is quiet. the winter is almost at it's end, so the pre-spring rays lighten the living room bringing warmness to your solitude. you sit uncomfortably, unknown to this feeling of absence. you don't feel him in the tower.

bruce said there was a non deniable meeting with his press team, because eventually he would have to go back to promoting his election, which would take place in the fall. you acted unbothered. yet, he's barely been gone for an hour and you can already feel the anxiety crippling. you only left the apartment for doctors appointment, still too scared to walk on the streets. and he was always there, too, holding your hand. so this is different.

alfred is downstairs upgrading the batman suit with a new technology he created. he invited you, but the darkness of the cave was definitely unrequited. that's how you end up lounging, in silence, staring at window. finally, you decide to try to watch something. you shouldn't really do that, because something could trigger a panic attack. but you're fine, you really are. enough with this nonsense.

shuffling through the channels, nothing gets your attention until there's a juridical show on. the judge is talking to the prosecutor, apparently, announcing the next witness to testify. the camera angle changes to the courtroom and expectant eyes turn to the wooden door. it opens slowly to reveal a knight in dark armour. you hold your breath. the jury buzzes and the room gets loud. heavy steps make his cape swing behind him, as he makes his way to the stand.

bruce had to make a tough decision. while you and him had been cleared from the trial, you with the psychiatrist report on PTSD and him with the marriage, the lawyers mentioned that the batman's testimony could be decisive for the accused to be found guilty by the jury. the public respected him. either they loved or feared him. so, even though he's never made such a public appearance, less even speaking, he had to go to that trial. he owed it to you. but you could never know. he didn't want to spark your interest in the case, you shouldn't have to go through it again. he lays his hand on the constitution and swears on it.

it doesn't feel real until you hear the judge.

"members of the jury, i present to you the batman."

it feels like a dagger has gone through your chest. there's a mix of feelings that have you almost throwing up. you feel like screaming and crying and blowing the fucking world up. how could he do that to you? that was your case, your life. you stand up only to find your legs trembling. you want to run there and testify. you want to tell the world the horrors you've been through and show them, including your husband, that you had overcome it. he was calling you weak right in you face and you couldn't bear the feeling of being chained up again. you're stuck in this hell of a tower like some futile damsel.

you stomp your way to the elevator, your mind set on leaving the building. but your heart stops you in your tracks pounding and almost vomiting itself out; you feel your toes numb and your legs can't stop shaking. the baritone voice still sounds in the apartment. you run to it and scream at the TV. you throw a pillow on it. that doesn't cool you down. your body is in motion while all you can see is red. you knock the coffee table down, shattering the glass and scattering like ashes the books that were on it on the floor. the noise still doesn't muffle his voice and you can't find the fucking remote control. you stumble across the room, throwing lamps and vases around. everything is falling down, in every sense. you grab a candle and let out a scream when you hit the TV with it, the screen going black and the noise finally ceasing.

alfred finds the room trashed, with you kneeling on the broken glass. there's blood on the floor. your body trembles with every sob. he cautiously steps towards you. you feel out of breath, tears burning your eyes. he holds you like a mother does.

"i'm sorry- i'm so sorry," he shakes his head, saying it doesn't matter. you wanna say it does, but there's simply nothing leaving your mouth apart from "i'm so sorry"

part three - aporia

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Arc Reactor

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7,680ish

Summary: You love Tony's arc reactor. But what if it's the thing that can cause you the greatest pain?

Warnings: torture, unwanted touching, transplants, ptsd

Notes: Wow. I have not be able to write this much in a short amount of time in such a long time. It feels good. I hope people enjoy this one. It's a long one. Sorry if there's any errors, I really wanted to just get it out.

Tony and you were laying in bed. It was one of the few occasions that you could convince Tony to come to bed and he could actually sleep. This time, you were the one not sleeping much, content to run your fingers around the edges of his arc reactor. The glow allowed you to see the outlines of his face in the darkness. The softness of his features when they were fully relaxed reminded you about how much you love his wrinkles when he smiles. 

“You’re staring,” Tony grumbled after a while.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I’ll stop.” But you made no move to look away or to stop running your finger over the rim of his reactor.

Tony opened one eye to look at you. “You’re wide awake.” He moved slightly and opened both eyes to get a better look at you.

“Yes, we’ve seemed to switch positions tonight.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Just couldn’t stop staring at you… you’re very pretty.”

Tony chuckled. “Pretty?”

“You heard what I said.”

“Well, my dear, you’re prettier.” Tony scooted closer to give a peck to the tip of your nose. He pulled away and studied your eyes. “Are you sure the only reason you’re awake is because I’m pretty?”

You shrugged. “Sometimes I like watching you sleep.”

“Hmm.” He glanced down at your fingers that were running over his arc reactor. “Is it the light? I can put a shirt on.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Tony chuckled a little before the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about seeing if I can get rid of this thing.”

“What?” Your hand stopped its movements as his statement shocked you. “Is that even an option? The reactor is keeping you alive.”

“I’ve looked into some doctor’s that I believe could help me take the shrapnel out of me.”

“That’s… that’s…” 

Your eyes fell to the glowing reactor. This object was inside of your boyfriend’s chest, keeping him alive. It was an object that brought an odd sense of peace to you, especially when missions were hard and you didn’t think you or Tony were going to make it out. It was your personal night-light, connected to the most important person in your life. What would life be without Tony having a reactor in his chest? Would the suit’s work the same? Would Tony’s heart be okay? What if he didn’t survive the surgery? What if Tony—

“Honey,” Tony pulled you from your thoughts through his words and gently taking your face in his hands. He could tell that you were spiraling. You met his gaze. “I promise that I would do anything unless I’m a 100% sure it will work. I will consult every doctor, including Bruce, and I’ll have JARVIS run every possible scenario. Okay?”

“Okay,” you gave a slight nod.

Tony could tell that you still weren’t all in. “And I promise that, after collecting all the research, I won’t do anything that you don’t want me to.”

You sighed. “If it’s really what you want, I will support you.”

Tony gave you a tight-lipped smile before leaning in to give you a light kiss. “We can talk more about this in the morning.” He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. “We should sleep.”

You giggled. “Said Tony Stark. The Sleepless Wonder.”

“Well that’s a new one.” 

Sighing, you snuggled into Tony. “Goodnight, Tones.”

“Goodnight, my dear,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Love you.”

~~~

The talk of removing Tony’s arc reactor failed to me talked about more in the morning. Instead, the two of you continued your lives like the talk hadn’t happened. Well, except for the fact that Tony had started pulling together research on doctor’s and procedures. 

Weeks went by and you barely remembered the conversation anymore. Tony and you were just living your lives: trainings, meetings, lab time, date nights. Life was good.

“How big do you think this mission is?” You asked Natasha as the two of you walked to the conference room.

“Well, since everyone’s being called in for this, I’d say pretty big,” she responded.

“Great… Just what I want to deal with.”

Natasha laughed. “It’s been a while since we’ve all be called out together, it might be nice.”

“It’s only nice for you because your boyfriend isn’t as overprotective as mine.”

“I don’t know, the Hulk can be very protective.”

“Yes, but Bruce isn’t. Tony is overprotective all the time.”

Natasha opened the door to the conference room. “I guess you’re right, since your boyfriend saved you a seat and mine’s standing in the corner.”

You let out a laugh as the two of you entered and found your seats. Tony shot you a smile as you sat down behind him. “Thanks for saving me a seat,” you whispered.

Tony turned in his chair and reached over to take your hand, bringing your hand up to press a kiss to the back of it. “Anytime.”

Steve quickly got started with the briefing and Tony didn’t let go of your hand through it all. It was a big mission, everyone was needed. The plan was to take down a major HYDRA facility located near the North Pole. You and Tony were tasked with entering the facility, wiping the drives and placing the needed explosives. The rest of the Team would be outside as the distraction since it was clear that the facility was not empty.

“Is everyone clear about their assignments?” Steve asked. He looked around the room to see the multitude of nods and ‘yes’s heard. “Alright. Pack up and rest up, we leave late tonight.”

Everyone stood up but Tony and yourself. Tony’s thumb was rubbing the back of your hand. You could tell that he was nervous, he always was when it came to you going on missions. Once everyone left, you rolled your chair closer to his.

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, trying to pull him from his anxious thoughts.

“Just… something doesn’t feel right about this mission,” Tony admitted. He wasn’t usually one to feel this way, it was usually you. 

“I’m sure that it’s just my normal nervousness getting to you.”

“No,” Tony shook his head. “That’s not it.” He turned his chair and looked you in the eyes. “This mission isn’t going to end well.”

“When does any mission?”

“I’m not joking, Y/N. I… I think we need to stay back.”

“We can’t, Tony. The whole Team is needed. I’m sure that we’re just switching roles again. You haven’t been this nervous about a mission in a while. It was about time.”

“I guess you could be right…” He sighed. “We should get ready.”

“Yeah.” You leaned in and gave him a kiss. You could tell that his anxiousness about the mission wasn’t going to go away until you were all back in the safety of the compound. “I love you.”

Tony pressed out a smile for you before kissing you. “I love you more.”

~~~

Tony was an anxious mess the whole flight. He choose to fly the quinjet to help ease his nerves but that caused the flight to not be as smooth as it should have been. Everyone kept eyeing you, trying to get you to do something but you knew that taking him away from the controls would be worse. 

“Is Stark okay enough to do this?” Steve whispered to you as you finished getting ready in the back of the quinjet. “I haven’t seen him this bad in… well, in ever.”

You sighed. “He has a bad feeling about this mission. I’m starting to as well.”

“It’s too late to back out now.”

“I know. I’ll keep a close eye out on him and let you know if we need back up in there.”

“Please. We don’t want to lose either of you just because Tony’s not fully focused.”

“I can handle him, Steve. Trust me.”

~~~

“Y/N! I need you to hurry, we have more company coming!”

“Well if you hadn’t lost the damn drive, I wouldn’t have to erase everything manually!”

You were frantically typing on the facility’s main frame, trying to erasing everything as fast as you could. Tony was just outside the room, shooting down any HYDRA agents that came your way.

“I told you this mission wasn’t going to end well!” Tony shouted.

“It’s not over yet, Stark! Focus!”

Suddenly, you heard a loud explosion come from the hall. It shook the place, causing you to fall to the ground.

“Tony!” You shouted, pushing yourself up to rush into the smoke filled hallway. “Tony!” You coughed as you tried to search for him through the thick, gray smoke. “Tony!” You pressed a finger to the comm in your ear. “Captain, can you hear me?” No response. “Anyone? I need backup. Now!” Again, nothing.

Hearing footsteps, you grabbed the guns from your thighs and held them up. You took a few careful steps, still unable to see much, before you tripped. You rolled over whatever you tripped over as gracefully as you could then turned to see if you could tell what you tripped over. You gasped as you saw the familiar gold and red appear through the smoke. You crawled closer to see that it was Tony. He was completely passed out with an EMP attached to the chest of his suit.

“Tony!” You exclaimed as your hands took hold of his face. “Tony! Wake— Up!” You began to cough more and your eyes grew tired. It was clear to you now that the smoke wasn’t just smoke. “JARVIS?” You called, trying to see if the AI would respond. You needed to get Tony out of here, even if his suit did all the work. “JAR—VIS… Any… one…”

Feet stopped right in front of you and Tony before you passed out on top of him.

~~~

“Has anyone heard from Stark or L/N?” Steve shouted as he threw his shield at a group of HYDRA agents.

“Not at all!” Natasha responded as she fought.

“They’re taking too long,” Clint noted from where he was shooting arrows from a tree.

“JARVIS,” Steve called, “I need information on Stark and L/N and I need it—“

Steve was cut off by the facility exploding. The Team members on the ground were thrown by the blast as were many of the HYDRA agents left.

“Tony! Y/N!” Clint yelled as he tried to get them to respond on the comms. “Damn it!”

“Captain,” JARVIS came through Steve’s earpiece, “I am unable to locate or connect to Mr. Stark or Miss L/N.”

“What?” Steve responded. “Since when?”

“Since about eight minutes ago.”

“Call Fury, tell him to send in SHIELD agents. All of them. Coulson, Hill, everyone needs to be on this. We need to find them.”

~~~

You didn’t immediately open your eyes when you finally came to. You wanted to get any information you could on what was going on before HYDRA knew that you were awake. You were strapped to a leather chair. Metal cuffs were keeping your ankles, wrists, and neck in place while large bands ran across your stomach and thighs. You had been stripped of your suit, leaving you in biker shorts and a sports bra. 

The room around you was a cooler temperature. You couldn’t tell yet if it was whatever the room was made out of or if they were purposefully keeping the temperature lower. The only other thing you could sense was that there was someone else in the room.

Finally, you opened your eyes. The room walls were cement and you were sure that whoever was keeping you here was keeping the room at a cooler temperature. As best you could with a metal cuff around your neck, you looked over to the side of you. You gasped when you saw Tony and the state he was in.

Tony had been stripped of his suit and clothes, leaving him in his boxers. He was strapped onto a matching chair in the same way you were. The thing that concerned you the most was the wires that started at his partially destroyed arc reactor and went down on either side of him, along the floor, and disappeared into the wall. You also noticed that Tony had medical equipment attached to him and a nearby monitor, allowing you to see that his heart was still beating.

“Tony,” you rasped, your voice not really there from lack of use. You cleared your throat the best you could before trying again. “Tony.” He groaned in response, slightly moving. “Tony, wake up.”

“Mhm?” He hummed. “Y/N?”

“It’s me, it’s me.”

His eyes blinked open, slowing taking in his surrounding. He glanced over to you before looking down at his chest. “I told you the mission was a bad idea.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I’m sorry for not believing you. Are you alright?”

“For now. Are you?”

“I’m in better shape than you. Your arc reactor is damaged. You have wires running out of it to who knows where and you—“

“Woah, woah, woah, honey, breathe. I need you to breathe for me.”

“Tony, what if—“

“We are going to be okay, alright Y/N? We are going to get out of here.”

“Tony, I—“

You were cut off by the door opening. A smug, middle-aged man in a suit waltzed in with two armed guards behind him.

“Nice to see you both wake,” the man said. “And it’s nice to finally meet you both. Especially you, Tony Stark.”

“Am I supposed to know you?” Tony responded with his usual sarcasm. “College? A frat party? You know I was constantly drunk until recent years so—“

“You wouldn’t know me, Mr. Stark. But you sure knew my father, Obadiah Stane.” You noticed Tony’s jaw clench. “My name is Phillip Stane. My father had me in secret and didn’t want much to do with me until he realized that I was almost as smart was you. I went to MIT a few years after you, did everything my father wanted to make me like you. Then you killed him. HYDRA found me not too long later and offered me a deal. I’ve been working with them in secret.”

“What do you want with us?” You broke your silence.

Phillip chuckled as he walked between the two chairs. “You haven’t figured it out yet? My father raised me to be Tony. The only things that I’ve been missing is his suits and reactors… well, and his girl.” Phillip ran a finger along the side of your stomach.

“Don’t touch her!” Tony shouted.

“What are you going to do about it?” Phillip smirked. “You’re all tied up and so is she. Not to mention that the only thing keeping you alive is damaged.” He leaned over and looked at Tony’s reactor. “It is a beautiful piece of equipment. Too bad that it won’t keep you alive for much longer. Our facility here needs to run off the grid and your reactor is the perfect thing to do it. Before we make our own, we thought we’d test out the real thing. Just to see if it works.”

“That will kill him,” you sounded more scared than you would like.

“Oh? Will it? I guess that just a part of it. Call it revenge. Well,” he laughed to himself, “part of the revenge. Wire her up.”

The two armed guards moved around you. They grabbed wires that had clamps on the ends and placed them on your open skin and the cuffs and bands keeping you in place.

“I told you not to touch her!” Tony shouted again, trying to get free.

“You can’t stop me,” Phillip taunted. “And, if it makes you feel any better, I won’t be the one hurting her. You will.”

Tony’s blood ran cold. His eyes followed the wires that were attached to you and found that they lead to a small box of buttons near the wall. There were wires running out of the other side of the box and into his arc reactor.

“No. No. No!” Tony tried fighting harder, to at least get some of the cords loose.

Phillip cackled. “Your reactor will power this facility and torture your girlfriend.” He leaned down to Tony’s ear. “I can’t wait to see who gives up the ghost first.” He cackled some more as he leaned back and headed for the door.

“When I get out of here, I will kill you!”

“You won’t get out of here alive.” Phillip pressed one of the buttons on the box on the wall before leaving the room with the two guards.

Tony groaned as the power in his arc reactor began traveling through the wires. The power split up, some going to power the facility and some going to the wires connected you. You shouted out in pain as the electricity hit you. Quickly, you fisted your hands together and ground your teeth, trying to not worry Tony too much.

“Honey, honey,” Tony called, trying to remain as calm as he could. “You’re okay. We’re going to get out of here.” You groaned, clamping your eyes shut to focus more. Tony began growing emotional. He realized that this form of torture was meant to hurt, but not to last long for either of you. “Y/N… I love you and I’m so sorry… I’m going to get us out of here. I promise. You will not die in here. I will not let that happen…” 

You groaned again, this time louder as the pain was getting worse. Practically mirroring each other, tears ran down yours and Tony’s cheeks. 

“Ahh!” You couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Tony!” You cried out. “Ahh!”

“I’m right here, honey. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Tony could feel himself growing weaker and could see the light of his reactor dimming. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” Tony repeated through your screams and cries as the minutes went by agonizingly slow. “I’m with you. I’m here. I love you.” You suddenly grew silent, terrifying Tony. “Y/N? Sweetheart?” He glanced over to see that you were still breathing, but it was not well. You had clearly passed out due to everything. “I’m going to be right behind you, sweetheart… I can feel it.” The light in Tony’s reactor was dimming with each passing second. “I love you more than anything… I am so sorry about everything…” Tony was fighting to keep his eyes open as he began to felt pain in his heart. “Who knew? Tony Stark dies of a broken heart… Too bad it… won’t be a… headline… Y/N… sweetheart… I… love… you…”

Tony couldn’t fight it anymore. His eyes closed and the medical machine next to him let out a long and loud beep.

