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luveline · 10 months

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can I request eddie with golden retriever!reader, maybe where she gets upset because she overheard people calling her stupid and he sees her cry for the first time and it breaks his heart bc even though she’s upset, she’s trying to be happy? a big hurt/comfort moment?

thank you so much for your request! i love him so much i just wanna squeeze him <3 fem!reader, 1k

Eddie stands in the doorway, and you're lucky he's around. He looks pretty today in his softest manner, plaid shirt tied around his waist, a shirt with cut off sleeves showcasing the lengths of his arms and all their subtle muscle, inky dark tattoos climbing his skin in whorls. His hand moves forward toward you, pale fingers bright even in the dark room.

"It's a party," he says, "what are you doing here all by yourself?"

You wipe your running nose with your sleeve for lack of a tissue. Sniffling, you say, "I just didn't want to cry in front of everyone. I'll be right there."

Eddie closes the door with an easy swiftness. He flicks on the lamp, and he looks at you like you've pulled the rug from under his sneakers.

"It's fine," you say quickly. You add a laugh you're not quite feeling, not wanting him to worry about you. "Don't stress."

"Why are you acting like this isn't a big deal?" he says immediately, no punches held.

"It's not, everybody cries."

Eddie sits on the end of the bed. The bedspread is a washed out grey, the room someone else's and unfamiliar. You hadn't wanted to have anyone come upon you messy crying in the bathroom, slipping into the master bedroom without a word. It's weird to be among other people's things. It has the feeling of isolation creeping in all over again.

Eddie puts his hand on your thigh. "What's wrong?" he asks, squeezing gently.

"It's really not a big deal."

"Humour me then. What's bad enough to make you cry?"

You swipe under your eyes, his questioning prompting another wave of useless tears. They well big and drop fast down your cheeks like warm summer rain on your cool skin. "It's really stupid," you say with a wet laugh. You can't wipe your face fast enough.

"This is agony for me, you realise?" he says, in a tone that's not as teasing as his usual dramatics. "Seeing you upset? Tell me who said something mean and I'll kick their ass."

"No, Eddie, you can't."

"So someone did say something mean?" he asks.

You trace the curve of a silver ring on his fingers as his hand rubs a slow back and forth over your jeans. The ache in your spine from slouching forward into your hands twinges as you begin to relax, your upset softened by his comforting touch. You don't answer him, only look at his hand, tear after tear curving along the slope of your cheek to meet under your chin. You bring your shoulder up and wipe your chin into your t-shirt.

"Hey," Eddie murmurs, patting your leg, "you can tell me. I won't do anything you don't want me to do, but I gotta know what's making you cry."

You loll your head to the side and give him a sad smile. "D'you ever get the feeling that… that everyone's just pretending to like you?"

"No, but… that's because people don't bother pretending, with me," he says.

You nod appreciatively. "Well…"

"It doesn't matter, I can guess. I can guess how it would feel. You think people are just pretending to like you?"

"I know so," you say.

Eddie takes his hand from your thigh. You don't have time to mourn the loss —his arm comes up behind you, fingers curling gently at your hip. "C'mere," he whispers, closing the gap between your sides.

"People saying shit about you?" he asks.

"You know Gareth's friend? The shorter one? He was laughing with his girlfriend about how stupid I sounded when I was telling you about that octopus thing and I… I know I sounded stupid, it was basically a joke, you know?" You rest your head on his shoulder. "It's dumb."

"That wasn't stupid, that was interesting."

"In what world?"

"Hey, I can deal with idiots talking down on you, that's what idiots do, but I won't hear it from you. Okay? Don't piss me off," he warns jokingly, giving your waist a small shake against him. "You're not stupid. Do you know how fucking smart, how unshakeable you have to be to see the good in the world? It's easy to give into cynicism, that's why I do it."

"Eddie," you laugh.

"So you got excited about something a bit weird," he says, "so what? Why should they get to say that's stupid?"

"Is it really weird?" you ask.

"Super fucking weird, babe."

He sounds pleased to have said it, his smile audible, his breath a warm fanning against your cheek. You know you're moments away from a chaste kiss pressed sneakily to the skin just shy of your ear.

You're shameful. "Is that bad?" you ask.

Eddie kisses you as you'd expected, right on the mark. "No," he says resolutely, grinning at you though you can hardly see him, he's so close. "No way. We're weirdos together."

You let him make you feel better with another hug, this one double-armed, the short stubble of his chin scratching your cheek. Hands full of his hair, you squeeze him tight enough to bruise, pleased when he groans and yanks out of your arms.

"That how it is?" he asks.

"Isn't it always?"

Eddie takes your face into rough hands. You're under no illusion —delusion, even— that he might close the inches between you. This is a Munson style telling off, eyes locked to yours, forcing you to listen.

"You scared the shit out of me, but don't think you have to come and sit in a dark room crying by yourself. That's not okay. That's a bit sick, actually."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack."

He rubs your cheeks childishly, pushing them up so they apple. Then, with much more tenderness, he wipes the tacky triangles of your eyelashes with the tip of his thumb. "No crying in empty rooms. You have to do it when I'm around, so I can make fun of you."

"You're very charming," you say sweetly.

Something funny stutters over his face, like a slice of sincerity through his bravado. "Only with you, sweetheart."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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finniestoncrane · 8 days

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PREWAR COOPER STUFFS ❤️‍🔥 DESPERATELY needing some fluffy morning after/Sunday morning routine with his wifey 😩👏 him being VERY grabby and just an absolute horndog dkfnfnrk (he is down bad for reader)

Morning, Sunshine

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k hello post divorce cooper, please hit me up, i'll make you eggs (also post-divorce barb i know you're a baddie but that's just my type so i'll make you eggs too pls lemme make you eggs too...ANYWAY) but please this is so cute and i have made it gender neutral as you corrected so everyone enjoy being cooper's little chef and getting caressed by this hungover idiot 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw:

Cooper stumbled into the kitchen, his feet shuffling on the floor as though they were made of lead, unable to lift them any higher. He groaned as the light from the windows assaulted him, and you smiled without turning to him, offering a brief, hushed 'good morning'. He returned the greeting with a groan. His entire body felt weighed down, the ache of sleeping in one position all night, lacked out in a drunken stupor after he had pawed at you and attempted to fuck the lingering stress out of his body.

And now he was in his own kitchen, messy from the small gathering of friends from the night before, stressed once more and hungover as shit to boot.

But there you were, by the stove, the source of the wonderful smell that had woken him up and had him drifting from the sancutary of his dark bedroom to face the world. Even when he was hungover, or sick, or just too damn tired to accept reality, he did it anyway. Who knew how many more mornings there were for him to see? That looming threat, the dark secret he had to keep to himself, one not even Barb knew was the real reason for their divorce. The source of his agonies, but also, the reason he felt so inspired to wake up each morning and spend as much of the time he had left with you as possible.

"I wasn't expecting you out of bed any time beforeat least midday, Coop."

"Then you shouldn't have started cooking something so god damn delicious."

His voice grew closer as he made his way, instinctually, towards you.

"I'm sorry, did it wake you up?"

"It did, but there's nothing to apologise for."

He was behind you now as you stood in front of the burners, a pan in your hand, your signature omelette cooking over the heat, your grip wobbling a little as Cooper looped his arms around your body. Everything he did stole your attention, pulling your focus with his charismatic personality, the way he commanded a room the moment he entered. And it didn't help that he had begun to kiss at your neck, letting his lips drag along your prickling skin as he moved down to your shoulder, nuzzling back into you as he sighed. The satisfied moan on the exhale had your stomach tensing, eliciting a soft moan of your own in reply.

"You want me to make you something to eat?"

"Please, darlin'. If that isn't a bother."

"Never is for you, Mr Howard. You get a coffee and take a seat, I'll be right with you."

Once he was seated with his mug, the morning newspaper to the side of the place setting at the kitchen island, you turned from the stove to plate up the omelette for him. It was the first you had properly looked at him that morning, and you could feel your breath hitching as you took him in. Even in this state, bedraggled, skin greasy with a sheen of sweat, hair unkempt and slicked back in messy waves, his breath, which you could smell over the countertop, still tainted with the cocktails he’d been making the night before. Even with all of that, he was still the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes on. And those same eyes couldn’t help but fall to his chest, his robe hanging open, exposing his torso down to his navel.

You wondered if he’d bothered to find any underwear to put on before covering himself with the short robe when he’d stumbled out of bed.

“Oh, sweetheart. You made this for yourself.”

“You eat first, I’ll make one for myself just now.”

Cooper flashed you a grin, one you remembered seeing so often in press photos, at promotional events.

“You really are a doll, know that?”

You returned his smile, turning back to the stove as he ate a few bites of the omelette with a satisfied groan. Cooper took a sip of coffee, watching you over the top of the mug. Every day could be the last. He didn’t want to believe it, but it always hung in the back of his mind. He’d lost Barb to Vaut-Tec, lost Janey, at least partly, to the divorce. He’d lost his sense of security to the war, his work to the paranoia that had burrowed inside of him. You were all he had now, and intended to cling to you with everything he had. Holding your hand tight at the party last night, clutching your body in the bed as he fucked you, passionate, desperate. His fingers entwined in yours as you slept, then holding you in his arms, your body smooth and warm.

Cooper stood up from his chair, unintentionally quiet to the point where you didn’t even notice he had moved until he was right behind you again, pressing himself against you so tight that you could feel the beginnings of his erection pushing into you. With a firm hand, he took your wrist, guiding you to set down the pan, switching the stove off and turning you in a choreographed spin so that you were facing him, your chests together, eyes trained on one another.

“You got enough ingredients for another, right?”

“Uh… yeah? Why?”

“I just think it might be ruined by the time I’m finished with you.”

His hands slipped down from your lower back, cupping both of your cheeks as he raised his eyebrows in a silent, questioning plea. Every moment with you was precious to him, every inch of your body worth placing a kiss to, worth tasting and savouring. Why not make the most of your time together by making sure you were as close to each other, as pleasured and satisfied, as possible?

So, when you blushed, biting your lip and giggling, he knew you agreed, and he took your hand and pulled you back to the comfort of the bedroom with you, hoping to relieve himself of a little more stress.

#fallout #fallout amazon #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

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shywritersblog · 7 months

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Here are 100 random quotes from Lucifer!

Sourced from the OM! Wiki, chats, devilgram, screenshots I found, etc. I made this list to help with studying to write the characters in character. (Not really proofread, sorry if there are mistakes. Also, there may be spoilers. If so, they’re minor spoilers)

✧༺⚜️༻✧

“Do you want my attention? Why don't we talk for a little then? I have enough energy for that. As your presence is so very soothing to me.“

“Heh, not afraid to get sassy with me anymore, are you?”

“Let's celebrate until you cannot stand anymore.“

“No need to rush. I won't be able to help you if you fall down in the middle of the street. Rather, I would probably enjoy the sight.”

“...Well? How do you like Demonus-flavored kisses?“

“I believe it's long been established that if anyone's going to be eating them, it will be me.“

“If you want me to keep you from running that mouth of yours, you need only ask.“

“Are you poking fun at me right now? I see you like to play with fire. Well, there's a punishment for getting cheeky with me like that. Come here, MC”

“I am exceedingly concerned…”

“Now Listen, and listen well. I will not be your possession. I won’t belong to you. You will belong to me.”

