#THAT WOULD FORM AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT SITUATION WITH CHILD-CARE

[dcxdpdabbles]

In Freelance Inventor, does anyone in JL know about Danny? Do they try to help the kids Parent Trap Danny and Bruce? Does Selina know about Danny?

Batman is acting strange.

It's often that Clark thinks this. He feels a bit guilty judging people like that, but no one in the league, or hell, the world, can deny that Batman is an abnormal human.

If he even is human.

Not much is known about one of the founding members of the Justice League, and while Clark and Diana are arguably the closest to him, they don't even know his real name. Not that it was a problem.

They would trust him with their lives and learn to turn to him for leadership in dire times. It always seemed like he was prepared for literally anything, and when something managed to suppress the Dark King, it didn't last long, for he had a backup plan formed seconds later.

That's how they work. How the three changed a necessary alliance into a globally recognized league of heroes.

While Clark was good at making feel people feel safe, and Diana could rally forces, Batman had a way of making the impossible happen. Together the three tackled the world's problems making one day better at a time.

That did nothing to make people feel slightly....uneased by Batman. Clark was man enough to admit that even he got spooked. One time, he offhanded mentioned that he could recognize heartbeats when talking to Oliver and Batman.

Batman had tilted his head, made direct eye contact with Clark and suddenly, his heart rate had slowed down, beating entirely different. Clark felt horrified when the Dark Knight kept that same heartbeat for the following week, only switching mid-meeting to a faster one than the previous two.

Clark is Kryptonian. He is an alien. Sure, he developed most during puberty, but he always had superstrength and super speed as a tot. That's why he doesn't make sense, but Batman?

He had no idea what was going on with Batman, and frankly, he didn't want to touch the subject with a ten-foot pole.

Yet he could not help but think of the strange little hermit as a friend. Batman, in his own way, cared deeply for people. He never mentioned it but he always support heroes in their daily lives and although he grumbled a bit, was always there when someone needed him.

Yes, he wasn't the most approachable of heroes and a bit too professional, but he was still one of the greatest heroes in history for a reason. Clark always felt better of their chances when Batman was involved.

Seeing even a hit of disbalance in the Dark Knight made him worry.

Batman never lingered after meetings, training or monitor duty. Once he finished he was heading straight back to Gotham sometimes without a by your leave.

Batman did not do that today. Instead, he was staring out the watch tower's common room into the stars and hadn't moved for over two hours. Plenty of other heroes had already fled the room, too unnerved by the silent brooding man.

The last time this happened was because Robin had first shown up, shocking the world with his bright, impish laughter from Batman's shadows. Batman had taken months trying to decided to let the boy join him, and only because Robin straight up did not give him a option did he allow it.

Clark had been with Diana, angry that he was dragging a child into such dangerous situations only to have the Bat tell them to "stop him yourself then"

He did, but no matter how many times he captured Robin the boy was back on the streets a few hours later. Clark felt his hair grey from ever second he spent with the angry child. Diana hand't had much luck.

In fact the boy had, somehow bended in a way that had scared her into thinking she broken his spin, to escape her lasso. Her moment of fright was the opening he needed to scurry away, shouting at the top of his lungs that he would never be stopped.

She respected him but still captured the boy a few hours later. She screamed when Batman called her again to let her know the boy was seen fighting a gang at the ports that same night.

What could possibly cause Batman to stress the same way as his son? The founding members weren't sure, but they were all staring at him from the doorway after noticing every other hero avoiding the place like the plague.

"Go talk to him" Hal hissed at Clark.

"Me?" Clark spluttered. "Why me?"

"He is less likely to kill you," Barry tells him with the gravest expression Clark has ever seen on his face. "You are also the most likely one to survive Batman's attempt on your life if he decides to kill you."

Superman gapes at him, twisting around to all his teammates but everyone is either nodding or avoiding his eyes. They all decided he was the sacrifice it seemed. Traitors.

But it's true he is worried about his friend. He is slightly afriad of his friend but Clark would not be able to sleep at night if he didn't at least reach out to Batman.

Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he twists on his heel and marches over to the dark figure. He tries to shake the feeling of walking to his executor as he finally carefully stops by Batman's side. He doesn't look at him, keeping his gaze on the stars.

Neither man said anything, peacefully observing the darkness and lights of space.

Clark waited about thirty seconds before the silence got too much for him. "Er, Batman? Is everything alright?"

Batman didn't even twitch, a tight frown- more turn down on the right corner to then the left which meant it was a nervous kind of upset instead of annoyed upset as ussal. A full minute goes by where Clark wonders if Batman even heard him about to start babbling to try to get some conversation going when the man speaks.

"Superman, have you ever been in love?"

Clark swears he never experienced whiplash this badly. He honestly thinks the loud crack that came from his neck when he turned it in shock to the other Leaguer meant that he broke it.

Batman held no hint that he said anyhting but Clark could still hear the question echoing in his head as he gaped. He got ahold of himsrlf when he noticed Batman's heart beat pick up- nervous, embarssed. even fighten?- and his shoulder hitched up slightly.

Crude he made his friend feel bad.

"No! No no! I was just surprised, is all," He cries, waving his hands. Lois's face flashes in his mind, causing him to smile slightly dropply. "I have. I am actually. There this girl- at my work. She's great. Um, why do you ask?"

"....how do you know you're in love?"

Boy, was Clark really having this conversation at his age? He felt like a fumbling teenager. Granted, he only had one girlfriend back in high school, and he was fairly sure she only dated him to piss off her dad.

Still this was great! He has never had a conversation this deep with Batman before!

"I'm not sure if it's the same for Kryptonians as it is humans- you are human right?"

"Yes."

Oh, so Batman was just like that. Good to know.

"Well, I knew from how she made me feel nervous but happy nervous? As if the world was brighter. Better. And when I'm not near her, all my thoughts somehow return to her." Clark thinks of how to best explain love, turning the world over in his head before snapping his fingers. "You know when you just adore a certain food? That no matter how often you eat it or how long it's been, it just makes you feel better? There isn't a real reason why you like it so much you just do. That's what she's like for me."

Batman nods slowly. He might not be able to see his eyes but Clark could image them softening just by the way his whole body relaxes. "I see. Then I am in love. Thank you."

He turns away before Clark can get his jaw off the floor. Batman stride right out the room, ingorre the scrambling heros who try to act like they weren't easedropping and vanishes in a flash of light back to Gotham.

He did all that as if nothing had happened.

Clark has half the mind to think he just haluciated the entire five minutes before Barry blurted. "Batman is in love?! That's amazing!"

They spent the rest of the night trying to guess who was the person that could have possibly romanced Batman.

Barry and Hal were convinced it was another vampire- they didn't believe the Dark Knight was telling the truth when he claimed he was human- while both Diana and Arthur both claimed the person had to be a deadly warrior.

J'onn was under the impression it had to be someone who was the polar opposite of Batman. On Mars, that was the common couple dynamic. Thus, the person Batman loved was likely a civilian. A dumb sociable one.

He didn't say Bruce Wayne exactly, but J'onn heavily implied Bruce Wayne. He even pointed out that Mr. Wayne financed everything the Leauge used from the very beginning, of course in secert but it was still his money.

Why would he do that if he wasn't somehow profoundly involved? Obviously, the billionaire wanted Batman safe, maybe even returned his feelings. The rest of the Leauge looks half convinced by the logic.

Personally? Clark was just happy that Batman found anyone at all. No matter who they were, he would do everyhting he could to help his friend woo his crush.

That's what friends are for, after all.

[the-orange-solace]

When I was a child, I watched an episode of Criminal Minds where a man had a split personality. A woman who killed other women who threatened the man she formed to protect. I remember her sitting in the dark on a couch, a cigarette in hand beside a lamp, as she spoke to an Agent about why she had to kill them, that it was to protect him. It was her entire purpose for existing.

As a child, I used to pace empty halls in the middle of the night and lay in bed, repeating in my mind that I would be the only being in my body. I will not break into multiple people. I will be in control. I have to be because, at the time, I believed I could break into those monstrous plurals you see on TV. The ones that killed their family after years of neglect, abuse, and wrongdoing. The ones you should be afraid of ever becoming, no matter who you are or your situation.

So I became terrified.

And yet, nearly every night, I'd look up at the sky or the ceiling and beg for something to change—to not be alone. I was stuck pretending I was a different character, a type of escapism that sometimes got out of hand, lost in an identity that wasn't my own. Looking up and imagining being taken away, every character I adored was by my side, caring for me in return. I had to keep going, be them, and exist in a world with them.

I'd made up stories, different realities, and places in my mind to escape to, as well as explanations for things my underdeveloped brain couldn't comprehend in the place I found myself within. I clung to concepts, characters, and situations that reflected my own, and soon, I no longer felt alone—not with all the escapism I conjured up, not with the different identities to help me face what was happening.

But I was in control. I was one being. No matter what. I had to be a single being because that was good. I had to be good.

I would never hurt anyone, and being many meant being bad. I couldn't be bad.

When I was a teenager, I started researching and getting involved in minority and disabled spaces. I loved being informed, the stories, the many perspectives, and the complexity of humanity. So it was no surprise when I shared a plural headcanon with a friend, and they felt safe coming out to me. They were many. They took my hand and guided me through a community I was fascinated with and wanted to aid and represent like so many others.

I spent years learning, staying silent as others spoke, just listening to everything I could. But then, one day, like so many others, I spoke through a different facet, a different identity I had created as a child. The many faces of me represented things I could not be, I could not hold, nor could I handle. I was struggling; some of me wanted to lash out. So she did. She lashed out.

As always, I was faced with kindness, listening ears, and aid that then pushed me more to the surface from drowning. But I never left; just another part of me was lost, right? Of course. People are complex. I deal with my emotions in a complex way. Of course.

My plurally disabled friend watched as I became more comfortable speaking through the identities I had, whether they were facets of myself or characters that helped me. Soon enough, the continuous "role-play" and "emotional processing" developed into normal conversation, a comfort, a relief.

They kindly approached me and asked if I was a system, too. They had never met anyone who spoke to themselves like I do, definitely not any singlets. None of our other friends did, in person or not, not even people in our families. It was just us.

The fear from my childhood arose. I couldn't be multiple; I couldn't be more than one. It was bad. But hadn't I learned about Plurality? All its ups and downs? Its complexities and nuances? I accepted it wholeheartedly; I learned and evolved from the demonized perception I was given as a child. So, why was it still bad?

Because I must be lying; I must be a fake, a poser. It was the only reason, wasn't it? I had seen so many conversations and arguments about fakes, those who wished to be special. Had I somehow become the harm they spoke of? How could I do this to a community I swore to listen to and fight for?

I obsessed over it, forcing the panic, dissociation, habit, and ease of speaking in multiple identities and beings of myself away. I buried it as deep as I could for the betterment of everyone else. The community didn't deserve such harm, and I wouldn't bring it to their doorstep if I claimed it to be something I'm not.

The loathing became so present it formed into tics that caused aches and disruptions in my life. Multiple stressors--along with an identity crisis--will do that to someone. So my shoulder and neck muscles ached from shrugging, flexing, and all the repetitive movements I couldn't stop without crying from the suppression. So I didn't. I let it disrupt and hurt.

Then, one day, someone, some random, unknown system to me out in the world, spoke about how it didn't matter what was real or not; it didn't hurt anyone. Plurality and the belief of it didn't hurt anyone. It hurt no one to discover themselves, to test the waters, to simply pry into yourself and learn. There was no shame in figuring yourself, or yourselves, out. There was no right or wrong, nothing to be ashamed of or fearful of. Just another part of living.

So I did. I poked and prodded. I gave my parts names, spoke to them in the middle of the night, asked questions, got to know them, and learned we couldn't talk through words at first but could emotions and sensations. I realized I couldn't find where my Plurality started or where it ended, that we—oh god, we—the idea was so surreal but...comforting—were so combined, living without specific individuality outside of me that there was no separation in sight. Not that I could figure out. For so long, I believed everything was just me. Only me.