~~~

“Found them!” Natasha shouted as she burst into the room you and Tony were being kept in. She gasped when her eyes saw the damaged arc reactor. Her hands quickly went to his neck and wrist to check for a pulse. “Tony’s down! We need medical!” She rushed over to your side. She was revealed to find even the slightest of pulses with you. “We need medical for Y/N too! She’s hanging on by a thread.” Natasha quickly straddled Tony and began pumping his chest. “You are dying on me! Not today Stark!”

Steve and Clint rushed into the room with two SHIELD medical teams.

“Let me switch you,” Clint urged, as Steve pulled Natasha off of Tony. 

The medical team got machines hooked to you as they moved Tony onto a stretcher. Suddenly, the machines connected to you went haywire.

“She’s coding!” One of the SHIELD agents shouted. 

Steve was quick to come over and began compressions on you. “We can’t lose them! We need to get out of here, now! Coulson, how’s the situation out there?”

“We’ve caught the man who did this,” Coulson responded through the comms. “We’re on our way to the compound for interrogation.”

“I’ve got the quinjet ready for when you get here, Rogers,” Maria came over the comms.

“We’re on our way!”

~~~

The electricity had done some serious internal damage to you, while the shrapnel had entered Tony’s heart. That caused you both to be immediately taken to surgery when the Team landed at the nearest hospital. Everyone was terrified that neither of you were going to make it. But, deep down, they were even more terrified that one of you would and the other one wouldn’t. How would the one left react?

“Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper are on their way,” Bruce said as he reentered the private family waiting room the group was put in.

“Good,” Steve answered with a nod. “How long has it been since we’ve had an update?”

“Three hours,” Clint said. “It’s been seven since we’ve got here.”

“The will survive,” Thor stated. “They are both strong.”

Steve sighed as he ran a hand down his face. “Seven hours and they are both still back in surgery? Bruce, do you know any reason why it would be this long?”

Bruce shook his head. He had found a seat over in the corner, with Natasha resting her head on his lap, asleep. “It’s not good for either of them.”

A gentle knock sounded at the door before it opened, revealing a nurse and a doctor. The Team stood up, nervous to hear the update.

“Both Miss L/N and Mr. Stark are out of surgery,” the doctor stated. “But, they are both still in dangerous waters. We are looking into organ donors for both of them?”

“What for?” Clint questioned.

“Y/N needs a liver. Fortunately, we can take that from a live donor as we only need to take a partial lobe.”

“I’ll do it,” Steve stepped up. “I have the best recovery chance.”

“Thank you for your willingness, Captain, but we need to test you to see if you’re a match first.”

“Whatever, I’ll do it.”

“If any of you are willing to get tested, we can do that.”

“What about Tony?” Natasha asked.

The doctor sighed. “Mr. Stark’s story is different. Since the arc reactor was damaged, the shrapnel was able to enter his heart and tear it up so much that we aren’t able to fix it. He will need a heart transplant. We are recommending that he be taken back to the compound or a nearby hospital to it for a better chance of getting a heart.”

The Team was in shock. Both of their teammates needed a transplant, but two very different types.

“We are also recommending that we wait for Miss L/N’s transplant until she’s back at the compound as well. It will be easier for her to heal somewhere familiar.”

“I’m going to call Rhodey,” Bruce said, heading out of the room. He needed to leave the room because he could feel the Other Guy trying to push to the surface. 

“We won’t move them until they’re more stable, but are willing to work quickly to get them moved. Nurse Beck can take anyone who wants to to get tested for the liver transplant.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve said. “We’ll start putting things together.”

~~~

Just as Steve had hoped, he was a match and fought Natasha on giving the liver needed for the transplant. Steve won as his super soldier serum had him at an advantage for healing. Clint and Thor worked with the doctor to get the quinjet prepped for transport. You were stabilized first and placed in the quinjet. Natasha held your hand tightly as she studied you, unable to take her eyes off of you. 

Tony was brought up next, about an hour later, in much worse condition than you. That got Natasha to burst into tears. Bruce came over and held her close as she cried while Clint got the quinjet into the air. Steve sat between the two beds, constantly checking on either of you. It was his duty as Captain to protect his Team and he was feeling like a failure.

“Y/N told me that Tony had a bad feeling about the mission,” Steve whispered. “I should have talked to him and canceled it.”

“It’s not your fault, Rogers,” Thor told him.

“I’m the Captain of the Team. Fury has entrusted me with it.”

“That doesn’t mean their lives are in your hands. Stark and Y/N knew what they were getting themselves into. It’s part of their jobs.” 

“What if Tony doesn’t survive this? A heart transplant is much more critical than a liver transplant. If Y/N survives and Tony doesn’t…”

“We can’t afford to think like that. They will both survive.”

“Are you trying to convince me or you?”

“Both.”

~~~

The compound was ready to receive you and Tony as soon as you landed. Due to not having a heart yet, Tony was taken straight to a room where Happy, Rhodey and Pepper went to watch him. Steve and yourself were taken straight to the operating rooms. The surgery took six hours. You and Steve were taken to the same room, simple curtains splitting up each of the beds. 

Steve had been awake for a few hours by the time the doctor’s decided to try and wake you. The curtain between you and Steve’s bed was pulled back so that he could watch as the Team gathered around. They kept the curtain closed between Tony and your’s beds so that you wouldn’t immediately freak out. The Team waited with bated breath to see you breathe on your own. Slowly, your eyes began to blink open. 

The light bothered your eyes as they tried to focus on anything. You began to panic slightly when you couldn’t recognize where you were. Natasha’s red hair came into few and focus first, when her face slowly following.

“It’s okay,” she cooed, standing above you to try to calm you. “You’re safe now. You’re okay.”

“T—T—Ton—Tony…” you stuttered. “T—Tony…”

You noticed Natasha glance at someone across from her. You looked over to see Clint standing there. The look they were sharing did not bring you any comfort. You tried to swallow the roughness in your throat.

“W—Wh—Where’s… Tony?” You tried.

“Here,” Bruce handed Natasha a cup of water with a straw.

Natasha took it and held the straw to your lips. “Drink,” she told you.

You didn’t argue, knowing that you needed fluid. You took a few sips before clumsily waving the cup away.

“Where’s Tony?” You repeated.

“We’re so glad that you’re okay,” Clint said, clearly trying to change the subject.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Natasha said. “You had a liver transplant. Steve gave you part of his.” She motioned with her head over to Steve, who was laying in the bed beside yours. 

“What?” You questioned. “Steve… you didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did,” he responded.

“Thanks… for saving my life… all of you… But… No one has answered my original question… where is Tony?” The Team shared another bunch of unsettling looks. “What are you not telling me? What happened?”

“Y/N,” Natasha began gently, “what do you remember?”

“I remember being in the HYRDA facility and some explosion going off. I went out into the hallway and found Tony passed out on the floor due to an EMP. I was out not long later. When I came to… Tony and I were cuffed to chairs, stripped of most of our clothes. They had damaged his arc reactor and hooked up wires from it to the building and to the wires they added onto me. They used the power of his arc reactor to torture me and to run some power to the building… the pain… it was too much.”

“Do you remember who did this to you?”

“Yes,” you swallowed. “Phillip Stane.” You looked over at Pepper, Rhodey, and Happy. “Obadiah Stane’s secret son.”

“That matches with the information Coulson is sending in from interrogation,” Thor confirmed. 

You realized that Happy, Pepper, and Rhodey were awkwardly standing near the curtain divider. Listening carefully, you could hear more medical machines on the other side. Your heart rate began to pick up.

“Where’s Tony?” You repeated.

“Y/N, we need you to—“

“WHERE’S TONY?!” You screamed, not caring that you interrupted Bruce.

“Pull the curtain,” Steve ordered.

Rhodey nodded, taking the divider and pulled it across the room. You gasped as Tony came into view, looking worse than the last time you had seen him. Tears began cascading down your cheeks.

“Oh gosh!” You exclaimed. “Tony!”

“The damage to his arc reactor caused the shrapnel to tear up his heart,” Bruce carefully stated. “Due to that, Tony is in need of a heart transplant. We don’t know when—or if—he’ll get a donor.”

“What happens if he doesn’t get one?” Everyone remained silent. It was an obvious question but you couldn’t help but ask it. “He—I—He can’t—“ The machines you were connected to began freaking out. “I—“

Natasha quickly grabbed the oxygen masked and held it to your face. “You need to breathe, Y/N,” she coaxed. “In and out. Slow and deep.”

“I’ve been on the phone with all the local hospitals,” Pepper said. “Due to the state he is in, Tony is at the top of the list. The next available match will be his.”

“The doctor’s are prepared to do anything they can to help him stay alive long enough to get a heart,” Bruce added. 

“I—I can’t lose him,” you cried through the oxygen mask. “I… I can’t do it…” Your stats began to skyrocket.

“I’m going to give you something to calm you and help you sleep.” Bruce went to the cart by your bed.

“No,” you shook your head. “No. Please, I can’t—“

Bruce was quick to inject a liquid into your IV. You feel asleep almost immediately. “We have to keep her calm, especially as she heals.”

“She’s not going to remain calm while Tony’s in this state,” Natasha said.

“Then we may have to keep her sedated.”

“We must hope and pray that Tony gets a heart,” Steve said.

“Tony wouldn’t want someone else to die for him,” Rhodey said.

“He doesn’t have an option,” said Clint.

~~~

You were in and out of sedation for a few days due to the fact that you couldn’t remain calm. Every time you saw Tony and thought about the state he was in and that he may not survive, you panicked. You simply couldn’t handle the possibility of life without him. The Team was always coming and going from your room, someone always in there with you and Tony. Especially after Steve had been released just a day after your surgery.

Phillip Stane was still in lock up in the compound, but Coulson and Fury had made plans to move him to a high security unit. You had only learned that because you had pretended to still be asleep while Fury and Clint were watching over you and Tony. 

So far, there hadn’t been any matching hearts in the area for Tony. You could tell that the Team and staff were trying to remain positive, but every day you could see them lose that positivity more and more. You even knew that they were being more positive around you than they actually felt due to your continued reactions.

After about a week of you being in and out, you had finally calmed yourself to be released from the doctor’s care. That didn’t mean you were leaving the room any time soon though. You found yourself in a chair next to Tony, holding his hand. You barely spoke, even in the brief moments that you were alone with him. You didn’t have anything to say. All you wanted was your Tony back. You wanted his sarcasm and his wit. You wanted his romantic side and his soft, nervous side. You especially missed his arc reactor that you knew was no longer there under the bandages that were wrapped around his chest. His arc reactor meant that he was alive.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Steve shouted as he bounded down the med-bay halls, toward the room you were in. You turned to see him as he slid into the room. “They have one! There’s a heart on the way!”

“What?” You breathed out. “Are you serious?”

“Serious! The nurses are on their ways now to take him back to surgery.”

“He’s getting a heart?”

“He’s getting a heart.”

You turned to Tony, tears slipping from your eyes. “You’re getting a heart.” You stood up and kissed his forehead before resting yours on top of his. “You’re going to make it through… you have to… I love you… I love you… I love you…” You repeated it, like a prayer, remembering how he kept doing the same when the two of you had been captured. “I love you…”

“We’re here to take Mr. Stark,” a nurse said as they entered with three others.

“I’ll see you on the other side.” You kissed his forehead again as the tears came harder. Steve walked over and pulled you away, turning you so that he could hold you against him. You watched as they pushed Tony away until you couldn’t see him anymore. “He has to make it, Steve… I don’t think I could live if he doesn’t.”

~~~

Twelve hours. You paced the waiting room for twelve hours. No one was able to convince you to sit and rest. Thankfully, you did take food and drink. No one came out for updates, making you even more on edge. By the time the doctor’s did come out, you were shaking but wouldn’t let anyone help you.

“The surgery was successful,” the doctor said. You felt like you could breathe some. “We will have to see if the transplant takes, but we are hopeful.”

“He’ll make it?” You questioned.

“We’re hopeful.”

“Thank you, doc,” Steve said.

“We’ll let you know when Mr. Stark is available for visitors.”

As soon as the doctor left, your body gave out. Luckily, Steve was there to catch you. He hoisted you up and took you up to your room. He tucked you in and left, leaving JARVIS to watch you while you slept.