“You seem repentant, so I shall forgive you.”

“Are you still tired from last night? After all, I didn’t let you get much sleep.”

“I will watch over you. Until the day comes where we must part. And I promise... to love you until the end of your days and beyond.”

“You... Release me! Don't you dare try to put me to sleep like I'm not ten million years older than you!”

“All of you, out of the way...! I'm going to tear that human limb from limb…!”

"Are you trying to please me?"

"Do you need a goodnight kiss?"

"You are a strange human being."

"You want me to praise you for that? Very well… Good iob."

"Fine, I'll forgive you just this once."

"Do you need something?"

“It's as if you're saying that you need me in your life, and that's a wonderful feeling. Is it conceited of me to say that? Well, I am the Avatar of Pride, after all."

“Stab it with a fork or something. Anything sharp should do the trick.“

"I can't say I mind spending my time with you while Mammon's shrieks echo in the background either. Heh! And Diavolo's laughter is even louder than that."

“Well, there are worse demons it could have happened to... Probably.”

“Asmo, you stay right there. I'll go get my whip.“

“Hush now. Daddy's here to give you a hug.“

“NONONONONONO! I'm saying I DON'T want them to see that picture. So, if they ask you for it, I'd like you to tell them that no such photo exists. OK?”

“That won't be necessary. I went ahead and blew it up. The entire room.“

"If you want to get the better of me, that toy of yours isn't going to cut it. Perhaps try lethal poison from some horrific insect, aged a thousand years for maximum potency."

“I know, I know... But why don't we save the killing until after you've eaten your breakfast, hm?“

“Mmm, nothing's sweeter than listening to their screams of agony. Heheheh...”

“Bring him down to the living room. Use whatever means necessary…though I do want him alive.“

”I would never have imagined I would be kissed on the cheek by you. I don't dislike it when you take the initiative. But why on the cheek? You don't need to hesitate with me. Next time, do it on the lips. Understand?”

“Hell coffee becomes bitter when you prepare it for someone that you're fond of. It's a special property of the coffee beans. Naturally, I drank every last drop of your feelings.”

“Only those that haven't been involved in that dolt's childish antics are the truly happy ones.”

“When I get my hands on him, I'll have to be thorough with my discipline.”

“Tomorrow I will be handing Diavolo a report detailing how all of the exchange students are faring. I'll be sure to stress how excited you are to continue your education here at our prestigious academy.”

“How's the Celestial Realm? Unlike the Devildom, you don't have to worry about anyone grabbing you and eating you for lunch there, do you?”

“You've got Solomon with you as well, so you should relax and enjoy your time there.“

“If only my brothers were as obedient as you are. It is not every day that you get the chance to have me indebted to you. You can expect a one-hundred times return on the investment of your time, that I promise. In return, I expect that you won't let me down.”

“How naive. If you don't want me to have wasted my time by informing you, be sat in your seat at the table within the next sixty seconds. It will be just you and me. Let us enjoy the rare breakfast together before my brothers ruin the atmosphere.”

“Don't get cocky, MC.”

“One spoke at length about the clothing on the Diavolo sticker. It waxed lyrical about how exquisite the design choices were.”

“However, I discovered a slew of insults written in invisible ink on the page.“

“How could you tell? You really know me well, MC! Hehehe. I was drinking Demonus with Diavolo earlier. And you know, he kept saying all these nice things about you... Let me tell you, I'm also really happy you're down here with us.”

“…Who even came up with the idea that whoever empties their bottle first, wins...? Oh, right. I did... My bad. Ah, my head is spinning. Good night MC. Love you.”

“Ugh, you thickheaded fool of a demon! What's your skull made of? Granite?”

“That's a curse meant to make you stub your toe on the leg of a table… But if you actually do stub your toe, it hurts quite a bit.”

“MC. It has come to my attention that Mammon and Asmo took you out for a drive recently. Well, how was it? Enjoyable? …I'm glad to hear it. We all need breaks from the daily grind from time to time. l'd like you to join me for a drive next time. I'll give you a taste of euphoric freedom that those two could never dream of. Prepare for the time of your life.”

“If you'd like, we could take a shower together.”

“After all, I haven't managed to seduce you yet. I'm going to need more time.”

“The three highest-ranked demons in the realm, frolicking about in a frivolous pajama party? How absurd.”

“I didn't hear a word you just said. I know nothing about it, and I'm going to keep it that way.”

“I see. Then I should be allowed to take a similar photo of you, no? Come stay over in my room again tonight.”

“Don't be stupid. I will not allow myself to be clad in demon garb. I'm going to strip off every last piece of it this very instant and fling it as far away from me as I can.”

“You're a demon. I'm surprised someone like you is able to feed me lines like that with a straight face. You've got some nerve.”

“Heheheh. Well, he is my brother, after all, so I thought I'd go easy on him. So, should I make this quick, or go slowly, bit by bit? Your choice.”

“So, tell me. what's with the Little D.? The one looking at me with that moronic expression...”

“You think you stand a chance against me?! You think you could defeat Lucifer, Avatar of Pride?“

“Well, aren't you persistent. I suppose you won't be happy until you've pummeled the door senseless?”

“...Just what were you hoping to accomplish by knocking me down like this, hm? Because doing something like that to me, right now… is making it much harder for me to control myself...!”

“Given that you were the one who pounced first, you can't complain when the tables are turned, can you? …I'm so thirsty, I can hardly think straight. I trust you understand what that means.”

“To show my thanks, I suppose I'm not against giving you some special treatment. You'll have to come closer. I'll give you my lap until you're satisfied. ...You'll keep me company until then, won't you?”

"You deserve a thank you."

"Sorry, this isn't exactly my cup of tea. I was hoping you'd know me better."

"It appears to me you know what pleases me."

"Are you really trying to tickle me? Heheheh, you'll have to do much better than that."

"Pff...if you think that tickles, you're wrong."

"Well, if you insist on touching me, then be my guest.”

"Well, hello. How are things?"

"You've got some nerve keeping me waiting. Well now, what are you going to do about it?"

"I'm back. Hm? ...Did you miss me?"

"*sigh* I've had a long day. But seeing you has a way of making me feel better."

"Sorry, I had some business to take care of. Well, well, you certainly seem happy to see me."

"Done? Let's continue this in my room."

"Good night... We'll meet again in our dreams."

"I feel like we both have a nice day ahead of us."

"I enjoyed our time together. Perhaps we should do this again."

“You do know what I'm capable of... don't you?"

"Happy Easter. Will you accept it, my little bunny?"

"Once you're officially a sorcerer, I'd like you to become powerful enough to shut up Solomon for me."

“Very well. Here I go. Lucifer Kick!”

“Why should I be subjected to the indignation of a pat on the head from you?”

“After all, it's a bit like tossing a helpless lamb into the middle of a pack of hungry wolves, isn't it? But it's also important to understand just who it is you're eating, wouldn't you say?“

“It means that I see you as prey, too. Just like the others. It goes without saying that I'm far stronger than you. If I were to pin you down right here and now, you wouldn't be able to do anything about it, now would you? How about we give it a try...?“

“You will soon enough.”

“When a vampire feeds, it's not like his human prey feels only pain. Quite the opposite, actually. They're overcome with a feeling of unimaginable ecstasy. The truth is that you want this as well, don't you? You want to feel my arms around you, to give yourself up to me and offer up your blood... You're special. I won't drink you dry...no. I'm going to kiss you again and again, all over your body. Indulging in you just a bit each and every night. And I do mean every night. No other vampire will ever know the taste of your blood…”

“Do you have any idea how hard I had to struggle not to do this earlier...? It was all I could do to resist throwing my arms around you right in front of everyone at the party.”

“MC… I missed you. I can tell just from the way you feel against me. I can sense what you're feeling.I'm sorry, MC. ...Sorry it took me so long to get to you. You should really stay with me tonight. We need to make up for all the time lost.“

“You're drunk, you idiot. Oh well, I'll go along with you just for today. Bottoms up.”

“Me? Intoxicated? Preposterous. I'm my usual old self.”

“You are also fond of me, no?“

“Then come over here. Are you holding back? Come closer. Prepare yourself. If I win, I get to do with you as I please.”

“You know there is no turning back after the first pillow is thrown, right?”

“As a demon, I've never cared when humans bred…”

“Stop unnecessarily stressing me out. You're shaving years off my life here.”

“I don't mind. If I am not allowed to nag, then I can simply beat these rules into you.”

“Is this how you all amuse yourselves? By sending photos of your exposed body parts?”

“Good grief. I need eyes everywhere to keep track of everyone.”

Extras! (It's hard to pick just 100 y'know?)

1. “Leading unhealthy lifestyles, frittering away your time and money… The extent to which you all squander your lives away is quite intolerable to watch.”

2. “Put two or more of you together, and you start getting ideas in your head. Bad ideas.”

3. “The next time one of you puts so much as a toe out of line… I'lI march you all up your beloved Mt. Imminent Death, and ensure that you NEVER return.”

4. “So as an extra bonus, I'll tickle you...”

5. “How nice that you're not letting our large underground gambling problem spoil your fun...”

✧༺⚜️༻✧

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

𝒮𝒽𝓎 𝒲𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓇 ༝༚༝༚

#pls share this took me all day #obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #fanfic #dividers #gif #obey me lucifer #obey me lore #obey me canon #fic ref #writing prompt #obey me fanfic #om lucifer #omswd lucifer #self ship #writing wip #obey me smut #smut writing

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bugs1nmybrain · 24 days

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Bipolar!Shigaraki Tomura Headcanons

I'm writing it. Because I CAN

Before I start, I am writing these headcanons as someone who has been diagnosed with Bipolar Type 1 for almost three years now. I frankly could not care less if people don't think he has Bipolar Disorder, I'm writing this for my comfort and that of others who either have Bipolar disorder or just resonate with the idea that Tomura does.

and I'm also very aware of Bipolar Disorder being stigmatized as something that affects "bad" people. I'm not trying to suggest this, but that Tomura is someone who is neglected of treatment.

Warning: Bipolar disorder as title suggests (Tomura's symptoms relate to type 1 more), talks of depression, mania, psychosis, suicidality, etc, angst?

Tomura has never been given a formal diagnosis and likely has no clue that he has bipolar disorder himself. He doesn't know much about it, either, other then the stereotype that people with general mood swings are "so bipolar."

The doctor knows, AFO does too, but for them, they see it as more ammo for their arsenal to make sure Tomura's life is nothing but agony. He's never been treated with medications or therapy. Nothing.

Because he isn't medicated, his episodes are pretty strong. His manic episodes sort of blend in with his everyday behavior to a lot of people.

It's during this time that he finds himself planning out grand operations against the heroes. Some of his ideas seem unrealistic and not well thought out. They're more just ideas thrown around, and he jumps to gather people and means to carry out his goal before actually having a calculated plan.

He's up all night doing this. But if he's not, he's likely gaming. He huddles up in his room with multiple cans of energy drinks (as if he didn't already have way too much energy).

