#which would have been traumatic but less so

[physalian]

The thing about this is—and I’ve said it before—putting your characters in a situation where them not knowing what to do can be just as compelling and even easier to write than if you try to skate by on “idk this looks cool” for a character who should be an expert in their field.

I am not an experienced battle tactician, and I write fantasy and scifi, and I also hate blocking and choreographing big fight scenes with a lot of elements.

A few things I’ve done instead of a straight up A vs B battle are below. Character cannot rely on their otherwise expertise in this situation because doing things the right and smart way is…

Too expensive (money, resources, or time)

Too risky with unplanned collateral around them

Too dangerous

They’ve been caught completely unawares

They’re impaired in some way (drunk, drugged, blinded, deafened, anesthetized)

They’re majorly emotionally compromised by some other event and not thinking straight

I have a character who is a living weapon and a veteran of warfare. I am not either of these things. The mechanics of the war he fought relied heavily on being insanely reckless with his health, and half-hoping he’d never make it back from any one mission. Due to magic, if he went and lost a limb on the battlefield, a mage could just make him a new one. He was very, very hard to kill.

The current plot takes place after the fact, when that magic is unavailable. When he gets caught in Situations, all his training relies on tactics he can no longer use, so he’s constantly having to improvise, on top of being traumatized. Therefore, his dumb mistakes and erratic behavior are perfectly in-character for him and make sense for his powers and the world when he can’t spam the insta-kill button without serious consequences like he used to.

But, obviously, not everyone is writing that type of character.

In my other series, I have so far one big battle scene fought entirely by immortal vampires who have been ambushed in their own castle. This battle is an uncoordinated mess, but (I think) it works for a few reasons:

This is a post-war setting and many vampires in this fight have no actual battle experience and just are not prepared for this. They haven’t trained in a coordinated effort in any capacity, as no one ever believed they’d have to.

They left a massive hole in their defenses open that no one would ever think to exploit and the initial surprise attack sends the competent leaders of this resistance scrambling to get their orders heard and keep people from scattering

Because of this surprise, the competent leaders quickly get spread thin trying to patch leaks in the metaphorical dam, and, without phones or radio, lines of proximity communication get cut instantly, and no one has any idea where anyone else is, all now with suddenly different and critical priorities like fires, vulnerable mortals, and a zombie horde scaling their wall.

Basically, I’ve put my characters into a situation that they were horrifically unprepared for, so the emphasis of the story focuses less on actual tactics and more on the creativity and ingenuity of individual characters backed into a corner.

—

Both of these work really well for the stories that I’ve set out to tell, because I know my strengths and duct-taping a scene together with two real, competent armies going at each other just isn’t in my wheelhouse. You don’t have to write the big coordinated battle scene just because it’s popular in your genre. You can set up the stakes and elements in your favor to remove the need to study complex strategies if the situation the characters are in demands all that pre-planning or expected knowledge just isn’t useful or isn’t possible.

In both of these books, should the day come when I do need to have a coordinated campaign war effort, I already have my secret weapon: In both books, neither hero side ever has the numbers for a proper battle, they always have to rely on guerilla warfare, ambushes, and pretty dirty tricks.

Which are a whole lot easier to plan and visualize as a lone writer than studying battlefield mechanics at the scale of tens of thousands with infantry, cavalry, archers, and heavy weapons.

Make it easy on yourself and, well, write what you know.

the problem with knowing things about battle tactics is that an ever-increasing subset of popular media becomes impossible to enjoy properly because you have to sit there like 'wow Captain Protagonist good to know all those dead people on your own side are a direct result of your total lack of anything resembling brains'

[hannibals-grahamcracker]

Hannibal for the headcanons!

Omg Seri hiiiii!!

Okay so my headcanons for Hannibal:

A: realistic.

Hannibal doesn't particularly care about sex until he and Will are officially together. He's always used it as a manipulation tactic, a way for him to get ahead, and with the men he's been with in the past (because let's be realistic, that man couldn't give less of a fuck about his sexual partners' gender or sex), he's always taken the role of the top because it's the role others naturally assume for him, and what better way to get ahead and lower suspicion than by playing into the role someone already thinks you play? Will changes this, because Will is focused on both of their pleasure (most of the time—he does sometimes have a sadistic streak and we love him for it), he doesn't assume anything about Hannibal's sexual habits. Hannibal actually enjoys sex with Will; he doesn't have to play into a preconceived notion of how he's supposed to act and it's one of the areas of life in which he's learned to let go and give over his control to Will. The first time Will initiated anything sexual, Hannibal found it shockingly easy to let him have control. Turns out he quite likes being a bottom. Who knew? (All of us, we all knew.)

B: maybe not realistic but funny.

We know that Hannibal doesn't like Will's aftershave and thinks it's atrocious. My proposal to you is that he does like it (because it smells like Will and I'm delusional), and his little quip about Will wearing bad aftershave was to save face because he had a slip up and refuses to admit that smelling Will was weird. He needed an excuse and by god, that man commits to the bit. He is nothing if not dedicated.

C: heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends.

Hannibal obviously has deep-seated trauma regarding his sister and what happened to her, although he refuses to admit it. In the show, he says he ate her to forgive her. I headcanon that the reality of the situation is that they were held hostage by Soviet deserters (closer to his original backstory and also because his childhood would have been spent in Soviet occupied Lithuania), who starved both he and Mischa, then proceeded to take her from him, kill her, and eat her. He convinces himself that he made the choice to eat her instead of being delirious from hunger and illness and being forcibly fed her remains via soup. He knows this isn't true, but it's something he can't admit to himself, because that would mean that his entire philosophy on cannibalism as forgiveness and honor/love is flawed, and that he was at a point in his life not in control of the world around him. When he got away, he aimlessly wandered through the blizzard raging outside before being found and taken in, then rightfully returned to the custody of his uncle. As an adult, he learned to cope with his loss and his fear of harsh winters. Until the fall. Both he and Will obviously suffered damages in the fall; Hannibal suffers from a mild to moderate traumatic brain injury and has to learn to cope with this. He no longer has as much control over his mental barriers and therefore cannot reasonably keep certain doors closed in his mind palace. No matter how much he managed to convince himself otherwise before, he remembers what actually happened to him every time it snows more than a few inches. He insists that Will can't go out during snow storms, under the guise of it being unwise because they're on the run and if he gets stuck in the storm and someone recognizes him, they may as well be dead. The one time Will does leave, he returns home to find Hannibal nearly catatonic, unable to speak more than a few words in his native language. Will has obviously noticed changes in Hannibal's personality, especially his ability to hide his emotions, but he's so shaken by this that he refuses to leave Hannibal alone if it so much as flurries.

D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it.

Post-fall, Hannibal is basically a glorified housewife. He cooks, cleans, and looks pretty for Will, and it's his greatest pleasure in life. He buys anything Will wants, and does whatever is asked of him simply because he can.

[aspd-culture]

aspd culture (onset since young childhood) is wishing the community would talk more about how traumatic it is to grow up like this. not just because of what’s been done to us to make us this way but how traumatic it is to grow up antisocial. i have so much grief about it.

CW, for pwASPD, this may be upsetting to read.

Completely agree, like yes to get this disorder, we had trauma to begin with, but also growing up with ASPD is extremely traumatic itself. The earlier the antisocial traits come up, the more risk the child in question will spend their whole life ostracized and potentially hated for things they cannot control.

A child with antisocial traits appears (in my experience from discussions with prosocials about how they saw me when they met me) to have a similar “uncanny valley” impact that autistic people get. Somehow, it really feels like the second I met someone, they knew something I didn’t know about myself - saw something wrong with me I couldn’t see. I was told I was “weird” by people who didn’t know me - which is the autism - but also people I’d never met said they were scared of me. This sometimes continues into adulthood, or sometimes we get good enough at masking that people stop being able to tell. Regardless, there are almost always a number of years we deal with that, leading us to have less if any friends on top of what we’re already dealing with.

And that’s not all - we also have to deal with the symptoms themselves without having any idea what’s going on. Our brain has been convinced we can only trust ourselves and that everyone is out for only themselves and we can’t trust anyone fully. We grow up often without being able to let anyone but a close few in, if that. We grow up without the instincts or understanding of how and why other humans form these deep social connections and how they’re doing it safely but we can’t seem to be able to without getting hurt.

And humans, as pack animals, need to be around other humans and have close bonds to feel safe since in the wild we wouldn’t have been safe on our own. This means our hypervigilance from PTSD is often exponentially more intense because it is always on the high alert of a pack animal forced to live on its own. That can also strain any relationships with Exceptions if we have any because we may cling to them early on as our brain struggles to try and form the bonds it instinctually feels it needs to survive and protect itself with whatever “pack” it can manage to build. On top of that, any bonds our Exceptions make may feel like they are putting themselves in danger and we need to protect them. In some cases this will cause us extreme anxiety, in others it may lead to us engaging in toxic behaviors to try and isolate them to keep them safe, and in others still it may make us feel forced to abandon them or at least distance from them and lose one of our few close social bonds to protect ourself since we can’t protect them.

Also if the “switch flipped” (for those who had that experience) late enough that we were already in these social bonds, there may have been this sinking distrust of people we were already close to that we’d made some grave mistake trusting them, and closing off to the world like this can be terrifying because it’s a neurological difference - our development isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be and the gap between how our peers interact and see the world vs how we do just keeps getting wider.

And that’s not even all of it - I have an alter who had much less of the antisocial traits in childhood (no alter can have no symptoms of a neurological difference, but remember the reason ASPD can’t be diagnosed under 18 is that the brain has not been set in that development yet - in many ways this alter acted out the goals of a brain trying desperately to develop properly and outrun the closing of the period where I couldn’t socially develop that way), so I didn’t have to live like this all day every day until around 13. I’m sure for those that didn’t have that split but still had their brain attempting normal development, it was even more distressing and traumatic to feel that pull towards people at the same time as that push away from them.

On top of all of that, antisocial traits can worsen or create abuse for the child because the way they act offends authority figures and/or bullies, and this can put or leave us in harm’s way as they choose to actively target us or refuse to protect us the way they would other kids when someone else targets us. And then there’s the disciplinary action and deep cuts to self esteem if the child deals with the more violent symptoms - often, children engaging in those behaviors aren’t recognized as needing help. They’re either considered bad kids or products of bad parents and dismissed or actively berated by the people who could help them to understand what’s happening and do better.

If we ever do understand what’s happening because of getting help, sometimes the professional themselves is ableist and will take that ableism out on a child with antisocial traits.

By the time we accept what’s happening - whether we know what it is or not - we are very aware that our experience is different than the other kids. It’s not hard to see that they’ve been dealt a different - and from the outside, often seemingly better - hand than we have.

If we get diagnosed (or self diagnose) as an adult, now we get hit with the fact that this can’t be diagnosed until adulthood and why. Even when we thought we were stuck with this, apparently someone could have done something to get us back to normal development. Not everyone wants that, but for those of us that do there is so much grief at realizing how low the bar is to help a child process would-be PTSD so it doesn’t become PTSD and especially at how low the percentage of needs that need to be met to form a secure attachment style. Things could have been different. They should have been different. There was so much time and such a low bar to meet and instead we got this.