~~~

You groaned as you slowly began to wake. It took you a minute to realize where you were and where you believed you should be. You jumped out of bed and rushed down to the med-bay. Thankfully, no one questioned where you were going and that they had placed Tony in the same room as before. You were grateful to see that Tony wasn’t alone and that Natasha and Clint were with him.

“Hey there sleepy head,” Clint commented.

“How is he?” You asked as you went to sit beside him.

“So far there’s been no scares,” Natasha said. “The doctor’s are hopeful that they may be able to wake him later today.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

~~~

It was about eight pm when the doctor’s decided to try and wake Tony. You sat back, holding your breath as they pulled tubes and cleaned him up a little more. The moment Tony’s hand twitched and a groaned escaped his mouth, your heart leaped for joy.

“Y/N…” He groaned again. “Y/N…”

“I’m right here, Tones,” you said, standing up to be beside him. You took his hand and made sure that you could be seen by him when he finally opened his eyes.

“Y/N…” His eyes slowly opened, immediately locking onto you.

“You’re alive,” you cried. 

“You’re… alive,” he repeated.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, allowing your tears to fall onto his skin. “I was so worried.”

“Same.”

You let out a watery laugh before starting to ramble. “I’m sorry for not supporting you immediately when you said you didn’t want your arc reactor. It’s my fault. It shouldn’t have been—“

“Hey, hey, hey.” Tony shakily reached up and cupped your face. “It’s alright… I’m right here… None of it was your fault.”

“I was so scared.”

“I was too.” He groaned as he tried to move slightly. “Let me guess… new heart?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s Pepper? I need her to send a note and check to the person’s family.”

“I’m sure she’s already on it.”

Tony nodded. His eyes scanned what he could see of you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay…” You nodded. “Steve had to give me a part of his liver, but other than that, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure?” He didn’t believe you one bit. 

“I am. Especially now that you’re awake… I missed you… I love you so much Tony.”

“I love you more.” 

Tony pulled you down to kiss you. He savored the flavor of your tears that flowed down your cheeks and mixed into the kiss. He understood that this all was hard for you and would only continue to be. Tony didn’t even know how he was going to sit mentally since he had been awake for mere minutes. What he did know, is that he’d do anything to make sure that you’re going to get out of this alright.

~~~

It took two weeks for Tony to be released from the med-bay. He could have been released after one week, but everyone had agreed that Tony wouldn’t rest if he wasn’t under the careful watch of the medical personal. You rarely left Tony’s side. This allowed you both to see how the other was truly doing. 

Tony could tell that you were going back there every time you closed your eyes. Almost every night, you would end up curled in a ball at the end of his bed whimpering and crying out for Tony. Pulling you out of the nightmares wasn’t the easiest thing to do. When he finally was able to, you would close yourself off and say that you need a drink, leaving the room. Unfortunately, Tony couldn’t follow you but he had JARVIS track you. You often didn’t make it too far and would end up in a ball on the floor crying.

You, on the other hand, could tell that Tony wasn’t sleeping at all. Thankfully, you persuaded his doctor to help with that problem but he could only do it for a few days. Besides the lack of sleep, Tony was also barely touching you. It was like he was scared to. You didn’t blame him for anything but you knew that he blamed himself for everything. It’s what he did. Tony’s guilt always ran deep, especially if he dealt with someone he cared about.

Everyone on the Team could see that both of you were struggling. None of them wanted to impose until Tony was released, wanting to see if some would fix itself.

Waking hand-in-hand, Tony and you made your way to the common room where the Team had thrown together a small party for the two of you. It was a nice and easy party, letting you truly relax more than you had in a long time. You were sitting off to the side with Natasha. She was talking but you weren’t listening, just watching Tony across the room with the guys.

“Okay,” Natasha pulled you from your thoughts by tugging your arm lightly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Just tired.”

“Mhm… then why don’t you get Tony and head to your room?”

“Because, we’ll get there and neither of us will sleep and I will try to jump his bones because it’s been so long and I’m so glad he’s alive.”

“I don’t see the problem with that. The doctor cleared both of you.”

“He won’t touch me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hand-holding is really all we’ve done since he woke up. And I’ve initiated all those times.”

“But you’ve kissed, right?”

“The day he woke up… I know what’s going on, he’s blaming himself for what happened. Especially since it was the energy from his arc reactor that caused my injuries.” A few tears escaped your eyes and you quickly wiped them. “I’m just going to go to bed.” You stood up.

“Y/N…”

“Tell Tony that I went to bed, please.” You walked off.

Natasha sighed. She got up and moved toward where the men were gathered. “Stark,” she called.

“Sounds like someone’s in trouble,” Clint mumbled.

“What’s up, Red?” Tony responded. He glanced around. “Where’s Y/N? I thought that she was with you.”

“She went up to bed.”

Tony knew that you heading out without telling him wasn’t good. “Do you know why?”

“I think that you two need to talk, sooner than later.”

Tony nodded. “Thanks for the party. I’ve got to go.”

Tony rushed out of there, not caring what anyone was going to say. He needed to talk to you, especially if you left without telling him. When he reached your shared room, he carefully walked in and looked around. You weren’t in the main bedroom, so Tony looked to see light peaking out from under the bathroom doors. He walked over and leaned his ear near one of the doors. His heart broke as he heard your sobs.

“Honey?” He called. “Can I come in?”

Hearing Tony’s voice caused you to stand up straight and quickly wipe your face off. “In a second!” Your voice cracked as you responded.

“I know that you’re crying in there.”

You sighed as you went to the door and unlocked it. You twisted the door knob and pulled it slightly open, leaving Tony to do the rest. Tony pushed the door open and you suddenly launched yourself at him. You tightly gripped at his jacket as you bury your head in his neck and let the sobs loose.

“Sweetheart,” Tony whispered as his arms came around to hold you close to him. “I’m right here… I’m right here…”

Tony held you as you sobbed. His hands ran up and down your back as he tried his best to comfort you. After a few minutes, your sobs began to die down to painful hiccups. Without a word or letting go of you, Tony moved the two of you over to the bed, guiding you to sit down next to him.

“Talk to me, honey,” Tony urged.

“I can’t close my eyes… every time I do, we’re back in that room. And I—I can’t breathe and I watch you die and I… I…”

“I’m feeling a similar way. Every time I close my eyes or look at you… it’s all my fault. All the pain you went through… I caused that.”

“No,” you shook your head as you pulled away from his neck to look at him. “You did not cause me pain.”

Tony pressed his lips into a line. “But I did. It was my arc reactor that gave them the power to torture you.”

“But you didn’t hook me up to the wires. You didn’t do that. You tried to fight for me. You kept me going with your words as they tortured me… You didn’t hurt me, you kept me alive, Tony.”

A tear slipped out of one of Tony’s eyes. He looked up to try and control his emotions. “I was so helpless… They were hurting you and I couldn’t do anything to stop them… I never want to feel that way again.” He looked at you. “You are my everything… I promise that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again… I will never hurt you like that again…”

“Oh, Tony,” one of your hands went up to his cheek to wipe some of the trailing tears. “I promise that I will never let anyone hurt you like that again… I hated seeing you like that.”

