#they're so cringe. this isn't okay :c

[aboyisagunasterisk]

okay you guys like these so hi :3

[triaelf9]

"Men and women can't compete on the same level" yes they can if they're TRAINED for it. The only thing is men are fucking scared b/c the patriarchy has been telling them for YEARS that if a woman "beats" them they're weak.

And if that isn't the most cringe shit

So I used to play soccer. And by play soccer, I was on the top California girls team in middle school, and by top, I mean we took first in every tournament and qualified for nationals where we got 5th (coulda done better, we had NASTY injury luck & winning team cheated)

Our guys team, basically what we were but all boys, was equally good, and also went to nationals with us. We used to practice at the same time, neighboring fields. At the end of practice, we would scrimmage and 9 times out of 10 we kicked their asses b/c we were THAT good

The only time they complained about it was the time their best player wasn't feeling well, then they were like "okay so our best player wasn't feeling well, it wasn't our best against your best" which was fair. When boys in MIDDLE SCHOOL react better than men online, OOF

Anyway, it's all this patriarchy baggage, the usual racist shit, and now also transphobia, so it's just a pile of things ppl are getting into cringe hate storms about. I'd say grow up & be less weird but like, age clearly isn't the factor here as my experience has shown :P

As a bonus example, the top folks in Aichi for naginata are mostly all women, and the person who won internationals recently was a lady from our prefecture. And in smaller tournaments sparring is mixed, and last year, I beat my male opponent who, incidentally, beat me years ago

They DO annoyingly separate at prefecture level tournaments, but a secret goal of mine is to train hard enough to get into one of the men-only ones b/c that'd be hilarious XD Then again, I am a "scary" foreigner, so they'll probably be like "ooh it's b/c she's a buff american" lol

[sysmedsaresexist]

Something about that last post just really fucking irked me.

Normalize asking questions about your experiences and things you're not clear on

Yesterday, I had to ask some friends a question.

Any uterus having people that have had the electro therapy on their back-- very specific but Google isn't helping

Can the electricity on the lower back cause a period???

Wow, fucking cringe, what a faker, doesn't even know how her own uterus works, how do you make it this far in life and not know this stuff, FAKE UTERUS

I was so embarrassed to ask. I was scared, too.

And yet, I got an answer that I hadn't been able to find on my own.

Yes, it can happen.

Nice!

Well, first off, A, thank God I'm not hurt or dying, that's a relief. B, no one laughed. C, this shit isn't common knowledge.

Even if you think it's obvious, it's not.

Things can be related in the weirdest ways, and sound totally strange at first, and they turn out to be totally normal experiences.

What is dissociation?

Doctors say it's super complicated to understand, don't worry, you're not alone.

What's the difference between normal and pathological dissociation?

Oh, boy, let's sit down for this one.

What's the difference between trauma and abuse?

Fantastic question, first, are you doing okay? Second, it's complicated.

Could these two symptoms be related?

FUCKING PROBABLY, let's talk about it.

All these overgeneralized, sweeping statements, made under the guise of "correcting misinformation," and really only trying to prove people wrong instead of educate, hurt other people with that thing.

"Your doctor is ALWAYS right," fuck you, no they're not. "They know you better than you know yourself." Ohhh, fuck no, that's dangerous. "You MUST fit the criteria 😤."

The criteria:

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO HELP?

Because you're failing spectacularly at doing any kind of good for the community you want to "help".

You lost the point so hard that your posts are now actively dangerous to people with CDDs that don't think clinically enough for you. You lost the point when you use papers that directly contradict each other over basic facts, and don't even realize it in your rush to be "right".

"Trust your doctor 100%," about any other disorder, would get you instantly canceled. Are you overweight? A POC? A woman? Trans? A combination? Well, you're fucked.

You, yourself, have probably never thought that.

So why did you say it?

Who cares what they're calling themselves, who cares whether the term is clinical, are they getting the help and support they need? Can we help clarify anything for them?

Using a people focused approach in therapy is totally fine, THIS HAS NEVER BEEN AN ISSUE. It may be a doctor-focused issue, but it's not a treatment issue. In other words, for every doctor that prefers a parts focused approach, there's one that'll use a people focused approach just fine, if that's what you want to do. Good job getting into therapy, congrats! That's what's important.

"Fictives," are so well documented that complaining about them is laughable.

Alters can take years to come forward after events, and may latch onto a character years after their actual formation. Who cares if the person can pinpoint the cause, or if they don't even care enough to try, are they getting the help and support they need???

Instead of saying, "that's impossible," let's start asking, "how can I help?"

Instead of saying, "your opinion is wrong," let's address actual misinformation. Talk to pro/endos about the trauma basis of DID. That matters a fuck ton more than whatever you're arguing about.

Instead of laughing at people who don't know things, learn to socialize and present corrections in a pleasant conversation. God forbid you're seen "being nice," to the other side.

As a very good friend said, better than I ever could, this whole "prioritizing research always over listening to others' lived experiences" is just the plural version of "academic theory on queer experiences is most important." You need both.

Many things can be true, all at the same time. Opinions are onions, they all make me cry or whatever the saying is. Single research papers should never be used generally. If you put all the papers together, anything is possible. This paper doesn't specifically talk about that thing so it's not possible.

Another paper, just a click away:

Are people happy, healthy, and feeling supported in their life?

Fantastic, that's what matters.

This blog is open to basic questions that people are scared to ask. I would also highly recommend sending @cdd-safe-haven those kinds of questions. It's completely unrelated to syscourse, hopefully the information will help more people.

[yoyomomiko]

Opposites

Pairing: Craig x F!reader

Summary: You and Craig have known each other ever since first grade, and the two of you got to be very good best friends. What's standing in the way of becoming even more? The fact that the both of you are polar opposites. There's surely no way YOU TWO could ever work in a relationship, right?

Warnings: Swearing, cringe, rushed!!

“That's childish, what are you, a toddler?”

“No... I'm all grown up!”

It was useless having arguments like these, really. It happened all the time, and you tried to ignore all the judgement, but it was just messing you up badly!

“No you're not! No older kid would still play with stuffed toys!”

“That's not very nice, you know?”

“Like i care! You're-”

“How about you fuck off?”

Craig's monotone voice cut off the other kid, flipping him off. Despite the other kid wanting to stand his ground, he just left, stomping away in annoyance.

“Are you alright? You should stop being such a people pleaser.” He stated simply in his 'i don't care' tone.

“Sorry, i just... It's hard being mean. Everybody deserves kindness in their life, at least once, they should feel like they're being cared about, no matter what.”

Craig's eyes lit up a bit, but he shook his head with a sigh.

“I can't convince you otherwise. Let's just play, there's still time left for recess.”

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“Ay! I'm not fat, i'm big boned you dipshit!”

“I never called you fat, i just told you that eating food off the floor isn't-”

“I FUCKING DROPPED IT AND IT'S NOT GOING IN THE TRASH!”

“I understand, but there's a lot of bacteria on the floor, and you could get sick!”

“You ruined a perfectly good meal!”

“I didn't, i just-”

“Leave already!”

That's Cartman for you... You were already used to his sudden tantrums or bursts of anger, also to his insults. But that didn't mean you couldn't be kind to him, right?

You snapped out of your thoughts as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned around to see a familiar face, and probably your favourite one too.

“Craig!” Your eyes shined brightly as soon as you saw him, all while he walked away with you to his lunch table, along with his gang and Tweek.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, a gentle smile on your face as the others greeted you.

“Cartman's a weirdo, he snapped all of the sudden, just because you cared for him.” Craig stated in his usual monotone voice, glancing to Cartman's table, then back at your happy face.

“I know how Cartman is, but so what?” You smiled at Craig's confused look, “Even if someone's being mean, it won't hurt to be kind! It makes you happier, and i feel better every single time i help someone!” You informed the ravenatte, all while the gang just watched you speak what seemed like nonsense to them.

“Yeah, b-b-b-but, C-Cartman's an a-ass.” Jimmy spoke for the others. You shrugged your shoulders and tilted your head to the side, a smile glued to your face.

“I know, but like i said, kindness doesn't hurt.”

You didn't belong in South Park.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“It's on!” You grinned at the boy in front of you, who looked like he tried his best not to smile too much.

“Whatever, whatever, i do what i want!” Craig tried his best to mimic Cartman's voice, trying not to laugh.

You, on the other hand, were already laughing like crazy.

“I'm not fat, i'm big boned!” You mimicked Cartman's voice almost perfectly, while Craig couldn't hold back anymore, and let out a laugh as well.

“Okay, i have to admit, you did it better.” Craig calmed down his laughter to speak out his sentence, before chuckling a bit more.

“I thought you were sweet, yet you're making fun of someone by copying their voice.” Craig leaned into you, probably a bit too close.

“Well... Y'know, it's not really rude... I mean, i'm not saying it to his face, am i?” You stood your ground, heart fluttering inside your chest.

Craig looked away and nodded, glancing at his feet. Suddenly, you felt a hand on top of yours, making you turn your head slightly, catching a glimpse of Craig holding your hand.

His cheeks were tinted pink now, smile long gone, as you stared at him.

You blushed too, face heating up. Craig's heart was pounding in his chest, so loud that he was sure you'd hear it.

You felt the corners of your lips tug upward, mouth forming a smile.

Craig turned to you, gaze fixated on your eyes. You examined his face, while he couldn't bear to watch you anymore, turning his head away quickly as he let go of your hand in embarassment.

You leaned over to him, catching his hand in yours again, making him flinch slightly, before he melted into your touch.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

“There's no way...” Clyde perked up, checking out the way you and Craig held hands as you walked through the halls.

“W-What? ACK! T-that's...” Tweek trailed off, just as surprised.

“You guys HAVE to be blind, haven't you seen how the two of them acted with each other?” Tolkien crossed his arms. He was already expecting something to go on between you and Craig.

“B-But i t-tought they were a-already togheter...” Jimmy butted in, scanning the faces of his surprised friends.

[jajasmiinee]

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

PANIC ATTACK - STURNIOLO TRIPLETS

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

warnings : fluff, cringe, bad grammar,

y/n

chris

nick

matt

english isn't my first language so i'm terribly sorry if there's any english error

enjoyyy !

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you and your brothers are fliming a car video when you suddenly get a panic attack

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

"what's your worst trauma?" matt read the question, yall are making a Q.N.A video. "oh my biggest trauma is when.." chris start to tell the fan about his worst trauma while you in the back starting to feel uneasy. you start to stare blankly outside, your heart feels heavy, your head spinning, your throat feel stuck, you couldn't even hear a thing. you were afraid because this happened before and you did not liked it.