But now it was someone else, too. These things that made no sense, these things that felt out of place or special, unique, and ever-changing could be someone else.

Someone else.

The more I reflected, learned, applied, and prodded, the more things made sense. Until one day, I looked at my friends, held my breath, and spoke. Stated that it like it was a sin for me of all people to say.

I was plural.

No one blinked an eye. No one questioned it outside of boundaries and clarification. It wasn't surprising that their childhood friend was many. How surprising could it be when they used so many different names for different parts of themselves to express hard things?

It was astonishing.

And here we are, years and years later, grown and still learning, living, fighting, but more in touch with ourselves than ever before with so many more sys friends and aquatints. More experiences, a better understanding.

It's not shameful to learn, apply, and reflect. You take nothing from anyone but your time and open-minded exploration of the world and yourself(ves). There is no evil in being human, living life, phase or not. There is nothing wrong with you, any of you, for existing or living. You just are. I embrace you, I embrace us, and I embrace everything that comes with a life of many.

So, if you're struggling, just know you're not alone outside the body. We know, and so do many others. It's going to be okay; you'll find yourself in time. Don't rush it. There will always be time.

[drghostwrite]

Dark Nights

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x preg!wife!reader

Summary:

********************************************************

"You can't ask that of her!" Natasha yelled across the table. You were both called into a conference room with Fury and agent Hill, they were talking about a last-minute mission though your wife was concerned about your approaching due date. While they argued and Maria played referee you found yourself staring out the window of the large conference room a million things running through your mind, one hand running along your bump as your baby kicked.

"And who are you to decide that?" Nick Fury shot back at the other agent.

"I'm her wife." Nat responded.

"Oh because that's stopped other agents before." He responded

"Fury you know I respect you but that's my wife, the mother of my child, our unborn child that in case you haven't noticed she's carrying."

"Okay, okay, before this goes any farther... How about we ask Y/N, she is sitting right here." Maria finally spoke up, motioning to your distracted form.

"Y/N?" you're wife gently called.

You rubbed a hand over your eyes trying to clear your head taking in a gasp before refocusing your eyes on them, "If and I mean IF I were to agree to this what all would it entail?"

"Well that..."

"No I want full disclosure, no more confidentiality and clearance levels, if I'm doing this and potentially putting my life and the life of my unborn child on the line I need to know everything." Nat sat next to you and turned to Fury.

"We had a situation a few years back, an agency that's been working against SHEILD, they used to be a part of Hydra but they reformed, they have recruited agaents and took over one of our smaller compounds, though it's to be evacuated this week to keep their identities a secret, we need someone to get in ther."

"That's where I asked why they picked you with being on leave."

"My main concern isn't getting you in, it's the systems on the inside, all the coders did was build into the SHEILD mainframe, they have no access to us but they have similar systems so I need someone that's a trained agent, and good with the computers, it would be in and out, need to know basis, all I need you to do is get in, crash their systems and get out."

"So that's where I come in?"

"Exactly."

"Okay, in and out, only on the condition that you do have agents on site and Natasha is in the command center, I want her in my ear at all times."

"Whatever gets you onboard, let's get you briefed and prepped for the field." Fury said.

---time jump---

You turned down the hallway, dimly lit by soft baseboard lights, you turned another corner but quickly pushed back when you saw two guards stationed outside the control room, any other time you would've just incapacitated them both but being 36 weeks pregnant wasn't helping you much.

"Natasha?"

"Y-Y/N? I'm r-r-ri-ght here what'sss go-going on-n?" The intercoms were breaking up which meant your job was going to get that much harder. "Two guards outside the command room, change of plans."

"Detka please, be careful."

"Will do, intercoms are getting scratchy, if this is it till I get out of here, I love you Natasha."

You made the decision that if you couldn't get in the control room you could still shut it down remotely, so you backtracked and took some different turns stumbling upon the old director's office, silently patting yourself on the back and opening the door.

You walked over to the desk, and brushed your hand along the command bar that's built into the desk, the hovering screens flashed to life. You swiped moving the screens around, they asked for your password and thanked Tony Stark for giving you a built in back door, when Ultron took over he built a back pathway that allowed you access but nothing was associated to you as a person so you had access to the entire system without anyones knowledge. You quickly started working pulling up the mainframe and started untagling the mess the rebellion had created, you were so close to unraveling the whole thing when you felt a sharp pain running through your abdomen.

You stopped in your tracks waiting to see if it was just your imagination, but then another one, this time catching you off guard causing you to keel over using the desk for support. "shit, shit, shit... this can't be happening." you said worry flooding your features, you tried calming yourself but you knew what this could mean.

"Natasha?" You called over the intercoms, but no response so you tried again but you realized there was no signal, you were alone and going into labor. You thought about backtracking and alerting them but as you went to exit the office you heard footsteps, quickly swiping the screens dark again you watched as the guards walked by standing next to the door frozen, you felt the warm liquid running down your legs and realized that this was it, the night just went from dangerous to deadly if you didn't get help quickly. Your water just broke and you were by yourself in an enemy compound with no way to communicate with anyone outside.

You cringed as another contraction took over your body pressing a hand tightly under your swollen bump, "Oh baby not now, please not now." you brought the screens back up typing rapidly, taking the mainframe down meant potentially setting off a bunch of alarms which meant that you would be exposing yourself in the height of labor.

"Okay wait if this is built into the SHEILD mainframe I can get ahold of your other mommy...Oh God..." Another contraction took over, you slid to the floor, pulling out your phone you connected it to the computer sending an "SOS" to Nat hoping that she would get it in time.

"Okay baby, this is me and you until we get help, so I'm gonna need you to slow down a little bit." you ran a hand over your bump closing your eyes and leaning against the strong desk.

You moved quickly into the adjoining room moving into the corner, grimacing at the pain of your baby trying to make it's way into the world, "God you're as impatient as your mother...Nnngghh."

You heard the door to the office start to open and held your breath, hearing light footsteps, and saw as a light scanned the room.

"Y/N... detka are you in here?" you heard a whispering voice call out.

"Natasha?" you called, you listened as hurried footsteps moved towards you, the door swung open revealing your wife. As she looked in on you her worst fears coming true, she quickly got down in front of you, running a hand soothingly along your thigh.

"Y/N what's going on?"

"It-it's the baby...Nnghh, Natasha our baby is coming," you said and tears started to fall, you were a trained agent one of the best to ever step foot in SHIELD, you were an Avenger a super soldier, but in this moment you were scared out of your mind.

"Um, okay baby it's okay."

"M-my water broke...we need to get out of here"

"Okay, Y/N it'll all be okay, Maria is outside getting a hold of Steve she's calling in a rescue team, you know Bucky will be breaking down that door as soon as he finds out."

"I-I cannghh..." you gripped her hand throwing your head back gritting through a contraction, "I got you baby, just breathe."

"Nat this is happening now."

"Okay, then let's do this." she said as you slowly shook your head agreeing with her.

"Okay, my pants you gotta help me." you said pushing at the waistband, she quickly hooked her fingers in your pants pulling them off along with your panties and laying them to the side.

"Y/N, I can see it... I can see the head."

"Whaa- no I-I no this wasn't supposed to happen like this... Nat I can't do this... Hhahh, I can't do this."

"Y/N Romanoff yes you can, you are my wife, one of the strongest people I know I've never once seen you back down from a challenge or a threat and you protect the ones you love so fiercely, I never once doubted starting a family with you, so if anyone knows, I do. I know that you can do this."

"Woouuu...Nnghh." you tried but these contractions were getting closer and closer, "I-I need to push."

"Okay, follow your body." you pushed, your nails digging into Natasha's shoulder as she was bent down in between your legs, she was reassuring you while you fought through a few more contractions.

"Okay Y/N head is out, just a couple more and we meet our baby." you tried to answer but the contractions were too close, you pushed a couple more times before your wife was holding your newborn in her arms.

"It's a girl, we have a baby girl." you listened as her cries filled the room, you started feeling lightheaded.

"Natasha I don't feel so good."

"Y/N, I-Y/N..." she said noticing the blood, you were bleeding fast and she realized that you needed to get out of there asap.

She heard as the door to the office crashed in, "Y/N! Natasha!" you heard Bucky yell out, he moved around the room and stopped outside the door hearing your newborn daughter's cries, he opened it coming in.

"Is that?"

"Yes." Natasha said tears in her eyes, and he quickly realized how dire the situation was.

"Bucky, she, the blood..."

"Okay let's go I got her." He quickly picked you up making sure you were covered and started out the door. Natasha saw the screens still live and hit the execute button, running our behind Bucky with your baby in her arms.

46 hours later and the mission had been executed, you were finally awake and safely at your home holding your baby girl, Natasha was next to you holding you both in her arms, you had minor hemorrhaging after the birth but luckily had some of the best doctors around, meaning you made it out almost completely unscathed and with a perfectly healthy baby girl. Though you and Nat quickly agreed that next time there would be no last-minute missions so close to your due date.

[maochira]

Being Ohma Tokita's adopted child

Characters: Ohma, Kazuo, Kaede (one mention), Koga, Ryuki

gn!child!reader, hurt/comfort, first part is about Kengan Ashura and the second about Kengan Omega (there will be an Omega spoiler warning!)

If it wasn't for Ohma, you would be dead by now. You barely would have had a chance at life.

Born as the child to a prostitute on The Inside and without your biological father anywhere near the first years of your life were... rough. You don't remember any of it, but your mother really tried her best to take care of you.

Until she was murdered.

Ohma found you by coincidence. And normally he wouldn't have cared about a lonely toddler on the streets. Death is a daily occurrence on The Inside, after all.

There was just something different about you. Something that made Ohma decide to take care of you for the time being. Maybe for a few weeks or months, just long enough for him to find someone who could take better care of you than he could.

Ohma never ended up giving you away. He couldn't get himself to do it.

One day you suddenly called him "dada" and that was when he realised how fatherly he felt for you. And he realised if he gave you away, he'd only worry about how your life would continue without him.

He promised to himself to raise you into a strong fighter so you can defend yourself even when he's not around.

You were 5 at the time when Ohma became a Kengan fighter. It was odd because you weren't used to being around so many people so you would always stay at Ohma's side.

You quickly got attached to Kazuo and Kaede and ended up clinging to them whenever Ohma was in a fight.

At first Ohma was critisized for bringing you along, especially when he took you to the Kengan Annihilation tournament, but that criticism went down when everyone noticed how much you love to watch Ohma (and everyone else) fight.

Especially when it became obvious how eager you are to become a fighter when you'd grow up, people stopped critisizing Ohma for the most part. After all, he's trying to raise someone who might become one of the strongest Kengan fighters of the next generation.

KENGAN OMEGA SPOILERS BEGIN BELOW THE IMAGE

After Ohma's "death" Kazuo decided to take custody over you. He's already raised two sons, so how hard could it be to raise you as well? It definitely was a lot harder than he expected.

Besides his new job and new life situation in general he was mourning Ohma's death just as much as you were. But every time you seemed to get better, Kazuo started healing a little more as well.

Despite the fact that you're not Ohma's biological child, Kazuo could always see parts of him in you. That motivated Kazuo to raise you into the fighter Ohma had planned.

Other Kengan fighters would help with your training and introduced you to all sorts of fighting styles. You learned the many techniques you were taught by them a lot quicker than any other child your age would, which impressed everyone.

When Koga showed up you got attached to him surprisingly quickly. To him, you're something like the little sibling he never had. You also ended up calling him "Nii-san" at some point because you spent so much time with him.

When you first met Ryuki, you were the first one to not mistake him for Ohma. At first you didn't want to be near Ryuki at all, but soon started feeling some sense of security around him. In some ways he still reminded you of your father who you missed so much.

And then everything turned around. The entire time, Ohma wasn't actually dead.

He hated how he couldn't be there for you the past two years, but what he hated even more was the thought of bringing you into danger.

The moment Ohma finally got to reuinite with you was the first and only time he cried in front of you. It wasn't much, but you could see the tears forming in his eyes.