Having ASPD very often causes a lot of grief, and in return we’re often treated like monsters if we talk about it.

To be clear this is not exhaustive of the trauma growing up with ASPD causes - it is some of mine and some I’ve heard from others with ASPD speak about - but it also isn’t universal. Not every pwASPD has experienced every piece of what I’ve discussed here (for example I have not dealt with every one of these things, but I’ve dealt with a majority of it), what exact trauma they endure from growing up with ASPD involves many factors like what trauma caused it and how old they were when the traits started to show up etc.

Plain text below the cut:

CW, for pwASPD, this may be upsetting to read.

Completely agree, like yes to get this disorder, we had trauma to begin with, but also growing up with ASPD is extremely traumatic itself. The earlier the antisocial traits come up, the more risk the child in question will spend their whole life ostracized and potentially hated for things they cannot control.

A child with antisocial traits appears (in my experience from discussions with prosocials about how they saw me when they met me) to have a similar “uncanny valley” impact that autistic people get. Somehow, it really feels like the second I met someone, they knew something I didn’t know about myself - saw something wrong with me I couldn’t see. I was told I was “weird” by people who didn’t know me - which is the autism - but also people I’d never met said they were scared of me. This sometimes continues into adulthood, or sometimes we get good enough at masking that people stop being able to tell. Regardless, there are almost always a number of years we deal with that, leading us to have less if any friends on top of what we’re already dealing with.

And that’s not all - we also have to deal with the symptoms themselves without having any idea what’s going on. Our brain has been convinced we can only trust ourselves and that everyone is out for only themselves and we can’t trust anyone fully. We grow up often without being able to let anyone but a close few in, if that. We grow up without the instincts or understanding of how and why other humans form these deep social connections and how they’re doing it safely but we can’t seem to be able to without getting hurt.

And humans, as pack animals, need to be around other humans and have close bonds to feel safe since in the wild we wouldn’t have been safe on our own. This means our hypervigilance from PTSD is often exponentially more intense because it is always on the high alert of a pack animal forced to live on its own. That can also strain any relationships with Exceptions if we have any because we may cling to them early on as our brain struggles to try and form the bonds it instinctually feels it needs to survive and protect itself with whatever “pack” it can manage to build. On top of that, any bonds our Exceptions make may feel like they are putting themselves in danger and we need to protect them. In some cases this will cause us extreme anxiety, in others it may lead to us engaging in toxic behaviors to try and isolate them to keep them safe, and in others still it may make us feel forced to abandon them or at least distance from them and lose one of our few close social bonds to protect ourself since we can’t protect them.

Also if the “switch flipped” (for those who had that experience) late enough that we were already in these social bonds, there may have been this sinking distrust of people we were already close to that we’d made some grave mistake trusting them, and closing off to the world like this can be terrifying because it’s a neurological difference - our development isn’t going the way it’s supposed to be and the gap between how our peers interact and see the world vs how we do just keeps getting wider.

And that’s not even all of it - I have an alter who had much less of the antisocial traits in childhood (no alter can have no symptoms of a neurological difference, but remember the reason ASPD can’t be diagnosed under 18 is that the brain has not been set in that development yet - in many ways this alter acted out the goals of a brain trying desperately to develop properly and outrun the closing of the period where I couldn’t socially develop that way), so I didn’t have to live like this all day every day until around 13. I’m sure for those that didn’t have that split but still had their brain attempting normal development, it was even more distressing and traumatic to feel that pull towards people at the same time as that push away from them.

On top of all of that, antisocial traits can worsen or create abuse for the child because the way they act offends authority figures and/or bullies, and this can put or leave us in harm’s way as they choose to actively target us or refuse to protect us the way they would other kids when someone else targets us. And then there’s the disciplinary action and deep cuts to self esteem if the child deals with the more violent symptoms - often, children engaging in those behaviors aren’t recognized as needing help. They’re either considered bad kids or products of bad parents and dismissed or actively berated by the people who could help them to understand what’s happening and do better.

If we ever do understand what’s happening because of getting help, sometimes the professional themselves is ableist and will take that ableism out on a child with antisocial traits.

By the time we accept what’s happening - whether we know what it is or not - we are very aware that our experience is different than the other kids. It’s not hard to see that they’ve been dealt a different - and from the outside, often seemingly better - hand than we have.

If we get diagnosed (or self diagnose) as an adult, now we get hit with the fact that this can’t be diagnosed until adulthood and why. Even when we thought we were stuck with this, apparently someone could have done something to get us back to normal development. Not everyone wants that, but for those of us that do there is so much grief at realizing how low the bar is to help a child process would-be PTSD so it doesn’t become PTSD and especially at how low the percentage of needs that need to be met to form a secure attachment style. Things could have been different. They should have been different. There was so much time and such a low bar to meet and instead we got this.

Having ASPD very often causes a lot of grief, and in return we’re often treated like monsters if we talk about it.

To be clear this is not exhaustive of the trauma growing up with ASPD causes - it is some of mine and some I’ve heard from others with ASPD speak about - but it also isn’t universal. Not every pwASPD has experienced every piece of what I’ve discussed here (for example I have not dealt with every one of these things, but I’ve dealt with a majority of it), what exact trauma they endure from growing up with ASPD involves many factors like what trauma caused it and how old they were when the traits started to show up etc.

[my-wee-hughie]

Hughie in Season 4:

Episode 1 - Found out his dad had a stroke and he wasn't there to answer his phone call

Episode 2 - Dealing with his mum who is not apologetic about abandoning them. He's furious and upset that she's been given power of attorney for his dad

Episode 3 - Nearly killed by Homelander, facing his mum and trying to understand why she left them

Episode 4 - Obtaining Compound V for his dad, getting injured and ruthlessly killing someone in the process

Episode 5 - His mum goes behind his back and gives his dad the Compound V, which results in innocent lives being lost. Hughie had to euthanise his own father

Episode 6 - On the same day as the funeral, he gets molested by Ashley and almost raped by Tek Knight. He had an emotional breakdown at the end after he bottled everything up

Episode 7 - Gets attacked by a shapeshifter, tries and fails to convince Neuman to change her mind, deceived into having sex with the shapeshifter.

Episode 8 - 🫠

[sherlock-is-ace]

the imposter syndrome i feel every time i even slightly think i might be autistic is insane, specially for a person who highly relates to the lived experiences of people who are professionally diagnosed.

Like I was just watching this one youtuber, and she was talking about very specific examples in her life and childhood where she saw autistic traits that made her realize she was autistic and then seek a diagnosis and then get one, and everything she was saying was like she was describing my life! But yeah no, I can't be autistic tho

[rivilu]

Wait. Logistically speaking. Would Elluin even know how to read.

[justsomestuffreally]

I think the Batkids reaction to a Bruce who isn't de-aged to 8 but rather 29 (pre-Jason death, post his adoption) would be fascinating. 

Their reaction would vary wildly:

Dick: Oh. Bruce is soft again. Bruce calls them ‘chum’ and ‘buddy’ and gives head pats for no reason. He still isn’t perfect, his communication skills are still a work in progress, but compared to his future self? Without actively dying Dick is hugged plenty. Bruce asks him to go to the zoo, unrelated to any case, just to spend time together. Dick is hit with more nostalgia and longing for the past than he knows what to do with.

Also notable: his dad is younger than him. That is something. Second, holy existential crisis Batman, his dad is younger than him and already one adult and one teenage kid??? Dick is not ready to feel this old yet. Third, Dick has absolutely no idea how Bruce managed to stay patient through his no-pants years. He is going to thank reason every day from now on that Damian wears full protection.

Jason: After his death and League he clung to an image of Bruce. One many tried to beat out of him, but he still kept it somewhere close to his heart, buried deep enough even he couldn’t see it. When he came back Bruce wasn’t like this idea of him. How stupid of him to believe the mind of a traumatized kid. Trying to create one good thing before the kid drew his last breath. Making up memories that never even existed.

But they did. Every smile and hug and even his words reflect the image tugged safely against his still-beating heart. His dad very clearly, very deeply loves him. Which is so much worse. Because he can understand why a Bruce, who never cared, didn’t kill the Joker. But he cares. So why the fuck did he not kill the Joker?

Tim: The reason he joined the family, the reason why he became Robin in the first place was because he saw a problem when Bruce started self-destructing and thought ‘Someone needs to fix that!’. Therefore he went and collected Dick, who didn’t seem keen on fixing it. So, the job fell to him to fix it.

He thought he did a good job, he thought he fixed the problem. Except now he sees who Bruce was, and he knows he failed. Their Bruce is less soft, less affectionate, less like he was before. Batman needs a Robin and Tim didn’t manage to be good enough of one to save him. 

[Or: Tim has a guilt complex a hundred miles wide and blames himself for things that aren’t his fault part 52]

Steph: Jason and she are very similar. Both come from the Narrows, both have a mother addicted to drugs and a shitty father. The differences start when Steph keeps waiting on the roof of their apartment for Batman to whisk her away, while Jason tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile and is taken in.

When Steph started out as Spoiler Bruce tried to keep her off the field, and obviously this one would too (even if he would probably be less paranoid about it), but she knows this Bruce would have also taken her in. This Bruce would be the father she always wished for when she sat on their roof and couldn’t see any stars. 

And she didn’t get to have this because Jason went ahead and died. (Of course, she knows she isn’t fair to the guy. Dying isn’t fun… And she knows the only reason she lived is because he died. When Batman rescued her from Black Mask she was in such terrible shape that Leslie managed to convince the World’s Greatest Detective that she died. If Jason hadn’t died Bruce wouldn’t have been as paranoid, wouldn’t have noticed her missing so soon, wouldn’t have been as urgent in his response. Would have been just a minute slower, a minute which would have killed her. Just as it had Jason.)

For her, this Bruce is a distorted mirror into a past which never was. 

Cass: This Bruce and B are not the same person. They don’t move the same. In a fight, this Bruce is younger, faster, stronger. Doesn’t compensate for a previously broken spine. Less experienced. Still one of the most experienced she knows, but less. 

He still moves differently, outside a fight, less pain. More likely to engage in physical affection, more likely to hug and pat and talk. He talks more than B. B knows what she means without words. This Bruce doesn’t.

She likes this Bruce, warmth, and softness. But not as much as B. He knows what she means, when she wants a hug, when she tells him ‘I love you’ without words. B doesn’t need words. This Bruce doesn’t know her, doesn’t communicate like her. She wants B back.

Damian: At first, when this version of his father seemed uncanny and oddly familiar, he assumed it to be due to the stories of his mother. After all, she always told him tales about his father. He simply did not have the frame of reference to understand the kindness she spoke of. Clearly, the clash between the ideals of the League and the ones of his father causes these feelings, just as they did when he first entered the manor.