"y/n? y/nn? heyy??" nick wave his hands infront of you, making you come back to reality "u-uh.. yea..?" you tried to hide your stutter and anything that's bothering you "are you okay?" matt ask in confusion, you're sure that matt knew that something is off

"yea i'm okay" you reassured them but that doesn't make they less care about how you sudden behavior "it's your turn to tell about your worst trauma now" matt smiles while pointing at the camera "c-can i skip?" "yea of course!" chris already notices that you're not okay, maybe the question are a bit hard for you to answer

your hands started to shake and you felt dizzy. your eyes roaming to each of your brothers faces while your breath shortened. "mn.." you let out a really quiet whine that you thought none of them heard but nick look at you in concerned eyes "shh.. it's okay.. relax.." nick finally notices your panick attack, so he took your hands and caresses them, sending comfort into your soul.

you also looked at matt and chris but they're busy talking to the camera. after a few seconds, matt looked at nick and you "is y/n okay?" matt looks at the back, staring at nick "yea, she's just having a panick attack" nick rub your back slowly to prevent you from crying or having a worse reaction "oh shoot. it's okay, y/n, look at me"

you look at matt with tears in your eyes "ye-yea?" chris stop talking to the camera, he knew you're having a panick attack but he doesn't really sure before, well, he's sure now. he give you a comforting smile and caresses your hair slowly "breath in.." matt's breathing in for you to follow "and out.." chris continue. you followed them, even though your breath kinda hitches but you managed to get a proper breathing. the breathing technique really helps you out when you get a sudden panic or anxiety attack

"h-ah.." your panick attack stopped after a few minutes and you felt really relief "thank you guys. sorry to take most of the video time" "no,no, it's okay. let's continue yea?" you nodded in approvement. and y'all continue to answer the Q.N.A

----------------------------- ☆ -----------------------------

guys idek what i'm writing 😭 GIRLLLL I THOUGHT THIS WAS LONGER WHY SO SHORTTTT

[fanfic-inator795]

Bad Guys 2 spoilers

Don't read if you haven't seen the leak yet

Okay, so... for as much as I did - AND STILL VERY MUCH DO - ship Wolf and Snake... I think I may be in the minority here in that I don't necessarily mind Snake having a girlfriend in the sequel.

a) the books already hinted at Doom having feelings for Snake, so it makes sense they'd want to expand on that here

b) they already have a fun dynamic, and even if Doom isn't still an edgy goth crow like she was in the books, as long as she's still fairly sardonic, I could see why her and Snake would get along well

and c) so far at least, it seems like the film's going to be treating their romance as a pretty comedic element (and tbf, I did laugh at their kiss and the Bad Guys' reactions to it)

As for Wolf and Snake - again, if we look at the books, for as much as they both have other relationships (whether they be with other friends or with their respective love interests - or, in Snake's case, manipulator) - they still very much see each other as THE most important person in their life.

If you'll excuse me for being a tad cringe, I personally sort of think of them as like Meredith and Christina from "Grey's Anatomy" - they're each other's Person. Someone they'll always be there for, ride or die, no matter what. They're partners through and through, basically that Secret Third Thing between 'platonic' and 'romantic' that's still just as important as being best friends or lovers.

Given that they're bringing in a space ship (which implies they may get into the stuff that happens in the middle books) frankly, as long as they show Wolf and Snake caring about each other and being willing to still save one another, I'm able to accept them also having romantic relationships with Diane and Doom respectively.

Honestly, just give me a scene where Snake helps calm Wolf down, or where he calls Wolf "The best thing that's ever happen to me," and we're golden.

[spectralstitions]

lil oc animatic :]

Okay, okay, so if you follow my private Twitter account I know I said I wasn't going to share this publicly BUT I remembered I have an oc blog and you know what, I figure the only people who are going to see this are the people who can handle my cringe anyways, so I made it an unlisted youtube video. I made this in 2 days and It's set to the tune of Harpy Hare by Yaelokre because sometimes I get to be a basic bitch, as a treat.

I planned some of the animatic visually in my head before I started but 99% of the frames ended up being stream of consciousness, just whatever I came up with in the moment. Including the designs for three characters! I knew that if i tried to plan literally anything I would have ended up not finishing or maybe not even starting this. I did still try my best to make it cohesive and I wanted it to be mostly understandable, but at the same time I know nobody knows my ocs the way I do so it's very possible this is just a mess to everyone who isn't me lol. But that's why i'm here to ramble on and on and on and on....... So first point of discussion! The two mystery characters in the beginning! I tried to make it clear in other parts of the animatic but those are Silas' and Finlay's parental figures, respectively.

The first character who appears is Faust. That was supposed to be a placeholder name but I can't get it out of my head so they are Faust now. They are Silas' caretaker and the person Silas' parents trusted to take care of him when they gave him up. Faust took Silas out of the desert (despite his many protests...) and raised him among mostly deerkin. Culture in the Southern Havens is very concerned with manners, fitting into norms, and being knowledgable about highly specific superstitions, among other things. So despite Silas' best efforts, he is literally fucking Blue, has horns, and is also neurodivergent, so he never stops feeling like an outcast. Plus, the forest roof is so thick that it's really hard to see the stars at night, which depresses him because in the desert the entire world looks like a night sky! Secretly Faust would like for Silas to think of them as a parental figure, but Silas never really does; he views them more like a permanent babysitter than anything. Faust is also perhaps overly gentle on Silas and though he will express that he wishes he got out more he can't bring himself to actually push him to do anything that makes him uncomfortable, partially out of affection for him and partially because he feels so guilty about bringing him to the forest in the first place.

The second character is Finlay's dad, who is... a character! You will notice that he is absent from 99% of the animatic, just like how he was absent from 99% of Finlay's life!

In many of the frames I was very intentional about the use of lighter and darker tones and there's no way I can talk about every instance in this post so, I guess pay attention to all that for symbolism! The one thing I will mention are Silas' eyes! Which become dark but gain brightness again when Finlay gives him hope for the future, and they stay bright even when he loses that dream because in place of romanticism he gains clarity.

Last couple of things to note before I move on!! For the parts with Faust and Finlay's dad, I designed the side decorations after the types of patterns that each culture that they're associated with (Southern Havens & the Farlands, respectively) tends towards! And, I also indicated time passing using both Silas' horns and Finlay's hood (it gains stitches as he gets older). Finlay's hood also symbolizes when he's hiding his true self vs when he's not >:) And actually I think we are now at the last point I wanna discuss so!! THIS GUY!!! THIS FELLA!!!!!!!! I'M REALLY REALLY HAPPY I MADE SOMETHING THAT ACTUALLY GIVES ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THEM!!!!! So get ready for a lore dump on this guy...

This is why animatics / comics are great for me because it forces me to actually design the characters I need to design LOL

OKAY! SO! In terms of direct relevance to the animatic, all that's important to know is that this is the spirit that haunts Finlay! Or at least, the one he believes is haunting him... he's not really sure anymore....

So let me explain the character's deal! Firstly, and this goes for pretty much any spirit, pronouns don't really matter, so anything is fine. I also haven't given them a name yet (rip), I need to figure out those naming conventions first. For now they're just Finlay's Spirit. This spirit's shtick is that they seek out those who have been (or feel as though they have been) "left behind" and offer them belonging and love in the form of.... weaving their souls into little stuffed dolls for their oh so beloved collection. According to the stories, their grounds are littered with shallow, hastily dug graves wherein they dump any remains of the body they deem disposable. When they pull their hood over their face, it disguises them as kinfolk, usually taking a form that represents whatever type of belonging the victim yearns for (for example, for Finlay it was a parental figure). When they approach someone they frame it as "come with me i'll give you a home :]" or possibly "let's make a deal :]" but if the person refuses they will drop the act and take their soul (or whatever it is that they want) by FORCE if ya know what I mean!!! (Which is actually not very common, even for evil spirits. They can usually respect no as an answer specifically because they make it so hard to do. Guess this guy REALLY likes their doll collection. There's only one real way to get away from them and it doesn't look like Finlay is gonna figure it out anytime soon...)

Design-wise! Their true body is obscured and amorphous. They cover themselves in stitched-together fabric scraps with only their face and seeming hundreds of arms/hands ever peeking out of the ensemble. Their fingers are sewing needles and they move very stiffly, almost as if they are moving at a lower frame rate than everything around them. (This remains as a subtle tell when they're disguised!) Their teeth are thin and pointy and stick out in such a way that their mouth almost appears sewn shut when closed.

Like just about any evil spirit they simply get pure joy out of tormenting poor kinfolk. So oftentimes, they will torment a victim for a very long time until the person has finally lost their hope and can be willingly taken. And then they get to remain as a sentient functionless doll and the spirit gets to revel in all their misery for the rest of eternity yayyyyy!!!!!! :]

Finlay has only had one verifiably real encounter with this spirit when he was a child wherein he refused it and it took after him as if to kill him. But it disappeared suddenly and Finlay has been terrified of it ever since because he knows it could be anywhere and anyone. I do want to make it clear that even though this character does physically exist and is a part of the narrative, they're also... kind of a symbol in themselves? Like, in a META sense, Finlay's trauma does not LITERALLY come from this spirit, but from what the spirit represents. Does that make any sense!!! In writing him it's a really careful balance for me to strike because I want everything to be grounded in reality but I also want that reality to be exaggerated for fantastical and storytelling purposes... ya know!!

Okay well!! That's everything I can think to talk about for now, but please feel free to ask if you have any questions about anything!!!! Because that would be fun!!!!! Until next time! :]

[lowkeyrobin]

my rules!

disclaimer! my blog is best read on the tumblr dark mode, so if you're in any other theme, sorry if some text looks like shit or if dividers look kinda wonky

^also dont use my banners without permission, if you aren't gonna ask at least give me credit idk it makes me a little eh yk?

dream team stans + wilbur soot/lovejoy stans dni. same w anyone who idolizes/defends abusers/creeps in general.

if you're a bigot (racist, homo/transphobe, abelist, antisemite, zionist, etc) please leave

same with proshippers/proship defenders/anyone who sexualizes actors/characters/ppl especially when they state that's not okay/they're minors. ( lots of actors probably don't even know what fanfiction or fandomculture is, just respect them as actual ppl and don't be weird about them)

^ I don't condone parasocial people/activity. if you are parasocial, creepy or invasive, please block me. do NOT interact with my content nor read it. you're not welcome here

if you use ai to write/draw/anything BLOCK ME. youre not an artist or a writer, go touch grass, you must have a 1st grade reading/drawing level if you're seriously that desperate. ; that goes for template editors too... I'm an editor myself, it's not hard to learn. get out bruh that's cringe 💀

any adults who say minors dni and then interact with minors dni yall annoying

if you request a person/character who isn't on my list then there's a big chance I'll ignore it lol I'm sorry, those are just ppl ik the most and I can make not very ooc and I'm comfy writing ab them!

don't request any smut. it makes me and most of the ppl I write about uncomfortable lmao

I only write they/them / gn readers, sorry. I will write transmasc/transfem readers but only if requested, and bare with me on that cause I'm just a little nonbinary guy, idk much about being trans masc/fem

respect me as a person, I'm not a robot, I'm a real human lmao

please please tell me if using cc's real names or writing about them is against their boundaries so I can fix my mistakes!!

I don't write anything w pregnancy tropes, kids (other than qsmp eggs) and character versions of cc's (mostly bc I can't remember a lot of c! lore and whatnot), aus (other than soulmate & apocalypse aus and maybe some others, shoot your shot) incest, rape, stepcest, age regression (personal discomfort) age play, etc

if a person/character has (platonic) next to them, that's me warning you I might only do platonic stuff with them because I don't feel romantic attraction to 12yos (I'm not weird, you don't have to worry about me lol)

^with that just note that anything I write about those can be viewed as mostly platonic and I in no way find the child I'm writing about romantically attractive, thank you

I'm okay writing poly relationships! just don't be weird w it

don't sexualize anyone I write about!

it doesn't matter if they're adults or just fictional characters, I find it wrong to sexualize people who prob don't even know what fandom culture is / sexualize their every move. find another blog if you're that mad about it. (I mean as in its your whole personality, just keep it away from me lol)

[feralkwe]

ship ask game. pre-relationship 5, general 10 and 12, + 7 and 10 for domestic? pick whatever ship you want lol

so i was gonna do a different ship, but you have an elidibus avatar, i have an elidibus avatar. let's not be coy. you are all gonna unfollow me if i don't get other interests soon.

let's go!