If you liked this, please remember to reblog and write some tags! It's the easiest way to support me and reading them motivates me a lot!

[crooked-wasteland]

How do you feel about Charlie as a character?

When someone brings up Charlie to me, three scenes immediately come to mind:

Charlie whining that being direct and using her status and responsibility to influence change is "mean".

When she's frantically panicking over how the hotel is not "working", but instead of actually specifying the events in the series that brought the cast together, she only mentions the things she herself suggested, despite her own ideas having been useless at best and actively detrimental to the people in her care at worst.

When she vents to Alastor about Vaggie not telling Charlie about being an angel, she doesn't once look at the situation from Vaggie's perspective of being no different than any other sinner, she demands to know what about her is untrustworthy. Entirely self absorbed.

Medrano has stated that she sees both Vaggie and Charlie as self-insert characters. Putting aside the Freudian self-cest implications, I feel that Medrano's self righteousness and superficial idea of kindness are on full display in Charlie's character. As a person, Charlie is insufferable. She inserts herself in ways people ask her not to, she has a surface level form of empathy, and she exists in a world where her intention supercedes the consequences of her actions. She is nothing but kind and understanding to everyone around her, a perpetual victim of people snubbing her, but she perseveres nonetheless.

Charlie's line in particular about Vaggie encouraging her to take control of a situation being "mean" is clearly how Medrano hand waves her own responsibility to the overall culture of her fandom. To try and regulate anything would be her being "mean", when in reality it is a way of not taking responsibility for the consequences of her own behavior and encouraging the hostility within the fandom.

Furthermore, the fact that both Charlie and Vaggie are two qualities of a single person explains why neither of them have any nuance. It's why Charlie wants to "help" the Sinners in Hell despite them generally accepting and being content with their lives, revelling in their "sins". It's why Charlie's skit for Angel and Pentious has dogmatic language about the "right" way to live one's life. And it's why Vaggie is never explored as being an exterminator who once was so successful as an executioner that she was considered the best of the best, and yet when faced with a black and white ethical concept of killing a child, she immediately has a change of heart.

There is no internal conflict or nuance for either of these characters because, ultimately, both are self righteous caricatures of the director who is broadcasting how much of a "good" person she thinks she is. That she knows what is best for everyone because she just wants to help, regardless of anyone else's desires or situations.

Small edit to point out this is a theme in her works. It directly parallels Blitz in Truth Seekers telling Moxxie that he is "hard" on him because he knows that Moxxie can be "better". And instead of just talking to Moxxie or encouraging him to keep growing, he instead uses manipulation and abuse to "persuade" Moxxie to change. Just like how Charlie imposes her own desires on others and then just keeps "suggesting" that they change. Because, really, Charlie and Blitz know what's the best for everyone around them.

It's why I am vehemently opposed to the idea that anything about Hazbin Hotel is a criticism of Christianity. Because in the end, Charlie is an evangelist spreading her teachings and Good Word to the sinners to save their souls, whether they like it or not.

It's not hard to see how Medrano sees herself in these qualities, and the passive aggressive self righteousness is thinly veiled under a smile and "good intentions".

[aniseandspearmint]

Thought about a SVSSS AU.

Everyone seems to have settled into very similar backgrounds for SY, right? He's a rich young shut in, with a family that consists of unknown parents, and an older brother or two (often mirrors of SJ and YQY), and a little sister.

And he's got SOME kind or chronic or ultimately terminal illness.

But what if it was more COMPLICATED than that?

What if all of SY health problems were caused by Fictitious Disorder by proxy? Also called Munchhausen by proxy.

This is when a carer, usually a parent, deliberately causes an injury or illness in their child (or partner, but in this case, CHILD) in order to reap the attention that caring for such an ill child gets them.

I'm not sure how this would be discovered and addressed in china, but given Rich People TM, being pretty similar everywhere, i can see the whole thing being discovered and the rest of the family maybe quietly sweeping SY and the scandal under the rug?

Like, hmmm, okay, say it was SY's mother doing this for attention. She developed the disorder as a form of pathological attention seeking after the birth of her third son, who maybe did have something minor wrong at first. Maybe he was born a bit prematurely, and needed extra support for a while, and that got her a lot of sympathy and care from others.

So she convinces herself that oh, it's not really HURTING him if she slips a little something in his formula that makes him a bit sick. Then in his food as he gets older.

And SY, well he's a smart kid. He maybe figures it out. When his little sister is born and gets sick too, despite being full term and otherwise healthy at first. Maybe he sees his mother slipping something in her food. And he didn't know what to do when it was HIM really, but that's his baby sister.

Or, maybe SY isn't involved in the discovery at all, maybe a maid or a nanny, or one of his brothers, sees something that prompts them to look deeper at the situation.

However it happens, it happens, and his mother vanishes into a family home up in the mountains, or near the coast, and his sister gets better. But him? his mother had been poisoning him for his entire life. He's a bit better now, that he's not ACTIVELY being poisoned, but there's not a fix for him.

He moves out to a fully paid apartment as soon as he's old enough. Maybe even a little sooner, really. His father won't look at him. And his brothers fuss but will hardly look him in the eye either. His little sister, doesn't really know, at first, but then maybe she feels guilty, that it took her getting sick for anyone to realize something was wrong.

He'll NEVER be better, and its all over their faces when he sees them.

Cue shut in behavior, cue obsessing over silly stories, cue transmigration.

I wonder what little differences a SY with that kind of medical trauma and abuse would cause?

[artful-aries]

May I request a Scaramouche/Wanderer platonically with a fem!child!reader who he saw himself within Scaramouche adopted her mostly because Teyvat don’t need a repeat of all of what Scaramouche did

It took me way too long to put this out, but I hope you enjoy!! The reader can actually be read as gender neutral for this, hope that’s okay!

Scaramouche/Wanderer With A Child Reader

If he comes across you as Scaramouche and not Wanderer, I think the experience would be different in a lot of ways. Namely being on how outwardly mean he would be

As Scaramouche, he will have complete and utter disdain for you when he finds you alone and abandoned. He would have left you there to deal with your situation alone had you not run to cling to his sleeve

He scoffs, calls you pathetic, and tries to “gently” pull away from your grasp, but in your childlike desperation for a companion you had a surprisingly firm grip on him as you begged him not to leave

At this point he would likely be rough and push you to the ground, walking away despite the sound of your cries as he does so. Yet the further he gets away, the more of a nagging feeling he gets. Why does he care about what happens to some feeble human child? If they got eaten by some wild animal or killed by hilichurls it wouldn’t even phase him

Against his better judgment, he will come back to you, but will be glaring at you the entire time as if it was your fault he returned. From there, he would harshly ask you if you can make yourself useful, and rolls his eyes at your uncertain answer

Despite Scaramouche holding a lot of contempt for you and your fragility, he grabs your arm and hoists you up to your feet, telling you that if you disappoint him he’s going to dump you off again in the woods

The fear is a surprisingly good motivator, and you do end up helping him in the small ways that you can given the fact that you’re only a small child. It’s still enough to earn his scorn, but over time you begin to realize that he does look out for you in his own way

His care is in the form of constantly scolding you, whether it’s over you accidentally dropping something, making rash decisions, or in general just being wholly annoying in his eyes. He doesn’t know how to be soft with you, and he probably isn’t capable of it anyway, but he does make sure that you’re at least in decent health

If he finds you as Wanderer, your experience under his wing will be better, but he’s still going to be rough around the edges

When he finds you and you cling to him, he feels a bit awkward and frowns at you, gently prying you off of him and insisting that he’s not your mother, so why should he take care of you?

Upon seeing you looking up at him like a kicked puppy, Wanderer sighs and gives you a pat on the head (albeit a bit of a hard pat) and tells you to follow him

He’ll bring you to Nahida and insist that she takes you into her care or at least passes you off to someone in Sumeru who would be willing to take you in, but the goddess has other plans. She thinks this is a great opportunity for Wanderer to develop his connections to humanity in a positive way, as well as learning to not be so rude all of the time

He protests to no end, pointing out how ill suited he is to the task, but Nahida will not budge. Begrudgingly, Wanderer begins to take you with him everywhere he goes regardless of the danger. It’s not that he doesn’t care about your safety, he’s just beyond confident that harm won’t come to you if he is nearby

When you grow naturally affectionate towards him it makes him feel very awkward and stiff, and the first time you give him a hug makes his eye twitch a little in irritation. Despite this, he lets you do what you want, and eventually learns to hug you back, albeit awkwardly

Aside from fulfilling your basic needs, the only way you’ll know how much Wanderer has come to actually care for you is the day that he makes you a stuffed animal to keep you company

He’ll insist that the stuffed animal is for you to hug instead of always bothering him, but his stern gaze always softens when he watches you play with it lovingly

[wisteria-blooms]

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (3/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 (let me know if I've missed you! otherwise, comment or DM me to be added) Uhm, before you start, peep this gorgeous GIF set below by @alicent-targaryen. Please just browse the entire #sam-heughan tag like I did for the past hour lol. A/N: Also, I don't think the most thorough editing job. I'll go over it again and fix hiccups.

CHAPTER 3: After an unplanned first 'date', having Charlie over for dinner sounds more scrumptious than any perfectly-done filet mignon. However, you should've known that involving him would involve more people than you would've liked. (3.7k words)

CHAPTER 3: IN TOO DEEP

It was the same dreadful feeling of getting in trouble when you were a child. A premonition that a scolding was coming.

That was what you felt as you followed your father down the hallway. But you weren’t going to be asked why Draco was crying after you pushed him (see: age three) or why you scored so poorly in an third-year elective over Christmas break (see: age thirteen). No, twenty-three was going to bring on a different slew of problems.

When you and Lucius were situated in a dark corridor and shielded from the view of the other patrons, you braced yourself. Deep in the shadows, you definitely looked like your father. You never quite got his platinum blonde hair or pale blue eyes; your colouring was always a touch darker. But here, you were the mirror image of him, displeased expressions and aversions to losing and all. 

You clenched your jaw shut as did Lucius until he finally gritted out: “What are you doing here? And in this get-up?”

“Why does it matter what I wear?” you snapped back. Lucius was draped in some of the fanciest emerald robes he’d owned, so whatever meeting he had was definitely important. 

“I don’t particularly care for what you’re wearing, but rather, who it belongs to,” Lucius clarified. “And for you to be here with that Weasley—”

“His name’s Charlie, father.”

“They’re all the same, a stain on our reputation, and speaking of such things,” Lucius continued, his voice gaining volume as he spoke. “We Malfoys have one to upkeep. Either bring some acceptable friends of yours or—”

Lucius quickly glanced around him to make sure there was no one important passing by. When he saw a woman exit the powder room, he waited pleasantly for her to pass before resuming his speech. One that you’d heard a million times. 

“Don’t present yourself here with him.”

“Oh, what does it matter?”

“You will leave this instance,” he commanded. “With the Weasley child.”

“He is not a child, and you can’t tell me what to do,” you countered, your voice rising too. “I can be here with whoever I please. In fact, we’ll have Jacques seat us so we can stay longer. He always has a spot in the restaurant for the Malfoys.”

“You will not,” he hissed. “I have more associates joining me and I won’t be—”

When an elderly couple turned the corner down the hall, you and Lucius both shut up immediately. At the same time, you choked out smiles at each other to give the guise of a pleasant conversation, not the whisper-shouting match that was actually going on. It was in that moment of much-needed silence that you realized something important: Lucius falsely assumed you and Charlie were together. Not in the form of a fling, but he falsely assumed Charlie was the boyfriend you were parading around yesterday. 

“I’m going back to Charlie. Good luck with your meeting.”

You spun away on your heels. As you ditched Lucius, you walked thunderously back to the front. Arguing with your father always put you in the worst of tempers. First, he threatened to have Goyle over because you were unpaired, and now, he was upset with your choice of partner? It was like arguing with a wall.

Up front, Charlie was waiting for you, two drinks in hand and a pastry bag in between his fingers. In the time you were gone, his order had been served. He handed a drink to you.