(semi-canon) will text his comrades at godforsaken hours either asking, demanding, or just rambling about stuff. If he gets an answer, the recipient often finds themself confused because Tomura just talks and talks and talks, and when he's in the heat of some plan or project he doesn't really stop to compose his sentences or even take a damn breath.

He impulsively buys things, like copious amounts of in-game purchases. Or DoorDash. If he's feeling reeeaaal bold he'll go for a whole-ass gaming console if he can, even if his current one is perfectly fine. Or assembling as many thugs as he can and feeling generous enough to overpay them when they definitely don't need the amount of money he's giving them.

You can see how when AFO was arrested, his lifestyle shifted in this regard.

Tomura is already an irritable guy, and so his mania can make it worse. He gets very overstimulated with all of his sensations that little things, like accidentally stubbing his toe, can make him mad as fuck for a good thirty minutes.

He also gets very paranoid about others. When he talks to people, he's already convinced that they are tricking him somehow and he'll read every cue he can to confirm it, even if the proof isn't even there.

Even when he's out in public and by himself, he thinks everyone is mocking, judging, and looking at him. That also comes with being the most wanted villain around, but that's beside the point.

When something finally goes his way, he is HAPPY. Sometimes the League will catch Tomura smiling his face off for no apparent reason (odd for him), and will ask what's up, only for Tomura to CACKLE back with, "ehehAHAH NOTHING!! THAT's just IT!"

They look at each other like, but just let him go about his day. They'll later hear him giggling to himself in his room, and sometimes talking to himself. He'll deny and just tell them he was on chat (his devices are not open and he is standing in the middle of his room).

Because he's not medicated, his mania can trickle into psychotic symptoms. Especially if he's going through more stress than typical. He hears voices that tell him mean things. Sometimes they're the voices of his dead family.

And because he doesn't sleep much, he sees detailed shadows and things moving that aren't. It disturbs him, but he accepts it and tries to just push on. But sometimes if he hears voices more than he'd like, he gets sad and has to grip his head and whisper "shut up shut up shut up" to negate them.

He's delusional, too. AFO's grooming and constant monitoring of his whole life have definitely emphasized his distrust of everything around him. Sometimes he'll think that the people he's gaming with online are secret hero spies trying to get him to reveal himself. He also has a fear that someone is watching him in every location, and he'll think that even the silliest things are cameras or microphones, or that those around him are also spies. Later on, it becomes paranoia that his master is everywhere.

Then comes the doom of depression

For Tomura, he's technically always depressed. But when he goes into a depressive episode, he's pretty lifeless.

He's complacent about his goals. Sometimes he'll get a tiny idea that makes his brain go !, but then he thinks of all the planning behind it and immediately slouches down on any nearby furniture

He'll lay in bed for a long period of time doing nothing. Sometimes he'll try to play a game on his phone but he gets bored quick.

Tends to eat more during this time because it's the only joy he can get. And he gets bored. He is SO BORED

Anhedonia is a bitch

His brain dwells and rambles, yet his thoughts don't make sense to him? He's constantly thinking about how fucked up his life is, how better other villains are, and how much he hates All Might and heroes altogether. He tells himself that if it wasn't for all of that he wouldn't feel this way (relating to the depressive episode).

It overwhelms him and he tries to sleep it off, but he's somehow so depressed that he's UNCOMFORTABLE. His itching gets bad.

He is very suicidal during this time and hurts himself to try and subside it. If you asked him his reason for living, he'd tell you "to see this world crumble." But he's too busy crumbling in his bed.

Psychotic symptoms can occur during his depression, too. Especially if he hasn't slept.

His lack of medication usually causes him to swap back to mania somewhat soon (2 months or so). He definitely has rapid cycles.

Because his condition isn't managed, his brain is sort of in an in-an-out stance when it comes to his literal sanity. He has moments where he can definitely be level-headed (he gets rrly confident when he notices it) but when his anger and stress fuel him more than usual, he spirals and quite literally sees red. Sometimes he can't even tell if he's dreaming or not. Often mistakes the date and day of the week.

I might write a fic of the reader comforting bipolar tomura. I don't think I've ever seen a fic like that for any character.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura headcanons #tomura shigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki headcanons #bipolar shigaraki #the league of villains #shiggy #shigaraki x reader

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sporesgalaxy · 4 months

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I know this is something u were probably asked before but as the guy that has a good relationship with art....how do you do that??? I mean I get that this question is vague but how do you not care if it looks bad? Do you just?? Keep on going till it looks like you want it to look? Despite the agonies? You seem like you enjoy talking abt this thats why im asking, dont feel the need to answer if u dont wanna

hmmmm. You know, I don't think about the agonies much these days. But it's not that I don't care. I guess I've become a freak who sees beauty in the agonies, sorta? It's kind of complicated! I will do my best to explain!

First of all, I know that I have the unfair advantage of having no ambition. I don't have a goal for my art besides making art when I feel like it. That makes it easy to be less judgemental-- I remember having a rockier relationship to my own art during the time when I thought I would make it my career.

This is why I like talking about my perspective, though!! I think it's important to try not to let yourself be consumed by self-criticism as an artist, even if self-criticism is necessary for you, and hopefully my carefree way of looking at things can help balance things out haha.

Anyways, ambition or not-- and I know how this sounds but bear with me-- art doesn't ever look bad.

(Barring ethically harmful art, ugh, I don't want to get into ethics so just-- surely you know what I mean!!!)

Art gets a lot less stressful if you can tell yourself that no art is bad, and remember the reasoning behind that until you really believe it. It isn't a fast process, but it's very worth the work.

The truth is that art either looks how you want it to look, or it looks different from the way you want it to look, but both are ultimately neutral. You CAN make art that looks different from what you wanted, that you still feel pleased with.

When art looks different from how you wanted, the gut reaction you have is often to call it bad or get frustrated. And of course it's frustrating! Maybe you feel it's not as effective at communicating something as you'd hoped, or you feel it's not as visually impactful as you imagined...but it's important to remember those things are only your perception. Not an objective fact. And art is a two-way street! A communication between creator and observer! And communication is really weird and complicated.

•••

Other people's perception of your work won't ever be exactly the same as yours. Sometimes this is desireable and sometimes it isn't! Maybe your art will communicate the thing better to someone than anything they've ever seen-- even if a more effective version could theoretically exist, the "imperfect" version that actually exists and communicates is all that matters to the observer. Or, maybe a feature that turned out exactly how you wanted it to will fly completely over an observer's head, and not have the effect you wanted at all. A lot of the time, you'll never even know.

An artist can NEVER fully control an observer's perspective, so at a certain point you have to live with what you have. You already do this, to some degree, if you have ever EVER decided to stop working on a piece of art and share it. You can always keep adding to something. You can always keep editing. But sometimes, you stop. And perfection doesn't exist, so when you stop it must be because the art is good enough for now. And nothing about "good enough" is objective!

And is that really so bad? Surely people who grow fruit understand that a fruit which is smaller than they imagined can still feed somebody-- that at the very least it will feed bugs and microorganisms and be useful as fertilizer to grow more apples. Your art still means something, still accomplishes something, is still worth making whether it turns out how you imagined or not.

A lot of art is learning when to quit and move on. As a habitual perfectionist, this was something I had to learn early, to stop myself from erasing holes into every piece of paper I drew on.

There's this rule I was taught in middle school drama class: if you fuck up, act like you didn't fuck up. The audience doesn't have your script memorized, so odds are they won't have any idea you fucked up unless you tell them. Other art works the same way. No one knows what you wanted to make but you. And more importantly, a "perfect" version of your art doesn't exist (no "perfect" version of anyone's art exists, or ever will).

The version you made exists, so you have to find what's worth loving about that version. You have found what's worth loving in the imperfect art of others many times. Many observers will treat your art the same way you treat others' art. Why not treat your own art that way, too?

It sounds really REALLY corny, but I try not to think of this as embracing "mistakes." I think of it as celebrating coincidences.

I really really like coincidences. I like that every circumstance wasn't guaranteed to happen, that everything comes down to chance. I think all the little random things are beautiful because they turned out however they did, and not any of the millions of other ways things might have turned out. It's a coincidence that my genes expressed the way they did. It's a coincidence that my parents met in college. It's a coincidence that my oldest friend and I both got to middle school early every day, and stayed close even when we didn't share any classes.

Art is full of coincidences! I try to draw a straight line. The line does not turn out straight, because of the way my hand is shaped and the way my muscles contracted, because my body is not exactly like anyone else's in the world. No one else would have drawn that slightly not-straight line just exactly how I did. It's mine, and it's crookedness is what makes my art mine. Okay, maybe it's a little too crooked for what I want this time-- I'll erase it and draw a new crooked line at a bit of a different angle. There we go, I like that! Now it's my beautiful, irreplaceable crooked line! And the ghost of its predecessor guides the eye just so, and no one else's two crooked lines would guide your eye the same way, only mine! Isn't that nice on its own? Just to have made something that can't ever be replicated? To have made something no one else has ever made before?

You can also apply this in a bit less dreamy and more practical ways, I promise haha.

For example...I've never been a canvas flipper, as a digital character artist. I don't mirror my canvases to see if they still look preportional to me from either direction. I also don't usually draw visual novel character sprites that need to look good mirrored in either direction to serve their function, so it's never been a practical concern of mine.

I consider many kinds of distortion on a character I've drawn to be a good part of the visual flow of the image. Like a smear frame in animation, distoriton in the right places can make character art look dynamic and energized because it can lead the eye through a certain visual flow over the form of the character. If I were to flip the canvas, that eye-leading effect might hit differently because my American eye is used to reading from left to right-- perhaps it doesn't feel as "smooth" going in the opposite direction. This doesn't mean I need to change the distortion necessarily, it just means I prefer not to flip the canvas.

Often, these distortions aren't intentional. They're a coincidence of how my muscles move as I draw, and the areas my left-to-right American eyeballs instinctively pay more attention to. But the effect is still desireable to me. So, happy coincidence!

I think...that's the best I've got for now? Feel free to ask for clarification. I hope it's not total nonsense!

#asks #art tips

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mirai-e-jump · 10 months

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Hero Vision Vol.9 (2003/Winter) ft. Kamen Rider Ryuki Cast Members Pre-Final Episode Interviews (translations below)

Takamasa Suga (Shinji Kido) Interview (page 22,25)

"Recollections, within the calm after the war" Takamasa Suga

After a year of playing the star role of the protagonist in "Kamen Rider Ryuki," Suga-kun finally has time to get back to regular life…

Looking back, from season to season, what were the most emotional scenes that still remain in his mind? On an off day before recording the final episode, we asked him to look back on those passionate days.

...

"I always wanted to die. I wanted to fulfill my role within the show"

...

Suga: (niho~)

If the sound of Suga-kun's smile could be written out, it would look like that. It gives off a calm, quiet and tender feeling. At first glance, the main character of Ryuki, the annoying (?) Shinji Kido, doesn't seem to resemble him, but as the story progresses, we think they are very similar on the inside. It's impressive in the fact that he always tries his best to think about the challenges that appear before him while also moving forward, even when he "doesn't know what to do," he somehow manages to find integrity within the many possibilities, and puts them into action.