I - 5: what would their lives be like if they had never met?

this one is very funny to me, given that he's an essential part of the plot on at least three occasions and she functions to stop him in it. i imagine if they hadn't met, there wouldn't be much world left. tho, idk maybe she'd have survived it all and come out the other side of all the rejoinings fully intact. huh. wow. i have to think on that one a bit. ope.

II - 10: What are their parallels, whether in their personalities or their histories?

oh i love this one. idk who would ever sit and draw all the parallels between the wol and elidibus. that certainly could not be me. i would never think about the fact that they both consider their duty to the world the top priority even over the personal self. i absolutely spent zero hours thinking about how they both love the world enough to sacrifice everything to save it. and, if i'm honest, i've never noticed that they're both a little obsessed with one another over the course of their bizarre twists of fate.

i like to think meeting the wol in the past influenced elidibus as he went forward as warrior of light. kit certainly pressed onward to see the world saved in part because she knew what he sacrificed to give her that chance. i also h/c that kit being a warrior inspired him in his paladin form, but you're not here for my silly lore headcanons. i also think his choice to possess ardbert was strategic as part of that obsession.

for kit's part, she never really recovered from what she had to do in sos, which is a nice paper cut that pandae poured lemon juice all over.

II - 12: do they hide anything from each other, big or small?

before setting off to elpis, elidibus warned her that she could not use these little jaunts through time to change the events of the past or influence the future. so obviously when they meet for pandae, she doesn't tell him what she knows. right or wrong, it is a choice she made out of what she saw as a duty to the world. that's okay lol because he totally thought she believed his ruse too, right? those are equal things, for sure! so initially, yes, they were both keeping pretty big secrets. arguably hers is much worse.

i think in a world where they were allowed to be together that honesty would be a big thing. kit dislikes lies, and lying seems counter to the fundamentals of who themis/elidibus is. they will both do so out of necessity, but if we're dealing with a world that isn't tearing them apart and making them mortal enemies, no, i don't think they would hide anything from one another.

IV - 7: who worries the most?

oh, i'm pretty sure this yoke is bore evenly. it's just who they both are, imo. my god, will someone invent therapy?

IV - 10: who is more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

well that is a disgustingly cute question that is gonna take me back to that 'in perfect world where they actually get to be together' place. my initial gut was to say kit, because elidibus is too duty-bound, but uhhhh i established in fic that he considers her the one exception to always putting his duty first. him. it would be him. "just five more minutes to cuddle, pls. no, the convocation won't miss me. it's fine. i can be late. only nabriales will complain. he can go fuck himself."

i'm so cringe. please take me out back and shoot me.

thanks for the ask! i'm almost sorry i'm a one-trick pony right now. almost.

ship ask game questions here.

[caffiene-fueled-fuckery]

Whumptober 2023 - Day 2: MASH (Father Mulcahy H/C)

Hiiii. Yes, I know it's no longer October. But October was midterm season for me and I barely got a minute to myself so I decided to keep writing the prompts anyway. I've done a few out of order already, but this is from prompt/day 2. I decided to write this one with my OC Della in it as well :)

Note: The prompts I used for this day were thermometer and delerium. Before anyone comes after me saying this isn't what it's like to hallucinate, realize that different people experience things differently. I'm not just writing this out my ass, my step-mom has schizophrenia, and I've watched my dad help her through episodes enough times to pick up on some things that help her. But again, things that help her may not help someone else. So yes, I used personal experience and research for this (esp for Della's advice to BJ and for some of what Della says to Father Mulcahy). His reactions were also partially based on experience and research and some of it based on headcanons, etc. People don't act like themselves when they're scared and hallucinating, so as much as pieces of this may seem OOC, just keep that in mind.

TW: mentions of past abuse and sexual assault, hallucinations, illness

Summary: When Father Mulcahy came down with hepititis, Della can't shake the feeling that he's worse off than the doctors make it seem. Only Hawkeye and BJ are aware of how high his fever has spiked, but they weren't prepared for trauma-based hallucinations he's experiencing. It isn't until Hawkeye and BJ can't calm him down that they decide to get Della, hoping that she'll know what to do to help her best friend.

Fic Under the Cut!

She’d nearly scrubbed her hands raw with how long she’d stood there, hot water cascading over agitated flesh. The scrub room was empty—it had been for at least twenty minutes. All the other nurses had left, including Kellye, who had also been assisting BJ with his “by-the-book” surgery. And yet, Della still stood over the sink, staring without seeing into the basin below. 

The whole camp had been tested and immunized against hepatitis and thankfully, there was only one positive case, but that didn’t put her at ease. She’d known something was up with Father Mulcahy as soon as she’d seen him that morning, but hadn’t been able to put her finger on what was the matter. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to lose his appetite if there was something bothering him, and she had attempted to shrug it off, but there was something that still nagged at her. It wasn’t until both Potter and Hawkeye asked him if he was feeling okay that she started to really get worried. Mulcahy wasn’t someone who liked others noticing when something was up—he’d much rather be the one to help them.

Della continued to absentmindedly scrub her hands, lost in thought. When she’d began her shift earlier in the day, he’d been isolated to his tent with only moderate symptoms. Fatigue, joint pain, loss of appetite, jaundice… and the beginnings of a fever. But over the course of her shift she found herself continuously cracking her knuckles and the unease in her stomach grew into a heavy knot. Repeatedly, she’d tried to shake the thought away, which garnered her a few confused looks, but in the end her nerves just wouldn’t settle. Something just didn’t feel right.

“Hey, Della—”

She jumped, flinging water across the floor as she whirled around. “Huh? What?”

“Geez, you okay?”

She blinked at BJ, thoughts reeling to form a straight line. “Yeah. Why?”

“Are you gunna turn the water off?”

“Oh!” She huffed a curt laugh as she twisted off the tap. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Something on your mind?”

“No! No. Just got lost in thought. Memories from home.”

“While washing your hands?”

“…Yes.”

BJ narrowed his eyes back at her. “I’m not going to push you, mainly because I have something important to ask, but next time try not to scorch your hands alright? You kinda need those.”

“Right. What was it you needed to ask me?”

BJ started to cringe, but quickly forced his face to be a blank slate. “Do you have any advice about how to reassure a patient that’s hallucinating?”

“Hallucinating? Sure. I mean, it really depends on the content of the hallucination, though.”

“Right…”

“Do you know what it is? Are they seeing things? Hearing things?”

“A bit of both, I think.”

“Have they said anything?”

“Nothing that I could make any sense of, no.”

“Have they been responding to you?”

“Uh… not exactly.”

She lifted a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s confused. I don’t think he knows where he is or why.”

“Ah, well that complicates things a bit. He’s not really coherent, eh?”

“No, not really.”

“You could try getting down on their level. Sit next to their bed and talk to them, try to reassure them that they’re safe.” She paused, pursing her lips. “The patients I dealt with back home who hallucinated were mainly the psychiatric patients, so the approach was a bit different. But I’m assuming your patient is having hallucinations because of a medication or an infection?”

“Fever.”

“Exactly. Actually, do you want me to try and talk to him? It would probably be easier for me to feel it out first and then tell you.”

“Oh, uh, no. No need.”

Della furrowed her brows. “Are you sure?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Alright… Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

“You’re the closest thing to a psychiatrist we’ve got here, Dell. Don’t sell yourself short.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not a psychiatrist, Beej. I don’t even have any formal schooling towards being one. I just worked in the psych ward because we had no nurses.”

“From what I heard, they put you there because you were good at it.”

She shrugged. “Supply and demand. They had more veterans than they could care for that needed psychiatric aid.”

“Well, either way, you’re a hell of a lot more qualified to deal with this type of situation than any of us.”

“Whatever you say,” she chuckled, watching BJ head for the door. 

“Thanks again. Go get some dinner and some rest, yeah?”

“I will. Don’t worry.”

----

“What are you doing? Wake up!”

Fog clouded his conciousness, but the voice reached him anyway. It roused him from an unsettled sleep. He stirred with a groan, attempting to turn on his side only to be met with a pool of sweat, which dragged another dismayed sound from his throat. Even with his eyes closed his head pounded mercilessly, and attempting to straighten his jumbled thoughts into a line only made matters worse. 

“Wake up, boy!”

He clenched his eyes shut harder. Not today. Please, not today.

“He’s awake again.” It was a voice he recognized but couldn’t quite place. Not his Father. Not one of his brothers. Someone from seminary, maybe? He shuddered at the thought.

“Should we try what she said?” Another familiar voice, but again one that he couldn’t place. Fear floated in his semi-conciousness mind, nearly tangible enough to grab, like the heat that enveloped him or the knot in his stomach. What she said? What who said? His Mother? One of the Sisters? Please, not his Mother. Anything she suggested would be—

A hand landed on his arm. He gasped, rolling back only to hit the wall. A dull ache took over his head, his vision swimming as he looked up at the hand hovering above him. It belonged to a tall, brown-haired man with a thick mustache. Shaking his head, he gulped, and shut his eyes again, willing for his abuser to disappear. 

“Geez, Beej. What did you go and do that for?”

“I didn’t mean to, Hawk. He just… threw himself back against the wall.”

The disapproval in that voice… A quiet whimper left him without permission, along with an internal mantra of ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ 

“You should be.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When has sorry ever been good enough?”

“I’m sorry, please don’t hit me.”

One of the voices was back, tentative and soft. “Why would I hit you?”

His mind reeled. Father wouldn’t want anyone to know of his punishments. But if he was here… Mulcahy shuddered, opening one eye. The voice had belonged to the mustached man. No—belonged to his Father. But the other voice sounded more like him. The one that—

“Why wouldn’t he hit you? You’ve been nothing but a burden on them.”

He curled in on himself further, protecting his vitals. “Anything but the poker. Please.”

There was a moment of silence while he shivered against the wall before the sweat-soaked blanket was pulled from his arms. He tensed, trying to keep his last line of defense in his grip but found that he was too weak to do so. The voice spoke again. “Father? What’s wrong?” 

Father? Why were they speaking to his Father? How mad was he? He couldn’t open his eyes—the fear kept him paralyzed, even his breathing seeming to stop. The pressure in his chest grew while he waited in silence to hear his Father’s answer, but still after a while there was no response. Until once more a hand landed on his shoulder. 

“Father?”

Mulcahy jumped, a startled noise torn from his throat. “Please don’t,” he croaked. “Please. I’ll be good. I promise.”

“You’re weak.”

“I know.” It was almost a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“Who do you keep apologizing to?” The other voice spoke again. 

“Why aren’t you hurting me?”

“Hurting you?” his father asked. “Why would he hurt you? Why would either of us ever hurt you?”

The ache in his head worsened and heat grew behind his eyes. What was this, a trick question? Why did he have to play games with him? Why couldn’t he belt him and just get it over with already? “I don’t understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Why aren’t you hurting me? Why, Father? Can’t you just…” He gasped for air, his body trembling. “Why must you make me think you won’t when I know you will? Please…” His voice trembled too, thick with suppressed tears. “I can’t take it.”

“I’m not your Father.”

“You never considered me your son.”

“No, I mean, I’m really not your Father, Father.”