He leaned in and kissed you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more.”

~~~

Slowly, the two of you began to work on putting yourselves (and each other) back together. Tony found you both a therapist, deciding it’s what you both needed. The two of you talked more openly with each other and worked on sleeping in your bed instead of staying up in Tony’s lab working (which had become a big problem for both of you). Tony had began to keep a hand on you anytime he was near you, which you didn’t mind. You knew that it was how he was coping with everything now. 

Two months since Tony woke, you and him were laying in your bed, trying to fall asleep. Your fingers were lightly trailing Tony’s scars on his chest. You sighed as your fingers found his arc reactor scar and began trailing it.

“What is it?” Tony quietly asked upon hearing your sigh.

“I miss it,” you admitted.

“Miss what?”

“Your reactor. Especially on nights like this. Its faint glow would help me sleep.”

Tony stated quiet, clearly thinking about something. After a moment, he kissed your head and pulled himself away, getting out of bed.

“Where are you going?” You sat up.

“Just stay right there. I’ll be back.”

Then Tony disappeared out of the room. You sighed as you threw yourself back on the bed. What could he possibly be getting? It wasn’t long before Tony returned with a familiar glass box.

“What are you doing with your original arc reactor?” You asked as he came over to your side of the bed.

“It still glows,” he answered. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed the box down on your bedside table. “I’ve added a switch.” He reached around to the back and flipped the switch. You smiled as the old reactor glowed. “What do you think?”

“It’s perfect.” You pulled Tony in for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my dear.” He kissed you again. “Think you can sleep now?”

“Maybe,” you smirked, “after I thank you properly.”

A cheeky grin grew on his face. “I think I can get behind that.”

[wordstome]

i’m here to encourage you to please elaborate on singledad!könig

also, do any of their kids have any scuffles with each other? how do the parents and children deal with it?

This ask was sent 10 minutes after the dream daddy post went up. Anon, I adore you.

I was going to put single dad König in this same post, but then it started to go on and on, and I want to take my time with the second half of your ask as well, so all my König thoughts will go in a separate post. Thank you for enabling me :3

(also this is the post I lost 3 paragraphs worth of writing on. It was literally all of Price and Ghost's sections, so forgive me if they're not up to par).

Price: With three kids, there are bound to be spats. Brianna taking something of Alice's without asking, Clara ruining one of the older girls' possessions, etc. etc. People see Price with all girls and remark how peaceful his house must be, but Price (and anybody who has a sister) knows that is NOT true. The Price home is chaos interrupted by periods of peace. Luckily, their dad is a literal military captain, so he's able to whip them into shape. All manner of crying, yelling, and shrieking can be silenced with one singular "GIRLS!" from the man himself. Then after that comes the soothing and the stern talking-tos.

Ghost: I think Simon was great with kids pre-Roba, he had Tommy and then his nephew Joseph. But post-Roba and his work in the special forces, he's much more rough around the edges. Like I said in the main post, Caden is a pretty quiet kid, so I can't see him starting or getting into any trouble. But he is still a 10 year old, so I can see him throwing a fit when he's frustrated or uncomfortable. If this happens in public, Simon will pull him aside and talk to him quite sternly, especially if Caden is making a ruckus as an emotional outlet. In private, he gives Caden space to let it all out, and then talks to him afterwards. However, if Caden can articulate what's upsetting him, he's very gentle and understanding. One way or another, I can see Simon getting help with his PTSD, so he uses a lot of techniques that his therapist taught him with Caden.

Soap: I imagine Elodie as about 6-7 years older than Thomas, who is a literal baby, so I can't see that they get into any fights. Mostly Elodie getting cranky about Thomas getting all the attention, at which point Johnny has to reassure his daughter and give her some love as well. When they're older, Elodie is a classic older sister who fucks with her little brother. She's never truly malicious, but there are definitely times when Johnny's standing in front of them sighing and pinching his nose because Elodie's played a nasty prank on her brother. Johnny's a very picks-his-misbehaving-kid-up-like-a-doll-and-gives-them-a-noogie kind of parent. He's never raised his voice at his kids, but instead has an "if what I think is happening is happening, it better not be" tone that instantly strikes fear into his kids' hearts. I can hear it in my head. I know you guys can hear it in your head too. 'Nuff said.

Gaz: It's hard to say what it's like when Kyle's kids fight: I can see Violet being the sort of girl who is quite close with her younger brother, so I can't really imagine a lot of scenarios in which they would fight. But Elliott is a younger brother and Violet is a growing teenage girl, so there have probably been a few times when Violet got mad at Elliott and screamed at him or said something that she regretted. Kyle and Emily will both scold the kids when they step out of line, and they both do their part when it comes to discipline. Kyle in particular is a very "I'm not mad at you, I'm just disappointed" sort of parent. He expects a lot of Violet, but sometimes that pressure can get to her.

König: This man is overwhelmingly soft for his daughter. The calmest, most gentle giant. I think out of all the dads he's most susceptible to spoiling her, which obviously could become a problem. He's incredibly lucky though, because Ava is an angel. She is spoiled, being an only child on her daddy's colonel salary, but she gives more "kind rich girl" vibes than "inconsiderate little brat". I'm going to elaborate more on this in the upcoming König post, but he's got this deep sadness to him because he lost his wife. Ava is a pretty perceptive child, so she doesn't act out unless she's having a really hard time, in which case König is nothing but soothing and reassuring.

Horangi: If Ryujin (Hong-jin's daughter) has beef with you, he's kicking your ass right alongside her. When she was young, she was fully capable of both starting and finishing fights, and Hong-jin was an incorrigible enabler who was more likely to double over laughing than scold his daughter. Her mother usually had to be the disciplinarian. Hong-jin and Ryujin have a complicated relationship, but in adulthood, they're pretty even keel, and have grown even closer since the death of Ryujin's mom.

Keegan: Jason and Cecelia have been through a lot together, so they don't really fight. When they do though, it's nasty, and Keegan serves as more of a go-between than a disciplinarian role. Both of them will seek advice from him, but he understands that they know each other better than he does. Not for lack of trying, of course, but it's inevitable with older adoptions. His role comes from having more life experience, and he's got a kind of impenetrable chill that makes everybody a lot calmer.

[ladyorigami]

How do you feel about season 4

Bad. I feel reeeeal bad about season 4. LOL I hate it, actually-hate what they did to my boy.

Yes I'm always focused most on Five as a character, but I will say as a whole, the season is just...just a mess. They took away a lot of particular traits from the characters in order to sort of give this...shock value? Not sure that's the word, but in order for us to see how differently bland and miserable everyone's life is this time around, and to do that, they also just, sucked a ton of their characters out right with it. We also have no catharsis, no proper conclusion to the relationships and events of s3, and even though they carry that over, they don't actually give resolution.

The plot also just-and the ENDING-I...okay I need to round back to Five for a second. I'm going to ramble rant about Five for a bit PASSIONATELY so SPOILER ALERT AHEAD, don't read below this if you don't want to see me lay down a quick wall of text about The Boy:

It's not like I don't understand the 'why' of it.

Imagine spending the majority of your life in an apocalypse, eating bugs and learning how to harden your heart and kill as a child, all for the CHANCE at getting back to your family.

Throwing him back into that scenario is like...the mere THOUGHT of that makes me insane with all of the character exploration we could have had and then DIDN'T GET ANY.

Like I can't even fathom the sheer trauma he was going through once they got lost in that subway for more than a couple weeks. He's essentially in his personal hell all over again and this time it's without that hope of his family he had before. Of course he's going to cling to the one person who is there, of course they both would, it's been years. Trauma bonding exists and they both have a lot of it and yes, they are like with their rough edges and independence. So sure, I can understand the 'why' and 'how' of this happening (even if I hate it and it lowkey gives me the ick)

But we didn't even GET the character parts of that. We didn't get any trauma, didn't get any PTSD, didn't get any look into Five's mind and heart there in the subway. This really would have been a perfect opportunity to finally crack all of that wide open, because it's always been brushed off before. But nope.

Instead, an affair with Lila. A rushed sloppy timelapse and then they're a thing now and that's...it? Like the whole point of that was just for them to have this weird relationship and then they came back??

There's a time that he even SEES a younger version of himself in the same apocalypse and he reacts like he isn't even there.

This character who becomes lost without a purpose and is still searching for it, whose flame is uncharacteristically dimmed of the usual fire? Yes. I would like to explore that.

Like I said it's not even necessarily the issue that it could have happened in the beginning but it's his attitude after that really got to me. The entitlement he had to square up to Diego?? The entitlement he had to continue to cling around her when her family is there and the way he's acting...it's like it's just terrible to me.

When Five loves he loves with his whole heart, he devotes everything he has to the people he cares for but once upon a time that used to be his family and like hell if I think he would fist fight Diego for LILA. Diego his brother...Diego whose eyes warmed with such love and relief in the second season when he saw Five at that hospital. Five who sacrificed himself numerous times over to keep them safe.

I get the point is that Five is lost. That his family clearly can't give him what he needs and he's just in some ways given up trying for it. He's-tired and he just wants to rest and have something or someone that he can call his own...but that's definitely not going to be the wife of his brother???? rihgqoirgoais

I just can't swallow this attitude by him in the after bits-and I definitely can't come to terms with the fact that they basically planted him back into his personal nightmare and all that came from that was a rushed love affair. It puts a bitter bitter taste in my mouth he deserved this character exploration, he deserved to actually have his family go try and save him for once-fight for him-show him that they care as much as he's cared for them.

(There is NO slander being thrown to people who like this ship before or after s4, you guys like what you like and that's fantastic. I just have issues with the way it was all handled and I must rant passionately.)

[shu-box-puns]

Hello there mate!

Hope you're doing good and I'm here to say I ADORE you're Dad!Tsu'tey works and they bring me my daily dose of serotonin.

But also, since I've read (and reread) the "Grumpy dad and his feral son" work I've been having some thoughts. Like, what if Tsu'Tey was just a second too late and they managed to take Spider away? How would he react (I mean obviously he would hunt the shit out of them down) ? When would he and Spider reunite again? In the forest while he was with the recoms? In the battle of the Sea Dragon? I mean he would most def come to his rescue if the letter is the case to come and get him (+ to aid the Sullies), but then I also wonder what would happen. Would the whole Neytiri holding him hostige infront of Quaritch so he would release Kiri thing happen? How would he react to that? Or what if he got shot instead on Neteyam (not dying tho cos I want both my faves to live a happy life) ? I bet Tsu'Tey would be fucking terrified cos it woul remind him of how he got shot and almost died.

Anywho I'm sorry for the long line of questions and suggestions I left but when my brain finds something to hyperfixate on it will not stop coming up with questions and possible scenarios for the said thing 😅

I love the way your brain thinks Anon. (The fact I literally had most of these scenarios either thought out or planned :D) This got long. All the questions just gave me so many ideas and I RAN with it. Enjoy the memes and I hope there's no obvious spelling mistakes.

>_<

If Tsu'tey were too late to grab Spider before Quaritch got to him:

I could definitely see him tearing off after the recoms. Maybe he springs from the bushes too late, and Quaritch has already hoisted the boy up over his shoulder. Naturally, Tsu'tey still tries to attack him with his bow, but Lyle opens fire too fast and he old instinct has him retreating. Man definitely has some PTSD from getting shot during the war, and although mentally he still wants Spider back, his body goes on auto-pilot and throws him out of the line of fire. Lyle keeps shooting in his direction as the recoms retreat, but Tsu'tey isn't gonna let something as silly as instinct keep him down for long.

That's his boy, they'll have to kill him to keep him from getting him back. Thankfully, Jake knows exactly where his brain went and literally had to throw himself at this man so he didn't end up getting himself shot (again). Jake likes Spider well enough, but he thinks regrouping is a better course of action than charging in guns blazing - shocker, he's actually matured since having his kids.

Tsu'tey definitely fights with all he has against Jake, cursing at him and trying to wrestle himself free. He can't focus on anything but the distant roar of the enemy ship as it soars in close to the canopy. He can see the lights, and through the trees, the vague outlines of the recoms strapping themselves in. Lo'ak definitely has to wrestle the hunter's knife out of its sheath before he remembers it is there. But no one can save Jake from Tsu'tey biting the shit out of him. Man does not give a shit at this point.

When he gets free. (Of course it's a when not an if.) The airship is already long gone. A distant hum in the distance, even to his superior hearing. The pure, unbridled rage on this man's face is terrifying. Instead of explosive, loud anger, he's cold, almost unnervingly calm. A whole new level of terrifying.

Jake is definitely too scared to try and coax him out of the clearing and instead focuses on reassuring his children. Neytiri has to approach him, she's known him the longest afterall. Had stuck with him through the loss of Sylwanin, the fall of HomeTree, the war, she knows how best to handle him when he is like this. That doesn't mean her words are effective however. Tsu'tey needs a moment of stillness to collect his thoughts and recollect himself after the adrenaline burst, but Neytiri is already grabbing him roughly by the bicep and trying and drag him to his ikran.

He's still seething. Barely seeing straight. Half baked plans of him attacking the demon airship before it could get to Bridgehead were sounding more tempting by the moment.

Somehow Neytiri drags him out of the clearing and into the branches of the trees. Hauling his weary body to safer ground. But in his musing, Tsu'tey recalls the figure of Neytiri in the trees when Spider fell. He remembers seeing her dragging Kiri away with half a nod of acknowledgement sent Tsu'tey's way. It sends a fresh wave of rage crashing over him.

"You left him." He suddenly snarled, ripping his arm from her and pointing an accusatory finger at her. "He was right there, and you abandoned him!"

Neytiri's ears droop and she doesn't deny it. She doesn't back down either. "My priority was Kiri. I assumed you could handle it." She doesn't apologise for her actions or inaction. Just holds his gaze and holds her ground. Her expression neutral.

Tsu'tey knew she'd never taken much of a liking to Spider, despite her relationship with Jake and his heritage. Despite Tsu'tey unofficial adoption of the boy. There had always been a sense of hostility between the two. With Neytiri acting colder to Spider and the boy refusing to call her out on it. Tsu'tey had never thought to address it or try and help them mend that gap, now look at them.

And that's the real kick to the teeth. Not that Neytiri didn't care enough to be sorry that it was his kid taken instead of her own. It was the truth in her words that had his anger faltering. He should've been able to handle it. Spider was his son. And he let him slip through his fingers. He should've fought harder, dirtier. Should have resorted to teeth and nails if he had to.

So what if he got shot? If he'd angled it right, he would've had enough time to get Spider to safety.

If it had been Neteyam or Lo'ak in Quartich's hold, Jake would've torn himself apart to ensure their safety. Neytiri would've fallen into a blind rage to keep her children safe. Would have used every resource at her disposal to protect her own. She would have stared death in the face and kept snarling. And what had Tsu'tey done? Allowed a past experience to still his movements. To make him hesitate, and now he might have to pay the price for the rest of his life.

His retort dies on his tongue as his heart clenches painfully. But Tsu'tey had never been one to give up easily. He kept a tight hold on his anger, allowed it to guide him as he shoved past Neytiri and called for his ikran. His face was set in his trademark scowl, but there was a predatory fluidity to him that only came out during the war. When what he loved was threatened.

As his ikran lands beside him and he makes the bond, Lo'ak sidles up to his side, offering him back his knife. There is a familiar fire burning in the depths of the boy's eyes. A desire for vengance, and a sea of guilt and pain. Tsu'tey allows his face to soften for a heartbeat, he bends over the side of his ikran and squeezes Lo'ak's shoulder tight. "I will get him back." He promises.

Lo'ak chews on his lower lip, his eyes flickering to Tsu'tey and holding his burning gaze. He must see Tsu'tey's determination, his drive, his stubbornness, because he cracks a small smile and nods.

The family prepares to return to High Camp. Jake warning Tsu'tey that any attempts to go after Spider now was a suicide mission. He didn't argue, but neither did Tsu'tey agree. He also chose to ignore Neytiri handing Tuk off to him. Just kept his gaze ahead, and his hand loosely wrapped around the little girl's stomach so she was secure in the saddle in front of him.

If they reunited in the forest:

Lets say by chance Tsu'tey gets word of the Demon ship in clan territory again, or he's just riding around the forest on a pa'li because it helps him clear his mind.

He hasn't slept since Spider was taken. He's worried for his boy and severely regretting not letting him know what he meant to him before this shit show got so out of hand. In typical Tsu'tey fashion, he's been spending his time gathering Spider's belongings for when he returns.