"You were so busy this past year, that you didn't even have much time to sleep. What memorable moments will stay with you forever?"

Suga: What made me happy was the movie "Episode Final." I'm very happy I was given the opportunity to play the lead role again, and that it was released nationwide. Since becoming an actor, it had been a dream of mine to do opening day stage greetings.

"However, in parallel to shooting the TV version, the movie was performed within a hellish schedule. It wasn't enough to just act happy or even be "enraged" about it, rather, it was physically demanding."

Suga: Man~ I couldn't understand the reason for anything that was happening at the time (laughs). Filming for the movie would start in the morning, then we would return to the hotel at midnight, sleep for about an hour, and then start filming on location again for the TV series.

"Every day, you had almost no private time. But even so, you said you never felt stressed because "doing the performance in and of itself was fun."

Suga: It's an unusual experience for an actor my age to be able to devote an entire year to a single role, isn't it? When playing a role, conveying the "joy" and "fun" of something was much greater than the "difficult."

"I see. It seems that Suga-kun's "pleasure" is being an actor itself. Then, on the other hand, were there any sad moments?"

Suga: Hmmm…The scene where Ren dies in the TV Special was really sad. While we were filming, I was thinking about everything that had happened up until that point…it felt like it was the final episode.

"There are multiple final episodes of Ryuki. There's the movie, the special, and the main show. As those who have seen the broadcast already know, there was an unprecedented development in the main story where the main character dies before the final episode."

Suga: I always wanted to die. If I could die in the show, then I could fulfill my role within in it…is the feeling I had. I didn't know I was actually going to die until I finally saw the episode's script. I read it for the first time on the travel bus, and cried straight throughout. As for the way in which he dies, it's entirely convincing.

Shinji, who had been in agony up untill that point, was finally able to let go of the burden he carried for so long and die. Shinji followed what he believed in, and in the end death awaited him…or rather, Shinji's Survive, wasn't it? (laughs).

Before, I would've been lost in all my choices, but now I was finally able to choose and follow through with what I believe in…like Shinji, I'm satisfied with it. Shinji had "nothing to point to," but in the end, I think he was able to show off "the strength that comes from having nothing"…is what I feel when filming (laughs). That's the point I hope to get across.

"You said you thought deeply about the theme of Ryuki for a while, and when producer Shirakura explained that among other things, the show was made based on the recent terrorist attacks in New York, you read articles on the subject."

Suga: It's becoming more difficult for people to understand what is "justice" and what is "evil" in the world. The same can be said about the world of Ryuki. I can't say for certain if what Shinji says is right. I can't really say if what Ren says is right either. Even now, I still don't have a clear answer as to what's right or wrong. But, I have a feeling like I'm starting to understand. For this, I think it's important for each and every one of us to ask ourselves, "What is justice?" I hope that through Ryuki, we've been able to convey these feelings to the audience.

"Many of the themes dealt with in ordinary televised dramas are that of love affairs. It's unique because usually, we only see such major themes taken seriously in longer running programs."

Suga: That's right. It can be hard for people to watch things that they don't understand. Even so, it's something that everyone should think about more!

The way Suga-kun makes his strong arguments seem to overlap with Shinji. His manager looked at him and laughed saying, "He seems to have grown a lot as a person over the past year." He was also praised on the set of another production, saying, "You're young, but you're good!" He feels that he has gotten alot out of Ryuki.

Suga: Even after the broadcast is over, I hope people will remember that this show existed and think, "This is what they were trying to say." As time passes and children become adults, I hope that they will still remember.

Satoshi Matsuda (Akiyama Ren) Interview (page 27,29)

"As human" Satoshi Matsuda

At a glance, Akiyama Ren of Kamen Rider Ryuki looks really cool. But, he is in fact, a very compassionate person. So what kind of person is Matsuda-kun, who played the role, really like? He says, "I don't like showing my true self," and we felt that there were no lies or bad faith in his words.

…

"In the past, I always looked at the people around me as rivals. It's much easier to think of them as enemies"

…

Matsuda: Good Morning.

The way he arrived made us feel as if an old acquaintance had come to visit. After hearing his voice, the nervous staff on set became oddly relaxed. He seems to be an unusual type an actor. When I told him that he was very natural, he laughed and said, "Yeah, my managers used to tell me that alot, they said I should become aware that I'm a celebrity.

Seeing him with relaxed shoulders, people say, he's a "nice guy," and "looks full of confidence." But what kind of person is the real Satoshi Matsuda?

"You write essays once a week on your blog "Matsuda Lab." Even when we read it, we can't see your true emotions."

Matsuda: Is that so? In the "lab" I intentionally write in such a way that the "image of Matsuda" is not particularly set. I thought it wouldn't be interesting to show my true character. If I did, I would lose the image of playing the role of "Akiyama Ren."

"Since the Fall, he's appeared in the Kansai regional TV program "Asa Cafe," which is an informational program, but he's also an actor, as he acts as the viewer's lover."

"Every 2 weeks he shoots 2 episodes while also filming Kamen Rider Ryuki. The opposite of Ren's character, he plays an upbeat and energetic character that speaks for 30 minutes straight. It's also understood that the script is as long as one episode of Ryuki."

Matsuda: At first I was under a lot of pressure, because all those lines were my lines. The crew comes from Osaka to Tokyo to shoot the program, and if they push back because the scene is NG (no good), they won't be able to make the last train home.

"Although he's busy filming every day, he's had his own TV show and has been featured in magazines and other media, over the past year, his popularity has increased rapidly."

Matsuda: I have to admit that the sudden boom worried me. I never thought I would be on an 8 a.m. Sunday morning show and not be able to walk the streets like a normal person…hmm.

"He had been aware of the recent tokusatsu boom from its start, which is why he took the audition. He had actually hoped this would boost his popularity. Still, he was baffled by the public frenzy."

Matsuda: One time, I was on site with a fever of 40C (104F). With the exception of the scenes I appeared in, I had to sit in a chair and cool my head with ice due to how bad it was. Then suddenly, while laying down, a random fan lifted my head with her hand and took a picture next to me. She and her friends then left saying, 'bye, until next time~." At the time, I got really angry. I was skeptical that such intense fans even existed…

"When something like that happens, I think, "What a weird world we're living in." On the flipside, he also has plenty of supportive fans that are loyal and kind."

Matsuda: I like to play games of catch when meeting with fans. I also write on the official fan site every day, so I'm close to them (laughs). I write at least 30 replies to fan letters every week.

"By the way, when you write for "Matsuda Lab," you don't reply to letters that end with "please reply."

Matsuda: I think that's what makes even the most favorable messages feel dull. I can't help but think they're thinking more about themselves than about me.

"He doesn't acknowledge those who call him "Knight," as he thinks, "they don't even know my name." Matsuda-kun is very sensitive to other people's feelings. Whenever someone offers true affection, he is almost like a cat, looking up at you as if asking, "Do you really mean it?"

Matsuda: I've always been sensitive to other people's feelings. Since I come from a single mother household, I felt as though I had to support my mother and sister. In the past, I always looked at the people around me as rivals. It was much easier to think of them as enemies. Especially when competing……

"Competing? Have you always competed with friends and the very world around you?"

Matsuda: I always thought so. However, when I came to Tokyo……on that day, I realized. I've noticed that "those guys I don't get along with," I ended up getting along with well later on. I thought to myself, "I've wasted time." Since then, I've never made assumptions about other people by our first meetings. I'm having a lot of fun meeting people, and opening one new door after another.

"And Ryuki, which brought you many good encounters, has also come to an end."

Matsuda: By the time this issue releases, the broadcast will be over. I wonder how everyone did…..There's always a discrepancy between the performance I imagine in my mind and the one that I actually do. This has been a difficult time for me, as I've been in a slump for over a month. The TV Special was the one were I made the least mistakes. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that I was able to create exactly what I had imagined in my mind. Where do I go from here? I have to develop into the person I see in my mind.

We're still uncertain of the type of person he is really is, but we really sensed his sincerity.

Ryohei x Takashi Hagino Interviews (Page 31)

"Heinous Men" Ryohei x Takashi Hagino

Zolda (Kitaoka) and Ouja (Asakura), arrived as two dark "Kamen Riders." Evil men who fight not for justice, but for the sake of his own desire. Money, appearance and of course, power. They already have these things, but are still hungry for more. And yet……women, for some reason, find men like them attractive? …

"I was certain I was a rider who would die much earlier (laughs)" "Well, it's a good thing you didn't die so easily"

… Hagino: Have you seen the script yet?

Hagino-san called out to Ryohei-san as soon as he arrived at the studio. He appears to be very enthusiastic. It's no surprise, the script for the ending had been delivered just yesterday. From the start, I asked them a very important question.

"Did you ever think that Asakura (Takashi Hagino) and Kitaoka (Ryohei) would be among the last riders that made it to the end?"

Hagino: Ah, no, not really (laughs)

Ryohei: Honestly, until just recently, I was certain I was a rider who would die much earlier (laughs).

Hagino: Well, it's a good thing you didn't die so easily (laughs). Don't you think overall, it expanded the story and made it more interesting?

"Asakura and Kitaoka are very involved with each other, but what kind of relationship do these two really have?"

Ryohei: I think maybe Asakura is instinctive, while Kitaoka is rational? They always get involved with each other because they're complete opposites. That's the kind of relationship they have.

Hagino: "Asakura is the kind of guy who just wants to fight. He thinks fighting has meaning, and will go off like a tea kettle at a moment's notice. So, when he goes to Kitaoka he'll say, "Oi, let's fight."

Ryohei: Kitaoka didn't want to help Asakura with his sentence, so he's the kind of guy who'll fight just for that reason. On top of that, Kitaoka is always provoking me (laughs).

Hagino: Yeah, and no matter how many times I'm caught, I'll just keep breaking out (laughs). In the first scene when Kitaoka and Asakura meet, the contrast between the inside and outside world, with a sheet of glass separating them, was very interesting to see.

"Come to think of it, it was impressive to see Asakura wearing a seat belt while driving the hijacked vehicle as he was trying to escape from prison (laughs)."

Hagino: Yeah, Asakura likes to wear a seat belt or even straitjackets. Even when he sleeps, he needs to be tied to something in order to feel safe (laughs).

"Regarding Asakura's character, wouldn't he have had plenty of chances to kill Kitaoka when he was in person?"

Ryohei: Like when he was on his knees (laughs). But for Asakura, fighting as a rider is far more pleasurable for him than fighting untransformed. That's why he brings out his Card Deck.

Hagino: Asakura naturally chooses to fight for the superior pleasure of fighting. He isn't afraid of dying, much less surviving to the end as a rider.

Ryohei: That's the difference between Kitaoka's and Asakura's fighting style. Kitaoka, who is fixated on living, tries to win by fighting as little as possible.

"Leaving the roles of Asakura and Kitaoka aside, how do Hagino-san and Ryohei-san feel about each other?"

Hagino: This type of question, it's not really a conversation, saying such stuff in front of each other like, "Well, Ryohei-san is (…), isn't he?"

"…No, that is a conversation (laughs)."

Hagino: "Well, Ryohei-san is cheerful and is the complete opposite of me. His character is so loud, that I once told him to shut up (laughs). But, I can't remember what he said in response.