“Yeah, Father, it’s us. Open your eyes.”

He shook his head with a shiver. “N-no.”

The other man spoke again. “We won’t hurt you.”

“Yes you will.”

“No we won’t.”

“You both do. I-I don’t like it.”

“Father.” Another hand landed on his arm, but the grip felt different than the other one. 

Instinctively, his eyes flew open. Through unshed tears appeared a black-haired man hovering nearly overtop of him. “No! No, please! Don’t touch me!”

The hand retracted. “Father, I—”

“Don’t touch me, please! Please!”

“Father, please. We want to—”

He jerked away from the hand reaching for him. “No! No, please! Please!” We want to. I want to. You want to. You want to. “I don’t want it, please! I never wanted it!”

Both figures retreated. Both voices muttered to each other, which he could barely make out over his own harsh breathing and the chattering of his teeth. He strained to hear them. 

“Should I go get Della?”

Della? He had Della? He’d do something even worse to her than he did to him… “No,” he croaked. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t.”

“We’re not going to hurt, Della, don’t worry.”

“Don’t hurt her, please. Please.”

“I won’t hurt her.”

“You’ll do what you did to me to her, too.” His voice trembled. “Don’t do that. She doesn’t… She doesn’t deserve that!”

“Father, I’m not going to hurt her. I’m going to bring her here.”

“Here?”

“I’m going to bring her to see you.”

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what was happening. Why would that man… that despicable man, bring her to him. All he’d ever done was brought him pain, shame, and agony. Why now would he bring him someone warm and familiar when he’d never been allowed it in the past? And why would his Father allow this?

“You don’t want to see her?”

His voice broke, laced with confliction. Of course he wanted her there. He needed her. But wouldn’t that be dragging her into his mess? Would they really not hurt her? “Della.”

His father cleared his throat. “Go get her.”

Della. Della. Della. He repeated her name over and over. She’d always stood by him and he by her, and he longed for the feel or her arms around him, though he could never admit it when he was of sound mind. She meant safety. Security. A kind of love and care that he never dreamed he’d be worthy of until he met her, and it could be taken away in an instant if that malicious man inflicted pain meant for him onto her. But Della was strong, no doubt more fearless than him and fiercely protective—she could handle them. She had no qualms standing up for others; it was a trait he’d always admired about her. And maybe, while he was indisposed and too weak to fight back, she really would protect him. Her love could shield him from the men that he could never be rid of. A tear slid down his cheek as the conflicting emotions warred in his head—the longing for her presence and fear of her being hurt. Mulcahy covered his face with his arms, calling out without ever realizing he’d spoken. 

“Della.”

----

The tent was quiet, save for the noise of flipping pages. Della laid on her stomach on her bunk, immersed in the novel her father had sent her in the mail. Honey coloured eyes scanned the text, not even noticing as stray curls fell in her face or the same damn fly landed on her hand for the dozenth time.  Crickets chirped beyond the canvas, mingling with muffled voices from far-off conversations and the odd crunching of footsteps from a tent to the latrine. It seemed that most of the camp had settled in for the night, even Kellye who often danced the night away with her in the O-Club was settled in her own bunk with her nose in a book. Nurse Able sat together with Nurse Baker on her bunk, the two of them fingering through a Sears catalogue with only the odd mumble here or there. The four of them could be chatty, but it was nights like these where they could pretend to forget about the war. Forget about how close they were to the front line, about choppers, about the uncertainty of their situation—

“Della!”

She jumped, nearly tumbling over the railing of her bunk. “Huh? Yes?” She steadied herself, focusing on where Kellye held the door open. Her brows shot up, heartbeat skyrocketing. “Hawk? What’s wrong?”

“Please, we need your help.”

“With what?”

“BJ tried what you told him but we just can’t get him to calm down. Actually, I think we made it worse.”

“I can try but like I said to BJ, I’m not a psychiatrist.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

Della furrowed her brows as she hopped down from her bunk. Able steadied her when she swayed while tying her boot. “Then what’s the problem?”

“He needs you. I don’t think there’s anyone else here who would know how to calm him down. He’s one of my closest friends and even I can’t figure it out.”

“Wait wait wait, I thought BJ said this was… oh my God.” She finished tying one boot and started on the other, her fingers fumbling the laces. “You didn’t tell me it was Father Mulcahy who was delirious!”

“The fever made him delirious?” Baker piped up.

“How bad is it?” Kellye asked.

“105 degrees and rising.”

“105??” Della stumbled, catching herself on the ladder to her bunk.

“Damn hepatitis,” Able muttered. “He’ll be okay though, right?”

“Once the fever breaks. But right now he’s sicker than a dog and hallucinating like Frank on anesthetic.”

Kellye frowned. “Poor guy…”

“Poor guy is right!” Della finished tying her boots and straightened. “If you’ve come to get me that means he must be really distressed by whatever he’s seeing, which also means it’s probably something that only I know about. You should’ve told me!”

“We couldn’t tell you, Dell, you would’ve worried.”

“I was already worried!”

Hawkeye ran a hand over his face. “Come on, let’s go.”

Della followed Hawkeye out into the night. Gravel crunched under her boots, some pebbles skidding across the ground as she hurried down the line of tents. “How bad is it, really?”

“Dell, I have never seen him like this. Not even close.”

“Like what?”

“Just… terrified.” When they came upon the tent at the end of the row, Hawkeye stopped in front of it. “I knew you’d be the only one who could help us at this point. You’re his best friend, Dell. And he needs you.” 

He yanked the door open and Della stepped inside, turning to survey the room. BJ stood against the wall of the tent furthest from the bed. “Man, am I happy to see you.” 

She sighed, crossing to her friend’s bed. Father Mulcahy laid curled up on the mattress with his hands over his ears, shivering and slick with sweat, his chest hitching with uneven breaths. “You should’ve come to get me sooner.”

“I’m sorry, Della. I tried what you told me. I really did.”

The rough of BJ’s voice caught her off guard. She looked up, only then noticing the pain etched into his features. “I’m sorry, Beej, I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

“Think I sucked at it?”

“No, no! You did your best! It’s just, when it comes to him, I…” She sighed, unable to put the overwhelming feeling in her chest into words. 

Behind her she heard Hawkeye give him a gentle, “I told you.”

Della sat down on the chair beside Mulcahy’s bed. His eyelids fluttered and his teeth chattered despite the sweat pouring down his face. “BJ, in the shelf behind you are his other sheets. Pass me one, please?” While she waited for them, she turned back to Father Mulcahy and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away from it with a gasp, rolling back into the wall. “Easy, John…” She reached out again, tentatively touching the back of his hand before pulling it away from his ear. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

He cracked open one eye and the sight of her pulled a strangled sound from his throat while his eyes flooded with tears. “Della?”

“Mhmm.”

“You’re really here?”

“I’m really here. See?”

He closed his eyes again as she took his hand briefly, stroking his knuckles with her thumb. “And you’re okay?”

“Of course, I’m okay.”

“Dell.” Her curls bounced as she glanced over her shoulder at BJ, feeling Mulcahy tense up at the sound of his voice. She stroked his knuckles with her thumb again before letting go to take the worn-in linens. Della unfolded the sheet as she watched Mulcahy curl back in on himself, hoping its presence would be comforting and familiar as she draped it over his shivering body.  However, it seemed to have the exact opposite effect, causing the cleric to gasp as soon as the sheet made contact with his skin and attempt to pull away from it. He shook his head, keeping his eyes clenched shut. Della rubbed his shoulder. “It’s alright… You’re cold, aren’t you?”

Father Mulcahy shook his head.

“You’re not cold?”

Another shake.

“Are you sure? You’re shivering. There’s a sheet—”

One more shake.

Della pressed her lips together for a moment, thinking. “There are enough for you to have one if you’re cold.”

Mulcahy shook his head again, but his teeth chattered still as he spoke. “I don’t need it.”

Della lowered her arms, pulling the sheet off of him and letting it drag on the ground. She frowned, thinking over her options again before Hawkeye piped up. “What’s up with that?”

“He thinks he’s back home,” she answered automatically, “sharing a bed with his brothers.”

“But still… why not take the sheet?”

Della bit her lip. She knew exactly why: during his childhood his family didn’t have enough money to heat the house, so he would routinely give up his chance at warmth for his siblings and then risk being punished if he as much as shivered. “I’m not sure.” She knew that even though he was at MASH with them and not back home in Philadelphia with his family, it still seemed real to him. His past and present were meshing together, and it likely wasn’t with his family alone.  “Hawkeye?” “Yeah?” “Can you go back to my tent and grab something from my bunk for me?”

“Now?”

“Yes. My sister sent me this light blanket she made. I don’t know if it smells more like me or the camp, but either way it’s something other than a thin sheet that could remind him of home or seminary school or anything else. Bring it here for me, please, will you?”

Hawkeye furrowed his brows at her mention of seminary school but didn’t question her. “Sure. I’ll be right back.”

Della scooted forward on the chair, reaching out to Mulcahy again. She rested a gentle hand on his arm where it covered his ears again, letting her thumb stroke his feverish skin in an attempt at comfort. “Beej?”

“Mm?”

“How was he before I came in? I noticed you were standing against the wall.”

“Frantic. Wouldn’t let me anywhere near him.”

“Did he say anything to you?”

Pain flickered in the man’s eyes. “Yeah. He kept asking me not to hurt him. I would never.”

“Did he address you by name?”

“No. Not once.”

“He didn’t understand who he was seeing, Beej. He thought you were someone else.”

“But who? Who would hurt someone like him?”

Della sighed, shaking her head. “Did he react the same way to Hawkeye?”

“Yeah.” BJ swallowed hard. “It didn’t seem to matter what we said or did, it only seemed to freak him out.”

“Dammit.” Della shut her eyes. She let out a long, shaky breath. 

“What is it? What’s—”

“Just… Stay back for a few minutes, okay? And try not to take it personally. I’m sure in his right mind he knows that you and Hawk would never hurt him, but in this state, he thinks everyone and anyone could, especially when you look like two very specific people from his past to his scrambled brain.”

“I—”

“Just let me handle this.” She lowered her voice, her thumb finally stilling as she heard Hawkeye approaching outside. “Please.”

BJ nodded, then looked to Hawkeye over her shoulder. He held up a grey blanket that seemed to have been crocheted out of a thin wool, adorned with a pattern of pale blue flowers. Not only was it something familiar to now but it was thin enough to not cause him to overheat. “This it?”

“Yes.” She reached out for it. “Thank you.”

BJ tugged on Hawkeye’s arm, pulling him to the other side of the tent with him. They spoke in hushed voices, no doubt discussing how to break the man’s fever once he’d calmed down. 

Della slid onto the edge of Mulcahy’s mattress and draped the blanket over him. At first touch he flinched, but she quickly spoke up. “It’s still me. It’s Della.” She tucked it around him, rubbing his arm. “Is that better?”

He nodded, but kept his eyes clenched shut. “Dell…?”

“Mhmm?”

“Are the bad men gone?”

Those words knocked the air from her lungs. The innocence in that question—in that voice. And the fear… “What bad men were you seeing, John?” He shook his head and she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I can’t tell you until you tell me, hun.”

BJ and Hawkeye exchanged glances. It wasn’t unusual for her to use terms of endearment, but it wasn’t often, if ever, that they heard anyone use them on the Chaplain. Most people didn’t even call him by his first name. But then again, if anyone would, it would be Della. 

