#cw IV

[jdstrations]

Hyperfocused and made a minimalistish style film poster for @fiddles-ifs new WIP

Truly outside of my usual style, but I'm really proud of myself!!

#erinys: fury in the machine #fanart #poster design #digital art #looking forward to reading the demo when it's out #I wanna get my teeth into it #cw IV

[whump-card]

This Death That I Chose: Chapter 3

1512 words

CW: IV, fever, conditioning, panic attack, pet whump

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~~~

Lark jerked out of the nightmare with a whimpering gasp. He was lying in bed in a weirdly familiar-yet-unfamiliar room; a real bedroom in a real house, he realized, almost like -

NOT ALLOWED.

His eyes darted around, and the room seemed to slowly spin out and snap back into place every time his gaze moved. A square of golden evening light spread across one wall. An IV snaked out of his unbroken right arm and up to a bag hanging on a stand next to his bed.

The resistance, he remembered, They took me.

They’ll all die if I stay.

Lark was immediately seized with the all-encompassing drive to get home to the Capital, now. Who knew how long it had already been. He couldn’t give the Commander any cause to hurt these people. If Lark stayed, the Commander would do whatever it took to get him back. His prize pet.

He slowly sat up, his sweat-damp back turning cold when it was exposed to the air. He flexed the fingers of his broken arm where they peeked out of the cast, and pinched and ripped out the IV. The pain was fuzzy and dull, and a bead of blood ran down his arm. He watched it languidly for a moment before moving again, dragging his feet out from under the blanket and setting them on the floor. He took a deep, steadying breath and stood.

The room spun even faster, but he blinked hard and managed to stay upright. He turned and shuffled forward, socks sliding easily over the floor and his good hand ghosting over the surface of the bed. The longer he was upright, the more things stabilized; by the time he reached the end of the bed he could take real steps, and while the corners of his vision still carouseled around him the center of his gaze held steady. He focused on the door, and wobbled over to it. He apprehensively turned the knob and let out a near sob of relief when it easily turned and the door opened.

He stepped out into a hallway, made his way along it and slowly descended a straight staircase to the ground floor, clinging to the banister. His socked feet padded noiselessly, but his heartbeat and heavy breathing sounded like thunder inside his head. At the bottom of the stairs there was a room on either side of him, but he ignored them in favor of the room ahead; a small chamber crowded with chairs along one wall, and an exterior door on the far side. He rushed – as much as he could rush – to the door, and once again found it mercifully unlocked.

Outside, he stumbled down a few wooden stairs onto an aged paved path that led to a cracked driveway, which in turn arced down to a weed-speckled street. Everything that wasn’t paved was overgrown with tall grass, and thick trees surrounded the house he’d just exited. Cicadas screamed, accentuating the evening summer heat. Breathing hard, Lark looked around and identified the direction of the setting sun by where the golden light filtered through the tree trunks. West. He turned his head. South. The Capital was south, that much he knew. He circled around the house and started into the woods, twigs and rocks pricking his feet through his thin socks, grabbing onto trunks and branches as he passed for support. His cast swung in its sling, bumping against his chest.

We used to play in woods like these -

NOT ALLOWED.

As he walked, his breathing grew more and more labored and his vision, previously somewhat stable, started to tilt and swirl again. His stomach abruptly churned and he slammed his shoulder into a tree to catch his balance.

Can’t stop. Can’t stay here. Pets belong at home.

He pushed off of the tree and stumbled forward. Suddenly he was taking steps that were unobstructed, and the ground was smooth and hard beneath his feet; it took a few moments to make sense of what he was seeing in the whirling darkness, but Lark realized he was on a path. He gulped; there was too much saliva in his mouth. Was this good, or bad, or…

“Lark?”

A deep voice. A man’s voice. Lark’s heart sank, and he slowly turned.

It was one of the men who’d captured him – the one who had interrogated him. He was maybe fifty, average height, stocky, Asian, and had close-cropped dark hair and a shadow of a beard. He held a lit cigarette in one hand, and there was a pistol at his hip. Something about him sent a spike of dread down Lark’s spine – far beyond the fear of what staying with the rebels would mean. Something about this man, specifically.

“…Hey,” the man said softly, which wasn’t quite what Lark had expected. Lark said nothing, just watched him, refusing to look at the cigarette or the gun.