Norm had already handed over most of the boy’s prized possessions when Tsu’tey asked for them from his bedroom in the compound. He’d packed everything away neatly in preparation to wherever Jake was planning to flee, so his son would have what he needed the minute he was retrieved. Spare exo pack, rechargeable batteries, etc. 

He's in his head so deep, that he takes a double take when he spots Spider through the trees. His pa'li makes an abrupt stop, the large animal mirroring Tsu'tey's shock as he stares wide eyed at the image of his boy stood on a log, above a group of recoms. Even from a distance he can see the bruises. He can see the tense set of his shoulders, his swift glances to the forest, despite pretending to be at ease.

Tsu'tey's shock melts into a scowl as his bow groans under the tightening on his hands. He steels himself with a long, deep inhale, mentally calculating the space within the small clearing. The sight of the guns on the recoms have his heart pounding, and his scars tingling with phantom pain. He knows deep down that his bow will be useless in a one on six fight. His only advantage is surprise, and he only gets one chance.

Tsu'tey's mind is made up before he takes his next breath. He knows he needs to try. Even if it ends with a bullet between his shoulders and his pa'li throwing him off from the pain, he needs to die trying. Whether it kills him or not, he needs to return Spider to the clan, where he will be safe. Where Jake and Neytiri can take him to a fresh start, a safer alternative to the clan at war.

The recoms are distracted. Only one wearing sunglasses is actually taking stock of his surroundings. Spider is talking, commanding most of the group's attention.

Sucking in a deep breath, Tsu'tey lets out a sharp call that could easily be mistaken for some distant herd animal. None of the recoms react but he sees Spider visibly stiffens. Tsu’tey grins despite himself and readies his mount. 

He notches an arrow into his bow and urges his pa'li forward. He erupts from the undergrowth with a war cry, and skewers the closest unsuspecting recom. It scatters the group like startled yerik, who immediately scramble for their guns.

"TSU'TEY!" Spider yells, sounding shocked and elated to see him. The hunter spares only a moment killing a second recom before he's charging for that log. His pa'li races past faster than the enemy can load their weapons, and it gives Tsu'tey large enough of an opening to lean down and grab Spider's by his extended hands. The child immediately latches onto him, grabbing whatever he can as Tsu'tey swings him up into the saddle in front of him and together they disappear off into the undergrowth.

Shots were fired at their back but no one got hit, much to Tsu'tey's relief. But the adrenaline rush isn't over because Spider turns around and yells in a rush about a tracker in his mask.

Not to worry though, because Tsu'tey is very up to date on all the old compound location. Even as his triumph sours, he takes confidence in the distant yells of the recoms and the light pressure of Spider at his front. He snarls softly to himself as he makes his pa'li change course.

Yes they get the masks switched out without issue and toss the bugged one into a fast moving river to send Quaritch on a wild goose chase and buy the Sully's more time to run.

Side note: In this possibility, Tsu'tey was definitely convinced Spider wasn't safe enough with him and he had to go with the Sully's to the Metkayina clan. And Tsu'tey was NOT planning to go with him. HAVE ANGST!!

If they reunited on the Sea Dragon:

In this scenario, Tsu'tey ends up visiting the Sullys when the Sea Dragon turns up. He just wanted to check up on his friends and see if they've heard anything about Spider, and the next thing he knows, he's got nieces and nephews to save, and a score to settle.

Tsu'tey is definitely going straight for the ship.

It's during the stand-off where the Colonel has his gun to Lo'ak's temple and Jake isn't telling anyone over the comms what is happening - preparing to hand himself over like the idiot he is. Tsu'tey was circling above the clouds on his ikran with Neytiri, carefully listening to his ear piece as he tries to decipher what is going on. The minute he catches sight of Spider being escorted back into the ship, all rational thought leaves this man's head. Of course he has enough sense to remain undetected - he's not stupid - but he's also not on board with Jake's self-sacrificing bullshit. In Tsu'tey's books, failure is not an option this time around. He is getting Spider back if it kills him.

Tsu'tey and Payakan being on the same wavelength.

The tulkun YEETING himself onto the ship's deck and giving Tsu'tey big enough of an opening to land his ikran and send the beast back up into the sky undetected. He makes brief eye contact with Neteyam who's circling the shallows around the belly of the ship, getting ready to leap up and help out his siblings.

The oldest Sully boy points to the kids tied to the railing, Tsu'tey nods. He motions behind him, where the RDA sailors took Spider and Neteyam nods his understanding.

On the horizon, the Metkayina clan are inbound. Tearing through the waves and heading straight for the ship.

Tsu'tey decides that they've got this covered and finds the nearest doorway that will lead him into the belly of the metal ship. He's too tall for the corridors and either has to knuckle crawl or walk at a constant stoop. His bow is a pain to hold loaded in the tight space, so he opts solely for his knife.

He navigates the ship blindly. His ears pricked for Spider's voice, but otherwise killing anyone he comes across and moving swiftly. He knows the destruction caused by Payakan would've damaged something valuable and he needs to move fast.

I love the idea of Tsu'tey stumbling across the control room in time to find Spider steering the ship towards the rocks and then brutally killing the controls with a fire extinguisher. (Boy was eyeing that lever heavily whenever he was in the same room as it). Just Tsu'tey letting out a half formed growl as the crewmates try to tear Spider away and fix the lever, but his oncoming attack getting put on hold as the enormous ship speeds for the rocks and promptly takes off.

The minute that bitch lands back in the water, you can bet Tsu'tey is the first on his feet. He erupts into the room with a sound so unnerving that the crew forget that they are armed. It's an unfair fight. And despite the tight quarters and being outnumbered, Tsu'tey wipes the floor with everyone.

They find Spider an exopack and get the fuck off the sinking ship to meet back up with the Sullys out on the rock.

Just the crew out cold or dead at his feet, and Tsu'tey closing the distance between himself and Spider. He drops into a crouch, all hard scowl and sharp eyes, and gently tucks Spider's dread behind his ear. "Are you unharmed?"

Spider nods, dumbfounded and thrown off by the raw concern in Tsu'tey's voice. Tsu'tey grumbles. He can see spots of blood all over Spider, small grazes and nicks that shouldn't be there. His stripes are faded and his hair needs a retwist. But he's alive, and Tsu'tey isn't going to let anything else happen to him.

Bonus:

The standoff:

I feel like throwing Tsu'tey into the mix would throw so many scenes off course with his sheer presence that the stand off between Neytiri and Quaritch where they're holding the kids hostage wouldn't happen. There would be too many variables changing for it to occur the same way, but lets pretend it does.

(Neteyam is alive btw, just resting on his rock with Tsireya kindly mixing him up a poultice she learned from her Tsahik training. Lyle didn't kill him, but Neteyam definitely had to protect Lo'ak's dumbass in some way. That child is accident prone.)

Anyway, we've got Quaritch holding Kiri hostage. Jake is trying to keep Tuk out of harm's way. No one knows where the fuck Lo'ak is, but he's slippery enough to get himself out of anything. And then we've got Neytiri making a last ditch effort to protect her daughter by threatening to take away the last thing Quaritch loves; Spider.

In the background, we've got Tsu'tey. Breathing hard, slightly wounded from throwing himself around on a ship with broken equipment and guns getting fired at him from all directions.

Raised voices draw his attention. He's standing on the walkway overlooking the deck where the standoff is occurring. He spots Spider first, under Neytiri's blade, begging for Kiri's life instead of his own. Anger like he's never felt before curls hard in his stomach. The betrayal is worse than when Jake and Neytiri first mated. It was one thing to let his son get captured, it was another to murder him right in front of Tsu'tey.

Kiri's voice stops Tsu'tey from doing anything stupid in his blind rage. Every molecule of his body screams to defend his child, but common sense makes him take in the situation.

His head snaps to Quaritch holding Kiri hostage. To Jake within arms reach, but preoccupied with Tuk. To the knife drawing blood at Kiri's neck.

Tsu'tey also takes note of the clear shot he has from his vantage point. There is no conflict within him as he notches his bow. No concern for Spider's reaction, or the conflicted feelings he might have towards his birth father. Tsu'tey's mind is clear. His hands are steady. And his mind is made up.

He takes the shot, and nail's the recom through his right eye. The arrow - fired with all the strength he could muster - goes straight through bone and wedges in up to two thirds of its shaft.

Quaritch sways for a heartbeat, his knife clattering to the metal deck as Kiri tears away from him and throws herself at Jake. Then he collapses with a painful thump. Limps sprawling and his head lolling.

Slowly, Tsu'tey lowers his bow, his gaze narrowed and his tail whipping behind him. He catches Neytiri's eyes as the huntress and her family follow the direction the arrow had come from.

"Unhand. My. Son." Tsu'tey snarls, his voice ringing out over the soft crash of the waves and the pop of fire. His gaze is venomous, fingers twitching for another arrow if Neytiri doesn't back down. There's still a crazed edge to her gaze, a look Tsu'tey is sure he shares. He hasn't felt this shaken since Spider was taken.

Neytiri nods once. An acknowledgment. And lets Spider go.

His son stumbles away, furiously scrambling to put distance between himself and Neytiri. Kiri was quick to soothe him, check him for injuries as Jake carefully approached Neytiri to take the knife off of her.

Tsu'tey leaps down from the upper level. He can't be bothered to find the stairs and the height is nothing compared to what he has to deal with back in the forest. He keeps an eye on Neytiri, but knows that Jake has her now. Ears pricked in case of further enemies, Tsu'tey spares a few moments to kick Quaritch's corpse and make sure he fired a killing shot. The last thing he needed was to grow comfortable again and then in fifteen years have to deal with this bullshit all over again.

"Dad?" The quiet utterance has panic straightening his spine. It's not one of his nieces asking for Jake's attention. It's Spider's voice. Quiet and shaky and so vulnerable that Tsu'tey just wants to wrap himself up in his arms.

Instead, all he can think about is Quaritch's body at his feet. Tsu'tey's arrow protruding from his eye socket. His blood pooling at his feet.

Then it hits him all at once. Spider's birth dad is dead at his feet, and Tsu'tey put him there. Tsu'tey killed him. He didn't even ask. Spider spent months with this man - against his will - but not everything is black and white. They might have come to some understanding. He might of grown to know him outside of his video logs and the fleeting stories he overheard from the Omaticaya. Spider may have gotten to know Quaritch without the biased lense of hate everyone else talks about him with. And Tsu'tey murdered him. What's worse, he felt triumphant doing it.

Tsu'tey can feel his hands shaking, regardless of how tightly he grasped his bow. His ears were flat against his skull, his tail tucked in close to his legs. He prays he just looks like he's reflecting, in contrast to being crushed by the weight of his actions. And he keeps staring at Quaritch's corpse. The arrow. The blood.

"Dad?" Spider says again. A little louder. More confident. And it kills Tsu'tey as he cringes, eyes squeezing shut against the guilt.

A brush of a hand to his wrist. His eyes snap open, and there's Spider. Gazing up at him with wide, tearful eyes. His mask is slightly cracked and he's bleeding from his chest where Neytiri caught him with her blade. But there is no hatred in his expression. Only relief and exhaustion.

"Dad, are you okay?" Spider asks him, and he looks at Tsu'tey as he says it.

The realisation hits him like a sturmbeest stampede. That Spider was calling him Dad, not the corpse at his feet.

With a deep, shuddering breath, Tsu'tey pulls himself together. "I am." He reassures his son as he drops into a crouch. It is evident from Spider's expression that he doesn't believe him, but the boy doesn't push.

Instead, he throws his arms around Tsu'tey's neck and burries his face under his chin. Tsu'tey chuckles wetly, his arms wrapping around Spider and dragging him close. It soothes every raw instinct in him to finally have his boy back in his arms. Tired and injured, but safe.

Around him, he can hear the Sully family beginning to wade into the surf, so Tsu'tey tucks his arms under Spider's thighs and hoists him up onto his hip, like he used to when his son was still a toddler. Despite his age now, he's still the perfect size for Tsu'tey to carry unhindered out of the shipwreck.

BONUS:

[l-in-the-light]

Hey 😊 I read your answer about Law wanting to help people because of his trauma. I know about his fear of touch but wouldn't it help him to overcome this when he realizes that his touch can bring other people immense pleasure (when he's giving oral or bringing his partner to orgasm while sex)? 🤔 Besides sex is very good for the health 😎.

Okay, I admit I didn't really know what to do with your ask at first. Are you serious when you're suggesting he can just overcome his PTSD because he wants to make someone happy or because sex should help him feel better and recover faster? Because if you do, we need to talk. Like, seriously talk about this.

First of all, yeah, sex can be good for you. Physical affection in many ways is neccessary for good well-being (that's why touch starvation and stuff like that became a popular discussed topic after pandemic's outbreak). But you know what else is healthy besides sex and physical affection? Good food. Taking a walk. Enjoying the sea breeze. And do you know what those things have all in common? They can't heal or cure anyone out of literally anything. The only thing they can do is to boost your mood and give you physical exercise, which is good for the body, but it's not a therapy and it's not a medicine. In other words, it will not cure you from PTSD, depression, anxiety or anything else besides a foul mood, perhaps. PTSD is not a matter of having a foul mood. Even if your mood is great, you will still have PTSD and you can still experience triggers no matter how happy you might have felt a moment ago. And also sometimes not every food you eat is gonna be good for you. Bread is tasty, right? But it's bad for celiacs. Sex is good, right? Unless it triggers you or you're sex-repulsed. Not everything is good for everyone, period. And you can live without bread and you can live without sex.

Secondly, Law has two triggers we know of: feeling helpless (for example: when he's pinned down or when people are dying and he can't do anything about it) and touch. He overcomes first one by saving lives, not by "helping people" in general. If you're referencing some post I wrote, I'm pretty certain by him swearing to help people I meant "saving their lives", not doing sexual favours for them ;) also saving lives has nothing to do with Law's fear of touch.

Third of all, please don't say stuff like this about PTSD. It's spreading misinformation. You can't recover from it just by wishing for it or pushing forcefully through. If you put Law in the scenario you just described, he would be terrified and then try to force the closeness (because if he truly wants someone to be happy he needs to ignore his own discomfort, right?) and in the end he will just escape, feeling pathetic and blaming himself. He would end up thinking that his love for people isn't strong enough to overcome his own trauma (and the sad part is: it will never be, that's why it's a trauma after all). In other words, putting a person with PTSD in this scenario you described, would do them more harm than good.

And yeah, Law is just a fictional character, you can imagine him in any scenario you want and write fics in which he never develops PTSD and is touchy-feely, and that's fine. But PTSD happens to be a very real condition, so please never say things like that to real people. It's giving a very harmful message - they can end up believing they are broken, because they can't spontanously or by sheer will overcome their own triggers to make someone else happy. Always be respectful towards people suffering from past traumas. No matter how well you mean it, don't tell them to just "get over it", saying it will be helpful for them if they just change their way of thinking about it and do it for someone else's sake. The best result you will achieve is them selfblaming themselves when they inevitably fail.

What you can do for them instead, to show your support, is to assure them they're fine no matter what, that they're good people even if there are things they can't handle, that every step in their healing process is important even if "the final goal" (never getting triggered again) will never get achieved. And always, always remember about their triggers and by all means avoid forcing a person with PTSD to face them head on. What you can do for someone who suffers from a trigger, is to make sure not to make it worse. Is the trigger a loud noise? Take them immediately to a quiet place instead. Is the trigger a touch? Definitely don't try to hug them to make it better, give them some space instead. After they manage to calm down, you can give them something they like that they find soothing and comforting (listen to a favourite song, offer a drink they like etc.) and ask if both of you should just go back home or do something else. This is something you can do for someone suffering from a PTSD. But it's only one possible, hypothetical example, there are other ways to show support and not leave the suffering person on their own.

There is a study proving that adults who were traumatized as children may be more likely to keep a greater physical distance between themselves and strangers, and may also find touch stimuli less comforting than people without a history of trauma. Apparently trauma alters the brain so it's possible the body also gives a traumatized person less gratification from physical affection. If you want to read more about how trauma alters the brain, I reccommend checking out this article: Traumatized Adults Might Find Touch Less Appealing. I didn't know about that before, but it makes sense, because trauma is just a natural response on it's most extreme. That's why I think Law's touch starvation is probably not such a big deal that people want it to be, in comparison to his PTSD. His brain would adapt, and he has Bepo for comfort, which is a safe, not triggering closeness and touch for him. Traumatized people might have bigger issues on their plate than your typical post-pandemic touch starvation, just saying.

Now let's talk more about triggers, because I feel like this needs to be elaborated on. A trigger is involuntary reaction (can be body reaction, can be emotional) you definitely can't control, that is caused by some outside source of stimuli. Those reactions alert us to perceived threats in our environment. Triggers can be anything that reminds someone of the traumatic event, it can be more obvious like revisiting the location where the trauma occurred, being alone, seeing the same breed of dog that bit you, or hearing loud voices, small touch, a grab, even a certain smell. For example, if the trauma is related to being stuck in a locked place, it doesn't matter what place it is or that it's different from the very first place you got accidentally locked in. Any place in which you're locked up will trigger you, like bathroom stalls in which the latch doesn't budge, broken elevators stuck between floors etc. Triggers are also often associated with (but not limited to) the time of day, season, holiday, or anniversary of the event.