“My father,” he mumbled.

“No, I haven’t seen your father. Who else did you see?”

“He… He…”

Della rested a hand on his hair, brushing sweat-soaked bangs from his forehead. “Easy… Take a breath for me, alright?”

His attempt was futile. “He used to come into the dorms… there were so many boys, but he always chose me…” 

She closed her eyes momentarily, taking a long, silent breath. “John, was it Rector O’Malley that you were seeing?”

A tremor ran through him at the mention of the man’s name. He hugged the blanket closer to his chest. “I don’t want him to touch me.”

“We’re in Korea, hun. He can’t hurt you here.” Della looked over to BJ and Hawkeye, both of whom stared back at her, slack-jawed and horrified. “I don’t see him. Do you still see him?”

“I don’t want to.”

Della frowned as Mulcahy clenched his eyes shut tighter. She brushed his hair from his forehead again. “I know you don’t.”

“Please don’t let him touch me, Dell. Please.” His voice crescendoed in volume and desperation. “Please. Please, don’t let him—”

“Hey…”

Mulcahy wrenched away from her, crying out as he did so, only to once again roll into the wall. Hawkeye and BJ jumped up, but Della held up a hand. Their presence would not help the situation, that she was sure of. Her hands hovered over his trembling form as he continued to plead with her. “Are you hearing him?”

“Please don’t let him touch me. Please don’t touch me, please don’t—” A sob ripped from the Priest’s throat as he tensed, tormented by something no one else could see. “Let go! Please, let go! Please!”

“John—”

“Please don’t hurt me!” His body jerked this way and that in an attempt to escape the grasp of invisible hands, ramming his shoulder into the nightstand and nearly punching the support of the tent. “Don’t touch me, please! Please!” Mulcahy threw his head to the side, eyes still clenched shut and brows pinched. He curled in on himself, protecting his vitals. “Leave me alone… Please…”

Della winced at the pain in her chest. She slid a bit closer to him, letting one hand very gently rub his side. “Are you hearing the Rector or your Father?”

“I don’t know,” he sobbed. “It’s dark. I just don’t want him to touch me again. It hurts.”

“Hurts? Are you in pain?”

He nodded, stopping only briefly before crying out again. “No. No! Please!”

“Hey—”

“Please, not that! It hurts!”

“John—”

“Please, don’t,” he begged, choking on a sob. “It hurts. Don’t touch me there.”

“Hey… It’s only me touching you.”

“It’s not.” Mulcahy shook his head, drawing his elbows in closer and burying his face. “Please help me.”

“He’s not here, John, he can’t hurt you,” Della said, still rubbing his side to remind him that she’s there. “The only hands on you are mine, hun.”

“N-no! No!” 

Mulcahy’s sobs only grew louder and more pained. Desperate. Della stared at him trembling beneath her touch, scared and delirious. What should she do? Hell, what could she do? The only options that came to mind weren’t conventional for a patient and certainly not for a priest. But in that moment, Mulcahy wasn’t either of those things to her. He was her best friend, one of the people she loved most in the world, and he was terrified. She set her jaw, intent to make him feel safe regardless of what Hawkeye and BJ thought, or anyone else for that matter. 

“Hey, hey, hey, shh…” Shifting further onto his bed, Della pulled Mulcahy into her arms in an attempt to both comfort him and stop him from flailing. 

He fought to break free from her grip. “No! Don’t hurt me! Don’t touch me!”

“It’s only me, John. I’m not going to hurt you…” 

“N-no! Please help me, Dell. Don’t let him do that to me again, please. Please.”

“Shh, he can’t touch you here, okay?”

“It hurts!” Mulcahy’s whole body tensed as he tried to curl in on himself further, shaking violently. “It—Hurts—”

Della closed her eyes, her lips pursed as if she felt the pain inflicted on him by his feverish state. She thought over what could possibly be of comfort to him but came up short. In this instance, anything related to the bible could bring him back to seminary school, and regardless, she didn’t know anything off by heart. Then there was Hawkeye and to a slightly lesser extent BJ, but both of them had only furthered the man’s panic. The only other thing she could think of that could bring him any sort of comfort in a state like this would be Kathy, the only other person he’d ever mentioned showing him any sort of love or affection. But Kathy was halfway across the world… 

Della adjusted her arms around him, pulling Mulcahy closer to her chest. She rested on hand on the back of his head, the other wrapped around his waist, idly rubbing his back in the vicinity of her hand. “Shh… it’s only me. I won’t hurt you.”

“I—Don’t—Want it—”

“I know you don’t.”

“I didn’t then either, but he… he…”

“I know, hun. I know you didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

“It must be,” Mulcahy sobbed into her neck. “Or else he—NO, NO!”

Della tightened her arms around him. “No, no, it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“He’s—hurting—me—” He tensed up again. “Why won’t you—stop him—”

“I can’t.”

“Please, Dell!”

“John, I can’t, honey, I’m sorry. I can’t see him.”

“Dell, please. Please.”

The sound of his sobs made her chest ache and she found herself wishing she could fight off this imaginary figment of a very real man. “I know you feel him and hear him, hun. I know he feels so real and you’re scared and confused… I know. But I’m the only one touching you, honey, I promise. You’re safe.”

His body jolted again. “No, he’s—he’s—”

“He’s not here, John. You’re safe.”

“But I feel him…”

“He’s not real. He’s not real…” 

“But I s-saw him! I can still hear him. I can still feel him… touching me.”

“The person you saw was Hawkeye, not O’Malley.”

“Hawkeye…?”

Della smoothed his hair. “Hawkeye Pierce. Tall, black hair, blue eyes, a bit of a smart-ass but a fantastic doctor. You met him here in Korea before you met me. Ring a bell?”

“Korea… Yes. Hawkeye.” 

“Yes. He would never do what O’Malley did. It was only him you were seeing.”

“But he was with my Father…”

“He was with BJ. Not your Father.”

“BJ…” Mulcahy shuddered. 

“BJ Hunnicutt? Light brown hair, blue eyes, ridiculous mustache… Always talking about Peggy and Erin.”

“Erin…” He sniffed. “His baby girl?”

“His baby girl,” Della hummed. “Good. See? You’re safe. Neither Hawkeye or BJ would hurt you.”

“But I could hear O’Malley and my Father. I could feel them—” 

Della tightened her arms around him when he tensed, a sob being dragged from his throat as an unpleasant sensation ran through him. “Shh… It’s not them. BJ and Hawkeye are standing across the tent right now. They’re in my field of view. I promise, neither of them are touching you.”

Mulcahy flinched again, curling further into Della’s embrace. “Then how are they here…? How come I can feel them?”

“They’re not here. There’s no way they could be here in Korea. You’re safe.” It felt bizarre to say those words together. Safe in Korea… Though she knew it was true. Mulcahy was safer here than he was back home, either with his family or the other authorities in the church. 

Mulcahy curled further into her, uncharacteristically clingy. His voice remained tight and thick with tears. “Then why… Why do I feel this way?”

She cringed. She hadn’t wanted to try and differentiate the men and cause more confusion for him, but his distress called forced her hand—she couldn’t calm him down unless he believed that he truly was safe. “You’re hallucinating, sweetie. You have a high fever.”

“Hallucinating? Why? How can I make it stop?”

“We have to wait for your fever to go down, hun. That’s about all we can do.”

“You can’t make them stop?” A violent shiver ran through his body, accompanied by an involuntary whine from a pain she didn’t dare imagine. “There’s nothing you can do?”

“I’m sorry, John. I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“Okay.” He choked out a sob, shivering again. He pulled his legs close to his chest. “They’re—”

“Shh…” Della ran a hand over the back of his head. “It’s only me, sweetie, I’m holding you. It’s only me.”

The only response she received was a whimper, followed by another sob. Mulcahy buried his face further in her neck and the combined heat of his skin and tears made her heart ache. She ran her fingers through his hair, not caring what the doctors across the tent thought. “I’ve got you, John. You’re safe… I promise.”

Della leaned her cheek on the top of Mulcahy’s head, still holding him while he cried. Her own eyes welled with tears as she chanced a glance at Hawkeye and BJ. Both men stood across the tent form her, barely computing what was going on with their friend. Hawkeye shook his head and looked away from her, at a loss. BJ pressed his lips into a firm line. It was hard to see one of their closest friends in so much pain, but what was worse was knowing he’d been in pain this whole time, yet had never said a word of it to them. It only solidified the bond between Mulcahy and Della in their minds. Neither of them knew what was going on, but Della not only understood what was happening with very little context, but was also able to calm the man when he started to spiral into hysterics. 

Hawkeye glanced over at BJ. “It’s a good thing I went and got her,” he whispered. “We would have never calmed him down.”

BJ stared intently at the sobbing priest still wrapped up in Della’s arms. “He thought… I was his Father. Coming to hurt him.”

“And me? What about me? Why did my presence scare him so much?”

“The Rector. In his mind… You were the seminary school rector that raped him. Repeatedly by the sounds of it.”

“That’s…” Hawkeye followed BJ’s gaze. Someone who only ever wanted to give to others had only ever had things taken from him. All Mulcahy wanted to do was help, but he’d only ever been hurt. Perhaps that was why he was so reckless with his life—he had nothing to lose. Nothing to go back to. Sure, he had Kathy… but that was it for him, wasn’t it? And the shame that came from that kind of abuse, not only from a religious figure, but from a parent, and either way someone he should have been able to trust… “I feel sick.”

“This isn’t the way I’d have liked to find out.”

“I’m sure it’s not how he’d like you to find out either. In fact, I’m sure he would’ve wanted you to never find out.”

“That’s true.” BJ paused, watching Della adjust so that she was laying down a bit more to help Mulcahy be more comfortable. “There’s one thing I can���t figure out, though. If we both resembled an abuser… Who was Della?”

“What do you mean?”

“If I was his father and you were the rector, then who was she in his mind?”

“There’s no way to know, really. Kathy, maybe? Although I doubt it. He did call her by name. I think she was just herself.”

“Somehow she broke through that haze?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Hawkeye pondered. “Things get all mixed up when you hallucinate. Sometimes you still know you’re in the same environment and aspects are altered or added. Sometimes you don’t know. Sometimes it seems to be a mix. So… he thought we were his abusers, but Della was just Della.”

“That… doesn’t make sense.”

“Hallucinations rarely do,” he joked, though there was no humour in it. “He clearly feels safe with Della, so her presence was able to somewhat ground him in reality, even if the rest was still hazy and overwhelming. That’s how she was able to calm him down.”

“I thought you didn’t know anything about patients hallucinating and such.”

“I don’t! Only the general stuff we’re taught in medical school, but that stuff’s gotta be outdated now. I was able to piece it together based off of what Della told you and from watching her just now. Besides, haven’t you ever had a fever-induced hallucination before? You told me once about a time you got real sick as a kid.”

“Yeah, but my hallucinations weren’t…”

“Trauma?”

“Yeah. I just thought I saw a shark in our living room. That’s nowhere near the magnitude of what he’s experiencing.”

“Well, when you have trauma in your past they seem to go hand in hand. You were only a little kid when that happened, right?”

“Mhmm.”

“I was an adult.” Hawkeye sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “When I got a bad fever once I kept thinking I was drowning. Kept seeing this… this hand, reaching down to me. And right as I went to grab it, it disappeared. It was… terrifying.”

“I once hallucinated my mom,” said Della, her voice soft but still loud enough to hear. “She stood there telling me I was horrible at my job and that the suicide one of our patients was my fault.”