“Are you trying to get back to the Capital?” asked the man. Again, his voice was gentle. Unthreatening. Lark wasn’t buying it.

“I have to -” Lark’s voice came out as a croak at first, and he swallowed hard. “I have to, you don’t understand.”

The man sighed.

“Y’know, technically, I’m not supposed to be anywhere near you. I got told off,” he dropped the cigarette to the ground and stepped on it, “I’m really sorry, by the way. For scaring you.”

Lark’s frown furrowed with pain and confusion – nothing the man was saying made sense.

“You don’t scare me,” he lied.

“Sure, bud.” The man sounded tired. “Either way, I can’t let you leave.”

Lark sure knew what that meant.

“Killing me won’t solve your problem,” he said.

“Woah!” the man threw up his hands, “Who said anything about killing you? No, I can't let you leave because you’re sick, stupid! It’s your arm that’s killing you!”

Lark didn’t like that the man was raising his voice. He took a wobbling step back and found a tree to lean on.

“They’ll fix… My arm, when I get home,” he said strenuously.

“Dude, you can barely stand.”

I’m not going to make it, Lark realized. The man was right; he could barely walk, it was already dark enough that he couldn’t tell which way was south anymore, he didn’t have shoes, he’d never outrun the man…

Lark let his eyes fall closed, resting his head against the tree.

Today is a disaster.

“…What did you just say?”

Had he said that aloud?

“Today is a disaster,” Lark huffed, with more intention this time. He lifted his head and glared at the man, only to find him staring incredulously. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Lark.

“Marina Dolidze!”

Lark’s blood turned to ice.

No. No.

NOT ALLOWED.

“Is Marina your mom?” the man asked excitedly, “She says that all the time, and I know she lost a son…”

The man’s words were drowned out by Lark’s own heartbeat thumping in his ears. His vision spiraled.

NOT ALLOWED NOT ALLOWED NOT ALLOWED.

Lark could feel the hands on him, the metal prods digging into his skin, the electricity racing through his body.

“She works in the cookhouse, I could bring her to see you -”

“NO!” Lark found the man standing right in front of him and he pushed out with his good arm and shoved him away as hard as he could. “NOT ALLOWED!” He shrank back, curling his arm up and tucking his head to protect his face. The man would hit him, now, for doing that, but he couldn’t break the Commander’s law, not now, not ever.

He was going to be hit. Or the man would put cigarettes out on him, or break something, or knock him down and fuck him here in the woods, they were all alone, he had a gun, nobody would stop him, why did this man feel like the Commander? Lark’s breathing was too loud, he was going to get in trouble, he wasn’t crying, but everything was getting so dark, so dark, so dark-

~~~

Tao watched in shock as the boy worked himself into a cowering frenzy before suddenly going slack. Tao jumped forward and caught him as he slid down the tree. Grunting, he scooped Lark up into his arms. The boy was deathly pale and completely limp. Tao made sure his broken arm was resting securely, then started the laborious and slow walk back to Faye’s.

It wasn’t like he’d expected Lark to react with open, uncomplicated joy at the news that his mother was not only alive, but less than a block away, but the way Lark had reacted was completely out of left field. “Not allowed,” he had shouted. Tao could only imagine what that meant, and the options were pretty dark. Had Lark once asked about his family, only to be punished for it?

Regardless of what Lark’s reaction indicated, Tao needed to be sure before he rushed into anything. He couldn’t screw up and hurt Lark, again.

He needed to talk to Marina.

~~~

First, Previous, Masterlist, Next

Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #pet whump #this death that i chose #cw IV #cw fever #cw conditioning #cw panic attack

[some-mari-thoughts]

9) Somewhat lost

Grasping at the bits of familiar til it gets a little.. too familiar.

[Start] | [previous] | [finish]

Comments and thoughts under readmore!

Memory lane. I find it verrrryyyy curious how the things Sunny is grasping at to build up himself is his home, his memories shared with Basil and friends, and his friends themselves! the album moments... most fleshed-out of them all, most available while between the worlds. All of these street lights could be memories.. but only a few still work

Backstage. listened to that dialogue for the Nth time.. thought to finally see if it fits for what they could actually say. and it DOES. might be grasping at the straws, but I do like to think.. They are really saying that. sunny may not be conscious, but he's there to hear it. Though, the dialogue u get from interacting with them might not be as real as the other sdhfhgjdha

White space.... again.. the storm hasn't quite started.