He presumed this to be the case until one day on patrol Batman laid a hand on his shoulder and told him he did a good job after no particularly impressive fight and he nearly called him ‘Grayson’. Because the stories of his mother may have painted the picture of this version of his father, however, it wasn’t what made it familiar; no, he knew this kindness. These hugs and compliments one would bestow upon a child. Compliments which, despite the indignity, still warm him. Because Grayson learned how to be a… caregiver from his father.

His father used to be like Grayson, used to be until his grief hardened him. Damian could have had this. Damian could have a brother and father who would- But he doesn’t because of Todd. He loathes Todd. Loathes him for ruining the life he could have had.

Why did he die anyway? Damian certainly wouldn’t have a problem escaping bonds created by the Joker, Damian would have disarmed the bomb in time, Damian would have never thrown this life away like he did.

[Or: Damian is a child who was raised by assassins and has unreasonable standards for fighting abilities and also is a child who needs to focus his rage on someone.]

Duke: He was neither there before Jason died nor in the aftermath [according to my math he was around 4 when Jason died] he joined the family when Jason was already back for 4 years or so. He mostly skipped all the drama. For him, Bruce is the way Bruce is because he is Bruce. It’s weird to see him so different, to see how grief shaped parts of Bruce which Duke assumed were just Bruce things.

He’s glad this Bruce is brighter, or not because it just highlights how much that light will dim? Who knows, certainly not him. 

What he does know is that, with their Bruce, he has a distance which, with his parents still alive, he appreciates. With this Bruce, he can understand why Dick struggled so much whether he wants to be his ward or son, how he doesn’t want to replace his parents but still have this Bruce as a dad. It definitely explained the ted talk Dick tried to give him after Bruce officially took him in as a ward.

He likes this Bruce well enough, but he doesn’t necessarily want him to stay this way. Yes, their Bruce is less happy, less open but he did heal, he did grow. Duke met a Bruce who tried to learn from his mistakes, learned to communicate better, and learned when to pull and when to push. For Tim, Damian, Dick, and certainly Jason there is too much baggage, too much history in their relationships, it’s difficult for them to ever move past- anything really.

Sure, when Dick and Bruce are on the same page they are essentially invincible but then the past catches up again and they don’t talk to each other for months. And honestly? Apart from Cass, Duke’s pretty sure he has one of the best relationships with Bruce simply because he got to know him at a better time.

Duke doesn’t mind this Bruce. But their Bruce loved Jason, cared for him so deeply the scars still show to this day. And he still chooses to open up again even if just a bit by bit. Even if just Duke can see it. He is used to being the only one that can see.

And maybe knowing this care extends to him, this love even grief can’t shake? Maybe it makes him feel just a little bit safer, a little bit warmer, a little bit brighter.

[ambrosiagourmet]

I love Izutsumi. She's got a great design, she's a fun addition to the main party, she adds some new tension, and she's honestly one of the reasons I read dungeon meshi in the first place. I mean, "the most cat to ever girl" is an extremely appealing hook to anyone who loves cats and girls (me, I love cats and girls).

However, while I have always liked Izutsumi, I finished the story kind of feeling like I didn't really get her. I felt like I had a decent grasp on her character an character arc (she's a traumatized teen given space to feel safe and open up, and because of that she realizes that she can't grow without letting go of the coping mechanisms she once needed). But I didn't feel like I really understood her role in the story as a whole.

She follows the group of her own accord, after a coincidental meeting and a misunderstanding of what they can do for her. She's never super invested in saving Falin, at least not compared to the rest of the group. Though they do help her escape Maizuru's shackles, and are clearly good for her in general, she doesn't really have a healing Moment with the group the way that Senshi does with the hippogriff soup.

And yet, she gets an entire chapter, the third-to-last chapter, dedicated to exploring her growth and future. She's the one who frames much of the falling action, who lets us check in with everyone. She's the one who helps talk Laios into accepting his role as king. She may join the story part way through, but she is there for most of it. So Izutsumi! What's your deal!?

Well, I think I've come up with an answer, at least for myself, that I really like. Two of them, even! Though they both really work together to form the overall point - Izutsumi is the character that most helps the story face towards the future. Here's why I think that.

So the first of these "ah-ha" moments was when I realized that Izutsumi really is the best supporting evidence for Laios' point about the good things that wouldn't have happened if Falin hadn't died.

If Falin hadn't been eaten by the dragon, Izutsumi probably would still be a slave. It was because of Shuro and Laios' parties both being in the dungeon to rescue Falin, as well as Marcille's use of ancient magic in the resurrection, that she got the chance to escape. None of that would have been the case if Falin hadn't died. Shuro wouldn't have separated from the group and joined up with his retainers, Marcille wouldn't have revealed her knowledge of ancient magic, and Izutsumi never would have even met any of them. They are only part of her life because of Falin's death.

Though this isn't explicitly pointed out by Laios or Izutsumi in the scene, I do think you can very much feel the presence of it. For one, when Marcille reflects on the journey and how much it made her realize she didn't want to lose everyone, her relationship with Izutsumi is prominent:

It's the main original group at the top and center, but when you read it right to left, it’s Izutsumi and Marcille who might catch your eye first. And it's specifically Marcille and Izutsumi's relationship on display here, not just Izutsumi's presence in the group in general.

Also, after Laios' statement about how none of their adventure would have happened without Falin dying, it is Izutsumi who gets the final word:

Izutsumi is also the one here who is the most forward-facing. Chilchuck is trying to correct Laios, Senshi is focused on the immediate future, and Izutsumi is talking about her new goal.

And I want to talk about that goal in general as well, because it’s also interesting how it comes up. In that moment, everyone is trying to remind Marcille of her less destructive desires - to eat food, to share it with them, and to meet Chilchuck's family. All of which are previously established, existing desires. When prompted by Chilchuck to join in, however, Izutsumi offers something new:

That's interesting, isn't it? It's kind of funny, of course, to see her rambling on about a completely new thing, her own personal motive, in the middle of everyone working together to reach out to Marcille. Izutsumi doesn't even know who Yaad is! But at the same time, it’s kind of meaningful. Amidst the focus on desires that everyone already had, she adds a completely new one to the mix. It’s even the final bridge that lets Laios reach Marcille.

It is, in fact, even an idea that comes back later to help out another lord of the dungeon. The idea of finding new goals and feeling new desires... this is exactly how Kabru reaches out to Mithrun, after the Winged Lion is gone

So yeah, Izutsumi's presence here, both in what she's actively choosing to say as well as what she represents of the consequences of Falin's death, supports the story's ideas of moving forward. Of accepting the past, and finding new reasons to live.

Which is all really good, and that alone works pretty well as an answer to what Izutsumi's role in the story is.

But oh, oh. There's more. Something I realized after having thought of all this, because I still couldn't let go of the feeling that there was still something I was missing.

And as I reviewed the things I loved about Izutsumi - her sometimes unhealthy ways of coping with trauma, her struggles with isolation, her skill with fighting, her selfishness contrasted with the ways she grows to care for and protect the group, her perpetually guarded nature, born from the seeming impossibility of ever fitting in or finding a safe place to just be herself - I realized something.

Izutsumi...

is a foil to Falin.

Where Falin copes with isolation and trauma by being eternally caring and struggling to say no to people, Izutsumi copes by constantly saying no to everything she can. Falin is often considered selfless, but does have selfish desires that she can’t easily express until a moment of crisis. Izutsumi is delightfully selfish, but chooses to stick by her friends when they need her. They are both transformed, against their will, into partly monstrous hybrids, and they both will have to live with that - there is no undoing what has been done to them.

Falin anchors the group in the past. Izutsumi pulls them towards the future. Neither would find freedom without the other - it is Falin's death that leads to Izutsumi joining the party, and likewise, it is Izutsumi who inspires the realization of how they can save Falin.

And Falin is her future, as much as Izutsumi is Falin's. Both learn to be a little more like each other, even though they never meet. Falin gets a little more selfish. Izutsumi gets a little more willing to bend.

In this context, I feel like I have finally started to understand just how important Izutsumi is to the story. She is a proof that they cannot just go back, and she is a clawed, happy-to-scratch-anyone-who-pisses-her-off reminder, at that. In any conversation about what the group wishes would have happened with Falin, she cannot be ignored or brushed aside.

She is a reminder that, even in the midst of a tragedy so big it feels like a shadow you will never escape, you have yet to met all the people you will love. Hell, some of those people might even be catgirls. We should all be so lucky.

[dyingswanpavlova]

"Your girl" - Part 20 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: His punishment is less of a punishment and more something like your greatest fear. Your jealousy gets worse and you're almost sure - What you once had, is lost. It has to be. And you're alone again.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, mentions of pregnancy/pregnancy issues, loneliness, isolation, jealousy, our girl is dying without him, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

Loving him wasn’t hard.

In fact, it got easier with each day. Each day which he drew further away from you, your own longing grew.

It was more than that  - it was a painful ache in your chest, a biblical yearning for something that was far more complicated than your comprehension could manage to pick up on.

He was yours.

And he was slowly slipping through your fingers.

You knew when it had started – it was obvious. The crack in the façade, nothing more than a word you didn’t mean, a phrase you threw at him, before you could stop yourself.

And yet, you didn’t know if that was truly the moment.

His eyes brought the greatest change in the shortest amount of time. The way they stayed dark and distant, no matter the pained glances you shot him – that was when you realized it. Something had changed and it would change further.

Your loneliness came back tenfold. It was worse, far worse, now that you knew what it felt like to be held.

To be loved.

The way he ignored you was unlike the first time he did it. He didn’t directly reject your advances, he didn’t stay silent this time. His voice was there, like a soft cloud enveloping you, but it lost its warmth. Just like his eyes lost their sparkle.

He was angry. You saw the anger, scratching at the surface, waiting for a moment to pierce through the painful distance between you. But so far? It never did.

And oh, how you would have preferred if it did.

The days got longer. And so did his work times. You couldn’t tell if that was because of what had happened between you or if maybe it was simply, truly just his work. But whatever it was, you had that silent fear in the back of your mind, quietly prodding, always expecting the thought to re-surface.

He met someone else.

The voice was as soft, as it was cruel. You couldn’t tell if it was your mother’s or your own. Whoever it was, it was no less painful. The thought of it alone was enough to make you go sick with jealousy. What if it was true? What if his long evenings, his early outings meant exactly that?

What if there was someone?

Someone who was ready to be everything he ever wanted?

Someone who didn’t doubt him.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest and you doubled over on the couch, hiding your face against your knees. A few minutes ago it had been close to two in the morning. He had never before stayed out so long, never. Normally, it seemed to you, he made his way back to you as fast as he could. He was like a man starved, starved for your touch, for your attention. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, you could also tell how he reveled in your kindness. In your gentleness. Sometimes, he’d rest his head on your thigh, eyes closed and his lips parted in a soft sigh, as your fingers gently played with his hair and massaged his scalp. He didn’t allow it often, but when he did, he was vulnerable. It was a quiet understanding between the two of you. He didn’t give up his control entirely, not ever, but you got close. Close to the thin line that lingered between his need to dominate you at all times and his quiet desire to let loose every once in a while.