When touch has been associated with fear, pain, or violation in the past, it can naturally become a trigger. Childhood trauma, especially sexual, physical or emotional abuse, can imprint deep-seated associations between touch and danger. The fear of being touched is so strong that it is often paralyzing. It can cause physical symptoms like hives, hyperventilation or even fainting. The fear of being touched becomes a phobia when symptoms develop nearly every time you are touched. It becomes a disorder when it lasts six months or longer.

To reduce the emotions caused by a trigger people can become avoidant (of anything even remotely reminding them of the trauma, for example: any touch in general), self-medication (like alcohol abuse, to numb yourself and not feel anything anymore), compulsive eating, self-injury. Sometimes people can even become aggressive or repeat the events of the trauma (for example, hypersexuality as the result of sexual assault, or becoming the violent oppressor themselves; they just repeat the traumatic event over and over again, it's not a healthy way of dealing with trauma).

Most important in recovery is learning to manage triggers, memories, and emotions without avoidance (avoidance is the initial response in PTSD). You can think of it as becoming desensitized to traumatic memories. There isn't really a “cure” for triggers. All we can do is identify when we're upset, try to understand why, and manage our emotional reactions. With practice and proper treatment, the reaction to your emotional triggers could dimnish and become manageable, but the triggers themselves might never go away. Thankfully, even the most intense trauma triggers can be managed.

At first a traumatic response can be hyperventilation to the point you almost suffocate, shivering that don't want to stop for hours and very high level emotional distress that makes you detached from the present and trapped in the past in your head. After therapy and learning how to manage your responses, you can instead apply breathing techniques to reduce hyperventilation, know what to do so that shivering doesn't go for hours but instead fades in the span of half an hour, and you ground yourself in the present (there are many methods for it, for example doing a soothing motion). So, after "getting healed" it doesn't mean the triggers magically don't happen anymore, you just manage them more effectively. And perhaps some of them can be reduced so much that instead of triggering one of the physical symptoms it only makes you very distressed. Who knows, it's a very individual thing, after all.

How to know if someone is suffering from PTSD? The DSM-5 (the official criteria for PTSD classification) identifies four symptom clusters for PTSD: presence of intrusion symptoms (like frequent, vivid flashbacks: sudden intrusive thoughts about the past events), persistent avoidance of stimuli (like avoiding closeness and touch), negative alterations in cognitions and mood (low self-esteem, self-blame etc.), and marked alterations in arousal and reactivity (like lashing out). Which is exactly what I wrote about in detail when answering to this ask.

Let's take a look at Law's trauma symptoms again: we see Law having tremors and quickened breath (sometimes to the point of wheezing), and freezing up when he's triggered (at least in the manga). Whenever someone is trying to touch him or comes really close, his response is to move away. He's also emotionally distant and avoidant. What are his triggers? We saw Doflamingo grabbing his wrist forcefully which caused a freezing reaction (Law couldn't even move to free himself). We saw him also freeze up when Mingo set up his birdcage. When Law was trapped with Luffy and Mingo's clone in the well, he was wheezing and shivering. There are few situations in which Luffy touches Law or Law touches Luffy, but even if those situations don't seem to overwhelm him, he still struggles in each and every single one of them. Which means they're kinda managable for Law, as long as he puts some time and effort into it (that's a sign that he is working through his trauma and knows quite a lot about managing his triggers already).

But how would he react if Luffy forcefully grabbed Law's wrist, for example, which is his confirmed trigger? Probably not too well. I can't imagine sex being comfortable in such conditions. Can you? Sex would feel very unnatural if Law had to brace himself to that extent every time he tries to touch someone and there's no guarantee that none of the touch he receives doesn't trigger him. And no, cuddling him won't help him get over it. If touch is triggering to you, more touch is not gonna solve the problem. Also hugging or other forms of physical affection aren't a magical solution to every emotional problem in the world.

There's also something called resilient responses to trauma, which are basically healthy ways of coping that some people naturally adapt. And I think Law slightly shows signs of it too. It can be things like:

increased time and bonding with family and friends (Law's commitment to his Hearts Pirates and also bonding with Penguin, Shachi and Bepo right after losing Cora-san; he spends time with them almost exclusively)

strong or increased sense of purpose and meaning (Law is always very goal-oriented)

commitment to a personal mission, revised priorities (Law trying to save people's lives no matter what)

charity work and volunteering to help other people (Law taking care of the Strawhats lol)

If anyone wants to know even more about PTSD, I reccommend this link, it really gives a good and detailed guide to all the basics and even includes notes about treatment.

Now I feel inclined to say this to everyone: sex is fine and can be good, but not having sex is also fine! Sex isn't the best thing in the world and no one is missing out if they're not having any, there are so many other nice things. And just because someone is attractive or handsome doesn't mean they absolutely have to have sex, like to prove that they're not wasting their body (whatever that would even mean) and not sharing with the world. It's your body and your choice, no one has any obligation to give sex to others, never ever, for any possible reason you can name. You don't have to have sex just to prove something to others, no matter what it would be (to be cool, to be accepted, to prove others you're a good person and a good lover or not a loser etc.). You're a worthy human being even if you don't have sex, no matter what's the reason for not having it. You're a good person even if you don't want to give someone else a sexual service, give them a blowjob or bring them to orgasm, or even touch them at all. You can show your love in different ways than by having sex. Not having sex with someone also doesn't mean you don't love them. Sex is just one part of life and it's optional. People can have good lives, have fun and be healthy without it. You can even have PTSD but choose not to have sex just because you don't like it.

Now, do I think Law will never have sex? I don't know, that depends on his healing process. For now, I'm not seeing it and he's also perfectly fine even if he will never have sex in his entire life. If one day he manages his triggers so well that he can even have sex, great for him! I still think he will be taking a risk at being triggered every single time he makes his decision to pursue partnered sexual adventures. Simply because touch can't be completely avoided when having sex. It can be worked around in quite a number of ways, but sex basically is about touching various body parts together, prove me wrong if that's not the case* ;) also we don't have to fear or try to erase the PTSD from the characters who can't deal well with touch as the result. That's kinda not exactly considerate or nice to them, won't you agree?

*disclaimer: yeah, I am aware there are other sexual actitivities that don't involve touch. Two people can just voyeuristically look at each other when they masturbate, for example :P why is this word so ugly btw. The stigma around sex-related words needs to finally die and we need more judgement-free words for sexual activities.

I hope this post helped you understand PTSD and triggers a bit better, anon!

[theyanderespecialist]

Fearful Bunny (SCENARIO) Yandere William Afton X Survivor Reader (Five Nights At Freddy's)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter! This chapter is a request from Tumblr. With a reader having Leporiphobia which is the phobia of rabbits. So I got the idea that Reader was supposed to be the 6th missing child. But instead, she got away. She had severe PTSD and repressed most of her memories. But it came with a deep-seated phobia of rabbits. Cause William Afton had worn his Spring Bonnie suit. 

(Disclaimer 1: READER IS AN ADULT IN THIS AT THE AGE OF 19

Disclaimer 2: William Afton is YANDERE ONLY WHEN HE MEETS YOU AGAIN WHEN YOU APPLY FOR A JOB!

Disclaimer 3: William Afton is not a good person, but he is NOT Yandere in canon. This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all. Simping for Fictional characters, fictional serial killers, and fictional yanderes is fine. Just do not simp for REAL LIFE ONES, and do NOT be gross or illegal! Yanderes and people like William Afton ARE NOT Okay to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 

(No One's POV) 

(Name) had a deep phobia of rabbits. A terrible Phobia of them. All she could remember was that horrid rabbit face as she screamed. Since then she had the biggest fear of them. She has been down on her luck. She needs a job. So she is looking at the want ads. When she comes across an ad for a security guard job. The pay was shit, and the hours were almost as bad. 

She is desperate so she calls the phone number. 

"Hello, William Afton." The voice says. 

"Hi, I am calling about the security guard job." She tells him. 

"Very good, come by the Pizzeria." He says and hangs up. 

This is either a way to get her out there so he can kill her. Or he needs a security guard, bad. (Name) decided to take the risk, grabbing her mace just in case. She then drove to the pizzeria. It for sure had seen better days. Real better days. She shakes her head and gets out of her car. She sees a man waiting for her. He is lanky and has his hair done nicely. 

"Mr. Afton?" (Name) asks him. 

"Ah, you must be the girl who called me, please come to my office." He says after staring at (Nanme) for a minute. 

The two of them walk in and (Name) is having a case of Deja Vu but she shakes it off. They make it to his office and he has her sit down. 

"So, I am in a tight pinch, I need a security guard. So I will most likely hire you, just need to do the paperwork, so I can pay you at the end of the week." He tells her. 

She nods her head. 

"Name?" He asks. 

"(Name) (Last Name)." She tells him and he almost drops her pin. He looks up and stares at her. 

That was a name from his past. The one kid he could not kill. She is all grown up and she is so stunning, it was a real good thing he did not kill her. Because he now wants her and he is not going to lose her. 

"Coffee?" He asks and goes to make her some. 

"Sure." She says and he slips something into her drink. Giving it to her. She drinks it out of nerves and they continue. 

"I will be right back," He tells her. "Do not run little bunny~" 

She tensed at that and he went getting into his Spring Bonnie suit. Then he cut the power. Well, most of it. He then went in. She was in the hall and when she saw him, she froze and looked like she was about to have a panic attack. Her body just froze up. So it was true, she did have a fear of rabbits. I chuckle and walk to her. She is still frozen. 

"Run little bunny, or the big bad rabbit will get you~," I tell her and she turns on her heel and runs. 

He was hot on her heels and he laughed at the chase. I did not take that long to catch her. The drug in her system kicking in. She went limp in his arms, either from the drug or fear it did not matter. She was his now. His fearful little bunny. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done, I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[tornoleander]

Wow, you're the beta reader for bbnb? I didn't know that. (So you can confirm that Hat is infact not dead because I haven't seen any activity from them in a while and my brain always jumps to worst case scenarios)

Anyway, definitely didn't forget to respond for like a week, but here are some of my theories/scenarios:

-I still think Cole's the one who'll remember bits and pieces because A. He's a ghost B. Hat used he/him when talking about who will remember and C. It would be incredibly emotionaly impactful

-HOWEVER, I think Pixal could also remember some stuff. None of the emotional stuff but she did technically die when Nadakhan erased her. Besides, it could be fun to see her try to let Jay or Nya know she remembers while still stuck to Zane.

-also Zane's falcon died but he was never mentioned in this fic so 😔

-Jay DEFINITELY has c-ptsd. Like, 100%, I'm sure the nurse/psychologist whose name I forgor would agree with me

-I'm pretty sure Wu just died by some falling island or something like that. Or he could've died by the storm, that would be cool.

-I know he said that swearing is a sign of weak verbal skills but I feel like Jay would start swearing more for comfort. Like, Nadakhan hated it but never truly did anything horrible to him because of it :)

most of the scenarios in my head play out with the ninja being captured again

-for example, Jay using his internal electricity to shock someone when they all have vengestone

-or them getting tazed and Jay sending the current back like he did in the electric chair

-or they're all traped and saying shit like "there's no other option" or something and Jay replying with "suicide's still an option" like that's a normal thing to say which obviously worries the others

And then there's the non captured scenarios

-something something Jay falling into autopilot after being told/asked to clean to ship and ends up also cleaning the hull "Why are you cleaning the bottom? We're in the air and you're not even tied to anything???" ".... trauma response?"

-or just straight up Jay having a panic attack out of seemingly sowhere (Cole said he wished he could eat cake again)

Anyway, those are the things I could think of right now, there's more but it's 3:39am and I'm tired :3

Hope it's not too long lol

Yep! As of ch 15. Me and hat have been chatting for a while and I bug them for feedback on Art accuracy so I help them with some writing corrections too!

I have been working on beta reading earlier chapters as well currently half way through 4. It is certainly an experience but now I yell my feelings into comment instead of just the void

*reaches through horrific horror to correct spelling mistake.

Yup Hat is alive! They were just fixated on something else for a while but they are back.

Ok now for scenarios

-Cole remembering bits……. I will refrain from giving my thoughts.

-Pixal and Zane’s falcon died pretty early so I do think they may remember up till then but It probably wouldn’t help understand much.

-I don’t think Wu died? But it’s not impossible.

-CPTSD?

I will ask hat about this one but seeing as bbnb events qualify as at least 4/6 of these causes of it AND ptsd is a tag I’m going to give it a yeah. Cause non complex ptsd is typically less prolonged.

-the swearing I do think he might do more but not necessarily for comfort

-For your head scenarios I am not sure all the ways hat is planned show how the events of the fic messed him up. But I know they’re a big fan of consequences for events…

From what I’m guessing he is going to be trying his best to hide everything and it’ll be somewhat canon compliant? But to be fair He is pretty consistently the most mentally unstable ninja. Take This with a big grain of salt I’m saving the analysis for my skybound video, but his behavior does generally line up well with SA surivers. the first time that Jays a prisoner post Skybound is when he says “You don’t argue with a man who’s navel is that close”

Which

Drives me insane by the way

Side tangent, I’ve been doing a lot of Skybound digging for my eventual video essay. And my current best theory on why this is a line has to do with SA of men being played for laughs.

Like older audiences are supposed to hear that and find it fucking funny. It’s unfortunately not uncommon in kids programming. My quest to best explain why S6 is so uncomfortable has been… enlightening. Terrified of approaching a controversial topic so I have been learning a-lot about approach and how to not be awful. But my fixation is being channeled led into the eventual Skybound video.

Hope I answered what you wanted to know and It wasn’t purely my Adhd rambling

[icycoldninja]

hi! i hope ur taking care of yourself. may i plz get a fem!reader/5dante piece where the reader is 22 and dating him, plus sized but slightly bigger than chubby, and deals with pcos along with c-ptsd from emotional abuse and controlling parents.

specifically in a scenario where she’s getting ready for a date but notices her jeans flaunt and enhance her tummy and she starts to get panicked by the past and how her father would tell her to change or get new clothes when she would wear something that even just fit snug on her. dante sees her crying and panicking and tries to comfort her and show how worthy and lovable her and her tummy is.

its ok if its too much to write about please don’t stress on it! im happy either way with previous writing you’ve posted!-🌷

Oh thank you so much! Here you go and enjoy 💜

You're amazing (DMC5!Dante x Fem!Chubby!Reader)

You stood in front of your mirror, preparing for a date night with Dante. You had most of your outfit on already, from your cute top to your hairdo; all that was left was your jeans, which lay on the bed nearby. You reached over, grabbed said jeans, and began tugging them on when you noticed how snugly they seemed to fit around your waist. It wasn't that the jeans were tight, they just seemed to emphasize your waist a bit more than you would have liked. You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you realized this, a sudden, unwanted memory crashing into your mind, filling your ears with loud shouting you wished you could block out.

"Go and change out of those clothes, you fat pig!" You heard your father shout. Even though he was not in the room without, he sounded as though he were.

"You're disgusting!" Your mother yelled. "Go put on some looser pants, or don't go out at all. I don't want to be seen with such an ugly, fat young woman!"

"Worthless!" Your father roared. "You're never going to be worth anything, you won't even be able to give us grandchildren."

You clamped your hands over your ears, trying so very hard to mute the shouts, taunts, and derogatory words, not realizing you were crying until your vision clouded over. Attempting to see through the liquid fog obscuring your vision, you became vaguely aware of a red-clothed figure rushing into your room, and felt the soothing warmth of two strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

"Hey, baby, baby, don't cry," He whispered, running a hand through your hair soothingly. "It's all in your head baby, none of it's real. Not anymore. You're safe. I'm here."

At the sound of Dante's voice, you relaxed considerably, your arms subconsciously coming up and wrapping around his waist as you clung to him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"I hate this," You wailed, into his shoulder. "I hate being fat, worthless and ugly. I hate it all!"