#OMORI #OMORI Playthrough #OMORI Sunny #OMORI Hero #OMORI Aubrey #OMORI Kel #Ksenya gaming #my art #my doodles #Sunny #Son boi #Hero #Big Bro Boi #Kel #Leetol bro boi #Aubrey #Little punk #hospital #IV #CW IV #TW IV #TW hospital #CW hospital #OMORI spoilers #OMORI big spoilers #hes suc h a wet soggy boy give him a towel

[doodlingoat]

on chronic pain

#tired.... #vent art #:-) #vent tag #cw needle implied #cw iv #cw hospital #chronic pain #comics #digital art #artists on tumblr #queer artist #sketch #blood mentioned

[galaxyhazbin]

disabled pride. meds, pole, picc line #2 soon 👽🧪🧬🦇🖤✨

#face #disabled #cpunk #cripple punk #queer cripple #trans #purple hair #cw IV #cw medical #idk the disced horse around tagging my?self as medical #meantime idw get other disabled ppl triggered #or anyone but U Know r deal w medical shit. dans general. #anyway watching #manifest #look haggard as hell rn but shush #u cant see #witch

[applestruda]

Chemical overreaction / compound fracture

#ive been working on this forever and its all bc of the colors #no idea if i like this or not but might as well post it #goodtimeswithscar #gtws fanart #pearlescentmoon #pearlescentmoon fanart #secret life smp #traffic smp #trafficblr #my art #cw eyestrain #cw blood #oh also my propaganda to go listen to the song ofc its so good

[guavi]

n-no, certainly not

#good omens #good omens fanart #aziraphale #crowley #long post #ive been staring at this for long enough that i dont know if i like this anymore #sorry for stretching out your dash #guavi draws #cw snakes

[xamag-draws]

them witches

#my art #w.i.t.c.h. #cw eyestrain #i think most fanart ive seen is of their witch forms #which are cool but i love their real dorky kid selves

[bluegiragi]

human.

early access + nsfw on patreon

more backstory that i wrote up for patreon heh:

Simon and Tommy had a complicated relationship as brothers. 

At a young age, Simon basically wrote himself off as a lost cause, and did the best he could to make sure at least Tommy had a chance to be a functioning human being. After all, Tommy was the gentler brother, the dreamer, the one who looked like their mother (who'd walked out on them years ago to escape their father). But Tommy got bitter, got sick of the one always being protected, being babied. He lost respect for Simon, for the way he wouldn't fight back, and in a twisted way, grew closer to his father as a way to learn how to be powerful, strong. It backfired, and Tommy got wrapped up in some bad business.

Simon's kid brother died while he was deployed. He got the news in the letter, and it broke him in a big way. In the story timeline, it was years and years ago but it still hurts like hell whenever Simon thinks about him. 

#cw: child abuse #i decided to do my own take on simon's backstory for this au #it has the same broad strokes as his canon one but at this point #i feel like ive earned the right to tweak canon #at least in this au hehe #baby simon <3 <3 <3 #he tried his best #the hc is that simon is the son who looks like his dad #and tommy was the son who looks like his mum #so theres more angst when u consider the way he probably thinks of it as the wrong son persisting #simon ghost riley #tommy riley #cod mw2 #monster 141 au #giragi art

[e-m-p-error]

@sinnerxroulette (Vox to Val) " i was wondering when you'd wake up. "

send in " i was wondering when you'd wake up. " for the receiver to wake up in a hospital bed

[ Valentino ]

His eyelids fluttered slowly, unburdened by the false lashes he wore most often. That didn't mean that they weren't heavy in their own right, and as he adjusted himself some in bed, he took note of a few things.

It was bright in here, bright white lights on white walls and floors and bedsheets. Without his glasses, it was hard to see in such conditions, so his eyelids screwed shut again. The next thing that registered was the IV in his hand, and the beeping of the heart monitor above him.

When he heard Vox's voice, he turned his head to look at him, his heart hammering in his chest once, then twice. The skipping was noted by his vitals, but he didn't pay it much attention.