Trying to suppress your frustration, you asked Charlie in a whisper: “Can you follow my lead?”

“What was that?” he asked, leaning downwards. “You’re too quiet. Or too short for me to hear you.”

“Lean closer, then,” you instructed.

“Okay.” Charlie complied immediately, arching down even further until his lips were a touch too close to your ear. From the view of a bystander, it gave the appearance of him kissing your cheek, maybe his lips grazing your earlobe… You repressed a shudder, having to remind yourself that he just was fooling around like his younger brothers often did.

“Walk out with me,” you whispered. 

You extended your right hand, motioning for him to take it. And without a second of hesitation, he did. Those long, callused fingers wrapped around your smaller ones for the second time today. His grip was firm and protective. You turned your head slightly to see Lucius was looking, and sure enough, he was. Luckily from him, Mr. Lemieux was turned away from the spectacle. 

You imagined he was wearing his teeth down with how hard his jaw was clenched. Worn dentition was soon going to be the least of his problems if he kept pissing you off. 

“Let’s get out of here,” you said. 

“Tell me about it.”

You led him out back through the double glass doors. Your brisk walk turned into a jog down the street. You were trying not to trip on cobblestones or spill your drink again. When you’d reached a safe distance from Cauco, you burst out laughing. And so did Charlie.

“What was that?” he asked. “Actually, what is this?” He raised both your hands that were still tangled to each other. “A change of heart for me?”

“No, this is pure subterfuge,” you responded through fits of laughter. 

“What possessed you to take my hand?”

“My father told me to get out, so I did. I couldn’t leave you.”

“I didn’t know you had a flair for dramatics.”

“You don’t know me well enough!” you laughed. 

“Charlie?” a voice rang suddenly from the corner. “Is that you?”

Both of you whipped around.

It was Molly Weasley. Oh, you know, no other than Charlie’s mum.

Molly nearly dropped her woven baskets full of groceries at the sight of well, firstly, her son who was back home once a year if she was lucky. And secondly, you imagined at the shock of the two of you holding hands. 

You quickly removed your hand from Charlie’s. Now your expression really read like you’d been caught in this imaginary romp in the sheets. 

“What are you doing back in England?” Molly asked, bringing her son in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She cupped his face and gave it two firm pats, trying to ascertain that Charlie was real and not some apparition.

“Apparently, you can’t bank vacation for ten years straight,” he said. A blotch of red was forming on his cheeks from Molly’s hand. “Pretty ridiculous, I reckon—”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” Molly then demanded. “I could’ve prepared properly for you. A proper room, a proper meal.”

Charlie jolted. “I didn’t know until two days ago, I promise, mum. I’ve been on a train for the past day. I’ve barely slept all of last night.”

“Well, you’re just in time for a big lunch.” Molly looked at you. “(Y/N), dear,” she said, her voice much sweeter with you. “So lovely to see you, too.” 

“Likewise, Mrs. Weasley,” you responded.

“(Y/N), won’t you join us for lunch as well?” Molly hummed. Then she turned back to Charlie. “Charlie, you’ll be elated to know that Bill is home, too.”

You could never refuse Molly. You also weren’t in a rush to get home, knowing your father may be there, ready to have an argument about the scene you caused at Cauco. And the guilt was starting to settle in, so you shook it off with a nod towards Molly.

As the three of you walked up the grassy hill that led up to the Burrow, Charlie pestered Molly over the validity of her statement about Bill’s being home. “Is he really? You’re joking me, surely.”

“Why would I ever joke about that?” Molly asked. “You know I’ve always asked you to come home more often.”

Charlie groaned as he opened the door to his childhood home. “I should’ve brought home more Romanian parchment for him.”

“Why Romanian parchment?” you asked.

“It’s lighter and less resistant to tearing and burning. Easier for him to carry during expeditions and less to worry about goblins burning them.”

“I’m sure that’s the last thing on his mind right now,” Molly hummed. “But I shouldn’t spoil what your brother is going to tell you, no, I shouldn’t...” She seemed to be fighting with her own morals as she entered the house. 

“Good,” Charlie said as he let out a sigh of relief. “But now I should’ve bugged him for more Egyptian hide.” He pulled the hem of your jacket. “If I was wearing that instead of this jacket, my pocket would’ve lived to see the tale.”

“Is that yours, Charlie?” Molly asked. “I should’ve known, seeing as it’s so tattered up. But nothing I can’t fix.”

“You’ll have to fix (Y/N) up, too. I spilled coffee on her,” Charlie admitted sheepishly.

“Of course, I’ll tend to you, dear, in just a moment…” Molly unloaded her baskets on the counter, eyeing her assortment of meats, cheeses, vegetables, and breads. “Let me get the stew going first. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes.”

As Molly worked, you peered around the house. You’d been here many times throughout your school years and knew every nook and cranny. Though, you were always cooking things up with Fred and George in their room upstairs. You’d met Percy, Ron, and Ginny but never overlapped much with Charlie or Bill. Regardless, you’d always appreciated how inviting it was compared to your abode located upstate. Every bit of you felt warm from the sun seeping through the windows. In the house, things were stuffed to the brim until it was precariously close to exploding: books on the bookshelf, mugs in the cabinet, non-perishables in the pantry, spare blankets in the closet. And even though the Burrow was enclosed by farmland, Molly and Arthur were very friendly with the neighbours. You barely knew yours.

You were about to ask Molly if you could offer any assistance when you were interrupted by footsteps.

“Bill!” Charlie recognized his brother immediately. 

“Charlie?” Bill said. No sooner, he’d jumped down the last two steps and enveloped his younger brother in a hug that almost toppled him over. “What are you doing back in England?”

“It’s a long story,” Charlie said. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Bill started, trying to conceal a grin. He reached out for Fleur’s hand as she came down the steps behind him. “Fleur is expecting. We’re due in the next month or so.”

“What?” Charlie exclaimed. “Already?”

“What do you mean ‘already’?” Molly scolded suddenly from behind him. “It’s about time you settled down as well, Charles Weasley. You should consider staying put for once. I pray you won’t jostle your wife around like you do yourself—”

“I shouldn’t have said anything,” Charlie whispered to you before getting dragged off by Molly. Bill followed him into the kitchen.

“Hello, (Y/N),” Fleur said as she came down the last step. Despite being heavily pregnant, she was more than graceful.

“Hello, Fleur,” you responded. “Congratulations on the pregnancy. You look lovely.”

“Thank you,” she said, a proud smile on her face.

You waited awkwardly in the living room alone for a couple moments. You really wished Fred or George or both of them were here to give you someone to talk to. When Molly finished up giving orders to Bill and Charlie, you felt it appropriate to tiptoe into the kitchen. 

“Hello (Y/N),” Bill was the first to notice you creeping in. “Long time no see.”

Bill, as you faintly remembered, was indeed the tallest of the bunch. He was fit but not as muscular as Charlie, if what you saw this morning was anything to go by. He was more laid-back as well, and less prone to making remarks that would receive a scolding from Molly. 

“Indeed!” you responded, feeling more at ease. “And congratulations on the baby.”

“Thank you.” A smile broke out on Bill’s face. He was radiant, his blue eyes crinkling from his smile. His face wasn’t as angular and defined as Charlie’s but he was very handsome in a more boyish way. 

“I didn’t expect you to be here, you’re usually with Fred and George,” Bill said as if reading your mind. “Do you have some news of your own you want to share with me?”

You gave him a puzzled look.

“Mum told me she saw you and Charlie holding hands this morning, after your date,” Bill whispered, glancing slyly at Charlie. “I didn’t know that you were together. Charlie writes to me about everything. Apparently he left out an important chunk.”

Oh. Your date. “Oh, I’m not sure I—”

“That’s okay, I won’t press you. I’ll just ask Charlie,” Bill said, letting you off the hook. You breathed an internal sigh of relief. “He’s a tough read is all I’ll say. He dilly-dallys around a lot, especially around women.”

“Does he?” you said with a laugh. You thought of Charlie’s words to you earlier in the day.

 “One day, he’s saying he’s met this girl. Next week, he’s in love. Then, he wants to propose, and before I know it, I’m standing at the altar.”

Right, Bill wasted no time. Conversely, Charlie denied he was the same. 

Bill smiled. “I reckon so. But it’s no doubt you were able to read through him. You’ve always been smart.”

Your words caught at Bill’s sudden compliment. “Thank you, Bill. But I’m really not.”

“Come on, it was one class almost ten years ago,” Bill said with a teasing grin. “Nothing to beat yourself up over.”

“How do you know?” you asked, your cheeks heated. You’d never overlapped schooling with Bill and yet he knew about—

“Fred told everyone about the cursed elective the three of you took.”

You groaned. You were going to give Fred a piece of your mind next time you saw him.

“Bill, could you be a dear and call Fred and George over for lunch?” Molly called from the windowsill. She barely looked up at the stew she was seasoning. “I’m sure they can afford an hour for lunch now that their busy season is over.”

“Sure thing,” Bill acquiesced, throwing down the dishcloth. “I’ll talk to you later, (Y/N)." 

Molly replaced Bill’s spot in front of you and took you by the arm. “Now, follow me upstairs and let’s get you fixed up. I told Charlie he’s going to have to be more careful around you.”

In an hour, lunch rolled around and so did Fred and George who got a scolding for apparating right into the home. You learned that Fred’s imitation of Molly wasn’t far off. 

“What are you still doing here?” Fred asked with a genuine look of surprise on his face. 

“I’m not sure, Molly asked if I wanted to come for lunch.”

“How did this chance occurrence happen?”

“We bumped into her at Diagon Alley.”

Fred wiggled his eyebrows. “We?” 

You shrugged. 

Thankfully, you were ushered to the table before Fred could pester you anymore. Bill sat with Fleur, Fred with George, you and Charlie, and Molly at the end. The bread basket perched in the centre was bigger than your head.

“So, Charlie, dear,” Molly started. “What brings you back home?”

“Well,” Charlie responded. “As I was saying earlier—”

“Charlie’s going to meet (Y/N)’s parents next Saturday,” Fred added suddenly. 

“You’re going to the Malfoy’s?” Bill asked, directing a look of surprise at Charlie. Molly followed suit. 

You nearly sputtered into your stew. You hadn’t really discussed that nor had Charlie consented to it, at least not seriously. You figured he was just kidding about having dinner, and now that his appetite had been satiated, so was his curiosity. 

“Sure am,” Charlie responded after a long swig of water. He didn’t skip a beat. 

“You’ll have to find something suitable to wear,” Molly commented, looking Charlie up and down. Her inquisitive brown eyes narrowed at his dishevelled long hair and outfit that looked like he was going to bed rather than dinner. “I’m sure we can find something of your father’s or grandfather’s in the attic.”

“There goes the rest of my afternoon,” Charlie groaned loudly, much to Molly’s chagrin. Then, he leaned into you. “I hope you didn’t have plans for us, (Y/N).”

You shook your head. “I shouldn’t think about taking you away from something so important.”

The rest of lunch was filled with questions about Bill and Fleur’s impending baby and Fred and George’s business. Luckily, no questions were thrown towards you and Charlie. You wouldn’t even know what to say. When lunch was over, Charlie was the first to excuse himself. 

“That was a lovely lunch as always, mum,” Charlie said, getting up. “I’m going to unpack and maybe take a nap. It was a long journey from Romania.”

As he began to head up the stairs, Molly piped up: “Be sure to use Ginny’s room.”

Charlie descended a step back. “What about mine?”

“It’s under renovation.”

“You remodelled my room?” Charlie cried.

“As a temporary nursery. You can obviously still stay in the guest room the duration of time you’re here,” Molly clarified. 

“I won’t even fit into Ginny’s room, let alone the bed. And are the walls still pink?”

“Well, a fair warning that you’d be coming back would’ve been sufficient,” Molly said. “Bill was first to tell me that he and Fleur wanted to move back in for the duration of her pregnancy.”

“But why mine? Why not remodel Ginny’s room as the nursery?”

“Because yours is closest to Bill’s room,” Molly explained. “It provides easier access to the baby.”