And now?

Now he was still out. Working.

And you still had no clue what the hell he was actually doing.

All you wanted was a name. A hint. Anything that proved to you that he was yours as much as you were his. You didn’t need a phone, didn’t need a chip to open the door, didn’t need anything besides him. The thought of being with someone else was repulsive to you. It had taken you so long to open up to him and nothing had ever changed it. Not the pain he caused you, not the fact that he played you like a puppet, pulling the strings of your life. In fact, the thought even brought you some comfort. You knew it was wrong, but you couldn’t help yourself.

Someone. Someone on the other side of the world cared about you enough to do all this. The things he did, the things had to endure. And now you were here.

His.

Irrevocable. Inevitable.

You were his.

But a part of you, a quiet part of your mind which feared his rejection more than death itself, was uncertain. Was he yours? Was he still yours?

No, he didn’t outright ignore you. He kept asking about your condition, he still brought you your breakfast. But his glances got rarer. His touches accidental. And his warmth vanished.

He also didn’t outright leave your bed. It was still yours, still his. Sometimes you’d watch him in the middle of the night as he lay deep asleep, curled up on the other side, his arms outstretched, his expression peaceful. But he didn’t reach for you. Every brush of your hand against his, every touch was initiated by you. And at some point, you stopped. You couldn’t.

You felt like a burden. You felt pathetic running after him, practically begging for his attention, for his affection. Sometimes he gave in, other times he rolled over, pretending to be too deep asleep. But you knew the truth. He was angry. Most likely he was hurt. And now you were, too.

It happened out of your control. The way he fell asleep on the sofa more often than not. You found yourself forced to go back to your bedroom on your own, lying awake for what felt like all night, until your exhaustion eventually caught up. You still felt sick. Pasta was disgusting. But the exhaustion was worse.

Many times you’d fall asleep before he even came home, so you couldn’t really tell when that was. Other times, when you got really unlucky, sleep wouldn’t find you, no matter what you did. Just like that night.

You sat trapped on the sofa, unable to grasp the essence of the situation. What had happened? What had gone so incredibly wrong?

Was one damn mistake really enough to shatter everything, to shatter the love he claimed to feel for you?

He only kept you around because of the child. You didn’t want to have such thoughts, but you couldn’t help it. That was exactly what it felt like. There was no love, let alone passion.

He hadn’t touched you ever since. And you had a feeling he wouldn’t. Ever again.

Your need became unbearable.

Of course you weren’t the most sexual person in the world. Your life had been turned and twisted before you met him and the thought of sex had all but disgusted you – the fantasy was fine. But really doing it? Impossible.

Yet, every brush of his fingers, every kiss against your temple, every breath and every shiver he sent down your spine – every time he took you, either like a gentle lover from a soft, romantic tale or like a man starved and stripped of his composure and control – it all fed into your need. Every memory of every encounter you had with him so far kept playing on repeat in your mind, whenever you lay in that bed alone. Often times you caught yourself staring at him. It wasn’t intended, it was out of your own mind. You sat motionless and watched as he rolled up his sleeves, as he changed his shirt. Every time he undid his belt buckle, something broke inside of you.

He caught on it, of course. He wasn’t an idiot. But he didn’t act on it. Not once.

Sometimes, when your loneliness got to the point of being hopeless and painful, when you heard his quiet breaths from the living room -  you tried. You tried to close your eyes and remember the way it felt to be held by him, loved by him. The way his hot breath felt on your skin. His kisses. His ministrations. And even his anger.

All of it caused your body to go rigid, your thoughts to spiral down a dangerous path. Your hand trailed off every time. Casting a slow way down your chest, lingering between your breasts and going further down, until you finally reached the place where the ache was worst. The warmth, the dampness – it was all there. Sometimes you even went further, bringing yourself to the edge of ecstasy. Every time with only him on your mind.

And then you stopped.

Each time. You stopped.

You couldn’t. It felt like betrayal.

Not, because you weren’t allowed to touch yourself. You were pretty sure he didn’t care about that, maybe he’d even enjoy the thought of it. But to you, it felt like betrayal because you didn’t feel like you deserved it.

You didn’t deserve pleasure. That was what you told yourself.

Not, after you hurt him so badly.

And so you kept lingering somewhere in the middle, somewhere stuck between two worlds. The point where your memories met your reality and caused a storm of hopelessness in your mind and body.

You were so lonely. And slowly, it was breaking you.

You tried to keep yourself grounded. You kept thinking back to the life growing inside of you. He kept taking you to the doctor, lightly holding your hand with every ultrasound. But you could barely even focus on the doctor’s words. You used those rare moments to revel in the way he felt, the way it felt to pretend like nothing had changed.

Like he still belonged to you.

The reality was different. Colder. Endless suffering.

And nothing, not even the prospect of whatever was ahead of you, helped.

The soft sound of the door creaking open made you snap out of your thoughts. Your head perked up almost immediately and you caught sight of him, slowly closing the door behind him and tugging on his tie, a weary look in his eyes. He seemed surprised to see you there, his eyes widening for the briefest moment, but he quickly schooled his expression back into the mask of unyielding distance that he had created between you.

That you had created.

“You shouldn’t be up this late.” He immediately averted his gaze and set his briefcase down. After washing his hands and freeing himself from the confinement of his tie and jacket, he returned to the living room. But he still didn’t look at you, not really.

“Why are you still awake?”

“I was waiting for you.” The sound of your own voice nearly made you flinch. It sounded so hollow, so lifeless. Like your constant sorrow was slowly tearing you apart, slowly turning you into the shell of the human you had always meant to be. Maybe your mother had been right all along. Maybe you were simply unlovable.

At the sound of your choked whisper, his head finally did perk up and he looked at you with a small frown. The redness that marked your eyes, the dark circles. The way you hung draped over the couch like every movement hurt. Which it did.

He released a frustrated sigh. “What were you crying about?” After a beat, he added: “Are you trying to upset the baby on purpose?”

His words sent a painful stab through your chest for two reasons. One being, you loved your child. Despite everything. Despite you not knowing if you even truly knew the real meaning of love. You loved it. And you wouldn’t ever want to cause it any harm. And the other reason…that was far more selfish. You couldn’t help but wonder; is that truly the only reason he cares? Does he truly only care about the child now and is that the only reason I’m still here?

“I-“

“You should go to bed. It’s too late for you. Come on.”

“Please, I-“ Your voice cracked and you were sure, you saw the slightest hint of hesitation in his eyes. He didn’t want to be cruel. It was just in his nature. And you, you had provoked this. “I miss you so terribly.”

As quickly as the softness came, as quickly it was gone again and he scoffed. “I’m right here.”

Your lip quivered and you averted your gaze. “That’s not what I mean.”

He let out a long, exhausted sigh and sat down opposite you, his arms crossed defiantly. “What, then? What is there that’s so hard on you, huh? What makes your life so unbearable?”

That made you frown. Where did he get the notion to mock you in this very moment?

“I never said it’s unbearable. I just said, I missed you. And I meant it.”

He rolled his eyes and something inside of you broke again. He was too far gone. Maybe he…Maybe…

“You don’t love me anymore.” Your voice was no more than a horse whisper, and the hitch in your breath gave way to your tears. The quivering of your lip increased and soon, the dam broke. This weren’t hormones. This was your heart breaking.

You didn’t look at him, so you couldn’t have seen how his eyes softened a fraction.

“Stop being an idiot.” He murmured, but his voice was lacking any real malice. “You’re being dramatic.”

“It’s true.” You said quietly, too exhausted to try and act strong any longer. You felt pathetic, you were pathetic and you didn’t care. You were one lonely night away from feeling like you used to. The way you felt whenever your mother locked the door behind you, leaving you small and alone in the darkness. “You haven’t touched me in weeks. You can’t even look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you still love me.”

His lips pressed into a tight line.

God, he was so handsome. All you wanted was to melt into him. You would have rather perished, died by his hand, than to endure another moment without him.

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous. We have one fight and now I don’t love you anymore? Can’t you see how childish that is?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. No. No, you had done enough damage. One stupid accusation had caused all of this, one idiotic question had driven him so far away from you. You couldn’t ask another one.

But you were sure. If you kept it to yourself a second longer, the ground would split up, casting the way to the eternal flames of purgatory and swallow you whole. That was what it felt like. That was how your fear made you feel.

“Did you meet someone else?”

Your voice was barely audible. It was no more than a faint cry, a pained whimper in the night. God, you had never been this afraid before.

What if there was someone?

What if he would never embrace you again?

What if the man who loved you, the man who did all these things for you, was gone? What if not even the evil twin was left?

You would have endured any punishment. The sound of him cutting your hair sounded delightful, all of a sudden. That meant he was reacting. He cared about you. He saw you. He needed you.

And your hair kept falling into your face all the time anyway.

When you looked up to meet his gaze, you didn’t see the quiet fury you had expected. He didn’t seem angry at all, just…

Confused.

His brows furrowed in a frown. “What?”

“If you did”, you choked out somehow, “I’ll accept it. I’ll find a way to live with it or no – well, it might kill me alright, but that’s fine. I’ll find a way. But I need to know. Please, I need to know. Just let me know, okay? Please, don’t lie to me. Please don’t withdraw, please-“

Your quiet despair quickly turned into something else entirely. Something cold and raw, something that was clawing at your sanity and you didn’t care. A dark force took your mind hostage and suddenly you realized, you were dying.

“I’m sorry.” You cried out, unable to lift your gaze. “I’m sorry for saying that, I’m sorry for ever doubting you, I’m so, so sorry for what I said that day. I know you would never harm me nor the child, I know. I don’t know why I did. I don’t know why I-“

Your breaths came quick, too quick to be properly controlled. You just existed. Melted. Burst.

“You think I met someone? You think I’m fucking someone else?” His voice was low and controlled, with a darkness lingering behind. A darkness only you could see.

“Please don’t be angry with me.” You kept muttering out in your despair, clutching at the cushions. You wanted nothing more than to be able to hold him, have him steady you, but you were afraid. Too afraid of his rejection.

If he’d reject you then, you’d die. You’d simply die.

Would at least death be gentle?

“I’m sorry I asked. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please…If you’ll punish me, punish me. I don’t care what you do, I don’t care how much of my hair you cut off. I don’t care how you much you hurt me, okay?! I’m your Hana. I’ll be your Hana for the rest of my life, I’ll be your girl. I’ll be your-“

His grip was sudden, unexpected and firm. And yet you recognized it.

The gentleness.

You inhaled sharply when you felt his hands gently circle your wrists. He turned them in his hands, slowly running his thumbs over the insides.

“Look at me.”

You couldn’t. You were shaking. Too afraid, too…lost.

He used one hand to gently tilt your chin up, giving you no other option than to look at him.

His eyes were serious, so serious, you hadn’t seen him like that in a while. But the cold. The cold was gone.