"Where's my--" His throat was dry and cracked, voice raspy, "Glasses?"

#It’s Best To Keep Me Pleased (Answered Asks) #And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ) #(Valentino and Vox - SinnerxRoulette) #cw hospitalization #cw injury #cw injection #cw iv

[whump-card]

Sunless Lives Part 2: I Should Have Known

~1520words

CW: panic, negative self-talk, injury care, denial of medical aid, bad boss, IV

Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

They can see you.

They’re all going to see you.

Simon half-fell, half-lurched off of the bed and staggered over to the door, slamming it shut. He slid against it down to the floor, sucking in air as his vision continued to narrow and darken.

They got him. They got him. Just keep the door closed and you’ll be fine.

Thump-thump-thump.

HE’S BACK.

Simon’s hands flew up and gripped his head, and he realized for the first time that his left temple was bleeding from where he hit it on the counter. And his head was… vibrating? No, he was talking, and hadn’t even known.

“No, no, no no no no…”

“Simon! Are you - Are you okay?” Matthew.

“Go away!” Simon shrieked. Again his voice cracked as he broke into sobs, he sounded so stupid, how did any of this even happen -

The door rattled against his back, and he wailed in terror. 

“Please, Simon, we need to make sure you’re okay!” Matthew called.

Another voice cut in.

“Just leave him alone, for God’s sake! Help me with this bastard, come on!”

Christian.

Christian is safe.

“Chris!” Simon called weakly. He pressed his feet into the floor, trying to stand, but the attempt made the darkness in his vision swell. He ended up collapsing fully onto the floor in the fetal position, but that at least gave the door a little space to open.

“Chris!” he called out again. The door slowly opened a couple inches.

“Cap- Christian had to wrangle Finch,” Matthew spoke gently from behind the door, “He can’t… He’s gone, do you want me or Gina?”

Gina the ice queen, who barely spared Simon a second glance most days, or Matthew, who Simon had some pretty intense what-if feelings about? Hard to pick which was worse. But if humiliation is inevitable, might as well go with the person who’s actually nice. Simon pulled his buttonless shirt closed and sluggishly rubbed at his face with his sleeve, trying to get the blood off his mouth. Trying to make it less obvious.

“Matthew,” he finally breathed.

“Okay, Simon, I’m coming in.” The door eased open a little further, and Matthew scooted in sideways. He cursed under his breath when he saw Simon on the floor, but otherwise kept his reaction under control. He turned back to the cracked-open door.

“Gina, pass me the bite kit?”

Gina’s lean hand passed the large white box through the gap. Matthew knelt on the ground next to Simon and popped the latches open. Simon seemed to be drifting away.

“Chris?” he murmured.

“Hey, stay with me, Simon,” said Matthew. He rolled Simon onto his back and spotted the head wound.

“Shit - Gina, this is really bad, we have to take him to a hospital.”

“Okay,” Gina replied from beyond the door, “I’ll let Captain Isles know.”

“Thanks.” Matthew pulled on some nitrile gloves and focused on packing the bite and the head wound with gauze, taking care to open Simon's shirt as little as possible, then started setting up an IV with the synthetic blood that came with the bite kit - a medical marvel that could be used for universal transfusions, but not drunk by vampires. It worked quickly and didn’t need refrigeration, but it had some unpleasant side effects.

All the while Matthew kept talking to Simon, trying to keep him awake. He narrated his work, getting mumbles and blinks in response.

“Okay, those are all patched up for now, you’re going to feel a little pinch, okay?” He rolled up Simon’s sleeve to insert the IV.

“Mhm - Ah!” Simon winced when Matthew inserted the IV.

“Sorry, sorry!” Matthew flinched in sympathy. “Hey, keep your eyes open for me. Simon?” Matthew touched Simon’s chest, causing him to whimper.

“What was that, are you hurt there?” Matthew hung the IV bag on the doorknob to free up his hands, and pulled open Simon’s shirt, revealing fresh bruising where he had crashed into the floor. Matthew pressed gently to confirm the broken ribs, eliciting a small cry from Simon, but Matthew was distracted by what else he saw there.