Ryohei: Hagino-san doesn't say much, but his personality is that of a big brother.

Hagino: "Eh?! That's just not true. I'm just lonely. But, Ryohei, he makes everyone feel at ease."

"Do the two of you ever discuss your roles together?"

Hagino: We don't, and it's because I don't want to. If we talk about what we want to do or how we want to do it, how we plan on performing may need to be constantly adjusted. I think it's interesting to see how the two of us have developed separately when we end up bumping into each other. If the action is going to be intense, we'll talk about it beforehand.

Ryohei: I have no prior experience as an actor, so I just have to rely on my intuition. I didn't really understand the process of creating a role. But, thanks to the influence of Hagino-san, I think I'm beginning to understand a little more now.

"Finally, What are both of your future prospects, as well as a message to your fans."

Ryohei: Specifically, I'm scheduled to perform on stage this coming March, and would like to try out the realism of a live performance. I have not yet decided how I will proceed as an actor, so I'd like to challenge various other projects and improve my career in order to decide where I'd like to go from here.

Hagino: Any message for the fans?

Ryohei: "Ah, I will do my best in the future, so please lend me your support.

Hagino: Hey now, answer more thoroughly (laughs). I'll be releasing a photobook, so you'll be able to see Takashi Hagino from various different angles. I would like to play different roles in the future, so please continue to support me! To all the fans of the Ouja, I will show you all the final special attack of Genocider! It's going to be a blood bath…… I haven't seen Black Hole myself because it's CG, so I'm looking forward to the airing, and I'd personally love to put all the fans in that hole! (laughs).

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annabelle--cane · 2 years

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do you know what makes me crazyinsane? both jon and tim verbalize at some point that they can tell something's changed about sasha. jon says she seems off in mag 40 and she says it's all the stress and jon accepts it. tim mentions briefly in mag 65 that she isn't behaving the way he expects but bowls right past it. these two people were changed so deeply and permanently by their shared pain that when another of their friends shows up one day with a completely different personality they both think it's only to be expected. all of this in the magnus "themes of trauma shaping you in such ways that your former self feels barely connected to you" archives. pain and agony.

#tma #marina marvels at life

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jasonsmirrorball · 5 months

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honey i'll be dead (it won't always be like this) [756]

thunderstorms, gn!reader, allusions to depression/low mood, angst/comfort

the thunder outside seems a perfect end to the week you've had, booming outside your rickety bedroom window so fiercely you flinch from the blankets you've huddled yourself in. night falls on gotham and you wonder if you will see the familiar haunting glow of the signal cutting through the dense smog tonight. would crime stop for a bit of lightning?

your body locks tight with the next flash of white, tensing in preparation and – there it is, a bellow that makes you twist the sheets under your fingers anxiously. you half wonder if it isn't your own agonies that have manifested into the storm that's washed in over jersey this weekend, grief and fear and rage and seemingly every ugly emotion that had been swimming through your veins all week finally pouring out into the world to torment you once more.

jason comes in just as the power cuts out, lights flickering violently for a brief moment, as though considering whether to commit, before coming to a decision and plunging the apartment into darkness. one quick look outside the window shows it's extended to the entire block. it's silly to feel guilty. you feel it anyway.

the floor beneath his feet creaks – it's deliberate. he doesn't want to scare you, you can tell. there's a murmur of your name and you let out a breath. it's response enough and he crosses the threshold.

"what're you doing alone in here, hm?" it's said casually as he shucks his house slippers – the fuzzy black ones you had bought the first time he'd slept over, laid by the front door in wait of his arrival – and slides into bed beside you.

you shrug. i'm tired. i'm scared. i think i'm going to break. responses that go unsaid hang on the tip of your tongue, but it's weighed down by some invisible mass, and you stare into the space in front of you. the blackness pulses and swirls, shadows shifting as your eyes adjust to the dim light.

there's another roll of heavy thunder outside, so close it sounds as though it's right outside and your face feels taut with stress. your hand reaches for the one next to you, bumping around in the dark until your fingers brush against jason's. his hand curls around yours, one large palm swallowing yours and squeezing.

"'ve got an idea. come here."

you're lifted gently, arms cradling you to him and then the covers are being pulled up over your heads, your body curled up against his. the blanket does little to muffle the sounds outside, the rain beating against the windowpane only sounds marginally softer but he's managed to cut out some of the frigid cold in your apartment, leaking in through the poorly insulated walls. a dry heat settles in the small space and as you slump into him, a pitiful noise escapes your lips.

it's thin, and reedy, and a little wounded, and you can't help the flush in your face that follows, shame washing in like a tide when jason's arms tighten around you. it's dark under the covers, and your face is pressed to his shoulder. he can't see you, and yet he's seen too much in that moment.

"been a long week for you, huh," he mutters, so comfortingly your throat closes up. his hand is heavy on your spine, grounding you as your eyes water.

"so –" you cut yourself off, your voice, barely above a whisper, wobbles tremulously. "so long."

"made it through," he reminds you, but you feel something like a candle burnt too low, smoke plumes curling around a wick struggling to remain aflame. there is nothing in you left to celebrate, only a grief that buzzes in your head and heats your face.

you breathe out loud and it sounds like a sob. jason curls closer to you, and you press your lips together tightly, fingers twisting once more into the fabric within reach – his shirt.

"tell me it won't always be like this," you whisper, and you can feel the tears beginning to leak down the slope of your nose, wetting the pillow beneath your head.

there's a resounding BOOM.

jason's hands come over your ears, stroking the skin behind them. dry lips find your forehead clumsily, and he mutters a vow.

"it won't," he tells you. "it'll pass."

"promise me." it's demanding, and he has no power to wield your fate, but he kisses you as though he does, a reassurance pressed into the seam of your mouth.

"i promise."

me when i listen to it won't always be like this by inhaler whenever things are shit and only listen to that specific line because it feels like elijah hewson is promising me things will be ok. same energy as listening to don't let it break your heart and pretending it's louis tomlinson speaking directly TO ME! anyway i've had the shittiest week and a half and the weather has been so fucking awful and i'm scared of thunderstorms now! a lovely development that is SO useful when the weather decides to come down on us during what is supposed to be SUMMER. this is entirely self indulgent. but also born out of that one very lovely nonnie's thought that jason would come and comfort u during a thunderstorm. and well. if he is also scared, then. we are getting a pair of noise cancelling headphones.

#not me yapping in that note at the end lmfao sorry #this fic is unedited i just needed to write SOMETHING before i went insane #jay my heart #jasonsmirrorball #jason todd x reader

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contentloadingandstuff · 10 months

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A Miner's Fate - Kujou Sara x Male!Reader

CW: Limb loss, mobile formatting, Male! Reader.

A/N: There's an unusual amount of limb loss asks on this blog, huh? Well, I don't mind. But it is interesting, for sure.

Working in industry isn't an easy job. It never was, not in the ancient times, and still not nowadays. The scientific developments from Fontaine brought elevators and fire extinguishers, but they did little to alleviate the risk.

You couldn't be more thankful for your occupation. While others worked hard in the mines, you got the privilege to fill the role of the head geologist of Jakotsu Mine. Though your duties still included going into the mines, the trips were short and shallow - nothing like those of the actual miners. You only had to inspect the excavated ore and identify new veins.

Still, even those worry your fiance without end. The amount of sleepless nights she spent thinking about an accident in the mines is countless. Every single time there was news of an accident in the mines, her mind instantly went to you. Maybe you died? Or were buried in some closed off tunnel, soon to starve to death?

But truth be told… Deep within, Sara didn't believe something could happen to you. Such accidents exist only in rumors, right? They always happen to outsiders, people she never knew, never cared about. Not her Y/N.

And yet it came to her. It wasn't a question of if, but one of when.

A cave-in. You were doing a routine check up in one of the dead-end ducts when a methane explosion collapsed a part of the tunnel. Your coworkers had the time to hide by the walkway's edges, but you were caught in between two storage containers. Unable to flee, unable to save yourself. Crushed under tonnes of cold, hard rock.

Luckily, you didn't die in the incident. Right leg crushed to a pulp, the other one broken, neck fractured, all of your ribcage in pieces, skull cracked… It's a miracle you even survived transport.

"Don't you dare let him die" was what Sara told the surgeon as you were wheeled into the operation room.

The wait was long and painful. Being the general, Sara was used to stressful situations - not ones of this sort, however. It struck something she has had for not that long yet. A loved one. Sara didn't cry. Not yet. The time for that would be at your funeral, not now. She needed to be strong, not only for you, but for herself as well.

And strong she remained, for the entire nine hours. The uncertainty crushed her soul, bending and pushing the boundaries of her resolve. Yet she held firm.

The tears fell only when she could, at last, stand beside your hospital bed. Sara took your hand, wrapped in dry gauze, and cried into it. She apologized, for what - she didn't know herself. She slept inside the room, uncaring for her mundane duties. The war was long over. There was no more closure to be had, no more battles to plan. Only training and paperwork. She came out of it forever changed as well. Her realization of what exactly the Raiden Shogun got Inazuma into inspired a change in her priorities. Her loved ones, the only that would support and understand her, should be valued above all else. Of those people, only you remained.

When you woke up, her joy was immense. She thanked you, thanked the Archons, thanked the doctors you were safe. She could finally feel the grip of your hand, weak as it was, on her own. A part of the normality she lost that day was back. Only for a moment, however.

Sara knew that what she saw was not her lover, but pieces of him. Her whole world, shattered by the unfeeling earth. You were alive, yes, but the road to recovery would be long and taxing - of that Sara was sure. You could barely sleep, eat, talk, breathe due to the excruciating pain from your injuries. She heard your groans, moans, cries and gasps of agony on a daily basis. You were suffering, and she could do little to lift your pain.

She wasn't a doctor, but she would still try to help, as much as she possibly could. and help she did.

Her presence was priceless for you. Your life changed forever, all the nightmarish events leading up to the event resulting in pain beyond comparison. You've lost an entire limb. You would never be the same. You would not run, jump, or climb ever again.

This was impossible to accept, at first. You thrashed, cried, screamed at your unfeeling abuser. You cursed out every rock, every grain of sand for your situation. The screams fell on Sara's ears, squeezing out every tear she had in her body. She knew you needed time, but it didn't make anything easier. Seeing you in pain hurt her as well.

She left you until she heard absolute nonsense from your mouth. You told her you were a weakling, less than a man, less than a human even. You told her that you don't deserve her anymore. That you would only weigh her down, occupy her time, waste her effort.

If only she could slap you back then, she would have. Hard. Why you said those things is beyond her. A leg is nothing compared to you being alive. If she could, she would gladly give her own limb just to see you happy and healthy. To be able to see you smile again, to hear you laugh, to be able to tell you just how much she loves you.

During the following months, Sara never once left your side. She slept with you, ate with you, she cared for you. At her request, the medics showed her how to tend to all of the wounds and their respective bindings, and Sara followed their recommendations to the letter. While she was tending to your body, she tried to distract you with a conversation. Those weren't her specialities, not by any means, but she put real effort into every line. She, the esteemed Tengu General, even made attempts to joke. All in an effort to wipe that frown from your face. To see you smile again.