“You can always stay with us, Charles darling,” Fred suggested, a grin dancing on his face. “We have a spare room in our flat that’s gone unused for some reason.”

“I’ll consider it as my dead last option,” Charlie said with a shudder. He jumped back on the first floor and ran past Fred, but not before commenting: “There are a million people I’d rather live with before I’d live with you.”

After Charlie left to unpack, Fred and George followed suit to reopen the shop. You lingered around the house for a while longer, offering to help with the dishes which was promptly refused. Instead, Molly gave you a tour of the new nursery, her eyes brimming with pride at her handiwork. And it really was a lovely room with white, flowy curtains billowing in the wind, a vintage wooden cot, and tons of hand sewn blankets and plush toys. You were glad she was so preoccupied with the baby and showing you around that she wasn’t asking about Charlie. 

“It’s beautiful, Mrs. Weasley,” you said, admiring the stitching on the curtains. “Bill and Fleur are lucky to have you alongside them.”

Molly placed a hand on her hip. “You know, dear, I would do it for any child of mine and their partner.”

You eked out a smile in response. You sure hoped she wasn’t insinuating anything about you. 

When you went downstairs, you decided it was proper for you to excuse yourself and head home. It was nearing three in the afternoon and you couldn’t believe how the hours just flew by. Before you left, you went to Ginny’s old room and knocked on the ajar door. 

“Come in,” Charlie said.

You stepped in slowly. Charlie was unfolding his clothes on Ginny’s old bed. He towered over the frame, and he’d be lucky if he could stretch out his legs tonight. Luckily for him, the walls were now a muted pink, not the bright shade they were years ago. 

“I’m about to leave,” you said. “I just wanted to apologise for today before I go. I’m sorry you got caught up in things.”

Charlie cocked an eyebrow. “What’s there to apologise for?” 

“The whole debacle with my father,” you clarified. “I never meant to get you involved. I don’t think well at the crux of an argument.”

“Why shouldn’t I be involved?”

Did Charlie sound offended?

“You want to be?”

“(Y/N),” Charlie said with a chuckle. “I’m always hungry. I’ll be there for the meal if not for the entertainment, or world-class Malfoy hospitality.”

“Are you serious?” you asked. “Because you understand what the deal was right? We’d have to be…” You bit your lip. You didn’t want to finish the sentence. 

“Like we’re dating? Was that so hard to get out now?” Charlie laughed, leaning in closer to you until he was a few inches from you. “I mean, you’re meeting my mum.”

“I’ve already met her, many times over,” you huffed. “And on that topic, don’t you think it’s wrong to lead her on like that?”

“Hey,” he said. “Don’t lecture me about ethics. You’re the one who just tried to swindle your father in public.”

You turned red. “My prospects were looking terrible.”

“Hey, I’m just kidding,” Charlie said. “I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

“Alright”—you eyed him suspiciously—“Well, if you’re sure, I’ll send you an owl.”

“You know exactly where I’ll be,” Charlie confirmed.

Before you turned away to leave, a sudden thought came to mind. “Charlie, wait. You never told me. Why are you back in England?”

“I really was banking up too much vacation,” he confessed, airing out a rolled t-shirt. “I was strong-armed into taking it, so I chose the off-season.”

“What are you going to do at home?”

He hummed. “I was cordially invited to be a guest professor at Hogwarts two days a week, depending on how often they need me.”

“That is splendid for you,” you said, eyes brightening. “Which classes will be taking over?”

“Just Care of Magical Creatures for now”—he turned fully to you—“I reckon I could sneak in a few dragons for the kids.”

“You wouldn’t,” you warned. “You were Head Boy, you knew the rules.”

“Try me, Headmaster Malfoy.”

He held your gaze, intense blue eyes locking with yours and a smirk rising on his face. For the briefest of moments, you felt a shudder course through your body. He wasn’t being suggestive, you had to remind yourself. Charlie was just more intense and smouldering than his brothers—

Wait, did you just use the word smouldering to describe Charlie? The Charlie Weasley you’d really just met six hours ago? You scolded yourself. You had to focus on the issue at hand. 

“I’ll try to wrangle a way out of dinner regardless,” you affirmed. “I have to free you up for your duties as a professor.”

He broke his gaze. “Let me know if you’re successful,” Charlie said with a laugh. “Catch you later, (Y/N).”

>> NEXT CHAPTER

&lt;;< CHAPTER DIRECTORY

[monstersdownthepath]

Monster Spotlight: Mamiwa

CR 2

Neutral Tiny Outsider

Module: Ire of the Storm, pg. 63

These adorable salamander-like creatures form within the hearts of massive rainstorms, birthed from the confluence of air and water elemental energy. They are curious, playful, excitable, and investigative as any puppy brought into a new home... but unfortunately for everyone involved, they love to frolic out in their birth storm, where their playful investigations--such as opening up doors, crawling into stormdrains and gutters, or pushing objects over--can cost people their homes or even their very lives as the Mamiwa unintentionally expose people to hurricane winds, flash floods, or bolts of lightning. Because so many of them are literally newborns during their initial "rampage," they do not yet have the ability to conceptualize consequences, or understand that the storms which birthed them are dangerous to most other forms of life.

This, unfortunately, means the majority of Mamiwa are sought out and destroyed, either as self-defense during the storm or by hunters afterwards who tire of its destructive antics. Unfortunately for everyone, these tiny lizards are quite capable of defending themselves; they have no true resistances or immunities beyond those conveyed by the Elemental subtype (which, granted, IS quite powerful defensively!), but they DO have both a formidable swim AND fly speed to keep them out of reach of most beings capable of killing their tiny, squishy selves in one round, like most adventuring parties. They also have enough offense to perhaps get attackers to reconsider, capable of using an Elemental Blast as a ranged touch attack to deal 2d6 Cold or Electricity damage.

If you're wondering why it's "or," that's because every dawn the Mamiwa selects Air or Water, which determines its Elemental Alignment for the day. An Air-aligned salamander gains 5 points of Electricity resistance, its blast deals Electric damage, and gains the ability to speak and understand Auran. Water-aligned is all about Cold, gaining 5 resistance, dealing Cold damage with its blast, and learns Aquan instead. Regardless of its alignment, it remains Vulnerable to Fire, so any creature capable of wielding flames can quickly put the little lizards on the back foot.

... Provided, of course, that it's not raining. Y'know, like from the storm they were born in? It gets a lot harder to use mundane OR magic fire during a storm for entirely different reasons (rainfall and concentration checks, respectively), which in a way sort of gives the illusion of a parent shielding its child from harm. Cute! And have another cute fact: Mamiwa can telepathically speak with any creature within 100ft so long as both creatures are caught in the same rain, though this doesn't have to be the same storm that birthed the creature. Rain Speaker triggers in ANY rain, even if that rain is summoned!

Despite their destructive potential, they're not Evil or even particularly Chaotic. Any creature with the will and ability to speak with the creatures can often steer them away from their more ruinous shenanigans, especially if the spirits are informed of the danger they pose to the beings they're trying to investigate. Take care to treat them like you would any child tearing its way into the home of an animal without regard (or reason to consider) the animal's safety... and remember that this child has a preposterously effective taser at one end.

Diffusing the difficult situation without bloodshed can earn you more than just EXP, though. Mamiwa are unstable from the day they're born, needing to spend minutes a day in stasis to weave their forms back together and stay whole, and if they become too damaged, their very being may unravel back into elemental energy even if they're healed. They primarily avoid this by fusing themselves into objects with shreds of elemental energy or association with an element, such as fans or ships, but they can also avoid this by attuning themselves with a 7th level caster and become a Familiar, the arcane bond permanently stabilizing them so long as their bonded caster remains alive.

Not only does a caster get an effective translator and a mini elemental cannon, but they can use the Mamiwa's ability to fuse with manmade objects to grand an item an Elemental Infusion! This powerful ability lets the salamander slip into any weapon or armor it's adjacent to for upwards to 3 minutes a day (more if it has more HD; it can split this into minute-long chunks too). Depending on the little lizard's Elemental Alignment, an infused piece of gear gains resistance to Cold or Electricity and grants its wearer the same resistance if it's infusing armor! If it's infused into a weapon, the weapon deals an extra 1d6 points of Cold or Electricity damage, stacking with any enchantments the weapon already has. I feel like I should also point out that if you happen to be wearing armor spikes, you get both sides of the infusion.

Mamiwa are unharmed if the object they're infusing is destroyed (though they do become staggered), allowing some potentially clever plays with thrown alchemy weapons, but that feels like a waste; what martial character would say no to an extra 1d6 elemental damage on their weapon attacks? That kind of bonus only gets better as you level up and gain more attacks!

The Mamiwa is not only useful for the bonded caster themselves, but their martial allies! To say nothing of what it can do for a Magus... And all you have to do to secure one is NOT kill the critter that electrocuted a guard when they tried to stop it from blasting down some poor couple's door!

You can read more about them here.

[sphnyspinspin]

Anybody else ever just think about a toddler, whose parent works with the Transformers? And in a very not-so-rare instance, something came up to where the parent wasn’t present, and the 3-5 year old had one of their parent’s coworkers, specifically the giant metal ones, take care of them for the night?

Then the child has a nightmare or misses their parent so much, that they start loudly sobbing in the middle of the night, to where the others can’t recharge. For this specific situation let’s say a responsible, maybe grumpy, by-the-book bot took the necessary precautions before being able to properly care for the child. Even if it was just for one night. And I don’t know…was the first one to get up and deal with the situation accordingly.

A small, weak, chubby, organic child was in their makeshift bed/sleeping bag/air mattress, and they were absolutely bawling their little eyes out - it was heartbreaking. So, in this situation the big bot was just three feet into the room, slowly making their way towards the child; meanwhile looking through the “Distressed Child” section of the multiple parenting books they’ve acquired, and they kept listing all these highly informative step-by step processes on how to calm down a very stressed out and very upset mini-human.

All of a sudden, the toddler reaches out to the bigger bot, making a grabbing motion with one hand and in the other was a stuffed toy and a blanket. The bot looked down at them, and suddenly the books seemed too complicated for this kind of situation, because the longer the bot looked at the books, the more the child cried, which wasn’t doing anyone any favors. Considering it looked as though the books were trying to parent a plethora of different kinds of kids, rather than helping the reader focus on the child right in front of them.

And so, the bot or con closed all their tabs from their screen, and they came into closer proximity to the helpless little human, whose face was covered in snot and tears. By doing so, the baby reached further out, and the bot has actually recognized this behavior before when their human co-worker would bring their kid to work, and it seemed as though they wanted - what did they call it? Uppies? When one proceeds as follows…

The huge bot, bigger than the child’s entire school, hesitantly cupped their servos around their fragile, shaking body and brought them up as carefully as possible to their chest. And just as the bot gently settled one palm underneath them, with the other servo spread across the back in a caressing manner, the sobbing was beginning to slowly fade.

With a few more soft pats from the bot, that could barely count as pats with how gentle they were being, the feeble organic being began to fall back into slumber. Finding the sound of their new friend’s spark beat incredibly soothing, almost if it was a special lullaby made just for them.

And let’s just say, the bot didn’t have the spark in them to set them back down after they became so still, yet so active with their breathing cycle. Not to mention the most blessed burp that came from the chubby life-form that would leave any known being in the universe in an absolute state of euphoria.

In the morning, the rest of the crew found one of the most strict bots on base laying flat against their spinal strut on the ground with the mini-version of one of their co-worker’s - entirely engulfed in both palms of the bot, still sleeping ever so soundly.

[danddymaro]

Working Together | Leone Abbacchio x Reader

Basically, Bucciarati ships the Abbacchio and the reader.

Word Count : 1086

Working Together

You grumbled incoherent obscenities as you stared down at your wine glass, your lips pursed as you narrowed your sight down at the plum-colored few sips that waited for you. 

'I can't stand him...' 

"That asshole.." you finally say with a huff that drops your shoulders low before you reach for your drink and decide to finish what's left. 

But even your favorite brand tasted bitter. 