"Hey now, don't be like that," Dante said, shushing you with a kiss. "You're not worthless or ugly, you're perfect the way you are. Don't be upset over what they said to you. You're amazing and awesome, and I love ya, so damn much, I really do."

Sniffling, you looked up at your boyfriend and saw his warm, genuine smile, and couldn't help but grin as well.

"Thanks, Dante," You said, still hanging onto him like a tired koala to a tree. "I...I needed that."

"You're welcome," Dante chuckled, pressing a kiss to your head. "Now, come on, let's get on with our date."

Dante yanked you to your feet, grabbed onto your hand, and led you out of your bedroom, and as you passed by the mirror and caught sight of your emphasized waist once again, instead of panicking, feeling scared, or upset, you were able to look at your figure and smile. Dante loved you for who you were, and that was all the affirmation you'd ever need.

[whumble-beeee]

Let’s Have A Chat (You’re All Talk)

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 4

Content: brief minor whump in flashbacks, disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, flashbacks (ptsd), gun mention, past captivity references, tied up, torture "threats", begging, tazer,

* * * * * * * *

Except from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[In terms of punishing and torturing your hero, 'fear of the unknown' is one of the most powerful tools available in your psychological torture toolkit; The anticipation of what might happen to them is often more torturous than whatever real tortures you have cooked up for them, and is a wonderful addition to any torture scenario!

It’s a very delicate skill, learning how to use a hero’s own fears against them (excluding villains with fear-based powers), but it is absolutely essential in almost all aspects of hero-keeping; whether you want to torture them for information, beat them into submission and servitude, force them to follow your rules or desires, or just have some good old fashioned fun messing with them!]

* * * * * * * *

“No,” Stan grunted. Enough was enough.

“No?” the mercenary’s voice broke into a small, disbelieving laugh, which just served to make Stan double down harder on what he hoped was the right choice.

“No. We’re not ‘chatting’. Not–” the world tilted on its axis, darkness creeping in his periphery again. Stan leaned his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. “N-not you and me, not now, not–... ever.”

Deeby just hummed another laugh at the display. “You should probably eat that protein bar, bud. Should help a bit with your head. And your mood, you're being such a little asshole right now.”

Stan rolled his eyes, but brought the protein bar up to his face to properly inspect. Though it was more of an accusation as he looked straight past it and narrowed his eyes at the bounty hunter instead.

The mercenary rolled his eyes in kind. “It’s not poisoned. Look, eat the protein bar and I’ll cut the ropes binding your legs, yeah? That good enough for his lordship?”

More than good enough for his lordship. A welcome trade, in fact. Especially since Stan was planning on eating the protein bar anyway. And especially because Deeby could probably just shove it down Stan’s throat if he wanted.

Stan nodded with a small ‘mhm’ before the bounty hunter could take it back. It took him a moment to maneuver the bar so he could open it with the metal of the handcuffs biting into his wrists every single time he pulled them too far apart, but he eventually found himself holding a successfully unwrapped protein bar with only slightly aching wrists.

“I'm eating this because I think I should,” Stan clarified as he brought the bar up to his mouth. It was cookie dough-flavored. Deeby had good taste in protein bars at least. “Not because you told me to, okay?”

“Uh huh, noted. Feeling less like a little shit now?”

Stan took a moment to make a full show of reluctantly nodding, irritated head tilt and all, before cramming the rest of the bar into his mouth. Before long, the ropes binding his feet were no more (after much restraint not to kick Deeby in the face when he got close with the knife again), and the protein bar was gone all too soon.

“Great!” The mercenary clapped his hands together. “Now we can talk! Ya like jazz?”

Stan grit his teeth. This Deeby guy just doesn't quit, does he? He wasn’t going to budge on this, even if he was slightly more fed and less dizzy now. He couldn’t just forget the total beatdown from earlier, the torturous soreness wracking every part of his body made sure of that.

“I'm not. Talking. With you.”

“Something’s gonna happen one way or another, runt. I’m just trying to give you the easy option considering you’re a little fucked in the head right now. Hard way’s not off the table, never will be.”

“We already talked!” Stan tried. “Remember? I asked you your name, you wouldn’t tell me. Then I asked you why you kidnapped me, you wouldn’t tell me! Who you work for, wouldn't tell me! Then you beat the crap out of me, and now I feel like I’m dying and leashed like a damn dog! That’s just gonna happen all over again! Let’s just skip over that so I can go back to dying on the floor, thanks.”

“Oh!” Deeby lit up like a lighthouse on a dark and stormy night, and Stan, for just a brief moment, almost let himself feel the same relief that a sailor might when they saw that spotlight on from the freezing, rain- and wind-swept deck of their lost ship. That he would actually leave Stan be. But then…

“You wanna hear about my gun?”

He pulled the revolver from his hip holster and held it up like a prized trophy. “It’s an original Smith and Wesson 1957 Model 19 revolver, it's pretty famous for being the first handgun to use magnum cartridges and making that a common thing. It was also standard issue for the border patrol in the ‘70s, which is where it came into my family,” he chuckled. Stan could only stare dumbfounded. He was really just going on a rant, huh? 

“One of mis tíos just fuckin’ swiped it from one of the officers and they were pissed, chased after him, nearly caught him too but he managed to wiggle away, slimy little guy. And then my mom was so mad with him, nearly beat him half to death before their mamá even had the chance to. So anyway, I got it when I was just a kid, it was all broken and kinda shitty when I first got it, but it was a family heirloom and I thought it was the coolest thing in the world, so I started to get into it more, started fixing it up a bit, replacing parts until it worked right and fiddling with it until it worked right, then started making upgrades to it, learned how to shoot it–”

”Holy shit!” Stan yelled, lurching to meet the mercenary’s eyes.  “Are you trying to Stockholm Syndrome me or something?! I don’t want to hear about your gun! I don’t want to talk to you, or hear about you! I don’t like you, I hate you, I don't want to have a nice little conversation with my fucking kidnapper! We aren't talking! Ever!”

A moment of silence. Stan realized he had gone too far again as the mercenary's eyes widened in disbelief. 

But he refused to back down this time. 

So he continued to glare into the mercenary’s dark brown eyes.

But then the bounty hunter let out a barking laugh. “Stock–... Sto-ockholm…?” he said, almost to himself, voice airy and high with disbelief. “Na-ah… Nah, no, no...”

His gaze suddenly shot to Stan, face unnervingly blank. Stan tensed up, instinctively pulling his extremities in to protect himself, to make himself smaller. This was… new. 

The mercenary took a few steps toward him. Then a few more. Until he was right in front of Stan, looking down on him like a god would from the heavens above.

“You ever been… tortured?... Stan?”

The soft, weightless lilt of his voice turned Stan’s blood to ice.

"Never stop fighting back."

"Let GO OF ME!" He hit at an uncaring, unyielding fist. "LET GO!!"

"Just tell us about your powers, it doesn't have to get ugly."

Lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie lie.

“N-no-o,” he barely managed to squeak out. His vocal cords may as well have been dunked in ice water. Same as his entire body, with the way he was shaking. Why did he always have to press too far?

“All you gotta do is show us your powers, kid.”

He didn’t move, the light of his powers staying tucked deep in his core. They tazed him again. They'd done it so many times now, it barely even mattered now. He was used to it. He'd never break.

“There's no use fighting, we have ways to force it out of you. We just want to give you a chance to cooperate first.”

Deeby hummed, as if it were quaint to him, the thought that someone could have never possibly been acquainted with the hot, unyielding spindles of torture twisting and morphing them into something unrecognizable, something animalistic, something… altered. Someone to never be the same again.

“I've been tortured.” He chuckled, never breaking Stan’s gaze. “More than once, actually. Hazard of the job.”

He glared into his torturer's bright blue eyes, fires of defiance burning brighter in his own.

“Never.”

 He knew what all their eyes looked like. It was the only thing he could glare at, they always wore medical masks and scrubs and lab coats, so it was the only part of them he could see. So professional to do such visceral, horrendous things.

They tazed him again.

Stan didn’t move. Just stared. Then sputtered slightly. He didn’t know what to say to that. 

The bounty hunter didn’t seem to have such reservations, though. He moved forward wordlessly and crouched down in front of his captive. Stan’s breath hitched. He could hear his heartbeat, feel it pounding in his chest, slow, careful, thunderous. All consuming. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t escape. Were the bounty hunter’s eyes always such a dangerously dark scarlet? No escape at all.

Then Deeby grabbed either of Stan’s biceps, wholly wrapping his hands around Stan’s upper arms, and urged him upward to his feet. “Here, Stan, get up, I wanna show you something.”

The sky-blue eyes flashed to a colleague. “This isn't working. Let's just go with Plan A like I wanted to from the beginning.”

The colleague started to voice their protest but was cut quickly off.

“I don't care how old she is, I know! But being gentle doesn't work, it never does, and it never will! It’s time for the big guns.”

A grown-up hand grabbed his upper arm, drugged him up off the floor, and shoved him forward, iron-gripped no matter how much he kicked and screamed and cried out. Inescapable as he hit and tried to tug away. Unyielding.

“Wait–, wait, no, no, no, please! We–!” Stan cried, unsuccessfully trying to stay wrapped in his little ball of safety on the floor as the force pulled him upward, the dull roar of his beatings from earlier turning once more into a raging insistence of constant strain. “We can talk, we can talk! I just– I can’t– can’t– don’t–... please, please!”

Stan hissed as he put weight on his bad leg in his struggles, and had to practically fall into Deeby’s arm to relieve the agony. 

Deeby didn’t pay the struggling human in his clutches any mind and started to step backward, never once taking his eyes off Stan as he dragged him slowly but surely toward the middle of the room, ankle chain jingling as it dragged across the hard cement floor. “Cálmate, chiquito, te estás poniendo tan alterado. Just do as I say and you’ll be fine.”

Tears burned at his eyes as he tried to grasp at Deeby’s arms, the pressure building up in his sinuses making it so he could barely breathe. It was so much harder to struggle to get away when he had to physically lean on his captor. Torturer.

“I don’t–” his voice cracked as it shot up his register, and he grasped in another breath as tears started to fall. “I do-on’t speak S-s-spani-ish… plea-ease–”

They abruptly reached the end of the ankle chain-leash, and Stan pitched forward with a screech, practically into Deeby’s chest before Deeby stiffened his arms and righted him again. Stan tried to make himself so tremendously small, tried to hide even though he was already captured and chained and physically being held by a man who had shown he wasn’t afraid to, and even enjoyed, hurting him.

And now in the center of the torture room, on the very end of his literal chain.

Nowhere to go.

“Of course you don’t, white boy.” Deeby sighed, a hint of that humorous light shining back in his eyes. He gently grabbed his jaw and tipped his gaze upward. Those bits of red in Deeby’s irises seemed to bleed out into the rest of the world, infecting everything with crimson and scarlet and fire and flames.

The world burned around them. Stan tried to pull away, but the bounty hunter’s grasp held firm.

“It means calm down, chiquito,” he said from somewhere miles away. “You’re getting so worked up, making everything worse for yourself. I won’t hurt–”

Stan seized up and grabbed at Deeby’s arms even as they held him in place, clawed at them, pleading, shaking as tears rolled off his chin, down his neck, and soaked into his shirt.

“PLE-E-EASE!” He cried. “I don’t– I don’t want– I can’t be tortured!” He prayed that wouldn’t be taken as a challenge. “Please don’t… torture me. I can’t… Please.” Not again. Not again.

Deeby looked down upon him, carefully peeling Stan’s trembling fingers off his arms. A small, unnerving smile tugged at the sides of his eyes, like a father looking on as his toddler struggled to produce a finger painting that wasn’t just a staining hideous mess for the hundredth time in a row.

“Who said anything about torturing you, bud? Wait here a moment.”

Deeby shoved away from the quivering mess and made his way over to the wall opposite where Stan’s leash-chain was anchored to the floor, and jumped up to grab the end of a previously unseen chain that, when when the bounty hunter grabbed it off the hook and let the length of it fall free, swung down and hung from the ceiling right next to Stan. 

Stan took a single unconscious step backward from the thing in terror, and immediately his buckled buckled in a flurry of strained agony, sending Stan straight down to a kneel. He clutched at the offending knee joint, cursing the mercenary for making him overwork and twist his knee in that failure of an escape attempt and hurting it so much worse in the first place. At least before he could kind of hobble along without a cane or a crutch. It wasn't pretty, or fun, but he could do it. Now he was practically immobile.

And he just had to hope it would heal correctly.

“Didn’t I just tell you not to move?”

Stan whipped around and nearly toppled over again in the process. “I– I jus–!” 

Two hands grabbed under either of his armpits and hoisted him back up to standing before Stan could even stutter out another terrified plea. He was so dizzy that he was almost thankful that the man grabbed him under the arms to keep him from falling again. Even with how the action in itself made him want to scream.

“Deeby, Deeby, we can talk, we can talk, you don’t–! You don’t have to–”

“Did you just call me ‘Deeby’?” He stopped in his maneuvering Stan, a petrified hush falling over the hero as he forced eye contact once again. “Like the name ‘Deeby’, not the letters ‘D’ and B’?”

“Uh--... No, no…” Stan squeaked.

Deeby’s amused smile faltered just slightly. 

“Don’t lie to me runt, that shit’s funny... Deeby, huh?…” he mused, rolling the name around in his mouth. “Not very creative, but you gotta give points for simplicity… Pft, Deeby… ”

Then his attention shot right back to Stan. “Anyway, stop whining and squirming, I’m about 5 seconds away from actually getting pissed. Are you gonna listen to the story, or we gonna do plan B and actually give you something worth screaming about?”

Stan wanted to keep struggling. Yelling, being defiant, begging, pleading, fighting, something. Those thoughts fueled him as he held the bounty hunter’s gaze; he didn’t want to just roll over and let him do as he pleased with him. But the way the hunter held him now, and the way he physically overpowered Stan time and time again just made him feel like a small, hissing cat uselessly fighting against his owner as they held him high into the air as some sort of punishment. And the fear of something worse happening finally managed to overpower the blind panic that fueled his previous fight. The tiredness continually crept through his bones now, the ache of his injuries starting to once again overpower all other senses.

So when the stare of Deeby became unbearable, Stan pursed his lips and squeezed shut, bowing his head in concession with a small, shaky nod.

He just hoped this lost battle wouldn’t become just one in a never-ending sea of them.

The mercenary let out an infuriatingly triumphant huff. “Great. Don't move. I mean it.” 

Then Deeby let Stan go almost too fast, and he had to readjust to fully supporting his entire battered body again.

He had to shift to support his entire weight on his 'good' leg instead of agitating the bad leg further, or god forbid using his cane or a crutch. Or his powers. The good leg would get painfully sore very quick if he had to just keep standing here. Especially since he was already feeling the bruises from earlier starting to bloom.

But this was better than literally all of the alternatives. He just had to let Deeby talk and hopefully, he wouldn’t torture Stan.

Simple.

He was looking forward to it already.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid

[krak3n23]

Diagnosing Andrew Minyard

An hour long research adventure ft akums razor 

A serious note before we begin. I did this fun, I have no medical background besides also having been on a cocktail of medications for similar symptoms. If a medication is causing you to get worse instead of better: tell your doctor, don't quit cold turkey you might get brain damage, and medications are not a cure all. Thank you and lets begin.

Originally I went into this thinking that Andrew being on an antipsychotic was simply an oversight, or an under researched plot point. However, thinking about the fact that Nora has had this series in her mind for over ten years by the time of publication, I have decided to actually look into the idea. 

I have narrowed down Andrews diagnostic history and medications to two primary options. Either Andrew is on a fictional representation of real life antipsychotic medications or Neil is an unreliable narrator. (or of course… this is an oversight, but I’m not pursuing english to not give authors a benefit of the doubt.) 

There are a few antipsychotics that Andrew’s may be based on, one is ARIPIPRAZOLE. This medication, (like some other generation 2, or atypical antipsychotics), has the adverse side effect of causing an increase in irritation, being overly excited, and having a decrease in risk assessment. Aka, drug induced mania. It can also cause an inability to sleep, a symptom that Andrew experiences. 

The poor research, I think, comes in with another symptom: tardive dyskinesia. This condition is not uncommon in the list of side effects for antipsychotics and is the uncontrolled movement of muscles, like Andrew’s smile, however that is an uncommon form of the symptom. This side effect would also explain why Wymack is okay with Andrew not being on his medications for games. 

Personally I think if Andrew is on an antipsychotic, it would be this one. 

This medication implies Andrew having the diagnosis of Bipolar 1. This is due to Andrew not fitting the criteria of Schizophrenia. These are the two main disorders treated by antipsychotics, which means he likely has one of the two, if he is in fact on antipsychotics. Andrew, to our knowledge doesn’t experience hallucinations off of his medications, therefore he does not have Schizophrenia. 

Now for the second theory, Neil is an unreliable narrator, or the media was just villainizing Andrew further after the incident. There are cases of other medications causing mania, the only set that would make sense for Andrew to be on is antidepressants to treat either OCD, or PTSD. 

Andrew does have PTSD, and it would make sense for him to have become violent when triggered, as he is literally a metaphor for the fight response. Antidepressants are often used to treat the depression and anxiety of PTSD, therefore if this scenario is the correct one, the psychiatrist on Andrew’s case believed the incident to be a fight response due to his PTSD. 