She assured you that losing a leg did nothing to decrease your value to her. More - it proved your resolve, as to withstand such an injury one must have truly remarkable endurance, both mental and physical. The wound was, and still is a proof of your might. To be able to crawl back up from something like this is no small feat.

As soon as the doctors told her that you would live, Sara started looking for a prosthesis. Using the advice of every doctor she knew, she selected a very expensive model, and ordered it from Snezhnaya. Your life and comfort were much more important to her than her personal conflicts.

She could have bought one earlier, yes, but she didn't. Sara knew that, if you would not make it, the item would be an extremely painful memoir of you. She wanted to wait to spare herself from the inevitable agony that would bring.

From the first steps, up to the short marathons, Sara was with you. She held your hand when you got up again, when you used the wooden supports, then a cane, until you could stand on your own two legs again. Even then, her hand always found yours.

Ultimately, despite the terrible nature of the situation, the experience brought you even closer to each other, and made you nearly inseparable.

Sara swore one cold night, under a full moon and a clear sky, that she would be there for you. And she wishes to keep that promise, for as long as she draws breath.

Thanks for reading!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact hurt/comfort #genshin hurt/comfort #injury hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #genshin impact kujou sara #kujou sara #kujou sara x reader #kujou sara x male reader #kujou sara x you #kujou sara x y/n #kujou Sara hurt/comfort

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chemdisaster · 7 months

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okay so i made this post a while back and now i've had more ideas

so there's a lot of potential with this. whether or not scar knows what he's doing, what kind of curse it is - things progressively going more and more wrong for the other hermits, them falling ill over the course of season 8, scar turning everyone into hybrids, SCAR CAUSING MOON BIG-

the idea i'm most insane over is the curse being an illness of some sort. so last life ends and everyone feels off. and at first they think it's just post-life game stress. but it doesn't stop. maybe it starts off as a small cough - but then it's cramps and lightheadedness and then people are fainting and coughing up blood. it's rough. by the time moon big happens, everyone's in awful shape and no one can figure out what's going on.

now, scar. he comes back from last life and he's - well, he's miserable. so he isolates himself, doesn't really speak to anyone if he can help it. he does hear bits and pieces about what's going on, small rants in chat, that sort of thing, and he's torn between "why should he care" and "good, let them suffer". he feels weird, himself - but compared to the anger and betrayal and hate and hurt coursing through him, it doesn't really stick out.

then maybe at some point he realises that stewing in his misery isn't healthy. and he wants to fix things, he misses his friends. so he starts making an effort to talk with the others more again. tries to convince himself that everything's fine, enough time has passed, he's fine. but he can't get rid of the burning anger and hurt he feels when he looks at them. can't help the vindictive pleasure when they cough in front of him.

so now things just keep getting worse for everyone, right. and scar is starting to suspect something's wrong. he knows what using his magic feels like, and something feels off. imagine the slow progression of that. him going from suspecting that something is going on, to dreading it, watching everyone bend over in pain whenever he's near, still being partly satisfied as they do-

when he's finally sure that he's the one causing this, i'm imagining him having the worst breakdown. it's everything he's feeling - all the things that happened months ago that hurt as if they're still happening now, but worse. the realisation that he lied to himself when he said everything was okay, that it's not and now other people are suffering because of it. the hopelessness because he doesn't know how to stop it. he doesn't know how to make himself not feel. he wants to fix this and a part of him is still happy that they're in pain.

now, imagine when they get to s9. all the effects of the curse are suddenly gone. everyone is happy. and scar immediately goes as far as he can because he can't let that happen again. and now he's not just sad, he's afraid. afraid of himself and what he can do, afraid that there's no amount of distance he can go, that as long as he exists everyone involved will keep hurting. and at this point maybe the curse turns inward.

imagine someone - grian because i'm a desert duo bitch - finding him. he finds him and scar is just curled up on the floor, pale, hugging himself, in pain, both physical and emotional. and grian kneels next to him and holds his face in his hands. and scar doesn't look at him, and he doesn't say anything. because nothing he says can fix this. not anymore.

imagine when it turns out that this can be fixed. scar lets grian know that he's too far gone, and he expects, begs him to drop it. but grian just keeps coming over. and others start coming over, too. they help scar through it, just sitting next to him as he writhes in agony on the floor, in enough pain that he finally truly lets himself feel - all the betrayal and hurt and guilt and why are they here, after it all, after what he did and what they did to him.

scar barely notices when it eventually eases up, at first. when no one around him falls ill. when he can look at the others and not feel the cold of a lonely mountain and the burning of a pool of lava. when he can breathe and not be tripping and stumbling over every inhale. when, bit by bit, it starts getting better.

his magic notices, though. and it starts to go outward again, but this time it's good. instead of dragging blood out of his friends' throats, now his magic grows flowers all around him - they're soft and pretty and a sign that he's healing. and maybe one day scar inhales their scent. and he gives grian a bouquet and asks if they can still be friends. and it's - it's okay. it's all okay.

in conclusion, aaaaaaaaa

#gtws angst #gtws #gtwscar #goodtimeswithscar #grian #desert duo #last life scar my beloved #last life #last life smp #llsmp #ll scar #last life scar #last life gtws #last life series #life series #life smp #textdisaster

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marc--chilton · 18 days

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mgv house!! okay so what if house is left alone in his & wilson’s apartment while wilson goes to a conference in another state, and something about being away from wilson for a longer period than normal mixed with a bad pain day triggers an early heat. he tries to ignore it for a day or so, since wilson had scheduled this so perfectly to line up with their cycles (which had synced and were due in like a week) BUT eventually he just Cannot Handle It so he calls wilson absolutely RABID with the need to be railed so hard he forgets his own name. cue wilson pacing a hotel room and trying to a) get a plane home asap, like calling around madly trying to find some way to get back to his omega. b) have desperate needy phone sex with house to try and help as much as he can from a distance and c) keep his own rut at bay which is becoming increasingly more difficult since he keeps hearing house whining and begging and pleading and whimpering about how desperately he needs to be knotted 🥰 pls also imagine what both of them would do the SECOND wilson opens the front door to their apartment. thank u for ur time

HELLOOOOOOOO ANON

some omegas cycles aren't so bad, manageable with toys if an alpha isn't available, but house's heats are SO bad. he fevers, he aches, and the stress to his system aggravates his leg until he's in agony. the echo of his Doctor Brain telling him the endorphins will help; his hands shook so bad when he tried to take some vicodin he dropped the bottle out of his nest, and getting out of it when he feels that bad is unfathomable.

he still has the phone at his bedside, though. and even as miserable and stupid as he is, he still manages to call wilson. luckily wilson is his hotel room in vermont when he picks up because house's keening is more than audible to any would-be passerby. he hadn't even had a chance to snarkily greet him before house was whining these awful rattling breaths. it sets off alarms immediately. he knows those noises.

"it's your heat, isn't it?" a meek yeah tinged with pain is his answer.

but when he tries to hang up so he can call cuddy, house sobs. the resolve shatters instantly. so wilson instead calls cuddy with the room's phone with his cell close enough for house to pick up his voice but with his thumb over the speaker to muffle the sounds of an omega in distress.

at first, cuddy simply does not believe him. "he's probably just bored and trying to trick you. there's that saying, 'everyone lies'--"

and it swells something ugly and protective in his gut, just like every other time he has to defend house from her, or the board, or vogler, or tritter, or the fucking hundreds of other people that have the power to make house's life worse.

"you think i don't know my own omega?" he growls without thinking. a challenge is clear in his words, one alpha to another. later wilson would wince at his choice of words and nothing else.

the line crackles with cuddy's sigh after a few seconds of silence -- even house's muffled whining on the cell has dimmed. "dammit, wilson," she huffs wearily. "he's already pulling you down to his level. at this rate you'll be in full rut by tomorrow, just in time for your panel--"

"i know, lisa." wilson has to set his cell down to pinch the bridge of his nose before he snaps again. "but i need you to find me the next flight back. he needs me."

cuddy's tone is laced with something almost sad among the ire. "he always needs you, wilson. you owe me." then she hangs up.

he lets himself have a moment of composure only to realize house has been quiet. cautious, not unlike how he would approach house when he's in the throes of it in person, he puts the cell back up to his ear. house is saying something and sheets are rustling. "house? you still with me? i can't hear you."

the shifting gets louder -- did he drop the phone? -- and suddenly house is panting into the receiver, "yours... 'm yours, always..." and wilson is FLOORED at how he can almost smell the pheromones through the phone, can practically see house's pathetic attempts to grind into the bed when his leg is spasming.

it's so pitiful it makes wilson's heart clench and his slacks tight. "oh, honey...."

#asks #anon #nsft #house md #hilson #this is certainly a fic idea :))) as you can tell by what ended up reading like an outline or first draft #crazy how my typing hands get possessed sometimes huh #(remembers how after the cycle's done house will pretend like he wasn't sobbing for it just days before) everything is so awesome right now #mgv

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satancopilotsmytardis · 2 months

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Virginity kink?

To be honest, by the time I got halfway through writing this one I was ready to downgrade it to a Sure, but I was already halfway done.

Dabi never considered his sex life. To be fair, he doesn't have one to consider, but that was more of an absent-minded choice than anything else. He people had offered before, but sex was messy and he's broken in such specific ways. He has open wounds across eighty percent of his body that he already struggled to keep clean and healthy while he was on the streets that he didn't want to deal with any other complications. He ends up getting his dick pierced because he kept getting hit on in the piercing studio he went to and he was tired of making excuses that didn't work on the chicks there. So he said he was getting his cock pierced and got his ladder just so he would have a very good excuse for a good few months. He doesn't care if other criminals find out that he's not fucking around. It's none of their business in the first place, and in the second, he doesn't really have any shame attached to his virginity. He was in a coma throughout most of puberty and then took years just getting healthy enough that he didn't end up with a fresh infection every couple of months, or laid out completely by the constant agony of his shattered nerves every other day.

And, on top of that all, he's never been interested in anyone. Not guys, girls, anyone in-between. Romantically, sexually, it's just a big ol' nothing for him. He can tell when people are conventionally attractive, sure, but that doesn't do anything for him. When he gets off, because he still does masturbate on his own, it's never to porn or fantasizing about anything. It's just stress relief, pain relief. Something he does in the shower as he tries to get rid of blood leaking from his seams or before bed when he just has to have something to let him sleep despite the pain. If it weren't for the fact he remembers being asked at school if he had a crush on anyone, or how Fuyumi and Natsuo both acted when they had their first crushes, he would believe those kinds of feelings got burned away on the mountain too. But no, he didn't understand it even back then.

He understands it even less when, after everything goes tits up in Kamino, he finds himself gravitating towards Shigaraki more and more. Finds himself thinking he's not as gross as he used to. That he is kind of pretty when he starts to let his hair grow out, that his eyes are a beautiful shade of red when he deigns to take the hand from his face, that... he's a good leader now that he isn't being hamstrung by AFO or Kurogiri. The first time he ends up leaning against the shower wall in their new hideout with his knuckles between his teeth as he imagines what it would be like to have Shigaraki's gloved hand moving over his cock, and his voice raspy in his ear, and cums so hard he evaporates the water hitting his body, he knows that he's fucked.