Simon’s torso was laced with scarring. Clustered around the soft light brown flesh of his waist were marks that Matthew recognized as bite scars: dozens of pairs of discolored dots, some indented and some raised, with the occasional crescent of a full set of teeth. Further up, random little lines were scattered across his ribs, likely from short, deep cuts; and now that some of the blood was sopped up and Matthew pulled the shirt open further, he saw that bite scars spread densely across Simon’s shoulders as well. Matthew couldn’t make much sense of the lines but he knew what the quantity of bitemarks meant. At some point in his life, and probably for a long time, Simon had been a bloodbag.

Not that they were supposed to use that terminology, of course. ‘Blood worker’ or ‘blood trafficking victim’ were preferred but… who had the time to say all that?

Simon always did.

Matthew was startled out of his discovery by someone bursting into the room behind him. Matthew spun around to tell them off, only to find that it was Captain Isles, looking rather harried.

“Cap! Good, he was asking for you.”

Isles closed the door, then circled around and crouched at Simon’s other side, looking him up and down.

“What's the damage?” he asked.

“At least one broken rib, a really deep bite, and a head injury.”

“Chris?” Simon mumbled again. His eyes fluttered, wandering up to Isles’ face. The captain didn’t respond, but didn’t look away either.

“He had all his clothes on when you got here?” he asked.

“His shirt's been ripped open but -” the words caught in Matthew’s throat as he realized what his captain was asking. “But yeah, I think so, Cap.”

Isles stood abruptly.

“He’ll be fine. No need to take him anywhere.”

“What?” Matthew leapt to his feet as well. “Sir, he took a serious hit to the head, he needs to go to the emergency room!”

“And if we take him out of this building he’ll be at risk of an attack far worse than this!” Isles insisted, “We can treat him here.”

“Okay, I’ll call the infirmary.”

“No, we can’t do that either.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because.” Captain Isles paused and took a breath, steeling himself. “Nobody can know about this.”

Matthew gave up on saying ‘what’ again, just opening his hands in a desperate question.

“Listen,” Isles said, his voice low and dangerous, “We wildly fucked up here, letting Finch get loose in the VIU building. If this is officially reported in any way, the whole team, including me, and including Simon, lose our jobs.”

“And that’s worth risking Simon’s life? He could have brain damage!” Matthew retorted.

Isles huffed, and crouched back down to rifle through the bite kit. He pulled out a pen light and lifted Simon’s eyelids, flicking it across his eyes, lighting the dark brown up gold.

“Chris, what’s happening?” Simon asked softly. “Is he gone?”

“Yeah,” said Isles, “He’s gone.” He stood back up to address Matthew.

“Pupils are normal, and now that he's got some blood back in him he’s talking. He’s going to be fine, I promise.”

Matthew shook his head fervently.

“I still don’t understand -”

“You don’t need to understand!” Captain Isles snapped, “But I’ll lay it out for you anyway: this team is an experiment, I’m trying to use Simon’s experience instead of letting the VIU toss him into victim protection where he would have been sniffed out anyway. Twice now we’ve gotten into trouble, had agents in danger, because vampires recognized Simon’s voice over the radio. This would be our third strike, and it would end our team, and Simon’s privileges here at the VIU. You might think you’d be helping him by reporting this, but you’d be killing him. Without the security of living here at the VIU, he’s dead - or worse.”

Matthew stared at his captain, trying to process all of this new information. What exactly was Simon’s experience? It was looking less like he’d kicked vampire ass in the field and retired to comms and research with a few grudges to be wary of, and more like he’d been… captured. And their team was an experiment? Matthew had no idea their team was different from any other. Was this why the whole team were newbies except for Simon? Did the much older and more experienced Isles not want anyone who would notice that their team was different? Had they always been in more danger because of Simon and not known it? Matthew had joined the team last, was he even more in the dark than the others?

Simon had reached out and taken hold of Isles’ pant leg.

“Chris, can you stay? Please?” His voice was small, and fresh tears clustered in his eyes.

The captain glanced down at him, then back up at Matthew.

“Stitch him up. He’s bleeding through the gauze,” He ordered. “I need to go, we’re leaving with Finch.”