Everything felt lackluster. 

"Why do I even care about him," you say as you continue to stare down at the glass. The few drops that had clung to the glass had already sunken down to the bottom of the container, forming just the smallest amount left over. 

And you eyed the dark drink with a half-hearted glare. 

"he doesn't even respect me one bit," you say to yourself, reminding yourself of every little backhanded comment he's made since you first met, the freshest moment coming to mind and making you shiver with annoyance. 

"- I don't need her around," Abbacchio said while shaking his head.

He sounded displeased at the idea of having you join him, the mere suggestion making him frown deeply. 

Even if you couldn't see him, you could only imagine the downturn on his painted lips, and that deep V that was painted on his forehead now was also imagined clearly.

"It's never a bad idea to have some backup," Bucciarati insisted, though he said so with a somewhat sly manner, something you took as simple teasing given how often Leone refused to pair with anyone else. 

While Abbacchio was easy to annoy, only Bruno had the privilege of doing so without much retaliation, and he took advantage of it with a few light pushes here and there. 

"-Then why don't you join me instead," the long-haired man said with a short, tired sigh, "I'd rather have you there," he added, and the dark-haired male offered him a subtle smile in return.

"I'm flattered," Bruno started, "Though, If you recall, I'm going to look into that florist's request..." he trailed off, pensive over the situation. 

"So, You think there's anything to look into?" Leone says with mild uncertainty, knowing that as a grieving parent, it would be hard to accept your own child took their life.

At the end of the day, it could just be nothing but a grieving parent's sorrow operating. 

"Something tells me there is," Bruno insists, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. 

"Now back to the topic at hand, Mista and Fugo are coming with me, and Narancia has been assigned elsewhere. 

It seems that his stand is the only one that is needed, which leaves just you and (f/n)," he added.

"And I want you two, to stick together, " He said firmly.  

The plan makes Abbacchio's brows furrow, his entire expression soured, 

" Just let me go on my own," he huffs. 

He slowly closes his eyes as he shakes his head, " I'm capable enough," he says. 

"I never said you weren't," Bucciarati mentions, " I only stated that it'd be in your best interest to have someone watch your back. 

I'd suggest that to anyone on our team," he explains with a soft smile, encouraging his friend to simply comply. 

The long-haired man sighed softly as he looked down at the ground, "You're really testing me here, aren't you?" he asked with slow defeat.

"Perhaps," Bruno said simply, " But tell me; What would be the difference between having me join you, and having her tag along as a safety precaution?" Bruno asks with a raised brow, leaving the other man silent. 

A small pause falls between them before Leone clicks his teeth, his softening expression growing dark quickly. 

"I don't have to worry about you," he says irked. " I can focus on the mission and not babysitting," he starts off, and you bite your tongue to not say anything as you hide around the corner.

That, that was the issue. 

If it were anyone else, it wouldn't be so personal. 

He'd just begrudgingly agree were it anyone else, but with you, there was always a 'but,' and more often than not it was that ; 

That he doubted your capabilities.

" I'm not partnering up with a liability," he states firmly, and you have to crane your head back to stare at the ceiling to try and suck in a long breath through your nose instead of letting out a furious screech. 

fiercely, you continue to bite down on your tongue as you continue to listen. 

"Oh?" Bucciarati sounds as he stares at Abbacchio with skepticism, and he peers into the other man's eyes whilst taking a step closer, " a liability?" he repeats, and the second time the woman hears it, it stings just as much. 

It hurts to hear it from Bucciarati, even if he was just repeating the word.

 You push yourself off of the wall and decide to go back out into the dining area of the restaurant, aiming straight for your usual table to sit. 

"As if I'd go anywhere with him," you grumble as you order a glass of wine, something soothing till, eventually Bucciarati comes to you and tells you to join Abbacchio. 

All the while, Bruno continued to pester Abbacchio, chuckling too, "That can't possibly be what you wanted to say, right?" he asked the other man. 

"It's exactly what I meant, " Leone grumbled, taking a step back, aiming to leave, but lingering long enough he's stopped before he could go further. 

Bruno placed a hand on his friend's shoulder before speaking, 

"Just because you can't properly focus, doesn't mean that she's to blame."

Leone could feel his ears burn. It's seconds before his entire expression is falling, yet hidden as it is obscured by long, light-colored strands. 

"Meaning...?" he could hardly speak. 

His throat felt dry and he had to swallow hard to try and feel something travel down his throat. 

He could only spit out that single word.

"Exactly what I meant my friend," the dark-haired male mused as he sauntered away, searching for you. 

"I'll be on my way now, but before I go, I'll make sure to speak to her so she's brought to speed. -

-Be sure to brief her on the mission for me, please?" Bruno asked coyly, leaving no room for opposition. 

"Oh...and Abbacchio," he said as he turned back one last time, "Figure it out, and soon," he advised. 

" You two make an excellent pair..."

[utmvarchive]

Mobtale: a summary.

As seen before with Underfell, some UNDERTALE iterations could be better described as a whole category of AUs with similar traits. Such is the case with "Mobtale," or Mobstertale, wherein the common threads are that while monsterkind was never banished from fresh air, tensions with humankind have persisted to the point of monsters forming gangs to get by, and either the 2010s still maintain the style of the so-called "Prohibition Era" or the entire 2010s population is set back ~80-90 years.

While Mobtales can be distinguished from Undernovela by cultural differences between transatlantic USA and Latin America, Mobtales can also be distinguished from each other by monsters' jobs, dealings and relationship with humans.

Take, for example, "UT Mob AU" where human children had been experimented upon by adults to incite tensions between humans and monsters. The children were meant to be taken in by monsters as Trojan horses, and then triggered to collect their monster SOULs. Asgore and Toriel had lost their son this way, not knowing what had been done to Chara. W.D. Gaster had been researching how to rehabilitate Frisk and others before them, and Alphys was entrusted with continuing their treatment plans after his passing, but his brothers Sans and Papyrus, who used to work for Toriel but now work for Asgore, unknowingly intercepted a delivery when they found Frisk in a crate.

They did not recognize Frisk as a human but saw they wore a dog tag, which said FRISK. 349-550-0 C-TEST, so the brother nicknamed them "Little Pup" or "Lil Pup." As much as Toriel wanted to take over upon seeing Sans' and Papyrus' inexperience at childcare, she compromised that she'd help the two provide for them since Lil Pup took a liking to staying with the two at their abandoned warehouse.

Sans began investigating in secret, but after there'd been a failed attempt to mug Papyrus at knife-point, Lil Pup later attacked Sans with a knife. Papyrus intercepted and diffused the situation, and Lil Pup would not remember this incident, but Sans was still wary. He tried once to return them to the humans, with Temmies to lead the way, but he couldn't follow through when Lil Pup cried for him. So he took them back home, committing to his and Papyrus' responsibility for the child, and resumed his investigation.

Alphys would tell him everything when it led him back to her, but word about the "pup" had reached Asgore through Undyne, at which point he put out a dead-or-alive capture order. Sans intercepted the dog monsters, but Papyrus intercepting Undyne set Lil Pup off and Sans would take them both elsewhere before they could take Papyrus' SOUL. In the following struggle, Sans stole Frisk's SOUL as they were stealing his, and in the panic to preserve Frisk's, the two's SOULS osmosed to a degree before Sans Frisk's body would accept theirs back.

After this incident, Alphys was able to explain the situation to Asgore, and he called off the headhunt.

...In the case of "Undermafia," Sans and Papyrus work for W.D. Gaster, who in turn refers to Frisk as "young boss." The Skeleton Family was entrusted with the human's care when Asriel died and Toriel feared what Asgore would do after their separation. W.D. Gaster especially took a liking to Frisk, while Sans' motives are more financial and Papyrus is a reluctant but proficient sniper.

Meanwhile, in "UT Gangster AU," Sans and Papyrus, fronting as an Italian diner alongside Grillby, work for Toriel after the loss of Asriel motivated Asgore to found their gang. Asgore remains the gang's public face and Undyne acts as underboss, usually with Sans on diversion duty and Papyrus as the getaway driver. This... frequently means that Sans lets the police target him for brutal physical abuse. He does not give them the satisfaction of seeing how much they're hurting him, but he does not tell the gang what he endures for his them either, which has forced Papyrus to feign ignorance around Sans' secrets. Depending on where else alterations have been made, this AU especially could also suggest that staying on the surface has allowed monsters to emulate more physical matter– enough to bleed. Because this Sans has. Often.

As seen above, another major disctinction between Mobtales is custody of Frisk. Frisk is Asgore and Toriel's formally-adopted child in both Undernovela and Undermafia, but in UT Gangster AU they were not taken in permanently until after they tried turning Frisk in as a runaway, only for them to return to the Dreemurr family; and in UT Mob AU, it was Sans and Papyrus who adopted Frisk, being the two who found them. This is the more overt differentiation.

To understand a more subtle difference for telling apart Mobtales by their Frisks, it must first be understood that as organic lifeforms, humans have historically related identities and social designations to their external tissues, such as how adults use some of these traits to assign genders to newborns, assign social roles to genders and maintain social pressure to follow these birth assignments even into adulthood. By 201X, more human societies have begun phasing out these gender roles, but Mobtales take after a time period several decades earlier.

This may give context for the variations in Frisk's presentation between Mobtales. In UT Mob AU, they were never forced to follow this practice under the care of monsters, whereas in UT Gangster AU, they'd gotten in frequent trouble for mixing gendered school uniforms until they were homeschooled. And in Undermafia, Frisk is what other humans would call a tomboy, addressing herself as a girl while dressing more like the men and boys of the time. This could be due to the underdeveloped vernacular of the era's mainstream or to fundamental differences in her sense of identity.

...Come to think of it, I don't know whether or not assignment should also go on the list of alterations. Back in my timeline, it never came up before I ▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢, and I had no reason to review our Frisk's personal data when I went looking for □□□□.

[aspd-culture]

Contributing to the conversation, I think it’s, I’m gonna be honest, more likely that emotional abuse would boost the chances of aspd forming because children as a demographic are routinely gaslit, emotionally abused, dehumanized, and treated as property both by their caregivers (be they family, guardians, or teachers) or peers (other kids in school). Being dehumanized routinely as a child and thinking this is all you are to others, it would make sense that being on the receiving end of ‘antisocial treatment’ (as in, things that would prohibit social camaraderie and communal relations) would contribute to an antisocial mindset that persists in life.

Aspd is very specifically also a heavy impulse-based disorder too, underdeveloped frontal lobe and prolonged emotional trauma before the healthy development of that lobe that manages impulse control in social settings met with emotional abuse, it’s probably also why a lot of kids who do develop aspd could also end up with an exception for the person who treated them like a person but one person obviously cannot offset All of the damage the rest of their environment caused. I think aspd is perhaps somewhat more underdiagnosed *because* people don’t provide a lot of support to pwaspd when they’re adults because the adult with aspd has so thoroughly alienated themselves through their disorder that people just don’t care if they get help or communal care. Because it’s easier to just let pwaspd fall through the cracks because they’re “evil” and “don’t deserve it”.

So now you have someone who has spent their entire lives being proven left and right that they’re not cared about so “why the fuck should they care about anyone else, care is obviously conditional on my behavior and even when I mask, I’m not good enough”. Anyways, yeah, I absolutely think prolonged emotional abuse is absolutely a valid and understandable cause of aspd when we look at how we treat kids.

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

Plain text below the cut:

On the one hand, there is a lot here I completely agree with, but I do have some points I feel there is more to/have some nuance/etc.