Not a little, not briefly. Entirely.

Before you knew, he had you wrapped up in his embrace. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, into his warmth, his scent, his life.

You let out a startled breath, a quiet sob soaking into his shirt.

And then you broke.

You clung to him like a child, your grip tight and unyielding. It was as though you were trying to melt you into one person and he let you. He let you. He didn’t pull away, didn’t push you and he made no cruel remarks.

He simply held you. Tighter and tighter, until it was bordering on painful.

His hand came up to cradle the back of your head, while the other one ran soothing circles over your back.

“I’m so sorry.” You cried out.

He sighed deeply. “No, darling, no. I’m sorry.”

You froze and pulled your head back, just enough to be able to see his face. “What?”

He nodded, his expression solemn. “I shouldn’t have allowed your words to get to me like that. Deep inside, I knew you didn’t mean it. I should have been there for you. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t.”

“Does that mean-“

“There is no one else.” He said calmly. “I spent the time questioning your little detective. I never…I would never…” He sighed again. “There’s only you for me. Get that in your silly, little head.”

Your lip twitched. It was almost a smile. Almost.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t ever have thought that.”

He leaned back, keeping a firm grip on your shoulders as a lazy smile stretched over his lips. “I had no idea you could get so jealous. That’s…interesting.”

You shot him a dark look. But before you had the time to make another comment, you felt his lips press against your own. You didn’t even manage to close your eyes at first. No. You needed to make sure he was really there. Was it really him? Was this real?

Eventually your eyes did flutter shut, first one, then the other.

And your lips parted to let him in.

The kiss tasted like tears and relief.

The will to live flooded your veins in a way you had felt not often before. His kiss was deep. Bruising. Not gentle, not patient.

And you didn’t mind. No. You needed him. Needed him desperately.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, already half on your way to straddle his lap.

“Wait, wait, wait.” A dark laugh rumbled in his chest as he kept you firmly in place. You whimpered and looked at him with the most pleading look.

“What?”

He leaned back and regarded you with a long, soft look.

“You’re not Hana.” He murmured suddenly. “That’s not your name. And I don’t want that name to come over your lips again.”

Your brows shot up and you froze. “But I just-“

“I know why you said it.” He said calmly. “I understand it. But it doesn’t change anything. It’s just…not your name.”

A shiver ran down your spine, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin.

Did he really say that?

Did he…acknowledge it?

Was it in the past? Was the pain in the past? The uncertainty?

Or was this just a passing flicker of hope, that he might crush the next time you said something he didn’t agree with?

You had no time think about it, because he already had you on you his lap, his tongue parting your lips with the same fervor you felt.

It didn’t matter anyway.

He loved you three times that night.

___________________________________

Tag list 1:

@mitsuki-dreamfree @kpopsmutty69 @heroine-chique @vkeyy @mizuwki @blu-brrys @z0mbi345 @yourpointbreak @ayieayee @freddyzeppsworld @lola11111111 @indifitel6661 @salesmanlover08 @laurenbenoit70 @lalalaa2210 @lila-marshal @auspicious-lilana @0-aubrie0 @lovelyaegyo @theredvelvetbitch @violentbluess @muriels-lover @dorayakissu @eviebuggg @muchwita @ririgy @strxlemon @obsessedwthdilfs @kiwilov3 @misty-q

Author's note: I know I said I wouldn't upload anything, but I guess this was a way of venting my own frustrations somehow. I'm not sure if it helped - I hope you'll like anyway. Thank you all for your sweet and kind words. You make me feel really seen and less lonely. I love you, guys.🤍

Ps. Sorry for the drama. But I'd totally die for that man, if I was her. Am I insane? Probably. But that doesn't change a thing for me.

[corkinavoid]

For @astermagnolia, to 'Navigating' by Twenty One Pilots,

DPxDC Everybody Leaves

Damian always knew he was there.

From the very moment his eyes dimmed and his body went limp under Damian's hands, he knew that, in reality, he never went anywhere. He stayed, always in the corner of his eye, on the tip of his fingertips, on the brink of his dreams, looking back at him through the reflection in the mirror.

Always just out of reach.

And yet, when Damian missteps, when a bright blast of a laser is only inches away from his chest, when his eyes widen and he knows he won't make it out this time, he is still genuinely surprised to suddenly find another person in between him and his death.

The blast hits Danyal square in the chest, but the boy doesn't sway in the slightest. Damian would have been impressed; he would, really, if he didn't know his brother was dead. If the sight of him, standing in front of Damian, didn't cause his mind to come to a whirring stop.

"You can't take him," Danyal speaks, or maybe growls, the words coming from somewhere deep in his chest, "He can't leave."

And there's something off in his voice - not in the low, menacing way he speaks but in the frenzied panic that's seeping through every word. Damian, against his better judgment, reaches forward, trying to touch his brother's shoulder, but even before he does, the boy snaps his head to him.

And, oh, Damian sees what's wrong.

His brother's eyes are wide, toxic green and glowing, and full of fear, the one you see in a cornered animal. When one wrong move can turn all that scared, anxious tension into a sharp, angry lunge full of fury.

"You can't leave," Danyal repeats quieter this time, but his whisper is almost pleading, "Everyone leaves, I know they do, but not you, you can't-" and then, the frantic mess of words is cut off like someone flipped a switch, and Danyal's face smoothes out in less than a moment.

The cold, calculated ice fills his eyes, and the boy straightens up. His hair, dark like Damian's own, somehow glitches like a bad video recording, going between black and white but settling on white after a moment.

"I won't let you," he says, and there's no more fear or pleading in his voice. Instead, it's calm and eerie, offhanded even, like the boy is merely stating a fact.

Damian blinks, the words stuck in his throat.

He has a whole family of vigilantes around him, he grew up in the League, he is a part of a superhero team. He knows there are people who would throw themselves in danger for the sake of his life without a second thought, and he knows he would do the same, even if he is never going to admit to it out loud.

But not a single one of them ever made it feel like a promise, an unbreakable vow.

Danyal turns away from him, facing the battlefield.

He takes a deep breath.

And screams.

~•~•~•~

Okay, so the idea was that Danny (reincarnated or just dropped off in the DC universe somehow to become Damian's twin) had died at the hands of Damian long ago, but never left his side even in death. I was coming from the Ultimate Enemy bad ending, which means Danny is literally slipping into insanity over losing his loved ones.

Hence, Danny going into a feral protective rage over Damian because he is a traumatized, two times dead boy who just wants his family to stay with him.

And now I'm tryin' to hold onto you 'cause everybody leaves — ['Navigating' lyrics]

P.S. I really wanted to include the line 'pardon my delay' into this, but it didn't quite work with the way I was heading

[visenyaism]

Dany advisor tier list?

Just for you I made you a rubric. I did not include “could reasonably be called a good advisor” because I think many of them would disqualify. Poor kid.

Here is my ranking based on said points.

12. Viserys- 3. Despite my best efforts to rig this shit, Viserys ends up last. I remembered the reason why Dany is attached to Jorah at all isnt because he is reliable or a good advisor but because he is only slightly more reliable and less of an active threat than Viserys at the time.

11. Warlocks of the House of the Undying- 3.5 if you count prophetic dreams as good advice.

10. Jorah- 4. Fun fact when I was reading dance for the first time and he showed back up again and was reintroduced hiring a sex worker who looks just like Dany I had to put the book down and go for an hourlong calm down walk up a mountain before I continued because I got too mad.

9. Hizdahr- 4. He understands how Mereen works and is pretty honest about it to Daenerys at the cost of. you know. trying to use her as a pawn the whole time and not caring if she lives or dies. Also maybe tried to poison her.

8. Green Grace- 5-6, depending on if she is the harpy or not. Even if she isn’t she has a clear vendetta against her and is actively trying to manipulate her.

7. Mirri Maaz Dur- 5. She did teach Dany some lessons worth remembering but made sure that those lessons would be traumatic enough that Daenerys would do the exact opposite of it forever and maybe engineer her own downfall as a result, which I guess does accomplish Mirri’s goal. Highest ranking of the people who have actively tried to kill her.

6. Irri and Jhiqui- 6. Why are they still interchangeable after 5 books. Can they get some character arcs. Please. Rank lower because they don’t give her much advice.

5. Rahkaro and the Bloodriders- 6. They don’t seem to give her much advice, but they don’t seem to get much screen time anyway. Again can the dothraki characters not have any depth is that not allowed.

6. The Shavepate- 6.5. may have tried to poison her, jury is still out. If he was in anyone else’s arc, you would be like wow he’s a terrible advisor, but this is a competitive category for Daenerys, so middle of the pack.

5. Daario- 6.5. Daenerys has questionable taste in men because she is fifteen and been through a lot so she thinks this is all her choice and very exciting. But someday when she is older, she is going to look back on this and realize that someone should’ve intervened.

4. Quaithe-7 pending more data on who she is and what she wants. What is your deal girl.

3. Barristan- 7. Half points for “not being a pedophile” and “understands westerosi geopolitics” those are dubious. He is knightpilled and societybrained to the point of near-delusion and the fact that he ranks so high speaks less to his qualifications and more to the fact that this poor girl has had some really terrible advisors.

2. Missandei- 8. but again she is eleven.

1. Grey Worm- 9. Thanks mister worm. Unfortunately Jacob Anderson was still wasted on your role in the show.

[yamujiburo]

Got a few asks about what Pokemon I think Jessie and James would have if 1. they didn't just have the gacha machine and only caught Galarian Pokemon and 2. if they had the chance to go to Paldea

GALAR

Jessie: Sandaconda, Snom➡️Frosmoth, Impidimp➡️Morgrem

Sandaconda is a snake Pokemon. Jessie should be allowed to have all snake Pokemon. Period. Love the idea of her finding it and being unsure of what the hell she's looking at because it's all coiled up but upon it briefly uncoiling she falls in love.

Jessie should have had an Ice Type Pokemon at some point for real. Snow and ice play two big roles in her backstory (eating snow/growing up in a snowy location and her mother disappearing in an avalanche). Her having a lil Snom that's not particularly useful but that she grows to love would be so CUTE. They eat snow together!! Then I love the idea of her going from not thinking much of it to getting more and more attached to it over the series and then having it evolve to Frosmoth after some time (it'd remind her of her old friend Dustox)

Okay this one's gonna take a little explaining but I think it'd be so funny if at the same time, Jessie catches a Hatenna and James catches an Impidimp (mostly because Jessie wants the cute one). BUT Impidimp starts gravitating to Jessie because of her negative energy, which it feeds off of. She's much easier to prank and irritate than James, who's too much of a sweetheart and a little less susceptible to pranks. Jessie never finds out that Impidimp is the one pranking her but notices that it's taken a liking to her for some reason so she and James end up trading their Hattena and Impidimp with each other. It later evolves into Moregrem

James: Polteageist, Toxel, Hatenna➡️Hattrem

I think James is a tea lover, and enjoyed fancy teas when he was a child. Since he's a collector of bottlecaps and Pokeballs, I could see him also collecting teapots/teacups. Maybe they're in a haunted mansion one day and he grabs a teapot thinking it's a rare find but it's actually a Pokemon to his surprise. Also I think he deserves to have an Antique form, so it IS a rare find.