He jerked out of Simon’s grip and left the room.

~~~

~~~

~~~

Previous, Next, Masterlist

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy @pigeonwhumps @sunshiline-writes

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #vampire whump #medical whump #cw panic #cw negative self-talk #cw injury care #cw denial of medical aid #cw bad boss #cw iv #sunless lives arc 1 #sunless lives #my writing

[bribinart]

hear me out hear me out hear me out..... dracopia but it's the dracula (1992) rendition (prints!)

#sorry i havent tossed some art up here in a while!!! been tryin to get a job 😔 (crowd boos) #but uh i rewatched dracula (1992) and now it's all i think about so here you go #my art #digital art #illustration #procreate #ghost bc #the band ghost #ghost #fanart #dracopia #papa emeritus iv #cardi c #cardinal copia #copia #bram stoker's dracula #dracula #dracula 1992 #blood cw #cw: blood

[startistdoodles]

Me and my friend have been playing PMD2 lately and this is what we have gotten out of it

#this has undoubtedly been done before but here is my take lol #pokemon #pmd2 #pmd2 spoilers #pokemon mystery dungeon #dusknoir #dialga #primal dialga #my art #cw swearing #im still deep in the kirby rabbithole but in case u were wondering what ive been up to #ive been replaying this in the background #its an amazing game btw if u havent played it then here is my propaganda #1k

[transthatfag]

kinda vampy

#art #digital art #my art 🦷 #mcr #gerard way #my chemical romance #digital painting #vampire #cw blood #i feel like theres a looooot of texture going on in this but. maybe its tasteful?? #either way im really happy with this piece :) #the lighting probably wasnt executed the best but idc lol #its been a while since ive done a piece WITH a background #so im giving myself some slack #kinda wish i have enough patience to figure out how to make his face look like its burning but ohhhhwellll #thats for another time

[bitternanami]

something i think is really interesting about dungeon meshi is the cast's respective views on food as the story progresses. the way many adventurers get through the dungeon is to eat when they Must, but mostly rely on healing magic to keep going when they're tired or beaten down. death is something you can buy your way out of, here.

having these lower stakes when it comes to running yourself too hard has made a lot of people in this setting kind of devalue food and what it does for you.

im not all the way through the manga yet, but so far i really like how it goes about debunking that mindset.

long post under the cut, cw explicit discussion of disordered eating. textual depiction of unhealthy methods of dealing with it. please be cautious!

it seems like to most folks, food is either a decadent luxury, like when the governor offers mr tance a feast as a show of power and wealth, (although he is the only one who actually eats in that scene as he talks about his ambitions);

[id: the governor and mr. tance talk politics and hierarchies, while the governor eats from a bowl. mr. tance's meal is not visible behind a speech bubble.

"so you believe the sorceror is an elf?" he asks.

"i can't say with absolute certainty," mr. tance replies, "but the spells are not ones dwarves and humans typically use." /end id]

like the painted-royal feasts laios tries to partake in that never actually nourish him...

[id: laios, fresh out of the living painting feast, surprisedly holding his grumbling stomach /end id]

or, to the working class, it's pretty much exclusively fuel. i'm thinking about the scene where kabru's party, ostensibly intended to be our view into how adventuring Typically goes for most people, is shown preparing to go to the dungeon by like. walking up to someone and ordering 'a weeks' worth of rations.' purely functional.

[id: kabru enters a store, and the merchant says "welcome!"

kabru says "i need a week's worth of rations for six, and two days' worth of water."

"sure thing." the merchant then reaches behind him and grabs a large cube-shaped package, wrapped in nondescript cloth and tied in place. it thumps onto the counter in front of them both. /end id]

when kabru hands mickbell his food for the trip, he complains about how heavy it is on his back. it's a necessary liability.

we also see chilchuck, in an early chapter where there isn't much food to go around, grumbling about how he used to be better at not noticing when he was hungry. he's frustrated that he's more attuned to his bodily needs, now that he's starting to fill them with regularity.

[id: chilchuck, the only one awake, sits in his bedroll and glares at the timekeeping-candle burning down in front of him while he listens to his stomach growl. moving to find his canteen and fill himself with water instead, he thinks to himself, "my stomach has gotten weaker. i used to be able to go two days without food." /end id]

(like im not even gonna lie this is a big mood. the healing process is really really annoying)