Antidepressants however, rarely cause mania for anyone who doesn’t already have that symptom. This is part of the reason why people with Bipolar disorder often get their diagnosis after going through several combinations of drugs, their brains can have “unpredictable” responses to medications that treat depressive symptoms, and anxiety symptoms, of their disorder. This is why I think Andrew, at the start of the series, has undiagnosed Bipolar disorder. If he had been given a cocktail of medication I would argue he had it diagnosed, however we only hear of one medication. 

Andrew does mention hallucinations due to his medications, not in great detail, but he does seem to believe that during his time on them he had them, and delusions as well. These are both symptoms of severe mania episodes, and are why I think Andrew specifically has Bipolar 1. Drug induced mania is itself a classification under Bipolar, however I think Andrew had that already and the medication simply triggered prolonged manic episodes. Bipolar 2 I would like to rule out because Andrew lacks defining symptoms of Major Depressive disorder, while yes he is depressed, it appears more like Persistent depressive disorder, which according to the DSM-5 is less debilitating and is part of Bipolar 1. In addition to this, Bipolar 2 causes hypomania, which is less severe manic episodes, and quite frankly I think Andrew does have full on manic episodes even off of his medications, such as the incident that got him on the medication in the first place.

Either way, Andrew was not on a good medication for his brain chemistry. Especially since he would miss days and the external manic symptoms would go away, I do actually think he was on an antipsychotic. Some generation 2 antipsychotics do cause manic symptoms, but this is typically noticed during early usage. Andrew’s frequent misuse of the drug, smoking, drinking and usage of a stimulant while medicated, could have prolonged this side effect. Generation 2 antipsychotics are also, as their name suggests, relatively new, especially for when the series is set. All of the side effects may not have been fully understood at this time, and honestly the court probably wanted the situation to go away as soon as possible and therefore didn’t do the routine check-ins with due diligence. If a patient experiences those symptoms for a prolonged time they are supposed to switch over to a new medication. 

So Andrew’s diagnosis, he has PTSD and Bipolar 1 disorder in either scenario and I do think he was on a generation 2 antipsychotic.

[softrozene]

Arthur Comforts Reader with Past Assault

Anon asked: Uh I saw your "comfort fem reader who has experienced an assault" request and Im wondering if I could get a scenario instead but with Arthur and a male reader ? like I'f you know /that/ one encounter Arthur has with a creepo arther could be comforting and helpful to m!r since no one helped him thank you ro

rdr2 masterlist

Unfortunately, I do know the encounter you are talking about. I ran into him on my first playthrough and was in shock that it was a thing. I thought I was getting robbed but no I honestly think it is a “good” (honestly traumatizing though) encounter to bring awareness that this kind of thing happens to males too but sad that Arthur does end up bottling it in or gets all grumpy when Bill brings it up.

Either way, I did enjoy writing this for comfort and I love that Arthur would want to help in this situation. The relationship here can be taken as platonic or romantic and there will be solid and dumb advice.

Once again let me remind you all, that you are all so worthy, so loved, and valuable.

Originally published on March 9, 2020

Arthur Morgan x Male Reader

Warnings: Angst, PTSD, mentions of past sexual assault, fluff/comfort

Words: ~900

-

The first thing you notice when you jolt awake is how uncomfortably sweaty you are. The slightly cold air brings some relief as you realize it is still nighttime. That you are under a tent and can hear the snores of the fellow gang members.

Sitting up, you wince upon remembering the nightmare you just had. The disgust and anger become strong as you stand up and go look for a bottle of alcohol. Anything to not remember that terrible hellish nightmare.

The campfire flames illuminate the drunk passed out faces near it.

You huff and go for one of their long-forgotten bottles. However, you freeze upon seeing a tired-looking Arthur watching. He offers an exhausted smile.

“What are you doing up (Name)?” His weary voice reaches your ears.

The phantom touches you feel from your nightmare make you sick to your stomach. You hunch over ready for any sort of sickness to come out but instead, you just remain that way. Arthur comes up and gently pats your back to try and help.

“You good?” He questions after a minute.

You shake your head and stand up straight. It is obvious you weren’t from the immediate latch your mouth has on the bottle. You take a few gulps before you look at the tired man. The scowl on his face grows as does the worry in his eyes.

“Y’know if you need to talk, I’m all ears.”

You grumble, “It’s stupid.”

“If it’s making you cry it ain’t stupid.”

You’re crying? The thought makes your cheeks warm-up in embarrassment and the anger for your past assailant grow. Arthur sighs as he starts to walk off. He pauses slightly to look back at you.

“C’mon. Let’s go for a walk.”

He heads for a small trail that leads just a bit away from camp. You follow desperate to ignore these stupid thoughts and feelings. Once only the moon illuminates the surrounding areas, Arthur stops walking.

He turns to you but is patient in letting you gather your thoughts.

“Stupid nightmare,” You murmur.

He says nothing as he waits for you to continue. Upon not seeing any kind of judgment come from him, you do continue, your voice shaking with anger and slight fear. The hesitance was the first thing he heard until you continued and your confidence in him grew.

“I woke up from a goddamn nightmare. Something happened to me quite a while ago. It’s stupid because I’m a grown-ass man who got hurt. I got hurt real bad. It’s stupid because I should’ve prevented it or something. I should be over it, but I’m not. I just want these feelings to go away, this goddamn fear I feel-“

You choke up and stop talking. The tears are coming out strong now and Arthur heaves out a sigh. He was confused for a moment before he recognized those feelings.

“Someone hurt you?” It comes out more like a question but it is the answer.

The nod you give makes him sigh again. No one was there for him when it happened. In fact, he got made fun of at the suggestion of thanks to Bill. The least he can do is provide the much-needed comfort no one showed him.

“Those feelings don’t go away… Or they haven’t for me,” He starts.

Once you realize that he’s admitting something similar happened to him, you are all ears. You are desperate for the feeling of not being alone.

He continues. “I got taken advantage of too. Was stupid of me. Could’ve prevented it too I bet but I didn’t. A guy from a swamp knocked me out and did some pretty vulgar stuff. He’s dead now. I went back and fed him to the alligators. It should make me feel better but it doesn’t.”

Arthur stops talking for a second and looks at you. You are in shock that even Arthur went through something like this. You ask, “How do you feel better ‘bout it? How do you get the nightmares to stop?”

“Time. It may seem stupid but time heals wounds. It could take a lifetime or a week but it will happen. Everyone is different. For me, I try to ignore it.  It doesn’t stop the nightmares. Knowing that I could be that vulnerable ‘course hurts but it happened… And I’m rambling. Listen, you gotta find what works for you. You ended up venting to me. I haven’t done that because it ain’t my style. Venting may work for you and I will always be ears. We can get drunk if you want. Or go and feed the alligators the person who hurt you. Maybe get Hosea’s input. We can try a few things, see what works best,” Arthur finally states.

You nod and fall silent. He groans a little bit before adding in, “What happened to us, it doesn’t make us any less of a man. We ain’t like those cowards who did that shit. You ain’t alone in this.”

You are still angry and hurt but that’s too be expected. Right now you feel a lot better after talking to Arthur. You feel confident in confiding in him.

Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder and states with a smile, “I am proud of you for at least talking to someone ‘bout this.

[dootznbootz]

I wanted to ask you a deep question about a what if scenario, what do you think would've happened if the suitors successfully killed Telemachus and how would it affect the overall plot, most importantly, Odysseus and Penelope?

Thank you for the ask! Oh, no... :')

Ofc, I'm not Homer so I don't know everything but holy shit. I DO think Athena may have possibly stepped in, or if he was still killed, she would have helped Penelope. (all of them being her faves) If I were to use as an AU in my writing, I'll have to explain somethings :'D

If I were to do this as an AU in my works, I'd probably have her seek refuge with the Naiads, as that already happens in my fics. Odysseus has a shitton of canals in the castle as the reason WHY he partially went to Sparta during Helen's suitors is to get supplies as I plan to have Ithaca and some of the islands he rules over get hit by a minor quake the fucked up the castle. (he already had plans in motion, just needed supplies.) When he met Penelope and learned how she basically needed access to Water always, he sent NEW blueprints/plans back as he wanted to make her happy and give her what she needed. His thoughtfulness eases Icarius and Periboea's worries about him and her going to live on a "rock".

More to it but yeah. It's built in a way where it'd be impossible to go through if you're not a naiad or naiad born as you'd drown...Penelope and Telemachus HAVE found some suitor's bodies in these areas, as the islands don't have MANY Naiad born (especially not at marriageable age. Some naiads, seeing how happy Penelope is and having watched her and Odysseus act, thought "...That sounds nice. Wonder if I could get that." so there are SOME young naiads born eventually on Ithaca)

The pool/canal that's basically in their chamber, needs a special puzzle solved so therefore not even naiad born could get through. (She wasn't completely cooped up. She snuck out through this way to the caves.)

Even then, I plan for her to mention to the beggar that once Telemachus can inherit the throne safely, she'll probably be a Naiad full time as to not get married again. So if Telemachus was killed, she'd do that.

Possibly try to get control over the island in some ways as the suitors will obviously be pissed as "where's the queen?"

When Odysseus comes it's obviously a very...hard moment for them. Odysseus obviously never got to truly meet what his son grew up to be even for that short while... :'D And they'd probably kind of do the same as the Odyssey.

Afterward though? I might rewrite some things and make it so that they're 46-47 instead of 45 when they reunite but idk for sure. An heir is needed though (and even then I do kind of plan to have them have a child afterward as holy shit, the drama??? The mixture of joy and pain each family member has???ksdl SO MUCH FUN TO THINK ABOUT. :'D )

Odysseus and Penelope, being aspec and just straight up not wanting others won't hear anything about concubines just like they did before. He does what he said before Telemachus was born: "I'm ripped up from that Boar, I am to blame. Even if I had others it's not likely. Leave us alone."

ANYWAYS!

If they can't have an heir they'd probably talk about stealing a child... Like they talked about before Telemachus happened. :P

Look, they're basically obsessed with each other and also fucked up as hell sometimes. Odysseus killed Astyanax, I think he'd steal a baby so he wouldn't have to be with any other.

Also with Odysseus' trauma from the rapes? He has PTSD and Penelope is really the only one he feels safe around with it. War PTSD is something else entirely but Penelope, the only person he's ever wanted, makes him feel safe. Her reassuring him that she loves him and doesn't blame him, is what helps him alongside time :')

They eventually have an heir but also... Telemachus is constantly on both of their minds. Especially Penelope's as she raised him. :')

[msfbgraves]

Lowkey wish Daniel got stabbed with the knife instead, and Terry rushed up to him before anyone else, absolutely horrified and realizing that this is not what he ever wanted to happen to Danny boy.

Ah, you chose violence! If I wrote that, there wouldn't be much catharsis to be had. In a very twisted sense, they both already know there is a bond there. I don't think you'd need a knifing to bring that out. That's not what Terry wants, he wants Danny boy in pain and afraid. Why, because he's a sadist? Partly. But with Terry I think it's part of his ptsd. Nam and other vets have told more than once that their biggest problem coming home is a feeling of not being able to connect. Nobody has even the slightest inkling what their feelings have been and how deep they went. "I want him to experience pain in every part of his body, and fear in every part of his mind" - because I want to be on the other side this time, yes - again with the cage you weirdo - but how else can my love get me? See me? Connect with me?

Mr Miyagi didn't choose that path, but he chose almost complete isolation. Daniel pulled him out of there. Miyagi also needed to show Daniel his deepest pain. And Daniel stayed with him. Terry simply has this need to act out his trauma, he can't sit with it. It always spurs him into something very drastic. And Daniel can still come very close to him through that - boy can that boy withstand a beating - but that is not their issue. Terry betrayed him. Used his love against him and that's not... To use Daniel's own heart against him...They haven't reconciled that. And that is the reason why I think in the above scenario, Daniel wouldn't waste a single breath on him, but focus everything on Sam, declare his undying love, apologize for a million things that aren't his fault, beg her to give his love to Amanda and Anthony and Robby, tell Johnny to take care of the kids, and if Terry would be sobbing and holding him he'd be like: "Not NOW, Terry!"

If these two are to reconcile, Terry needs to stop trying to trick him into things, that's their problem in the first place. Not that they feel a bond - Daniel likes being scared by Terry a little. It's exciting. It's hot. But it's the trust with these two.

[andreabandrea]

i really love post-game headcanons where frisk refers to flowey, either jokingly or seriously, as their best friend. their dynamic is so interesting to me, like. flowey feels like anyone who sees him and knows his secret will only want to have asriel back, but frisk never knew asriel. on the other hand, they know flowey - and flowey is the only other one who knows what it's like to save and reset.

and that gives frisk a connection that they don't have with the rest of their friends and family. even though in the true pacifist ending, things are all fine and dandy now, there could very easily still be trauma of like - every monster trying to and succeeding in killing them (except papyrus, who just beats them near unconscious and throws them in a shed). and if they did any neutral routes, they might have killed also, and nobody knows about it or remembers it except them. even despite killing and being killed, just the trauma of resetting and being forgotten and starting over several times could weigh on a person - granted, frisk is a very determined person, but still.

i think the concept that frisk doesnt want to change flowey, but instead meet him where he is, would be intriguing to flowey - and in some circumstances, i could see that being enough to convince him to come to the surface - and this has always been more interesting to me than "saving asriel"-type endings. some things can't be taken back. trauma can't be erased - but you can still move forward with your loved ones by your side.

i think frisk and flowey would help each other heal. frisk initially tried to run away from the surface for a reason, and maybe not a good reason - asriel implies maybe they were trying to end their life by climbing a mountain nobody returns from. flowey has a whole load of trauma that i surely don't need to elaborate on - but i will anyway.

a lot of flowey mischaracterizations stem from the reader taking his words at face value. in new home in the no mercy run, flowey expresses that he's emotionless and nothing but a heartless killer. a lot of fics tend to write flowey as nothing but a perfect calculating killing machine because the readers believe him. but his actions tell a different story; flowey loses his patience with the whole "i'm here to teach you about love" act if you dodge his bullets three times - it's childish, in a way, because he is a child and he's mad that he's not winning at this game. flowey clearly expresses sadness, anger, and in the no mercy route just a bit after new home - fear. (the way i've written it in the past is that he's constantly disassociating from himself and the world by portraying his death and trauma as part of a game, and the way he deals with emotions is filtered through this ptsd-like view, but i dont want to act like i'm the best flowey writer in the world or anything, i've also made a lot of mistakes).

regardless, flowey is, at the end of the day, also a child like frisk. he wants to seem scary to them, and in the no mercy run, he's trying to sound cool and appeal to "chara" - that's why he acts the way he does. it's like a child trying to scare another child or act tough for a beloved sibling.

flowey has also done terrible things to frisk; they're not exempt from the list of monsters that tried to and succeeded in killing them. and although i think all the other monsters can and would be helpful and healing toward frisk and flowey, there's something valuable about a bond like - "we went through this together." if frisk can forgive someone like asgore who succeeded in killing 6 humans, killed them a handful of times, and also made them kill him, i think frisk can forgive flowey.

this comes down more to headcanon, but i think the way that frisk and flowey would interact in this post-game scenario is that, like. flowey would never admit weakness directly. he would feign disinterest in the surface and its denizens, but only because he's afraid. afraid that people wouldn't want him around. afraid because he doesn't know what happens next and if he deserves to see it. afraid of what he could do. but if he, soulless that he is, ever did try to do anything harmful, frisk is the one person who could easily stop him. (not that they would have to - flowey only killed out of boredom, not out of a real enjoyment of it; with so much to do on the surface, and no reset as a failsafe, i can't imagine flowey starting to kill again).

i think frisk would be able to read between the lines about when flowey is hurt and upset and try to comfort him without making him feel weak. we see frisk's kindness and mercy scare and upset flowey once (post-photoshop flowey fight), but those aren't normal circumstances - flowey hadn't grown as much then as he has by the end of the true pacifist route. i think, with time, flowey could come to accept he deserves to exist as he is and accept kindness, and show it in his own way

without the ability to reset (barring the true reset), anything that happens from now on is permanent. flowey in the game relies heavily on his knowledge of past resets; without that, he's forced to admit (albeit if only to himself) that he's not as smart and powerful as he likes to claim. it's a scary new world, and the future isn't written, but i think flowey would be willing to face it again with frisk - someone he always wished he had as a friend.