BJ spoke for himself and Hawkeye, who seemed too caught up in his thoughts to articulate. “That’s awful. I’m really sorry that happened.”

“It can be the people you least expect.” Della’s voice trailed off as she rubbed Mulcahy’s back. He still laid in her embrace, curled up and leaning against her chest, his breathing evening out as he drifted back to sleep. She looked back up at BJ, who seemed both shocked and not shocked at all at the way she held him. The way he let her hold him. “My point is… My mother would have never said that to me. She died when I was a teenager and she was a sweetheart. It was my manager at the hospital who derogated me. And yet, the two traumas ended up mixing together.”

“I guess it’s not a one-size-fits-all, huh?”

“Nope. You can’t loop all instances of hallucinating together, it just won’t work.”

“Well,” Hawkeye croaked, coming back to himself. “Regardless of how you knew what to do, I’m just glad you did. That’s why I went to get you, both because I knew you’d be our best shot. Plus, you’re the only one other than maybe Kathy who could ever hold him like this.”

Della’s cheeks burned. “I-I knew physical comfort helps him but what I was doing already wasn’t working, so…”

“Hey, I’m not knockin’ it if it works!”

BJ chuckled. “It’s sorta endearing, eh, Hawk?”

“You guys,” Della grumbled, fighting back even more heat rising up her neck. “He’s not in his right state of mind. Under normal circumstances, he would never…”

“We know, Dell.”

“We’re just teasing you,” said Hawkeye with an impish grin. 

“Well knock it off.” She couldn’t help but smile, but it quickly fell from her face when Mulcahy started mumbling under his breath. She listened closer, tilting her head slightly, but couldn’t make out anything. Intending to calm whatever unpleasant thoughts seemed to be in his head, she started to rub his back again. When she looked back up, Hawkeye was shaking his head at the ground, a deep frown on his face. “Hawk?”

“I just… I know I don’t have the full story and probably never will, but form just the brief glimpse we got… I can’t believe he had to go through that.”

“You’d never know it,” BJ added. 

“I wouldn’t say that.” Della pondered for a moment before continuing. “The signs are there if you’re more in-tune with them. But I know what you mean.”

“I don’t ever want to see that agonized look on his face again. Especially not directed at me.” Hawkeye let out a long breath, still staring at the floor before bringing his gaze back up to his sick friend. He took in the sight of Mulcahy, having finally seemed to settle against Della. “I never thought I’d hear that kind of tormented sobbing come from him. Ever.”

“Like you said, hallucinating is complicated. People don’t act like they normally would, and to anyone witnessing someone else hallucinating, it doesn’t seem to make sense. But it doesn’t have to make sense to scare someone, especially if the hallucination stems from or is directly related to past trauma. And that’s the thing about it, right? The reactions may not match with how that person actually reacted to the real life event. Like when I hallucinated my mom blaming me for that patient’s death… I was inconsolable. But when it actually happened, I barely said a word.”

“Well, I’m not sure how Father Mulcahy would have reacted to what happened to him but… I’m sure if it’s what I think it was, he would’ve been punished for crying out or begging for help.”

Della nodded, thinking back to the memories Mulcahy had shared with her. “Exactly. But right now he’s confused and scared, disoriented, he’s not feeling well, and he’s vulnerable. Being suddenly thrust back into a time of persistent trauma that he thought he’d finally escaped… that would fuck with anyone.”

Hawkeye nodded, but it was BJ who spoke up. “Well, we’re glad you’re here for him.”

Della gave a breathy laugh through her nose, not looking at him but at Mulcahy as she nodded. “Me too. It was nagging at me all day… I knew something was up.”

“You have good instincts,” Hawkeye said, offering a small smile. “Thank you, Della. He’s lucky to have you.”

Della smoothed Mulcahy’s hair as he slept. “I’m lucky to have him, too.”

[prompt-master]

henlo i am sorry to bother you but i am ten years late to the danganronpa fandom and two years late to your fanfics but i was wondering if you might consider finishing your Bear Trap story? like even if its just a quick lil synopsis of what you wanted to write, or if its an unfinished chapter, id take anything 👉👈

also ur lovely ok bye

Ok this was worded very kindly so I'm going to justify it with a full geniune response.

I'm honestly probably never going to update Bear Trap, but I WILL give you a synopsis. I did however want to first quickly explain why I don't plan on finishing that fic.

To keep a long story short. I kinda hate BT. It was my first fic after a two year break and imo it shows in the quality. I thank BT for temporarily getting me back into the writing groove, but I cringe way too hard looking back on it. I do have an unfinished chapter draft, but I'm not sure if I'd ever post it. I'll have to reread it at some point and see how I feel.

I would also like to say that if anyone else is willing to write the last part, I am more than willing to work with them.

Now, here is what I had planned for BT, bare (haha bear) in mind that it's messy because it was just self indulgent nonsense:

The format of BT was meant to go; build up, impact, aftermath. With each chapter focusing on a different story beat.

There was going to be a fake chapter released only on tumblr where Naegi died, only for the characters to go "did you actually think that would happen?" meant to poke fun over how many people thought I was going to kill Naegi.

This means the last chapter was going to entirely focus on the aftermath of Naegi's injury. I wanted each character to get an analysis of how they're feeling and each individual relationship would get a spotlight

This also means that. Tbh. The aftermath segment probably would not fit cleanly into one chapter since it would be pretty big.

It began with the hospital ride from the helicopter, Togami and Kiri watching as medics struggle to keep Naegi stable. There's a very dissociative vibe going on.

Because Togami and Kiri are closer to Naegi then they are each other, they don't really know how to comfort each other. It's awkward, quiet. They only speak to share facts and speculation. But there's a moment where they lean shoulder to shoulder.

Naegi was going to lose his leg, and have to get a prosthetic. Some of the fic was going to focus on him relearning how to walk with his new leg with the help of his partners.

I wanted to make sure that Naegi becoming disabled wasn't a "bad" ending. It's obviously upsetting to lose a limb in a tragic accident, and Naegi does have to cope with it. But I wanted to feel more empowering in a "see this shit? It's proof I survived"

Togami was ofc going to lovingly call him a cockroach

There was going to be exploration over how despite being known around the world for surviving a tragedy, they still don't really know how to LIVE with tragedy. They are just forced to keep moving on without getting a moment to breathe.

Due to Naegi seeing how freaked out Togami and Kiri were, he tries to keep everything together and stay lighthearted for their sake. He knows they want to see he's okay. This meant he pushed aside his own coping however.

The fic was going to end with Naegi finally letting out his emotions and crying in front of both of them, admitting that he was scared and thought he was going to die, and that he was so grateful they were there. Even if he had died then, he wouldve been more okay with it if they were with him. But that doesn't mean he was actually okay with it.

Togami negotiates them all a 2 week vacation lmao

If I remember correctly (I did not reread the fic to check, I'm going solely off memory) I was going to make a point about how despite feeling like they nearly lost their chance to tell Naegi they love him, both Tog and Kiri know that a confession shortly after a traumatic experience isn't the best idea. But also, Naegi doesn't need a confession to know they love him.

There were certainty more details to thefic that I can't fully recall ATM, such as the specifics of each individual character/relationship analysis. Let me know if you have any questions! Ty again for your kindness

[tweecrushconfessions]

oh-crap-im-almost-an-adult!!

Okay, so let's get one thing straight. I've been using the 'just-a-teenage-girl' card as my get-out-of-jail-free ticket for the better part of my teen years. Late for class? Just a teenage girl who needs her beauty sleep. Room looking like the aftermath of a tornado? Just a teenage girl with an 'artistic temperament'.

However, as the hands of time relentlessly drag me towards the dreaded threshold of adulthood, I find myself quaking in my Doc Martens. Oh the sheer horrors.

First things first, denial seems like a great coping mechanism. I mean, they say age is just a number, right? But my parents have reliably informed me that age, in fact, comes with responsibilities and is not solely for the purpose of upgrading my driving license or getting into rated movies.

Well, I guess I'll have to strategize. Adapt. Overcome. Start talking like a Bear Grylls survivalist, apparently. But seriously, let's explore some options, shall we?

Plan A; Marry a rich man and.. what?

I've been binge-watching way too much crime videos lately, and I may or may not have thought about marrying a super-rich guy and then conveniently 'getting rid of him'. Yes, you read that right. I mean, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to survive in this capitalist society, right? All in the name of self-preservation... and a life of luxury, of course.

Now, hold on! Before you report me to the authorities, let me clarify that this is all hypothetical. This is my desperate mind’s attempt at avoiding adult responsibilities. Trust me, I can barely keep a plant alive (I killed off like two cactuses) , let alone execute a perfect crime. I mean, have you watched Forensic Files? They always get caught. Always.

Besides, just imagine the mess. Me, clumsily trying to navigate a life of high society, rubbing elbows with the CEOs whilst hiding my love for cheap fast food and discount clothing stores, and hiding the fact that I cringe at Elon Musk. Picture me trying to put up with stuffy events when I’d rather be at home, in my pyjamas, watching pirated movies and eating microwaved popcorn. And let's not even talk about the problem of the actual 'getting rid of him' part. Yikes! My apologies to any potential future husbands out there. Rest assured, your lives are safe with me. (Not sure if I'll have one, but just in case..')

Plan B; Run Away and Join the Circus

I'm pretty good at juggling... my school work, sleep schedule, and social life, that is. However, I'm not sure how that translates into juggling balls, flaming torches, or worse, responsibilities!

Plan C: Establishing My Own Country

Now this one's for when the going gets really tough. If all else fails, I might just declare my room a sovereign nation. I mean, it has its own flag (the mess on my floor that vaguely resembles my laundry), a national anthem (my Spotify playlist), and a unique culture (the art of procrastinating and marathoning TV shows).

We'll have our own national holidays, like 'No Homework Day' or 'Ice Cream for Breakfast Day'. And the best part? The rules of the outside world don't apply here. Late for a meeting? You're just abiding by the national custom of 'fashionably late'. Forgot to do your chores? That's alright; in our nation, we believe in natural order, even if it means letting dirty dishes pile up.

Who knows? Maybe I'll find that the adulting life isn't as terrifying as it seems. And until then, don't worry, no rich husbands will be harmed in the survival process. Well, at least not intentionally…But in all seriousness, does anyone know where I can get a 'How to Adult' handbook? Asking for a friend… obviously.

[lightvsdark18]

Some responses to voicelines (Idia)

Why can't classes have login bonuses, too? That'd almost make me wanna show up.

I could agree with that.

Hey. ...So, uh, can I go now?

Fine...

Some weirdos out there love doing challenge runs using characters with gimmicky stats.

So?

S-seriously, why pay so much attention to me? What's the fun in that? Knock it off with the grin, geez... Weirdo...

*Pats him on the head*

Now I'm getting pumped. The whole universe awaits me! ...Yeah, okay, that was kinda cringe.

Even if it was, does it really matter? The universe awaits us, Idia.

School Uniform

If you can put on that uniform and greet even a loner like me with a smile... Man, respect.

Idia, come on...

I don't need to go to the classroom. I can just take the class on my tablet. Leave me alone.

:(

Uh, hey... Sorry, I'm not too social. Could you just, uh, ignore me? Think of me as dirt, if it helps.

Idia, don't say that.

I'm really not into talking face to face, but maybe over a BG... Huh? You don't know what that is? It stands for board game...