So yeah, absolutely agree that emotional abuse seems a much more likely culprit for the development of ASPD than others (assuming of course that we're putting these in a vacuum, because realistically most children suffering other types of abuse likely experience emotional abuse as well. Not arguing with that at all. The reasons you mention here all make a lot of sense to me, and I want to add that one known to be a big one is teasing; many researchers believe that specific experience is very damaging to a child at risk of developing ASPD. Part of that is what you mentioned - the gaslighting and general disregard for the trauma teasing can cause and the hurt associated with it makes the child feel like they will not be protected in other situations. Because the child doesn't see this the way the adults do - as something "trivial", unimportant, and incomparable to "real" trauma - they don't realize that the adults involved would respond differently to other types of pain. They just believe, given their experience, that the adults will always minimize and disregard the problems they come to them with and therefore do not bother to ask for the help they know they won't get in the future. This creates the need to be self-sufficient and protect yourself and, without intervention from adults, the ways to do that are limited and generally either violent or manipulative. Children dealing with any type of disregard for their problems may also learn that they can manipulate the adults into reacting the way they need them to - a seemingly helpless, caring, "gentle", naïve, etc. child will get more help than the average one - and take that as a normal part of life.

I'd argue that dehumanization is less related to ASPD personally, not in that it can't be but in that it isn't a specific risk factor. Generally, that dehumanization of children is universal not pointed, and the child will see that children are treated like this, but adults are not, and that will stick in their development as it does to all children. The things that are generally considered large risk factors for ASPD's development are things that lead the child to believe will be a problem their entire life, and therefore their brain develops to tolerate that. An example here is that all children deal with restrictions and rules older children and adults do not have, and cannot do things older children and adults can do. They see this and rather than learn it as an issue with society, they simply become impatient to grow up. Dehumanization is a serious trauma that arguably most kids deal with, and it needs to be addressed and fixed for the good of children as a whole, but I don't think it specifically lends itself to ASPD if that is the only kind of emotional abuse the child is dealing with (again, putting these things in unrealistic vacuums for the purpose of this conversation). Now there is a MAJOR exception to this:

Dehumanization that goes to demonization absolutely is a heavy risk factor for ASPD. If you treat a child like they are all bad, or even actually call them a demon/devil/terror/etc. frequently and consistently enough, especially if they hear you doing it behind their back to other people, then they will take that in as a part of their identity. Children don't understand the fluidity of identity, which is why their current interest will always become their favorite thing, their answer to "what do you want to be when you grow up" will be intense and certain yet change every few days/weeks, etc. so when you identify them as a bad kid or worse, then they will behave that way because they think that is what they are supposed to be. This attempt at correcting a child's behavior generally leads against its own goal and makes the child believe you *want* them to be bad because that is what you told them they are. But the general dehumanization of children is honestly an overall societal problem and considering how low the prevalence of ASPD is (even accounting for under-diagnosis), I think it's probably not a leading factor. That's just personal opinion though, a good portion of my response to this ask is.

It's really important to me that we address the belief that impulse control issues are inherent to and a major part of ASPD, because that genuinely is not the case. While it is a part of the diagnostic criteria, I'd like to point out that only 3/7 of those need to apply, and impulse control doesn't need to be one of them. Allow me to explain why this is important to me before anyone writes off this please, because this one actually is not opinion based. ASPD is well known to be a disorder heavily based on trauma in the overwhelming majority of cases - purely genetic ASPD without any trauma exists but is not common at all afaik. Discussing the majority who are traumatized, it's important to note that a lot of types of trauma *do not allow for impulse control issues*, at the expense of the child's safety and emotional/physical wellbeing. It is dangerous for a child dealing with trauma bad enough to cause a personality disorder to not be able to control themselves, and part of what ASPD is is a means of self-preservation in the face of a seemingly hostile, dangerous, and uncaring world/society. Thus the symptoms we see in ASPD - aggression, defensiveness, self-sufficiency, distrust of others, manipulation, lying, charisma, etc etc etc - are things that would have kept the child safer and get them ahead. For the children who were at risk if they were not able to control impulses, that symptom has quite a low chance of developing. Therefore, I don't think it's fair to say that that is an inherent part of ASPD. Our understanding of the neurology of ASPD is also very undeveloped - all research of ASPD up to and including current has been and continues to be biased and ableist, specifically mostly including inmates imprisoned for long sentences due to violent crimes, especially extreme ones and repeat offenders. This is naturally going to lead to the idea that ASPD is always or almost always associated with poor impulse control - because your average person with ASPD is not going to be included in these studies to get an accurate representation. Until we do get a largely unbiased understanding of ASPD, I don't think we can decisively say anything about the neurology of it, and I've seen several researchers and mental health professions alike agree with the idea that we don't know anything conclusive about that at this point for various reasons, including admittedly the lack of cooperative response many pwASPD would give a study like that.

I also have some notes on the issue of underdiagnosis, because I think it's based in a similar concept to what you said, but for the opposite reason. The people most likely to be diagnosed with ASPD are ostracized and isolated, as far as I've seen. The problem with underdiagnosis really comes in with the opposite type of ASPD which may well be the majority. That is the people who have crafted a seemingly normal adjustment to life and society - people who have friends (whether they're actual friends or just a front to seem normal), have healthy or at least long-term relationships of some variety, seem caring and kind, and are generally either well-liked or at least have no more effect on the people around them than neutral. It's not the ones who have been mistreated and openly get dismissed as bad and evil even into adulthood who don't get diagnosed, it's those of us who *don't* fit that stereotype. It's something a lot of us fight tooth and nail to get people to understand; I'm aware I seem empathetic and caring but that is both possible for pwASPD to learn to be and possible to fake. It is that dismissal and demonization of pwASPD that leads to diagnosis - but not from the people being demonized or dismissed by society.

All in all I don't entirely disagree with any point you make here and I think all of it is an important piece of the discussion of the risk factors of ASPD, but I think this understanding is missing a good amount too.

[belit0]

HI CUTIE PATOOTIE

what would Madara and Izuna be like with a little sister?:D

HIIIIIII!!!!!!!💫💕

I didn't name the Uchiha sister because I thought it would be fun to see your opinions and decide based on what you propose, so let me know what you think!!!🛐👀

- The protective brothers' squadron (in different forms and sizes).

- Madara is seven years older and Izuna is three years older.

- The younger Uchiha sister is a combination of Izuna and Madara, with Izuna's fatal beauty and Madara's terrible character. Her hair is a rare mix of the two.

- Madara always was and always will be the mama bird (which also applies to Izuna, but this one always escapes from his overprotective brother), keeping her in his field of vision and making sure she's okay, that no one unwanted approaches her, that nothing happens to her.

- As a child, he didn't allow her to play with anyone he didn't know, only with her older siblings, and perhaps some Uchiha children who were strictly close to him. Madara shouldered the responsibility of ensuring a peaceful life for her.

- As she grows up, it becomes impossible for him to constantly have her by his side. Eventually, his sister discovers the world and all its wonders. While he can protect her from many factors, in some situations he must let her fly.

- Both older brothers were always opposed to her participation in the war, but they could not fight against Tajima's word and verdict. As soon as their father passed away, they had the perfect opportunity to shield and disengage her from the conflict, shelter her and ensure her well-being.

- Madara is reassured by the fact she always has Izuna by her side when she goes out or does new things, his other younger brother assigning himself as her chaperone and making sure to accompany her everywhere. Madara has to take care of an entire clan, he can no longer play babysitter.

- Izuna, while also protective, is a bad influence. He is the first one who urges her to sneak out at night to see a boyfriend, who makes her try alcohol, who shows her what nightlife is all about.

- While he leads her to experiment with many things, he always makes sure to be with her when she does, to help her if something doesn't go right, to contain her if she doesn't like the situation, to be there for her.

- He pushes away any idiot man who wants to approach her with bad intentions, and ensures his presence intimidates the whole environment so as not to fight anyone. Usually, everyone knows she's his little sister, but if some misguided guy mistakes her for his girlfriend, it works for him too. Having them think they're a couple helps with keeping stupid people away.

- Izuna doesn't treat her like a baby just like Madara, letting her be free but always under his wing, let her try everything she wants but in his company and presence. Madara is a suffocating overprotector, who doesn't let her breathe or do anything, afraid that something might happen to her.

- Both strictly forbid her to get close to any Senju, and do not allow her to bond with any of them until the village is formed. She doesn't have much of a problem with this as she grew up fighting against them, and finds it hard to see Madara's vision of peace, teaming up with Izuna against him.

- Growing up as a child of the war provided her with early training to defend and take care of herself as a strong and independent woman (despite Madara's fanaticism for always having her in his range of vision).

- Although she loses her participation in the conflict when her father dies, she never stops practicing, helping her brothers to advance in combat and keeping herself up to date as well. She didn't feel bad about Tajima forcing her to fight, a part of her always missing assassinating Senjus.

[malzykins]

GIVES US THE VOID HAND FREAKS LORE!!! (You dont have to if you dont want to)

OH BOY. well with a nice little request like that how can i say no 😇 

HUGE preface that this is very AU-heavy because. like I got no beef with the actual canon but I just want to play around with my favourite characters like little dollies if that is okay. :]

To even get to the freaks though we do have to start at the beginning of this for it all to make even a lick of sense and to me anyway it feels like a lot.. warning not one centimeter of this is without some form of mental degradation and shameless self-indulgence (<- failing to cope with the lasting effects of cringe culture)

absolutely MASSIVE text post belo im dead serious:

Nothing much really differs from the origin of the Operator/Drifter themselves, all the Zariman shit still happens etc. Operator was kind of a bastard child (shes 12 most of them are, but i digress LOL), very much the kinda person to stick their nose in everyone’s business and try to “fix” all their problems if she thought something could be gained from it (sound familiar?), be it a compensation from the people themselves or from her seniors getting basically surface-level information about it all and being like aww what a good kid!! and gassing her up with all this praise. Most other kids definitely knew what she was doing, or at least didnt like her or the vibe she put off, but it didnt really stop her cause that’s not whose opinion she necessarily cared about the most.

When the Zariman incident happened, her ENTIRE support group became her enemy and she was left with nothing. She got her just desserts alright and it broke her, like really broke her, like watching a spoiled brat finally get what’s coming to em and she genuinely did like a total heel-turn in terms of personality temperament etc. She became a lottt more prone to acting childish and favoured emotional outbursts over rational thinking, since she didnt have her people that she looked up to anymore, she didnt have her Glue so to speak. She went from main character syndrome to acting how a 12 year old would probably realistically act in a fr life-or-death scenario overnight

Being a child in a traumatizing situation she latched onto really anything she could get. any distraction. desperately wanting something or someone to trust. so when that damnable doppelganger shows its face, behaving exactly how she used to behave towards other kids (not that she had the self-awareness to deduce that at the time), she instantly ate from the hand that feeds. And there was that :)

Nothing strays from canon between this point and the First Dream. Shes still very much a petulant crybaby and kind of sucks at being a Tenno but thats neither here nor there,, in the Dream, though, is when things start to REALLY deviate.

During the years of war and strife and child-soldier-ism with everyone else, she had a lot of time to think. Shes well aware that all this void power shit wasnt possible before their time on the Zariman, and as far as she was aware she was pretty certain that didnt change the moment they boarded. Over time she fights the memory suppression of her traumas to dig up answers and narrows it right down to that moment she shook hands with herself, something clearly odd and nonsensical, now viewing it with a bit more clarity of mind and basically coming to the epiphany of Oh You Motherfucker. theres no way it was not you. theres no way ALL OF THIS (the existence of the tenno and by extension their eventual drafting into the war, and all of the bullshit that follows that) was not because of you. And when they get told that theyre all going to be put into a cryosleep, because theyre more trouble than theyre worth, really, to just to give everyone around them more peace of mind well. shes quite upset about it. She and other kids definitely try to fight their way out of it (they dont make it far) and rest assured theres no shortness of bawling and sobbing, but deep in there there is anger. She starts to get real pissed off about this whole ordeal and honestly just fucking everything that has lead to it, that piece of her old self that had the capacity for rage and ambition bubbling through the surface.

When she was placed into the First Dream, that quickly manifested well outside of her control. She herself was entirely lacking in conscience, but that essence of herself that existed just beyond her own grasp, that metaphorical spirit that whatever youd want to call it, began to fester in some crevice deep in the Void, not having truly left the place after the events of the Zariman unfolded. It festered and festered and grew until every horrible negative emotion that she Could Not experience in her current state snapped free and went on a violent witch hunt for exactly who the hell made her this way and WHEN she found It, that manifestation didnt relent in the slightest as it quite literally beat the absolute ever-loving dogshit out of the Indifference and (taking some of the various Murmur codex entries very literally) lashed its very flesh apart like a goddamn. kindergarten art project.