James having another baby Pokemon to fawn over like Mime Jr. would be so cute. It's an egg that the trio find but Jessie's too lazy to take care of it and Meowth's traumatized after the Togepi situation, not wanting to go through all that again. Toxel is born and it's James' everything. It's a bit bratty and constantly vying for his attention, usually by shocking and poisoning him but luckily James has built up an immunity to both those things thanks to Pikachu and Mareanie.

As stated before, James catches Impidimp initially but trades it for Jessie's Hatenna. Hatenna was NOT okay with the amount of emotions Jessie brought to the table and couldn't stand to be around her, often going to James who's much calmer between the two of them. Annoyed by it not liking her and finding that Impidimp DID like her, Jessie demands suggests a trade, which James is okay with as he's been growing attached to Hatenna. After it evolves into Hattrem, it starts (affectionately) smacking him whenever he shows too much emotion, carrying on the "James' Pokemon beat the shit out of him" legacy.

PALDEA

Jessie: Flittle➡️Espathra

Flittle just seems fitting for Jessie. She's always wanting a cute little baby Pokemon but funnily enough, never really gets one in the show. She absolutely pampers it and dresses it up. It eventually evolves into Espathra. Still being Jessie's mini-me, it often mimics her, particularly when Jessie's angry

James: Arboliva

Arboliva just feels like a Pokemon James would have LMAO. I think it'd be really sweet if after a particularly bad blast off, Arboliva finds Team Rocket and helps nurse them back to health even though they're mostly okay. They're grateful to it, James captures it and it continues to try mother all of them (in a less aggressive way than Bewear).

Shared: Scovillain

Listen. It'd be SO funny if Jessie and James shared a Pokemon. They see two Pokemon in the tall grass one day. A Pokemon with a red head and a Pokemon with a green head. Only having one Pokemon each at this time, they decide it's a good idea to catch another each. They throw their Pokeballs at the same time and the catch is successful! Just one problem. They find out the two Pokemon they tried to catch was actually just one Pokemon and they don't know which of the Pokeballs they threw was the one that actually caught it. They argue about it for quite a while but then agree to share custody. Leads to some funny scenarios where they're both trying to direct it in a battle. The red head prefers Jessie and the green head prefers James.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [16]

Danny has been with the Wayne’s for a while now and his status as a halfa is starting to affect some things he comes in contact with a little bit.

At first he thought this only happened back in his old home in Amity Park because the ectoplasm samples were kept in the fridge, and though that does speed up the process, it turns out Danny causes the same things to happen just fine on his own. It just takes a lot longer.

This means he now occasionally has to replace or decontaminate some of his things every once in a while. and with the electronics the same applies but usually the protections that Tucker has made do the trick too.

Danny has been very careful, he never borrows anything that’s highly susceptible to ecto-contamination from the others and whenever he needs something from the kitchen he just goes to Alfred (he really doesn’t want to see how the old man might react to the coffee machine starting to act weird because of Danny). Just, the last thing Danny wants to do is inconvenience the Wayne’s by ecto-contaminating something of theirs.

It’s really only when Danny slips back into vigilante-ism that things go sideways.

And Danny really tried. His obsession is space, not heroism, so he figured he’d be fine just focussing on his education. But he kinda forgot about the fact that he just really really loves being a hero.

He loves the thrill, the danger. He loves giving a smackdown and just in general having a good fight, he loves helping people, he loves being a force of good. And yeah, he kinda also likes the praise, but nothing weird and overbearing (some people go way too far in their hero worship, but that’s a story for another day)

So after some back and forth and arguments with Bruce who, contrary to popular belief, was absolutely not thrilled that his latest traumatized kid who was being kept safe in the mansion so far now decided that no, he wants to be part of the family business too please.

Danny eventually threatens to just go out anyway without any of his help and that just gives Bruce flashbacks to the time when he had just taken Dick as his ward. Not to mention some of his other kids and… dammit.

Well then… Danny can go explain things to Jason himself once he finds out and is probably going to be mad about it, Bruce is not taking the blame this time.

So Danny (name pending, he could just go with Phantom again, but he also wouldn’t mind using something bird or bat related) gets back into the game once again! And that’s fine that’s cool. But back to the original point.

Danny figured that he would just do what he’s been doing so far with any bat gadgets as well, and maybe it would be even less of a problem cause he’s pretty sure that these things break a lot more often because of all the fights and stuff.

What Danny had not really thought about though is potential intense high emotion situations. Like for very specific example; Scarecrow taking an obsessive interest in him because of Danny’s ghostly ability to feed on fear (somewhat) and the situation getting out of hand, him getting very hurt, Batman having to carry him out of there while Danny was kinda bleeding a bit (a lot). Bruce being worried and Danny wanting to be anywhere but there anymore and-

Well, you get the point.

So, take all that and add high tech bat armor and what you get is suddenly sentient batsuit.

It actually took a bit for anyone to catch on that something was going on, but it was eventually figured out. and once that was the case Danny couldn’t really help his seemingly endless stream of apologies.

But how can anyone ever blame him for bleeding out on Bruce and the weird reanimative properties of said blood making it so Bruce’s suit can now “talk”

Bruce described it more as like a martian mind link, which would explain why only he could hear things. it’s probably only for the wearer.

It can’t move on it’s own, it needs someone to wear it. But it can sense things and react for the wearer and honestly all that alone is more than enough reason to find a way to exorcise it… if not for the whole,

“but if it’s a sentient ecto entity now we can’t just ‘kill’ it, we literally abolished the anti ecto acts just so that can’t be done anymore”

it’s probably a good thing the suit has grabbed all the ‘Batman’ and made that what it is. All the core values are there, so there isn’t going to be any risk of it killing someone at least.

Still though… what to do now?

[gay-disabled-characters-showdown]

LGBTQ Disabled Characters Showdown Quarterfinals Poll 1

Vs.

Please be civil in the notes. We will block people if we feel it is necessary. A character being canon LGBTQ+ and disabled was not required to be in this competition. Please check qualifications and propaganda before asking why a character is included. This is not a competition of who is better representation.

Check out the other polls in the quarterfinals here.

Edit: This is a two vs. one because they tied (by our defenition) back in round 4 and moved on together.

Harrier ‘Harry’ du Bois-Disco Elysium

Qualifications:

Bisexual. Struggles with addiction, post-polio syndrome, multiple kinds of mental illness, and whatever else he's accrued by living in a city with no accessible healthcare.

Propaganda:

You know who he is. Vote for him.

Kim Kitsuragi-Disco Elysium

Qualifications:

Visually impaired

Propaganda:

I dunno man. He's Kim Kitsuragi. There's nothing I can say about him that hasn't already been said. He's quiet and reserved and uncomfortable with emotions. He's a self-proclaimed Torque Dork who loves his car like a child. He listens to heavy metal music. He's a centrist. He's a homosexual. He's consistently given shit by everyone around him for his race, his sexuality, and his disability, and he's taught himself to respond to it with cold professionalism. He dresses in historical communist pilot cosplay. I love him with my entire heart.

Yang Xiao Long-RWBY

Qualifications:

She is canonically wlw (has been for years but specifically kissed and got together with her now girlfriend in the latest season) and uses a prosthetic arm and has been shown to struggle with PTSD due to the traumatic nature of losing it during the show.

Canonically had her right arm chopped off, uses a prosthetic. Has PTSD. Is canonically in a WLW relationship.

She has a canon girlfriend and canonically has a prosthetic arm and PTSD

She's canonically sapphic (part of a recently canonised wlw slowburn relationship) and is an amputee (due to events from the 3rd season finale) who wears a robotic prosthetic. She also suffers from PTSD which is explored in the show

Propaganda:

I will keep on submitting Yang to relevant brackets until I die. RWBY has plenty of strengths and weaknesses with writing, especially Yang's recovery arc, but instead of forcing her to push past her trauma and enter the battlefield immediately, we see her struggle with it, take time to process, and not be pushed into repression and when she chooses to wear her prosthetic, chooses to train to ready herself, and chooses to seek out her family and save lives, she isn't perfectly healed, as no one is. The show depicts her having flashbacks due to sudden loud noise, shaking hand the first few times she has to fight for her safety instead of training with her dad, and snapping at friends when they bring up Blake, the person she lost her arm trying to save (who, near immediately after ran away due to feeling she was endangering those she loved, furthering Yang's already present abandonment issues.) It isn't done perfectly but the intentions and general message sent are extremely positive and honest. She struggles less as the show progresses, and there are opportunities to consider herself less for being disabled or "become whole again" but she explicitly refutes these ideas and says that's she's better because of her failures and losses, and isn't any less whole. Her becoming disabled is also extremely tied to her being LGBT, because, as previously mentioned, she lost her arm protecting her then friend and partner, now girlfriend, directly after the villain who cut her arm off told her love interest that he would "destroy everything [she] love[s]. (Camera pans to Yang, he looks at her.) Starting with her." LIKE. He attacked her BECAUSE Blake cared for her so much and Yang ran to her defense blindly BECAUSE she loved Blake so much. When they reunite, they struggle with communication because Yang feels Blake is seeing her as weak, and through several things, mostly a climatic battle against the man who severed Yang's arm, they affirm each other as equals. I can go on but this is already too long. YANG SWEEP!!!!!

Yang lost her arm while protecting her best friend and future girlfriend from said girlfriend's abusive ex. Had a whole arc about learning to live with that loss and dealing with PTSD. Is totally devoted to and in love with Blake Belladonna and is just the sweetest but most badass character in the show.

She's one of the main characters, and just finished a 10 year slow burn romance. Plus, she has both physical and mental disabilities, but is never treated as lesser or incomplete.

Yang Xiao Long was one of the first examples of a sapphic character I ever saw in animated media with her character journey in the show being an iconic part of my teenage years and current young adulthood. The loss of her arm after a traumatic event in the show's 3rd volume was one of the big shockers of the show that nobody saw coming. Since then the show has done an amazing job in exploring both the mental and physical effects of her losing a limb, gaining a prosthetic arm and the recovery journey. Her character also has a major arc regarding handling her PTSD from both this and her past most notably in the 5th and 6th volume. Her character also has a slow-burn romance with her teammate and fellow main character Blake Belladonna which is one of my fave romances ever (it has everything: canon soulmates, friends to lovers, sunshine x grump,battle couple etc..) that has recently became CANON BABIEE!!! There are MULTIPLE characters in RWBY with various disabilities that are handled well in the narrative but i would say Yangs definitely the top FAVE!

[demonpiratehuntress]

period madness (Straw Hats + Ace, Law, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader

summary - it's that time of the month and they have...interesting...ways of dealing with it

warnings - none

a/n - I've done this with the live action Straw Hats so i wanted to do this with their anime versions too, plus the ones who aren't in the LA yet

ZORO

Zoro jerked awake to the sound of pots crashing and clanging in the kitchen. He was unaccustomed to that, because Sanji never let anyone in the kitchen but himself. That and the aggressive sounds were usually only caused by him and then cook during their arguments. So when he got up to investigate, he was not prepared for the sight before him.