even laios, early on, working out the logistics of going back for falin, considers his expenses and ultimately the thing he decides to save money on is their food supply. like, even the guy most invested in eating as an experience kind of just assumes he will Figure It Out. its what hes eating, not how hes eating it that matters to him at that point.

[id: marcille looks down at the ingredients they've gathered, the walking mushroom and the scorpion in an unappetizing heap on the ground, and asks laios "so how exactly do we eat them?"

he responds "let's just cook them, like normal." /end id]

but its here that senshi introduces the idea of food as art and as healing. its exciting and its fascinating for laios, getting to taste the creatures hes been reading about and fighting, but i dont think it would ever really help him feel full if not for this.

[id: three panels of laios tasting the scorpion hotpot, looking stunned, and then excitedly telling senshi "delicious!"

senshi matches his energy, asking "isn't it? isn't it?" /end id]

pictured: guy who had resigned himself to kind of just doing his best rediscovers the joy in something tasting really fucking good

what they did last time isnt going to work. falin is gone, and constantly anesthetizing their pain and healing through their weakness is no longer a realistic option for the party. in order to make it through they must all relearn how to eat well, one by one and as a group over and over again, because its either that or nothing.

one of my favorite depictions of this idea thus far is when marcille is seriously low on health and mana, and both of these problems are mitigated by taking care of herself, and trying to get iron and protein

[id: marcille, looking sickly, wakes to laios saying, "marcille, marcille, can you sit up? we've got something nice for you."

she watches senshi grill pieces of kelpie liver on a low fire, while laios ties a bib around her neck. /end id]

and drinking a bunch of dead water spirits. she gets the idea, she's supposed to get in nutrients and it'll help her feel better, but in aiming for the quick, inefficient fix, namely chugging that shit down like she heard it was good to Stay Hydrated and decided that would be the thing that fixes her,

[id: marcille throws back a cup of boiled undine-water, her face red. laios asks, "do you really need to drink it that fast?"

she gasps out "...the magical energy stored in nature spirits is actually quite hard to absorb. even if you drink a lot, the majority of it is excreted without being absorbed," and takes another drink. "that's why i need to drink as much as i can."

laios says weakly "you'll get water poisoning," but marcille only stops when senshi puts a hand on her shoulder and says,

"it's easier to absorb nutrients if ye digest them with food. that's a fundamental rule of nutrition."

marcille says, "senshi..." contemplative

and he holds out a bowl of tentuclus and a thumbs up. "let's get cooking!" /end id]

she doesn't immediately realize the answer is that she needs more than that. she's been working hard. she needs care, and she needs nourishment.

once she gets that, though, she makes her boiled water into a stew, and she works to make that stew as good as she can, and everyone can have some.

because in dungeon meshi, to feed yourself or allow yourself to be fed is treated as performing a kindness for yourself. food is what propels you, but there is also an art and a joy inherent to the process of making it; in the way you feel when you've had enough to eat.

[id: senshi watches as chilchuck and marcille eat and excitedly hash out plans.

"i've got a good feeling about this! maybe it'll work out!" chilchuck says

marcille responds, "well it's easier to feel optimistic on a full stomach!"

senshi smiles, proud. /end id]

^^^ i want to put this image on my wall

when you're working through disordered eating habits, you really do have to keep learning this shit. (in my experience, learning about cooking is one of the best ways to do so.)

i'll have to see if my thesis holds up as i continue, but i think one of the reasons the portrayal here resonates with me so hard is that ryoko kui puts most of her characters at eye level with me on this. they're all working at it, too. the text and i are both commiserating, and encouraging each other, 'have some more, you'll feel better.'

#its late -_- idk if this fullly gets across what i mean but ive been thinking about this for weeks #dungeon meshi #recovery #cooking tag #disordered eating cw #im on chp 31 atm but im like. squinting and steepling my fingers looking for this theme as i go now

[way2gosuperrstarr]

me and . your mom. last night . if you even care

#salmon scribbles #my art #SORRY i think ive kinda lost it #'hey can i sleep yet' no you must draw shoving your arms into the dcas chest cavity #'whats happening in this image' I Do Not Know #literally could not sleep until i finished drawing this goodnight i am Tired #got so lost in the sauce of drawing i had every status effect inflicted upon me when snapping out of the Drawing Haze #dca community #dca fandom #moon fnaf #moondrop #fnaf daycare attendant #sunday's silly sb self insert au #cw suggestive #? #<- just in case bcs others are tagging it in their reblogs ^_^