Once all of her anger was spent and she realized that didnt actually fix any of her problems, and the bastard was busy reeling for a while because, what in the fuck was all that about, she was left just a lonely, sad empty husk. And because of the Void’s receptivity with negative emotion, it did something with that, taking those lacerated fragments and turning them into something greater, turning them into companions to fill that lonely gap, into the Murmur. they are very No Thoughts creatures and dont understand what existence really is, and like most freshly borned creatures they imprint on the first thing they see (the Indifference) though they know at least the smell of who ultimately made them and are constantly chasing that trail to find the source (hence their appearance in reality in the albrecht labs because we dont really Know in canon what theyre looking for in there exactly (afaik) so I’m justttt rewriting that. for me 😇)

Once they inevitably have their cool reunion or whatever (which takes place a lot sooner than the normal story progression, I just am not sure on where to put a pin) Operator latches onto them just as much as they latch onto her, their Maker, and she ends up neglecting a lot of her responsibilities to just run and play with the little freaks all day ^-^ which really pisses off the Drifter. and makes HER take up the Operator’s mantle, a good chunk of the normal questline being done by her instead.

NOW. for what you ACTUALLY asked for. Im so sorry 😭

THESE three bastards: Prodah, Nahkip, Vedah, in that order. In this little AU thing, Murmur fragments have this little bit of individuality to them in the form of those lighter blue stripes or “veins”, which are more like indentations in their skin that faintly glow with their Void energy. The more a fragment has or the more unique they are, the more respected the individual is in a sort of innate social hierarchy system. If a fragment is born with no veins whatsoever, if they are unmarred and “perfect” so to speak, they are essentially bullied and outcasted to some unloved corner of the Great Indifference to wallow alone, and for a faction all about unity and working together that isnt very nice. :)

Vedah and Nahkip are the two I probably have the least juice for. Not that I dont like them (far from it) I just have yet to reeeeally get to them ;; I at LEAST have personalities and such down

Vedah is like a curious naive little dog. It’s very erratic and jumpy and is more often a follower than a leader. It loves games but gets bored easily, and loves trying to make friends. It definitely makes the most racket out of the three, big chatterbox this one (I love the sounds the fragments make... they are such screechy little creatures it's soooo cute)

Nahkip is probably the most “normal” out of them. It doesn’t vocalize often and carries itself in a bit of a high regard (not necessarily in a conceited way, moreso it is aware that it is of a somewhat higher caliber than most and incidentally behaves as such). It’ll politely listen to others and offer input when it’s spoken to, but once all is said and done, it returns to pretending you don’t exist, going about its own business.

Prodah, the last fellow, is (was?) one of those unfortunate veinless souls. It often found itself a victim of many fights, and it quickly learned that trying to defend itself only made matters substantially worse. In one particularly nasty scenario, its ring and pinky finger were completely snapped off by an attacker and ground to dust. It tried to fight its way out of exile often, but eventually succumbed to the hand it’d been dealt, fleeing to some unaccompanied outcropping overlooking the Void.

Vedah found it, eventually, having sniffed it out and tracked it from where it hid buried in the sand for god knows. Prodah of course, very angry and scared and traumatized all at once, didnt take too kindly to the ordeal, but Vedah’s “people skills” and a rare instance of patience helped bring the guy just enough out of its shell to at least stop regressing into fight-or-flight everytime it (Vedah) moved :] Still VERY skittery and non-trusting. just a bit more… tolerable.

Vedah and Nahkip are friends. or. at least Vedah sees it that way. Nahkip tolerates it but could really give or take. Vedah always wants to show around its new friends to its current friends, and Prodah is not an exception even if it really should be (hence the naivety; you can’t “look guys it’s cool dont be mean okay :D” your way out of everything girl)

LUCKILY Nahkip seems to not gaf. At least not in a bad way. No it actually definitely gaf because it’s been ages since it’s last seen a veinless fragment still kicking around (esp since there is essentially no reproduction of these creatures, whatever exists is all that will ever be (unless MITW feels like getting flayed again. for some reason) so once you’re killed or whatever it’s gg) and is very surprised that one is still alive, figured over time it should have just gone feral and torn itself apart from insanity or decomposed on its own, but it didn’t. and Nahkip is a bit of a studious fellow. so it is very interested in this creature.

There isn’t too much coherent lore after this.. lots of bits and bobs and meat and potatoes but not the most fleshed-out explanation for it all? At some point the three become close enough with one another (maybe more spiritually than anything, cause it likely isn’t so apparent from an outside perspective) that they form a Severed Warden like some sort of Digimon evolution or whatever 😇 There is some large gap of time where the Operator does not see them, the entire Prodah arc happening under her nose so when she next greets them they are together as the Warden and shes so proud of em ;; she doesnt really understand how it happened/works but she knows Vedah and Nahkip are in there and they do their best to introduce Prodah to her. After some coaxing it uncurls itself to meet her and she's absolutely appalled to see a friend in such a sorry state (being a Warden didn’t heal old scars), and figured that wasn’t any way for someone to live. so she removes her gloves and gently holds its hand in her own Void-corrupted ones (that I’m sure most Operators have anyway; shes extremely self-conscious about people seeing them but the Murmur are similar to her, in a way, so with them she relents) to offer that connection and comfort with it. In the same motion, some transfer of power takes place and after a brief moment, Prodah finds itself whole again with two new fingers to replace its lost ones, brimming with the light of Void energy. IN TURN, though, not such is without consequence, the Operator now missing those exact same digits that Prodah initially lacked. She quite literally gave it her own (which is why its lighter-colored fingers in the image do not have the standard issue Murmur claws. also this throws the Indifference for a loop because ??? bastard child I gave you that for YOU. not for you to just give handouts to thralls 😐). This is a complete heel turn for Prodah because while it was initially a perfect, veinless creature and demonized to all hell and back.. to receive marks from the Maker itself??? WILDLY different story. Okay we respect you now. like a lot. like A LOT a lot.

I absolutely had plans to include The Fragmented One in my little repertoire of creatures as well :3c For this I’m going to pull directly from my brief lore document instead of just reiterating what is perfectly fine to copy-paste instead, if no one minds:

“To make an example for the Operator, the Drifter assists Loid in secret in purging the Laboratories of Murmur presence, but ends up slaying the Warden of Vedah, Nahkip, and Prodah in the process. The Operator’s heartrending grief at their passing draws uneasiness from the Indifference itself, and her dormant, volatile energy involuntarily wrenches forth their fragments from the afterlife, as if they had never perished at all (this is unknown to her; her döppelganger is the one to impart this information, yet not knowledge of their whereabouts). She dedicates restless hours to searching for them, neglecting her own health, too nerve-wracked to properly eat or sleep. It is after a week’s passing that the Operator discovers an odd formation within The Great Indifference and, upon touching its surface, the structure breathes in new life, lost fragments rising from beneath the sand to create the One. Upon spotting Vedah, Nahkip, and Prodah atop the bow of the amalgamation, she becomes overjoyed at their revivification, triggering a transference of power between them; the Operator’s Void energy unknowingly begins to bleed over into the One, a deadly power donation creating an impossibly cataclysmic entity with capabilities yet to be measured. In anointment, the Operator honorably dubs the creature Fronrein—’tandem roar’—and it is forever at her beck and call.”

this Fragmented One is no stronger than the one you face normally. I just wanted to squeeze in something for my lore that could possibly explain why that fucker is SO god damn brutal in Steel Path.

Lastly (thank Christ right), something I haven’t yet fully fleshed out is that I want to pull the consciousness of the main fragments into the Operator’s warframes. Likely happened at some point during Fronrein’s birth. it’d be neat for these friends to exist in two places at once :) seems totally feasible to me given how freaky the Void gets. Vedah inhabits her Wisp, Nahkip her Protea, and Prodah her Harrow. None of this is planned, it just sort of Happens. the fourth arm of the One also gets dragged into this (dont have much for it. similar mannerisms to Nahkip I know at least), being placed into the Drifter’s Chroma, and she is NOT happy about it. very peeved actually. She hates these fucking things and to now have them basically be sentient frames walking and (telepathically) talking around the ship MUST be some sort of cruel divine punishment. She mellows out though, after some grueling amount of time, becoming a bit more platonic with her Chroma after slowly letting her own defenses down and just bonding and talking with the guy (now that these Murmurs can actually do that), but still is a bit standoffish with the Operator’s frames.

Operator thinks it’s cool as all hell. She’s brainstorming what all frames she could possibly get next and then try to shove Murmurs into those ones too. MUCH to the Drifter’s chagrin. god help them.

ANYWAY. I dont want to beta read this again I just hope it makes sense. Above all I hope it satisfies your ask ;; this is nearing 3,000 on the word count and actually took multiple days to write LOL /// thank you for giving me the opportunity to spill about these guys :’]

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

Something I love about Exile Arc is that it focuses heavily on emotional abuse as the most harrowing aspect of c!Tommy's experience.

Like, yes, the physical torture (both c!Tommy and c!Dream have referred to it as such) started pretty much immediately. c!Dream was always very physically abusive, frequently striking c!Tommy with weapons while he was defenceless and eventually hitting him to the point he didn’t react. And that’s horrific on its own, obviously, but what Exile really focuses on is the emotional and psychological harm done, and the escalating abuse there.

It starts off with c!Dream belittling c!Tommy's feelings and thoughts, and isolating him for large periods of time. As he visits Exile more- something he occasionally didn’t do early on- he started lovebombing c!Tommy heavily, something he did to a degree beforehand with gifts but would start doing emotionally. He began manipulating him to gain his trust, presenting the absence of abuse as proof of kindness and leading him to see himself as uniquely bad, then making him feel special by portraying himself as a saviour and a trustworthy adult figure who was there to help. He began gaslighting c!Tommy about serious events, like Mexican Dream's death, and would increasingly make c!Tommy out to be the offending party and himself the victim, making c!Tommy feel guilty and wrong and ashamed, like he was the toxic party in the situation. He intentionally isolated him, lying to him and others to deliberately lead people away from Logstedshire and to keep c!Tommy unwilling to accept any help when someone did show up. Whenever anyone did while c!Dream was around, he'd worsen his abuse and drag the other person into it without their knowledge, leading c!Tommy to associate visits from anyone but c!Dream with humiliation and pain. On that note, c!Dream was very much deliberately setting rules and organising things to make c!Tommy feel humiliated and ashamed of himself, like it was embarrassing to be the victim of abuse- with infantilising and dehumanising rules, c!Tommy was treated very much like the child he hated to be seen as. It left c!Tommy desperate for any sort of validation, which c!Dream provided by making himself out to be a martyr who was the only one who cared, and he'd lovebomb c!Tommy even further when he fell into that dependence, encouraging c!Tommy to- as c!Tommy describes it himself- lack free will and become a toy, puppet, and/or pet.

Emotional abuse is often downplayed, but it's one of the most damaging forms of abuse out there. It’s insidious, and the effects of it often never go away. Many abuse survivors consider emotional abuse to be the most traumatic parts of their experience due to this, but it’s so rarely depicted as such in media. Physical and sexual abuse are considered worse or more serious than emotional abuse (and even then they’re not treated with respect a lot of the time!), when it’s far more complicated and nuanced than that with each of them causing different but deeply damaging trauma. It’s genuinely very cathartic to see a depiction of abuse that really focuses on the psychological elements, along with other stuff that’s generally not covered by media as much (such as c!Tommy not being anywhere close to a perfect victim yet still being portrayed entirely as a victim who didn’t deserve his abuse at all, or the complex feelings towards his abuse he has), and it helped me process a lot of what personally happened to me. It might be a little fantastical in some areas, but in others it’s so realistic in ways I’ve never even seen before, and I think that’s awesome.