You were throwing pots and pans at the cook, who was barely able to dodge your pinpoint accuracy. He was holding his hands up and shaking them, saying, "No, no, no darling!" or slipping into panicked French.

The swordsman found it difficult to hold back his laughter and ended up chortling, catching yours and the cook's attention.

"What are YOU laughing at?" You glared daggers at him, chucking one of the pots at him. It hit him smack in the head, and he glared at you before seeing the look on your face.

He had never been more terrified.

"You're both idiots," you grumbled, rubbing your uterus before storming out of the kitchen. Sanji sighed in relief, before you called out behind you, "I want another one!" He jumped and ran around the kitchen, desperately making something - whatever you'd asked for.

"What's wrong with her?" Zoro gruffly asked the cook.

"She's on her period," Nami walked past, beaming and looking unusually happy.

Zoro vaguely knew what a period was. He didn't quite know how it worked, but he knew that women became oddly aggressive and emotional during their week. He didn't know about the blood, though, until he walked into your room after you and saw red staining your clothes.

"What happened?!"

You jumped and turned around, "Zoro! Don't do that!" Then you groaned, doubling over in pain.

Over the next couple of days, the swordsman learned just what a period entailed. Very drastic, rapid mood changes, intense cravings and debilitating pain. He once claimed you were being dramatic, but that was the last time. He shivered at the memory.

He became more helpful once he fully understood what was going on with you. Threatening Sanji to make whatever you were craving for, bringing it to you, rubbing your uterus. That he could handle. Your mood swings, alas, were his undoing.

"I'm tired. Can I nap now?"

"No one asked you to do my chores," you grumbled.

He glared at you, "A thank you would be nice."

"Mhm."

He grumbled and crossed his arms, muttering something about your attitude.

"What?" Your nostrils flared.

That dangerous look on your face came again, and Zoro froze up.

"Nothing."

"Better be. Remember what happened yesterday?"

He flinched. The swordsman flinched. He didn't want to be reminded of your wrath, much less experience it again. It had been traumatic enough the first time.

Thankfully, you were much more docile when he was cuddling you after you had changed and gotten comfortable.

ACE

You weren't at breakfast one morning. Which was odd, because you were usually always there before him, saving him a spot because he was the one sleeping in.

"Where's (Name)?" He asked the other crewmembers, all of them shrugging because no one actually knew.

This was his sign to check your room. If you hadn't come to greet him and he hadn't seen you all morning, you were most likely still sleeping. Which almost never happened, since you liked to get up early and get a jumpstart on your chores around the ship.

He carefully pushed open the door to your room, and there you were. Curled up in your bed, whimpering and moaning in what sounded like pain. Immediately he grew worried, and rushed over to you.

"What's wrong??" He crouched beside the bed, trying to get you to look at him.

"Cramps," was all that you could say before another bout of pain hit you and had you changing positions. Nothing was comfortable, and you'd tried everything. "Hurts."

He frowned, but knew exactly what to do. Sure, maybe he'd forgotten that you started your period today, but he'd had enough experience with it to know what to do. He climbed onto the bed nd laid behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you. Heating his body just enough to soothe you, his hand settled over your uterus and started rubbing in comforting, slow circles. When he felt your body slowly relax, he knew it was working.

"Mhm," you hummed, sighing in relief, "Much better. Thanks, Ace."

"Anything for you," he grinned, burying his face in your neck. He continued rubbing slowly and soothingly, also enioying the closeness and intimacy that this brought. "I'll get you some chocolate later, okay?"

You managed a small laugh, "You know Thatch is not going to let you into the kitchen. You're practically banned."

"I stole ONE cake, one!" He protested. "And it wasn't even a big one!"

You laughed again, shaking your head in amused dismay, "You know you stole more than that. He knows you sneak in almost every night."

"Is that why the fridge is now locked?"

"Mhmmm," you turned your head slightly, "But it's a sweet offer."

"No, I will get you that chocolate," he insisted, making you laugh. "I will fight Thatch if I have to."

"Or," you started to suggest, "We could stop at the island that's coming up and buy our own?"

"Nah, too late," he nuzzled his face against your neck, "I went to get it for you now."

"You're too sweet to me," you sighed contently, your entire body melting under his touch, the pain dulling to a bearable ache. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"You love me," he murmured into your neck. "That's enough."

When you were sleeping, the second division commander gently disentangled himself from you and snuck off to get your chocolate. The next day, you woke up to the sweet treat on your bedside table, and a note saying that both Thatch and Ace were in the infirmary. Sighing, you got up to go see your idiot boyfriend, but a smile on your face told you that you weren't mad at him.

You could never be. He handled your mood swings like a pro, never once losing his temper. He got you whatever you craved, no complaints. And when you were in pain, he was more than happy to become your personal heater.

Every single period, he treated you with the utmost gentleness, and a patience that no one knew he had.

SANJI

Your cravings are almost impossible to deal with. If he wasn't such a great cook, Sanji might have cracked under the pressure. Every hour was something new, something strange. But whatever you want, you get.

You stumbled into the kitchen a few hours later, wondering where your food was. Only to see your boyfriend trying to fend off your captain who was trying to steal it.

"Give it to him," you grumbled, "I'll just make it myself."

Sanji's eyes widened in panic as he watched you move around the kitchen, starting to prepare the dish. He finally kicked Luffy away and rushed towards.you, dropping onto his knees before you and holding up the dish.

"No, no, no, my love! Here you go!"

You crossed your arms, "Do you think I am incapable of making my own meal?"

"No, not at all!" He shook his head frantically, his panic rising. "I just don't want you to do any unnecessary work while.you're in so much, when I am here to do it for you!"

On any other day, you might have melted and kissed him on the cheek. Today, however, that comment just pissed you off.

"So you think I'm too weak to handle a bit of pain?"

The cook was going to pass out at this rate, "No, no, no! I just don't want-"

"Because I'm a woman, is that it?"

His face kept getting paler and paler, "My love-"

"No, forget it," your mood flipped, tears brimming in your eyes. "I'm not hungry anymore." You turned on your heel and left the kitchen, and Sanji's heart sunk.

If he hated anything more than you crying, it was you crying because of him.

He got to work preparing several of your favourite dishes, mentally cursing the captain for this whole debacle. It didn't take him long, because he was also desperate and panicky, his urge to comfort you growing stronger by the second. The minute he was done he was walking to your room with all the dishes in a tray, and knocking on your door.

"Go away."

"But darling, I have your food-"

The door swung open, and once again your mood had switched and you were smiling at him like nothing had happened. You let him in, peppering his face with kisses as you immediately started to eat, leaving him with hearts in his eyes.

But also a little terrified.

After you had finished eating, he cuddled you and let you fall asleep on him. He was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing again so he just held you, letting you guide his hand to rub your uterus soothingly.

He was a little panicky, but he always took care of you during this frustrating week.

LUFFY

He's practically immune to your emotional outbursts. He does get them from everyone on the crew almost everyday, after all. So the mood swings he can handle, he just laughs it off and hugs you or cuddles you or offers to give you extra kisses.

It's the cravings part that he has an issue with.

Luffy and food go hand-in-hand, everyone knows this. If he even so much as spots something to eat, he will gobble it down within seconds. That's why Sanji has a lock on the fridge and chains on all the cabinets, because your boyfriend cannot stop himself from eating the ship's entire food supply.

And more often than not, he will end up fighting with you about it whenever you're on your period, because he thinks it's unfair that you get more food.

"Luffy, stop bothering (Name)!" Sanji smacked his hand away from your food.

The captain pouted, "Why does she get more food?"

You glared at your clueless boyfriend, the temptation to smack him growing stronger by the second, "Luffy, you try ble-" The rest of your explanation was muffled by Nami's hand.

Luffy pouted even more as he watched you eat, confused about why you were looking at him like you wanted to eat him.

When you were done, you got up and walked away without even asking him to come with you. This was even more weird for him, and so he followed you on his own.

"(Name), what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just tired," you replied, but he knew you so well that he could tell you were lying as you sat down on your bed.

"Did I do something?" He came to sit down beside you.

You sighed, "Yes and no. Do I look fat to you?"

His eyes widened, "No, why would you say that? Who called you fat?"

"Me."

He frowned at your words, "Why would you call yourself fat?"

"Because you're always complaining about me eating more on my period and it makes me feel like I am!" You snapped, teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

"I'm sorry," he apologised quietly, sincerely. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that."

"I know, but Luffy..." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose, "You have to understand. Women go through a lot on their period, okay? We eat more, we cry more, we snap more, everything we do is increased. So is our pain. It's just something that happens every month."

"You're in pain?" He asked worriedly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

I've told you many, many times, you refrained from saying, instead sighing, "Just...please be a bit more mindful, okay?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around you, "I promise."

He really did try. The next day he even sat you on his lap just to hold you while you ate, and even though it looked like it was difficult for him, he stopped himself from commenting. He even started bringing you food, doing anything he could to be better and actually help you through your torturous week.

KAKU

He's not stupid. He's been around you and Khalifa long enough to know what to do and what not to and what to say and what not to say during your period.

Though he sometimes has his moments, where he forgets that you're in pain because you're so good at hiding it due to the nature of your job.

You were a day or two into your period so your cramps were really bad. But Spandam was annoying you about an assignment so you ended up snapping at him and accidentally broke his nose. Now you were suspended until further notice - although no one reprimanded you for punching him.

That's how Kaku found you, seething as you stormed through the hallways of the headquarters. He himself got a little nervous when he saw your furious look. Trained assassin or not, when you looked like that he would never dream of crossing you.

Of course, he did it unintentionally.

"What happened to you?" He asked, stopping you from storming past him.

"What do you think?" You snapped, your cramps becoming unbearably painful. You needed to get out of this interaction as quickly as possible.

"Hey, easy," he took a cautious step closer, "I'm not trying to fight."

You signed, "I know." Then you started walking away, only for him to follow you. "Kaku, not right now." Your voice came out strained, and this worried him.

"Something is wrong," he insisted.

"Wow, thanks, Captain Obvious," you rolled your eyes.

He sighed, "I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"That's the problem!" You whirled around, "You never know what's wrong! This happens every month and you always seem to forget!"

You would later regret snapping at him like that, but your uterus was in the process of killing you so you were more than uncomfortable, and more than miserable.

A look of realisation dawned on him, and he lifted you up into his arms to carry you bridal-style to your room. Once he laid you down on the bed, he had water ready for you to drink and he lay beside you, pulling you close and enveloping you in his warmth as he soothingly rubbed where it hurt. Over the course of the last few months, he'd gotten better at helping you through the pain.

"Thanks," you mumbled, curling up against him. "I punched Spandam, by the way. Got suspended."

He laughed, "That must have been amusing."