Then let's play a board game. I'm curious what this world has.

P.E. Uniform

I'm so bummed out right now. What good is exercise, anyway?

It improves your stamina and health.

You've got energy to burn, right? H-how about going to class in my place? D-d-don't worry, nobody will notice!

Ah, yes. People wouldn't notice the blue fire haired guy not sitting in the classroom.

I can't deal with this. I'm so out of shape. I need a break; I've got some moussaka stuck in my throat.

("Why doesn't that sound familiar?")

Mr. Azul and I are close competitors in flight class... in a race to the bottom.

Oh.

Labwear

Shh! I'm trying to focus. Could you please not talk to me?

Rude.

Y-y-you're asking me?! You're kidding, right?

What's wrong with asking you?

Really? You're having trouble with the basic textbook questions? That's, like, baby mode stuff.

Says the guy who can build anything in a day.

If you want help with questions, get Mr. Grim to let me pet him. Then we'll talk.

You have to ask Grim to let you pet him, not me.

Crewel gets on my case to "stop hunching over like a cat" every time I see him. I can't deal with dog people... Dogs themselves are okay, though.

The problem isn't he's a dog person, the problem is he's weird.

Oh sure, NOW everybody wants my help... That's why 3D is dumpster-tier.

Wait, what happened?

You seem antsy. Not a fan of experiments, are you? Mwee hee hee.

Hush.

Ceremonial Robes

What's the point of holding ceremonies offline when we've got the internet at our fingertips?

To in sure everyone is attending. You fake your presence online.

Feels like everybody's mean-mugging me. Th-they're all trashing me behind my back, aren't they? They gotta be!

And if they aren't?

Why can't they just livestream these ceremonies? Gathering in person is a waste of time and energy.

A lot of people back home would argue with that.

This college sure attracts a lot of extroverts for a place with such a dark and gloomy name. You're the only one I can count on - a friend to introverts.

:)

Wanna say hewwo to Wucius today. That gwumpy-wumpy kitty with his widdle kitty paw-paws... Erk! YOU HEARD NOTHING.

Idia, what the fuck?

I hear your dorm's barely got anyone in it. That's the life, right there. Wish Ortho and I could have OUR dorm all to ourselves...

You two can come visit if you want.

Dorm Uniform

You're pretty unlucky yourself. Maybe Lady Luck's spitting on you like she does to me.

Idia, don't say that.

Talking to people tires me out. If you don't need anything, I'm gonna go now.

Fine...

Getting housewarden is like winning the reverse lottery.

Eh, at least the students respect you. The job would be harder if they didn't.

I-is it really that rare to see me in my dorm uniform? I... I don't look like a total doof or anything, right? ...Right?

You look nice.

Fun fact: You see all these triangles on my uniform? That pattern's based on the outfit worn by the King of the Underworld.

Really?

You wanna know if my hair's hot? It can get that way when I'm mad, but not usually… ...Wanna touch it? Scratch that. Forget I asked.

Aw...

Starsending

Trey's all chill and mature, right? But here's the thing: you can never tell what guys like that are REALLY thinking.

From what I heard from Ace and Deuce, I'm guessing probably teeth.

Suitor Suit

What? Why are you making that face? Do I look FUNNY to you? I'm not-

Hold on! I was just thinking you look really nice. Handsome even.

Do whatever you want with me. Just get it over with!

*Kisses him on the cheek*

If you want to talk romance, I'm your guy. I'm familiar with all the popular fan ships in video games and manga. You might even call me an expert.

(smug) What about offline romance?

I could never live with someone else. You have NO idea how miserable I was sharing a dorm room. That was before I became housewarden.

Living with a stranger vs a person you love and trust is different.

What? Do you... Do you wanna wear this outfit? By all means, take it! Take it right now!

But would it fit me though?

Halloween

E-even I look forward to events sometimes! You got a problem with that?!

No, it's just I never seen you so hyper before.

What kind of costume are you gonna wear? Don't tell me you're just gonna put on a headband or hat and call it good.

Hey! I'm limited on funds. I would love to really dress up, but I can't.

Lions are supposedly part of the Felidae family, but Leona's about as docile as an angry lawnmower. Oooh, I wanna widdle kitty cat to hug and kiss…

Same... Docile as an angry lawnmower. Heh.

Let me be clear: there is no nerd alive who hates Halloween!

I doubt that.

Hee hee... My costume's really durable because I made it with a 3D printer.

3D printer? Darn.

[sleepyone2three]

That whole last ending sequence in the final episode episode of Arlong Park really hits hard though 😭 This whole arc has absolutely wrecked me though. My standards are too high and I fear nothing will live up to it. Final Thoughts 👇and they're in no particular order/all over the place since I wrote them as I thought of them.

Fuck Arlong

The hat scene wrecked me

Again, the whole ending sequence from the note placement to that last pinwheel spin is so good I can't even put it into words

All of the meaning behind Nami's new tattoo down to the aesthetic. Such a simple yet elegant design too.

"I'LL always be YOUR friend, Nami!"

Luffy just took down the man the literally owned and made Nami miserable for the past eight years and is using the most non possessive verbage possible he's letting her know it's always her choice at the end of the day I can't with this boy 😭

We'Re NoT goNna hUrt HeR

With grease and meat all over his face and his mouth still stuffed

It was at that moment Genzo realized he had nothing to worry about

Nojiko getting the tattoo for Nami though! She's such an amazing big sister

Oh my goodness yes doctor man please tell Zoro off for not taking better care of himself because I will if you don't

Usopp's fight was honestly pretty funny and I enjoyed it

Oh my God I just remembered the sea monster cow and I felt for so bad for it, Sanji and Luffy were so mean

On that note, wtf is up with Luffy and hurting cute animals? First Shushu and now this? Someone call peta on this boy

I wasn't a huge fan of how obnoxious johnny and yosaku were but I loved that they were basically a stand in for the audience/riff on oc fan characters and self insert fics (which I totally don't write all the time whaaaaat why would you ask) and so self aware that I can't even be mad most of the time.

Nami stealing everyone's wallets is such a rad way to prove she's self sufficient and going to be okay out on her own

Also not letting anyone say thank you is such a mood

She does what she wants

Luffy you're the captain, you sweet stupid enabler

The pacing of the hat scene in so good of my gooooosh

Weirdly this arc has had some of the best edited recap intros so far

I honestly kinda wish we got to see Nami throw down in the final battle. She goes up ready to fight and then just doesn't, I'd have liked to see her at least beat up one fishman. But I also love how much the others go all out for her

I really liked the moment in Usopp's fight when he was going through all his lies and his tone gets more and more unsure and how it builds up to him declaring he'll never pretend to be a pirate again because he's going to be a pirate

Sanji trying summon good vibes? That's so dumb and cringe but I love it

Speaking of Sanji, I love that he thought to blow into the gills I was not expecting that kind of solution

Also, I love Sanji's character... as long as he isn't around women. Let him be a bitch to everyone, not just the guys.

And the the wounds opening up as the as Hachi is swimming? That was a great payoff

God the Mirabelle scenes hurt

Genzo's an amazing character and I really like him

Hajiko too, she's awesome

The little kid feels super tacked on tbh. He disappears for half the story and then comes back for a hamfisted monologue. Is this different in the manga? I sure hope so

I kinda love the Hawaiian shirt and bandages look on zoro, heavy trans masc vibes which I love

Yikes on the scene where Arlong rips off Zoro's bandages though dysphoria kinda triggered uhhg

I bought Sanji's cook book and there was no special orange sauce sauce recipe why did he not ask for crew contributions?

I'm honestly shocked the town had enough food for Luffy to gorge himself like that for three days, they're gonna need the money Nami left to recoup their losses

The ship flying and Luffy just having a blast the entire time had me wheezing

Stretching Luffy's head above water was such a brilliant and creative solution. Makes me wonder if the same could work for Buggy if he chop chopped his head off before sinking.

All in all, these dorks are so good for each other

[wh6res]

spectator | jeno

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet." — ljn

TW mafia au, blood, violence, mentions of prostitution and brothels, mentions of past torture, extreme power imbalance, dumbification, they used a tranquilizer

A/N first half is told in renjun's pov also this is for dino anon hehe thank u for the inspo babes!!

DISC i don't condone anything. this isn't love.

WC 1.4k

renjun was fairly new to the mafia but it didn't take him long to realize the outrageous things they considered are the norms here. one of the first things he noticed is a cute little bunny dressed in scraps that always seemed to tail jeno wherever he went. jeno was his superior, albeit they were the same age, so it sucked that renjun had to use honorifics.

oftentimes he ignores you when jeno stands before him giving orders, or when they pass by each other in the hallways and stop to exchange pleasantries.

as renjun quickly climbed the ranks thanks to his agility and cunning mind, you, unfortunately, remained in the same position—always sitting by jeno's feet like a puppy, a body, a plaything, a whore. there were rumors that the boss gave his executives a chance to pick from the litters before they're shipped off to brothels, kind of like peace offerings in exchange for their compliance.

people said the stoic, muscular young man never really indulged himself in such temporary matters. until probably two years ago, until jeno first laid his eyes on you and decided then and there you were too pretty to become a random whore in the chain of brothels the mafia owned. the petite boy believes maybe it's a disguised blessing on your part, at least you'd only have to deal with one man every night, right?

renjun can only look at you from afar, keeping in mind not to stare too openly nor too intrusively that your owner notices. he's seen the bruises. the purple and black patches of your skin and renjun never gets used to it. his stomach turning at the idea of jeno deliberately marking your skin where the oversized shirt you wear won't be able to cover. the chinese immigrant would be stupid not to notice what that meant—it's jeno's clear sign of dominance, of the severe power imbalance, and not a single man in this building can stop him from doing whatever he wants to you.

renjun managed to piece things together thanks to his naturally observant nature. jeno never punished you for what you did, he punished you because he knows he can't touch his subordinates for something measly such as bumping or staring at his whore. the young mafia executive decides to take it out on you instead, albeit the flawed logic and unfairness of it all—proof that every person in this criminal organization is fucked up in the head.

despite jeno's maltreatment, renjun never heard a single complaint from you nor can he detect a feeling of rebellion out of you. you were so eerily compliant that the chinese can't help but think of what other horrible means jeno did for you to become so broken. renjun tried thinking about it, once, but never again. he can be cruel if he wants to be, but not without purpose. not because he gets a kick out of seeing a face twisted in terror. he wasn't like jeno, who smiled and laghed after blowing someone's brain up in the mafia's torture rooms.

this is why jeno is the only man fit for the job, the reason he became an executive at such a young age—there's no man he can't break for information. renjun doesn't know what jeno does to the poor people in the torture rooms but the piercing screams are enough to decide never to go against his superior.

renjun never thought he'll live the day to hear your screams coming from one of those rooms.