///

Dabi thinks he does a good job of hiding how badly he wants him, how worried he got over him during everything that happened in Deika. He doesn't feel an ounce of guilt completely ghosting the hero in favor of making sure that everything is perfect while Duster is recovering. It takes a month and a half for him to be healed and his prosthetics to be in place, but that's so little time compared to what it might be if they didn't have the mad doctor, so he's not complaining.

Absolutely not complaining even though he doesn't really know how they went from talking in his office, to Dabi being in his lap, his mouth moving against his. His tongue is in his mouth and Dabi feels like he might melt. Suddenly understands why people are obsessed with kissing because it feels wonderful, and his whole body is getting hotter. He would give up breathing entirely if it meant he could have Shigaraki's mouth against his anytime he wants it for the rest of his life.

But he's not going to get that as the other man catches him by his chin, holding him in place as he pulls back. Bright red eyes surrounded by soft loose waves of white, like blood on snow and Dabi feels breathless. "Dabi,"

He presses in again, and Tomura doesn't stop him, giving him another long, hot kiss before he gets both hands around his hips, pulling those closer, down harder into his lap and Dabi is the one pulling away with a gasp because it puts pressure against his crotch and he realizes that he's already half hard just from a few kisses.

Duster chuckles softly, pressing kisses along the staples over his cheek in a line until he's murmuring against the shell of his ear, "Oh, firefly, you're so sensitive. Like you've never been touched before."

"Haven't," he murmurs back, getting his hand on either side of the other man's jaw to try and pull him back into a kiss. "Never wanted anyone else."

He's not expecting to pull him back and find red eyes staring at him with naked shock and only then considers that maybe being untouched is a bad thing rather than a falsely 'pure' thing, or the neutral thing he's always seen it as. "Never?"

Dabi shrugs weakly. "Never. No one else," he feels heat rise to his cheeks. They're making out, but that doesn't mean anything. He's seen plenty of people hookup without wanting anything else from each other. He just... wants more than that from Tomura, and he doesn't know how to ask for that without sounding like he's doing something ridiculous like offering up his virginity as some kind of prize. "...makes me feel the way you do."

That gets a hand wrapping around the back of his neck and Tomura's mouth desperate against his, kissing him harder, deeper, but his other hand moves away from his hip, back more neutrally up to his waist. Kisses him until they're both breathless with it and then pulls back enough to speak, but Dabi cuts him off.

"Don't care about it. We can fuck, want to fuck you. This can be whatever you want. Not some desperate virgin looking to be your boyfriend--"

"What if I want you to be my boyfriend?" Pulls him impossibly closer, his voice intense and sincere. "Dabi, I've wanted you to be mine from the moment we met."

"You tried to kill me when we met." He says pointedly, breathlessly.

"My new crush just insulted me and I was being immature. Doesn't mean I didn't want you."

Dabi pulls him back in this time, moving his hands to Tomura's tie, trying to get the knot loose because he wants him and he's never gotten to have the things he's wanted before. Thinks that's not going to change when Duster catches his hand and pulls him to a stop. "Come on, don't need romancing or waiting. Don't make a big deal out of it."

"No, but you might like lube, firefly." And there is amusement in his voice. "And a bed is definitely going to make this more comfortable." Dabi pouts and Tomura presses a light kiss to his lips. "I won't make a big deal out of this, but I do want to show you the same courtesy that I normally do for my partners. Does that sound fair?"

"...Okay." He relents.

"Good boy. Now why don't we go back to my room and then I'll make you feel good, yeah?"

He gives another weak nod and lets himself be coaxed out of Tomura's lap.

///

Tomura still doesn't fuck him that night, but he does wrap his hand around both of their cocks and stroke while murmuring praise against Dabi's skin until he's trembling, and whimpering, and spilling all over both of their skin. But he does want to make sure Dabi actually knows what he's getting into as far as the logistics for anal and the other things he wants to do with him goes-- and there's so much Tomura wants to do. But he doesn't want to rush in with Dabi and have him get genuinely, seriously hurt physically or mentally given that Duster is apparently into 'harder' play than the average person. harder than any of the porn Dabi had ever tried to watch for certain. But smaller things, handjobs, blowjobs, eventually fingering him open and rubbing against his prostate until Dabi is sobbing and leaving puddles of cum and blood from his tears on the sheets, become activities they do a fair bit. Dabi learns and remembers to use his safe words when he needs them, learns what he likes and doesn't, how to ask for the things he wants, and... how to be in a relationship.

He ends up liking that as much as the sex when they finally get to the full breadth of it.

#tanco speaks #ask #asks #shigadabi #my writing #kink ranking ask

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crystalsnow95z · 4 months

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Part 2 of this story..

Tw: brief hospital scene, slight vomit

It doesn't matter how I bad i feel.. Taehyung is more important..

Yoongi returned to the bed room, gently pushing up Taehyung's shirt so he could slide the wet cloth over his fevered body. Taehyung flinched when it touched his skin,but didn't wake.

"Da*n.. the cloth is already getting hot.." Yoongi whispers, hands trembling as he dips the cloth back into the water to cool it.

"Hyung, Hyung let me do it.." Namjoon tries to take the cloth, but Yoongi quickly pulls away, making the washcloth drip onto the table.

"No. I got it.." Yoongi says irritably, quickly softening his tone when he hears it. "I got it. You should go find something to eat. You haven't eaten today.."

"You haven't either Hyung." Namjoon retorts. "You don't look well hyung.. I think you should take a break.." he reaches to touch Yoongi's forehead, but Yoongi pulls away.

"I'm not hungry." Yoongi rewets the rag,moving the end of the bed to wet Taehyung's legs, jumping when Taehyung starts coughing again.

"If he gets any worse we'll need to take him to a hospital.." Namjoon says softly, brushing hair from Taehyung's cheek.

"I'll take care of him.. I don't want him panicking if he wakes up and none of us are there.." Yoongi gently rubs the cloth over the bottom of Taehyung’s foot. They say if your feet are cold you'll feel cold.. maybe it'll work to soothe his fever..

Taehyung whimpers in his sleep, Yoongi pulling away in case he is the cause, tensing when he continues to shake even after he stops. "Is he having another bad dream?"

"I don't think he's gonna get much sleep until we get his fever down. I don't think it's a nightmare though. His heart isn't going up.." Namjoon gently scratches Taehyung's back, trying to comfort him.

Taehyung clings to Namjoon, trying to get warmth from his leader. Namjoon pulls Taehyung close to him, brushing his bangs from his face. "I got Tae for now. You go eat. Okay? You're older, so you should eat first. You can come back after.."

Yoongi doesn't respond to Namjoon's words, pursing his lips together with his eyes closed tightly. He didn't believe Namjoon. It's not my fault he's sick, but it's my fault it's gotten this bad. He's so uncomfortable he can't even rest well..

"Hyung..Taehyungie wouldn't want you stressing yourself out over this. He loves you, you know? We all do. Don't be so hard on yourself." Namjoon says softly, poking Yoongi's side with his toes. "Hyung, please relax.."

"Let me do this, okay? I'll eat when his fever goes down. I won't be able to stomach anything like this.. please Joon." Yoongi pleads softly, looking into Namjoon's eyes.

Namjoon sighs. He's not going to back down. I know that look.. "Alright.. I'll go eat then come back." He leaves the room, letting Yoongi take his spot by Taehyung's side.

Yoongi takes a shaky breath, closing his eyes tightly. I don't deserve your love.. His heart raced in his chest, pounding in his ears. Taehyung's coughing in his sleep was the last straw, breaking the wall he was trying so hard to keep up.

Yoongi puts the cloth back into the bowl, wrapping around Taehyung's body, burying his face in his back as the tears flow down his cheeks. "I'm sorry..I'm sorry Tae..I s..sh..shou..ve..been a..g..go..good hy..ng..I..i.." his voice breaks into a sob, unable to get the letters to form on his lips.

Yoongi's chest ached as his heart throbbed in his chest, his breath coming out as short shaky gasps. Even with his eyes closed tight, he could feel the dark haze wash over him, making him dizzy and sick to his stomach. "I'm s.s..so..rr..rey.." he sobs in a low whisper.

Taehyung places his hands on Yoongi's arms, blinking slowly in confusion when he feels the tight grip around his body, hearing the agony in Yoongi's voice. Hyung is crying? Why? Please don't... don't cry..

Taehyung wanted to comfort him, but he could hardly get a breath in between the chest rattling coughs, giving him no chance to get any words out.

I have to stop.. I have to calm Hyungie.. he's.. he's really scared.. he's scared.. because of me..

Taehyung leans into Yoongi's chest, nuzzling underneath his chin to try to comfort him, but the Deagu rapper doesn't react to it. Yoongi was hardly breathing, his anxiety drowning him.

Taehyung bites back the urge to cough, forcing his voice to come."No..no scare..no scare.." he tried speaking, but his voice came out as a raspy whisper. "M..m..kay..I'm...kay.."

Yoongi hardly recognized Taehyung's voice as his, sounding young and vulnerable. Sh*t.. I woke him up.. I need to calm down.. I'm just going to make him worry..

"I'm o.. okayTae.." Yoongi pants, trying to slow his breath. His head was spinning, the blood pounding in his ears and his chest.."It's okay..it's okay.." he was telling himself as much as Taehyung, biting back a sob.

"Cry.. Cry don't.." Taehyung pleads when he hears Yoongi sniffling, trying to get his eyes to focus on his caretaker. "Hyung.. hyung.." His voice comes out as a desperate whimper, trying to think of something that could stop the tears from flowing down Yoongi's cheeks.

Yoongi forces himself to take deep breaths, trying to slow his breathing. Why can't I do anything right today? All I've done is make Tae feel worse...

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry..I'll..I'll stop.. jus..just.." Yoongi coughs, struggling to catch his breath. He squeezes his eyes shut, pursing his lips together.

Taehyung moves to face Yoongi, letting out a soft whimper when his muscles scream in protest, his fever making every movement hurt. He wipes Yoongi's cheek with a shaky hand, nuzzling underneath his neck once more. "Please..please.." He whispers, coughing after.

Yoongi holds Taehyung close, feeling his body trembling in his arms, his breath coming out as little coughs. "Are..are you okay? Can you breathe, okay?"He asks in a soft, worried tone loosening his grip on the ailing vocalist. "Ah..Sh*t.. Tae...?"

"Frozen.." Taehyung murmurs cuddling back into Yoongi's chest, unaware of how hot his body was. He buried his face in Yoongi's chest coughing hard, squeezing Yoongi's arm. "Hyung.."

"I know baby, I know.. we..We need to d..do some..thing about your fever.. do you think you can sit up and take some medicine for me?" Yoongi takes a deep breath, focusing all his energy on getting Taehyung's fever down. I need to pull myself together..I don't have time to feel sorry for myself.. whats done is done..

"Spin..spinny..sick..spinny.." Taehyung tries to think of the correct words to explain how every time he opened his eyes, a nauseating wave of dizziness crashed over him, making him afraid to open them. He didn't want to get sick. Not again. "Yoon..Yoon no..do.."