"Mhm..."

Before you could word a proper reply, you were drifting off. This was comfortable, and his warm hand rubbing your uterus soothingly was lulling you off to sleep. He smiled softly and continued to hold you and attempt to soothe your pain as best he could.

You woke up later to find your favourite food and drink on your bedside table, and a note saying Spandam had given Kaku your assignment, which made you laugh.

LAW

Law saw the signs before you even noticed you were exhibiting them. He was a doctor, after all, but he was also your boyfriend and had memorised each symptom that you showed before getting your period. So he knew exactly when you were getting it, but he wasn't exactly the best at helping you through it.

Especially with how angry and emotional you got. He struggled to predict your mood, and in this struggle he found that he didn't know how to properly respond to or act around you. Which led to 97% of your arguments during this time. The other 3% was you picking fights.

"(Name)-ya, you're late," he frowned when you walked into his room after breakfast.

You glared at him, "Oh I'm sorry, I was too busy dying in my bed!"

"Don't be dramatic," he sighed. "You weren't dying."

Your nostrils flared, "Excuse me?"

The look in your eyes was downright murderous. For a scary moment even he was a bit intimidated, but hes stubbornly stood his ground.

"Maybe this month the cramps are worse," you shot back, voice raising with each word. "But you wouldn't understand, you never do!" You turned and stormed out.

"You manage every other month."

He sighed, following, "(Name)-ya, wait."

"No Law," you snarled, "I'm not in the mood. Go away."

He grabbed your wrist, though not enough to hurt you, "I'm sorry."

You rolled your eyes, even more irritated by his lackluster apology, "Okay. Now can I go do my chores?"

He let go a bit awkwardly, frowning, "I can have someone do them for you."

"No, I wouldn't want to be lazy or look like I'm getting favours because I'm your girlfriend," you crossed your arms.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated, "You are in pain, no one is going to hold it against you. Can you please just go back to bed?"

"Is that an order?" You glared at him.

He glared back, "Yes."

You finally relented, storming off to your room and making a show of being irritated. Law sighed behind you, following and making sure you did actually get into bed. Then he made sure you got something hot to press against your uterus, as well as plenty of snacks and drinks to keep you satisfied.

He did come at random points during the day to check on you, which you thought was sweet. He would stand by your side awkwardly and fumble his words, but it was the thought that counted.

And over the next few days, he got better at helping you through it. He let you do your tasks but was a lot more lenient, he accepted your affection even in public, and he was a lot softer than he would usually be. Anything you asked for, you got it - eventually. It might not be right away, but he did get it for you and that was what mattered to you.

But oh, the mood swings were going to be the death of him.

USOPP

Your period week scared Usopp. He made sure he memorised your cycle so that he knew when you would be a bit more...sensitive, to his words and actions. So he knew when the time came, what he shouldn't say or do around you.

The problem was that he tended to avoid you, hoping that would keep him safe from your mood swings and your violent tendencies. After last time, he was traumatised.

"(Name)?" He knocked on your room door, after hearing from Nami that you weren't up yet and it was late morning already.

"Don't come in!" You wailed, sounding miserable.

He poked his head around the door, curious as to why you didn't want him to come inside. You were rushing around the room in your underwear, making his face turn red. He tried to pull his head out, but knocked it on the door and yelped.

You whipped around, "Usopp!"

But to his surprise, you started crying instead of screaming at him. You sunk onto your bed, dropping your sheets miserably. He quickly came inside, closed the door, and sat beside you.

"What's wrong???" He asked, a bit panicky.

"There's blood everywhere!" You sobbed, "My pants got ruined, my sheets.got ruined, everything got ruined!"

"Oh..." He felt a but flustered, unsure of what to do.

"I know!" You cried, "You probably think it's disgusting." The thought had you sobbing harder, and he panicked even more when you reacted this way.

"No, no, no!" He shook his hands frantically, "You're not disgusting! Never!"

Eventually it dawned on him that he should probably get your things cleaned for you, and when he suggested it he saw you visibly relax and knew it was the right choice.

"Are you sure?" You mumbled, bottom lip trembling.

"I'm sure," he nodded, picking up your things. "Just relax, I'll go get you some (favourite food), and be back just now."

He did just that, ensuring you got into comfortable, warm clothes and then bringing you warm food and warm drinks any time you asked him to. You laid on your bed and asked him to tell you stories, which often succeeded in making you laugh.

He was more than happy to oblige.

[nuzipilled]

THE GANGS ALL HERE 🗣️🔥‼️ information below the cut, “B” cast ( Doll, Lizzy, Thad) have not been included yet as they dont have a role in the main story yet. feel free to ask any questions, me and @kylelily123abc4 will do our best to answer them (:

UZI

Uzi is a 21 year old woman with an undergraduate in medical engineering, which she was coaxed into by her parents (Namely Khan). She is incredibly adept and smart and prefers the technicalities of weapons engineering, and majors in art on the side. She would like to do it full time, however her parents insist it’s not a “real job.” She volunteers at the local hospital N, V and J are relocated to from overseas so they can continue inpatient care until they are stable enough to be discharged and resume physio / psychotherapy as outpatients. She meets N during his time there and immediately clicks with him, and eventually begins to visit him on her off hours, and continues to visit him even after her contract ends. They end up establishing a relationship together and, after finding it is much less expensive commuting to school, moves in with N, V, J, Cyn and Tessa in their apartment for the semester.

She spent most of her childhood moving around and being bullied—the most significant moment having been when her first kiss was stolen by someone who only dated her because he was dared to.

Uzi is a big fan of all things anime, edgy humor, hot topic, and nightcore. she’s got the soul of an unabashed 2000s emo girl stuck in the modern day.

N

Private first class Nate (all his friends call him N) Is a 23 year old man who was fostered from a family in Utah alongside his sister Cyn under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. When of applicable age, he went back to the United States to enlist in the marines and live with Cyn, a former child prodigy who was scouted and given multiple scholarships due to record breaking academics and reflexes on simulator games.

He was severely traumatized during his first deployment overseas along with his other childhood friends, V, and J, after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. He, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Despite his honorable discharge and severe ptsd diagnosis, N does his best to remain upbeat and positive, almost to a fault, oftentimes repressing “bad” thoughts or feelings.

He ends up meeting Uzi in the hospital and they form a relationship together, her eventually moving in and living with V, J, Him, Tessa, and Cyn in their flat after they’re discharged from the hospital.

J

Sergeant Jane (Only preferring J when around close friends) is a 26 year old trans woman who was fostered from an immigrant afghan family under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 4-18, having realized she was a woman very early in life. She began socially transitioning at 12, and began HRT as soon as she aged out of the system. She was the first to be involved with the Elliots and was pushed to enlist in the australian military, quickly moving up the ranks to sergeant and was eventually posted in the united states to assist in training other cadets. She was severely traumatized during her second deployment overseas along with her other childhood friends, V, and N after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. she, along with J and V spent a total of 12 hours alone in the desert before they were airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

Having been their squad leader, J often blames herself for the incident, even if she doesn’t talk about it or say anything out loud. J is an ass kisser. She will do anything and everything to succeed and has a Holier Than Thou personality, often very uptight and not about any bullshit. Her relationship with N specifically is horrible, and she harbours lots of jealousy and resentment from their time growing up due to favoritism.

She has a long standing, massive crush on Tessa Elliot, her longtime confidant and friend, though it went unrequited for their entire childhood and into their early adult life, J often being subject to Tessa’s dating endeavours and crushes in the meantime.

V

Lance Corporal Victoria, (Who prefers to go by V present day) 4-18 who was fostered from a family in Vermont under Tessa, another childhood friend, and the Elliot family in Melbourne Australia from the ages of 8-18. She enlisted in the military alongside J and eventually N, and was transferred to the states to assist in training procedures for new cadets with J.

She was decommissioned during her second deployment overseas along with N and J after their humvee hit an IED during a routine supply run. All three were critically injured and the sole survivors of their team of 6. She took the brunt of the blast, sustaining the most severe wounds and was airlifted to an emergency hospital in germany, then, once stabilized, returned to the states to resume inpatient care in Salem, Oregon.

The doctors operating on her told her she would never walk again--V proved that wrong by walking the next week. It was a miracle—however V simply states it was due to “having that dog in her.”

She is very resilient, but is often grumpy with a dry sense of tone and humor. She used to have feelings for N when they were kids, but it's since faded as they grew and disappeared during their time in active duty. Though despite this, she still cares for him as a friend, even if she rarely shows it.

She is the first to be discharged, having been set up in an apartment downtown by Tessa, who lives with her and eventually is joined by N, J, Cyn, and eventually Uzi. She is a gym rat with a heavy workout regimen that she will make everyone else's problem if its interrupted.

CYN

Cynthia (Who ONLY goes by Cyn present day) is N's little sister. She is still in active duty in the military air-force. She was a child savant who graduated highschool at 14 and college at 18, moving on to become one of the best UAV operators in history, with successful missions reaching into the hundreds. Cyn is autistic and physically disabled, having been born with cerebral palsy, and uses forearm crutches as mobility aids--but make no mistake, she is incredibly intuitive and adept. often knock-kneed and walks with an awkward gate, and speaks with very ‘robotic’ mannerisms. She sometimes struggles to show empathy in a ‘socially normal way’ or have a conversational filter. She has a very dark sense of humor as well, that for those not used to her may find jarring or off putting. Cyn hates being referred to as a child or incompetent because of her appearance or her disability, she will even go to an extent to prove the point that she does not need assistance. Tends to be protective of N, to a lesser but still protective of V and J and much later down the line Uzi becomes a close friend of hers.

In her off time she enjoys painting warhammer figurines, collecting cards and playing video games. She has a very kitsch, macabre sense of interest, often owning eclectic, odd knick knacks and memorabilia, namely a taxidermied wombat she’s affectionately named “Suzie.”

TESSA

Dr Tessa James Elliot is a very talented surgeon working out of a public hospital in Brisbane, Australia, descending from a very rich family. She is N, V and J’s childhood friend and frequently travels to different parts of the world to assist in surgeries or specialist care. Tessa paused all of her work when she learned of their incident overseas, flying to America to personally attend to their care–with some bribery and finagling due to HIPPA not allowing biased treatment. She just cares too much to not do anything. Tessa is a joyful, social butterfly. Excellent bedside manner and a good sense of humor but sometimes comes off as socially awkward. She is J’s lifelong crush despite not being aware of it, having spent some time dating around but nobody ever seems to be the right fit. She often complains about her recent dating endeavors to J much to her chagrin.

Tessa is, for the lack of a better word, weird. Think Cyn with a little more charisma, often not having a conversational filter or saying things out of the blue. She is not disturbed by otherwise off putting things like death, bodily fluids, nudity, gore etc, and has a bit of a dark sense of humor that she portrays very upbeat and positively. She is incredibly smart and adept bookwise, however socially she comes up a bit short.

there is an alternative version of these guys however it is 18+ for nudity. you can see it on bluesky here and twitter here