"what?" he does a double-take, eyes wide and unbelieving. "what do you mean she's in there? that's her, right now?"

haechan shrugs, wincing when he hears another scream coming from inside the room. he'll never know why these rooms aren't soundproof, maybe it was a way for jeno to keep his subordinates in line—"hear that? just be grateful that's not you."—you wouldn't want to cross a man who has no moral compass. "yeah. i heard she tried to escape."

renjun doesn't like the cool, amused smirk on haechan's face as he leaned back against the door, looking like everything is okay when it's not. "heard she got like… what, ten feet? give or take—yeah, i think ten feet out the door before jaemin's men tranqed her so much she would have slept for a week."

it was easy for renjun to detach himself, disregard his own set of beliefs and sweep them all under the pretense of "it's just work, nothing personal" but with you, it felt different. he knows you. well, knows of you. it's different, personal even, when he can match a face to those gruesome, ear-shattering screams that wracked through his bones.

he wanted to help you.

renjun wanted to help you.

but no, he didn't want to get shot in the head for insubordination.

jeno manually props you against the wall, cringing at the trail of blood that stains the tiles and pools underneath you. your shirt—rather, jeno's—was soaked through with the crimson liquid, your hair sticking to the side of your head. it feels like you were burning from the inside with every breath you take.

maybe months, years, of compliance made you forgetful. after all, jeno is a man of his word, through and through. he can only threaten you so much until he snaps. maybe he deemed the swift punishments and his harsh words insufficient. but who were you kidding? with the stunt you pulled… fuck, why did you even think of making a run for it? you should've known you won't even make it across the street! stupid. stupid. stupid.

you swore never to make him angry enough to bring you back down here in the torture chambers—this is his domain, and you shivered in fear with every fleeting thought you have about what he does behind those cement walls.

the first time jeno took you down here had been granted by the boss himself (see, the man running the mafia has favorites). jeno's men held you by the arms and made you watch as he killed a poor guy with his bare hands. slowly, excruciatingly, bleeding out because of the wounds jeno inflicted with his fists alone.

the second time was because of your first escape attempt. ah, you had been so energetic back then. always talking back, snarling and cursing him out. after that second time, you've become more compliant and have thoroughly embodied whatever sick fantasy jeno had of you. his broken doll, unseeing, unthinking, who breathes and lives only because he wanted her to.

you've heard him countless times say how much he missed that energetic personality you had. but only because you knew at least then he'd think the cruel punishments are justified.

oftentimes, he'll say it when you two are alone, in his room at headquarters, too disgustingly intimate like lovers and not a whore and her owner. his cold lips leavees a sweet trail on your neck, blood-stained hands soiling your skin underneath the dirty shirt, before finally slotting himself next to you as the cot creaks with the extra weight. he reeked of sweat and metallic and his eyes hazy from that post-bloodlust high.

jeno's boots squelch when he steps closer. never crouching, he wanted you to feel that severe power imbalance between the two of you.

"i won't ask you to apologize. not when i know you don't mean it."

you don't bother to reply. not because you don't want to but because you can't, voice utterly hoarse and scratchy from screaming while jeno breaks and tears you down as if he doesn't whisper the words i love you at night. you're his lover only when he needs you to be. sad, that he rarely felt the need of a lover and more so needed a cunny to fuck.

finally, he crouches. slow and never breaking eye contact. he raises a hand to push a strand of hair away from your face probably. you flinch. he doesn't care. "jeno, please don't touch me." but he touches you anyway.

you feel the callouses in his palms as he caresses your face. the calm before the storm. the deep inhale before the plunge. jeno grabs your chin and tilts your head up, a serene smile ghosting his lips. he looked at peace. satisfied. and you have never been more scared of him than you ever did in the last four years.

"don't cry, little dove. i'm not even done yet."

jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[writteninkat]

ii - rubies?!

word count - 1,903

warnings - mention of scars

"he's so tall and handsome as hell. he's so bad but he does it so well."

index

As you waited for April to come around, you spent your remaining days working out and training your quirk on your own. You didn't want to look for your father nor did you want to bump into him- the only time you wanted to see him was during UA's sports festival where you know he'll be watching so you can rub it in his face how good your life is without him.

As you work out in your apartment building's gym, you can't keep the blond out of your head. Was he doing alright? Should you have asked for his phone number at least? Where did he study? Was he even from this area?

Your mind races and wanders around thoughts about the blond, causing you to trip on your own feet on the treadmill. Before your hands come in contact with the running deck, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist, saving you from the fall but not from the embarrassment.

You take a few moments to stop and think about what just happened, allowing the whole thing to just sink in. I almost tripped because I was thinking about some guy. Stupid mistake.

Your savior puts you down beside the treadmill, hands immediately letting go of your waist. "You okay?" Despite having such buffed-up arms, he had such a sweet voice. You look to your right, checking to see the face of your knight in shining armor.

"My name's Izuku Midoriya." He smiles widely, extending his hand towards you. You take it, smiling back. "Y/n L/n, and yeah, I'm alright. Thanks for saving me, I could have attended my first day in UA with a bandage on my forehead." You chuckled, watching the guy's facial expression turn into excitement.

"No way! You'll be attending UA? That's crazy so am I!"

Your eyes widen, finally someone I can be close to in that new school. "What class are you in?" You move to turn off the treadmill, picking up your water bottle from the floor. You unscrew the cap, taking large sips as you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Class 1A."

The water backfires, going down the wrong pipe. You cough out the water, rubbing your chest in pain as Midoriya pats on your back in worry. "You okay? Again?"

You wave your hand at him, coughing a few more times before clearing your throat. "So am I." Your voice comes out rough and broken but still understandable.

For the rest of the day, you chat with Midoriya, getting to know each other as you helped each other work out. Like whenever you needed help with your form, he'd guide you. When he needed more weight on his back as he did push up, you were more than happy to sit on him as you scrolled through your cellphone.

As the end of the day, before the two of you part, he asks for your number so it would be easier to contact you. You kind of regret giving it to him cause he wouldn't shut up about the heroes he looked up to. He was such a hero nerd you found it funny.

When he calmed down and told you good night, you hit the sack yourself, images of the angry blond with beautiful ruby eyes filling your head as you fell asleep with a smile. And honestly, that was the best sleep you've had in years.

You're walking yourself to your new school, heart drumming against your chest. The feeling was a little too nostalgic, it was the same feeling you felt back when you came to UA for the practical exam. It felt like time went by a little too fast. You calm your mind, remembering your mom's text to you earlier that morning, telling you good luck with your first day.

You try recalling your goal- to become a hero despite my father telling me I couldn't. To become a hero, to become a hero to become-

"Hey Y/n!" Midoriya waves at you, his smile as bright as the sun. It's sickening but you shrug it off, it suits his face. "Oh, I hope it's alright if I call you Y/n."

"Only if I can call you Izuku." You wink at him, smiling as you continue your way towards the building. As Izuku rambled on about how nervous he was for today that he couldn't sleep properly, your mind raced back to the thought of the school uniform being uncomfortable.

You were so used to wear pants that showing off your legs seemed taboo to you. Don't get it wrong, you like your legs, you think they're okay. But you've been wearing pants maybe eighty percent of your life that you don't like showing even your knees. You can't sit the way you want with skirts- especially if the way you want is your legs either parted apart as you sink onto your chair or your legs on the desk as you scroll through your phone lazily.

Given that it was school rules to wear a uniform, you decided to cover up your legs with black thigh high instead, cursing at the skirt for being a little bit too short for your liking.

"Here it is." Izuku points up at the board right above the classroom door that read 1A. "I just hope I'm not classmates with Tenya or Kacchan." He chuckles, reaching for the door.

"Tenya? That glasses dude who seemed like someone pissed in his cheerios the morning of the exam?" Izuku nods his head but your mind wasn't at ease just yet. Who the hell was this Kacchan?

Your mind wanders again but your thoughts clear away when you hear two people arguing.

"Take your feet off that desk now." You chuckle, recognizing that voice. You mentally send a sorry to Izuku's way.

"Hah?" And that voice too!

You look up, scanning the room and looking for your two new classmates who were arguing. Iida's back covers who he's getting mad at, forcing you to step inside the classroom to get a better look.

"It's the first day and you're already disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property you cretin."

"You're kidding me right? Your old school put a stick in your ass?"

As you thought, that voice belonged to the same guy who's been infiltrating your head ever since you met him. Day and night. However his attitude caught you off guard, he wasn't this rude when the two of you met.

"Rubies?" You say out loud, the blond, or as Izuku calls him, Kacchan looks your way, eyes widening at the sight of you in the same classroom as him. His once smug expression is wiped off his face as he stares at you, completely taken off guard.

Tenya and a brown haird girl who looked a little too much like Kirby approached Izuku and they began talking to him. You, in the other hand, are being pulled out of the classroom by the blond. His hand still as soft as you remember, his grip isn't even that tight around your wrist. Just enough to tug you to where he wanted to bring you without hurting you.

The two of you stand right outside the door leading to the back of the classroom. He turns around, smug expression completely gone and replaced by confusion.

"You never told me you went to UA." He says, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he leans his side on the wall. You cross your arms on your chest, leaning to the side as you rest most of your weight on one leg. "You never asked." The two of you look at each other in silence for a few moments, your heart going haywire in your chest as he keeps his eyes on you. Such eyes that could keep you in a cage of trance forever.

Bakugou opens his mouth but before he could get a word out, a tired voice cuts him off. "Get inside the classroom." He tired-looking man with unkept hair and peach fuzz tells you both. Was he the school janitor? Nevertheless, the both of you walked back inside the classroom, Bakugou's eyes silently telling you that the two of you were going to finish the conversation later.

You sat down on your seat, eyes following the same tired-looking man as he stood in front of the class. "My name is Shota Aizawa. I'll be your homeroom teacher from now on."

He hands all of you your PE uniforms, telling you all to quickly change into them. You follow the girls to the changing rooms and you hang your PE uniform on your locker, already unbuttoning your uniform but you stop yourself.

I can't show them that.

A girl with long black hair, similar to yours, looks at you from the side, her expression questioning. "I don't think Aizawa sensei is okay with late students. You should quickly change."

You wrap your hands around yourself, cringing at the thought of other eyes on your body. The girl's expression changes into a softer one and she smiles, "Don't worry, nobody here will judge. All bodies are beautiful the way they are."

Exactly, yeah. If these girls were going to be your second family until you graduate highschool, you shouldn't be afraid. You can trust them, right?

Slowly, with slightly trembling hands, you begin unbuttoning your uniform. Taking a deep breath in, you slip your long sleeve down your body, showcasing the many scars that littered all over your back.

You can feel the atmosphere change into a silent, much colder one and your thoughts begin to race. Was it wrong for you to show them this? You've only been together for a few hours, how could you show such a vulnerable side of yourself?

Your eyes squeeze shut, ready for the comments and snickers but instead you hear a squeal. "We have the same bra!" A pink girl squeals, pointing at her pink lacy bra. A smile creeps onto your face as the girl extends her hand towards you, "I'm Mina Ashido. Nice to meet you, twinnie!" She perks and as soon as you take her hand, she shakes it softly before pulling away.

You quickly dress up into your PE uniform, pulling your hair up into a ponytail. "Woah, L/n! The white streaks on your hair look so cool! Where did you get them done?" Mina asks, completely taken by your hair, her eyes sparkling as you flushed at her compliment. No one has ever complimented your hair so genuinely like that before, makes you feel kind of proud having it.

"It's actually natural. My dad has black hair and my mom has white." The girls begin to ooooh and soon after, you all have reached the fields. Aizawa stands beside a white square with a device in his hand, patiently waiting with lazy eyes on his students.

"You should put your hair up like that more. I think the white streaks are cool." Bakugou tells you, his eyes and face forward as he listens to Aizawa talking.

You wouldn't tell him, but his words had your stomach feeling weird things and you feel your face slowly heat up. You swallow whatever you were feeling and face forward.

"Don't tell me what to do, rubies."

You had to buy more ponytails.