#nobody is cishet here mwahaha

[wordy-little-witch]

I'm experiencing some Emotions atm so I'm gonna project on my little clown man -

TW for talks of periods

Trans masc Buggy who can't get cut/stabbed/sliced/diced. The availability of hormones and HRT is limited due to both canon scientific development and micromanagement from the government. He's a chemist, so he can synthesize his own HRT ((and has the survival instincts to know they NEED medical professionals, so he probably shares that info with them)), but it's not a one and done type of deal.

In Impel Down, he wasn't able to access his T. He was in there for a few months, so he was having hormone shifts there for a hot minute before finally being freed. It's one of the reasons he kept his stubble - it helped with the dysphoria.

He gets out, gets back on track, keeps the stubble bc it helped, he liked it, etc. He had a few times where he wanted to shave again but decided against it.

Now on to the Evil Polycule.

Crocodile and Mihawk's take over and implementation of Cross Guild came with some changes to the budget, including Croc just putting a full stop on Buggy's chemicals for a time. He decided to bite the bullet and send what he had to the pharmacists to keep them afloat bc he's actually a good captain. He just.. has limited meds for himself.

So it's a few months into the Guild, Buggy has been off T for a little while now, he's not having too many issues, they're all starting to get to an even keel, and they're even expanding the budget for the chemicals for the pharmacy and also his tools for his weapons. Things are looking up!!!

And then... Buggy starts his period.

And he is spiraling.

He holds up in his room, wrapped in a blanket cocoon, in the dark, curled up tightly against the cramps that are hooked into his abdomen and the sudden wash of dysphoria. He's usually better about this. He usually doesn't struggle this much. Somehow this is worse, he doesn't know why, but he is not okay.

He's not okay at all.

Mihawk and Crocodile are left waiting on him for a meeting. And when it hits a certain point, they're angry, annoyed, and they go looking for him (they are not concerned, they tell themselves, they're not-). They find Alvida, Galdino and Ritchie in the clown's quarters. Ritchie actually gives a warning growl, eyes lidded but sharp. Alvida pales but meets their gaze head on. Galdino is shaking like a leaf, but he doesn't back down.

That alone starts ringing alarm bells.

They ask, they get vague answers at best, and then Mihawk catches the scent of blood. He moves in a swirl of black-and-gold, straight to Buggy's room, straight to Buggy.

It's a bit of a hot mess, but there's an understanding that grows. Crocodile understands, sharing a vulnerability of his own, asks tentatively if Buggy has ever reached out to Ivankov.

Buggy curls up further - as much as he can, at least, with Ritchie pressed against his lap and tummy, purring a storm with kitty worship eyes - and admits that he has. Iva's hormone treatments are injections, and while some devil fruit abilities can circumvent others, that's not the case for him. They've tried. The only option to make it work is seastone or sea water on/around Buggy, which could impact the hormones or Iva's abilities as well.

Also, Buggy admits with grit teeth, Iva's tendency to force sex changes as a punishment rubs him the wrong way.

He tells the two dark haired men about his medicines, how he makes them himself and how his stash has been running low; tells them how he had thought he had enough until the shipment came in with the stuff for his weapons making and the pharmaceuticals; he tells them how he'd given his spare stock to the med tents when they joined because of the denial for the existing budget Buggy had in place.

They feel guilty with the realization.

They decide then that since their actions led to this, it is only fair that they assist. Mihawk brews a tea for Buggy's cramps, Crocodile uses his sand as a heating pad, cool fingers brush through Buggy's hair to help with the migraines, a warm hand and hook help support Buggy's weight when the pain crescendos and leaves him gagging.

Between them and Buggy's usual crew, it's the most cared for he's felt since before a booming laugh was cut shirt by swinging blades and a grin splattered messily onto cobblestone beneath sheets of rain.