"Taehyungie.." Yoongi whispers his name, gently pushing him away. He didn't want to make him move, but he had no choice. It's almost insufferable to lay with him, and he can hardly speak.. I need to get some medicine in him.

"No..no..stay.." Taehyung tries to move closer to Yoongi, shivering violently.

"I'm staying here Tae, its okay, I'm right here okay?" Yoongi puts his hand on Taehyung's shoulder, reaching for the medicine bottle. "We need to try. It's okay if you throw it up.. its okay if you throw up before too.. we just need to at least attempt to get some medicine in you, your fever is getting out of control baby.. we need to bring it down.."

Taehyung doesn't answer him, making Yoongi's blood run cold. "Taehyung?" He freezes when he realizes that Taehyung hasn't been actually answering him. He's not processing what I'm saying.

Yoongi gently sits up Taehyung, tensing up when he hears him moan in pain. "I know.. I know.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.."

Taehyungs stomach lurched, gagging up nothing foamy liquid, clamping his hand over his mouth with a desperate whine. Yoongi quickly grabs the trash bin, moving behind Taehyung to support him.

"Hoba! Namjoon-Ah! Seokjin-hyung..! Jimin-ah!" He calls for everyone one by one until someone answers him. Namjoon and Jin rush in the room when he hears the panick in Yoongi's voice.

"Fu*k.. Taehyungie.." Namjoon sits on the bed next to him, rubbing Taehyung's back, eyes widening when he feels the heat coming off him before he even touched him.

"We need to get him to a hospital.." Jin sits on the other side of him, dialing on his phone with shaky hands. "His fever is way too high.."

Yoongi paces in the hallway by the waiting room. He didn't care about the people filming him and taking photos. All he cared about was the doctor returning to tell him Taehyung was okay.

Please, please let him be okay..

Yoongi wasn't religious, but since they entered the hospital an hour ago, he continued to desperately pray for Taehyung to recover.

"Hyung, you look really pale.. I think you should sit down and drink some water.." Namjoon tries to stop Yoongi, grabbing him by his shoulders.

"I'll sit after I see Taehyungie." Yoongi pulls away from Namjoon, stumbling forward when a wave of dizziness hits him. No.. no I can't be sick now.. they have enough to worry about..

"Woah, Hyung.. be careful.." Namjoon hugs him, letting Yoongi lean against him. "I think you're running a fever.. you're hot Yoongi.."

"I don't care.. I'll be fine.. I just need some fever reducers.. it's fine.." Yoongi's body doesn't agree with his words, the vertigo not fading, his knees buckling underneath him.

Namjoon helps him to his knees safely. "You need to see a doctor.. You might have caught what Tae has.."

"No.. no I'm..I'm just stressed. I'll feel better after seeing Taehyung.." Yoongi hears the sound of footsteps approaching, turning his head towards the sound, trying to stand when he sees the doctor.

"Taehyung-sii is stable.. the medicine worked to bring his fever down. He'll make a full recovery in a week tops." The doctor gives a reassuring smile.

Yoongi falls to his knees, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Woah hyung are you okay?" Namjoon kneels next to him.

"Taehyungie will be okay.. that's all that matters.." Yoongi finally let's himself relax, leaning against Namjoon.

"No, getting you okay matters too.. Doctor, could you please look at my friend here as well...?" Namjoon asks, finally touching Yoongi's forehead. "He's running a fever as well.."

(This is what was cut from the original part. It was written to continue with Yoongi, but I haven't had the time to add onto it.)

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sphylor · 11 months

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yk what the masses want

how did dew start going kitty

the massess demand it!! warning that this does contain a bit of angst so proceed with caution. it also contains raindrop being so so soft. thanks to @gh-woah-st and @divine-misfortune for the help as usual fhshbfhdsb. the origins of kitty Dew below the cut:

Ifrit was the one that brought out the kitty in Dew. he made Dew feel safe, gave him a space where he could be soft and affectionate. Dew trusted him with that part of himself. but he never went into full kitty mode. it was just that his brain would go a bit fuzzy and softer around the edges. he was cuddly and sensitive, his brain relatively blank. but he was still himself. he could still talk and think normally, not reduced to instinct just yet. he still would have honestly died of embarrassment if the others ever saw him like that at the time. it was something that Ifrit only got to see at the time.

and then suddenly Ifrit is gone. the fear and anger and agony over him losing half of his pack, combined with the physical and emotional stress of the elemental change sends him straight into full on kitty brain for a day or two. he locks himself in his room and when he comes back around he realises how much time he lost there and is so concerned. it happens more than once during this period. and going kitty is not a nice experience for him. he locks himself in his room whenever he feels it coming on and in his kitty brain he is terrified. he has no idea where Ifrit is. he doesn't know what happened to the one person who made him feel safe. no one knows what happens when he locks himself away in his room. they just think he needs his space for a bit and leaves him to it. if they hear the pained crying and meowing they dont question it or bring it up to him.

things get better, though. things calm down and he grows closer to his new packmates. they bond and Dew realises he's hopelessly in love with them all but especially Rain. they're boyfriends and in love and so gross and soft about it. he still locks himself away when he goes kitty, though. he doesn't even tell Rain what's going on.

its when they're cuddling after a particularly stressful ritual that it happens. Dew's tired and overwhelmed but Rain is so gentle with him, so sweet and he can feel the familiar haze creeping up on him as he lies there. he goes to sit up, to physically chake the feeling out of his head, but Rain reaches out to him. he hums softly in his half asleep state and asks Dew to come back. Dew hesitates for a second maybe but he cant bring himself to say no to Rain so eventually he sinks back into his arms. Rain buries his face into Dew's hair, tracing little circles into his hip. and Dew is just so fucking tired that it just. happens. Rain's to sleepy himself to register the shift in Dew. he just thinks that he's gone nonverbal again. but kitty Dew is so content there in Rain's arms. he's too tired to do much more than nuzzle into Rain's neck but he's purring up a storm and just being so sweet. its the first time he's felt like that whilst in kitty brain. its the first time he's felt safe since Ifrit.

in the morning Dew is mortified, though. he avoids Rain all day because that shouldn't have happened. Rain shouldn't have seen that. they do talk it out after Rain tries to find out What's Going ON and he makes it so clear to Dew that he can be as vulnerable as he needs to be with him. he'll never judge or think differently of him. he'll be there to protect him. from then on going kitty around Rain isn't as bad as it used to be. he still has some problems with letting himself go into that headspace, still associating it with everytime he had to lock himself in his room and go through it by himself. but with Rain he feels so safe. so content and happy. like everything is ok again.

(aaaaa this is really long if someone sends me an ask i will make a post about how the other ghouls found out about him going kitty but for now this is the end of this post)

#kitty dew #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #poor dewdrop...#but he's okay now #he's got his mousey :3

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youngpettyqueen · 9 months

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I could use a distraction too tbh so if you're in the mood for it: something with Charles and Hawkeye and hurt/comfort with either of them experiencing some non-dangerous pain (hangover, migraine, muscle cramp etc etc whatever sparks joy)

yesssssssss

Hawkeye woke up with a migraine. This isn't a common occurrence, but it's also not unheard of. His usual solution is to get a shot of morphine into himself as quickly as possible and hope for the best, but today it seems to have hit with all the speed and force of a truck on a highway, rendering him very nearly immobilized with pain.

Charles ended up getting him the shot. He's not a monster, of course he was going to help. He's also not unsympathetic to Hawkeye's plight, having suffered a few migraines himself when he first transferred here.

(He also just hates seeing Hawkeye in pain, not that he'd ever admit to that.)

So, he gave him the shot. Promised to check on him later, and thought that was the end of it. This was foolish, apparently, because before he could move away, Hawkeye had him by the sleeve. And, well, he couldn't exactly yank him down, but he did tug on his sleeve. Very pathetically and very insistently.

"Stay." Was all he managed to say.

So if anybody asks, Charles will be telling them Hawkeye strong-armed him into the cot.

He's lying on his side, and Hawkeye's tucked up against him with his face buried deep in his chest. Charles has managed to get the blanket over both of them, and he's maneuvered his robe to cover Hawkeye's face, offering him some more shelter from the daylight. Hawkeye's arms are wrapped loosely around his neck and he's got one arm around him in return, though with the other he's holding a book. One of Hawkeye's, the first non-pornographic book he found within reach. Some sort of detective noir.

It's not particularly entertaining. But it's better than nothing.

They've been here for about 20 minutes. Fortune has been kind in that it's a quiet day, no wounded expected. BJ had stopped by after breakfast to see what was keeping his tentmates, and had a grand old time very quietly teasing Charles while Hawkeye apparently slept right through it. BJ did, however, promise to keep Potter out of their hair, so he didn't hold a grudge.

Charles is skimming a passage that's going into far too much detail about legs, of all things, when Hawkeye stirs for the first time. He pauses in his reading, glancing down at his sleeping companion.

"How's your head?" He asks quietly.

"Splitting." Hawkeye replies, miserable and muffled.

Charles frowns. "I can't give you more morphine," He tells him, "Not yet, anyways. Do you want water?"

Hawkeye's arms tighten around him. "Don't go," He groans, "Don't... don't go."

Charles sighs quietly. "Alright," He agrees, easier than he's ever agreed to anything, "Go back to sleep. It'll help." He advises.

"Can't," Hawkeye mumbles, "Hurts too much."

Charles lowers the book. "You haven't slept at all?" He questions. Hawkeye makes a weak affirming sound, and he lowers his book, "You've never had one this bad before. Maybe I ought to take you to post-OP." He muses.

Hawkeye's arms tighten even more. "No," He protests, "Post-OP's... bad. Too bright."

Charles can't really argue with that. Still, he doesn't like the idea of just lying here doing nothing while Hawkeye's sleepless in agony. "I'm going to try something," He tells him, "If it doesn't work, I'm taking you to post-OP. You can wear sunglasses."

"I'll throw up on you." Hawkeye warns, though he sounds like he may be threatening him.

"You can certainly try." Charles replies, unbothered. He puts the book down and brings his hand over, slides his fingers into Hawkeye's hair and cradles the back of his head. He knows where Hawkeye holds his tension, can feel the stressed line of his neck, the rigid, hunched shape of his shoulder riding up to bump into his wrist. He presses in firmly, moving his fingers in slow, steady circles.

The reaction is immediate. Hawkeye groans again, louder, though this time the relief is obvious. He sinks into Charles, tension melting off of him as he practically liquefies. His shoulders sink a tick, his hold loosening slightly as he just... lets go.

Charles scratches into his hair, keeping the pressure steady. "Better?" He asks.

Hawkeye just groans again in response. Like an old cat purring away. He squeezes tighter again, but this time his shoulders don't hitch up so much.

Charles can feel the harsh line of his neck giving way bit by bit under his hand. So, he keeps going. Hawkeye stills completely after a few minutes, and still he doesn't stop.

(If he ends up dozing off with his hand still in Hawkeye's hair, well... that's his business.)

#mash #fic bitching #shorts #charles winchester #hawkeye pierce #otp: and their sons #anon I hope this was a lovely distraction for you cause it sure was to me #inspired by the fact ive had many headaches lately #giving Hawkeye what I wish I had #this was lovely to write ty for the request!

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