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bloodynectarine · 2 years

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Boiling point

After weeks of holding himself together and setting clear boundaries, only for them to be broken over and over again, MC snaps.

tags. male mc, post-lesson 16, belphie is his own trigger warning, angst, ptsd, mild violence, hurt and comfort.

notes. i don't want therapy, i want revenge. everyone got over belphie killing us way too quickly, and i find it frustrating. you know what would be really fun? to punch belphie. love him, but the amount of serotonin he would bring into my life if i could just… punch him once. a boy can dream.

Dying and somehow living to tell the tale was not exactly in your plans when you decided to help the demon stuck in the attic.

Sure, you knew it was dangerous and sure, you understood it was a gamble. But you never quite got that your life was at stake until you felt Belphegor's cold grip around your neck and your vision started to get fuzzy at the edges.

Oh, you thought, with startling clarity.

I'm going to die.

You may still be here, but no, you did not survive Belphegor's wrath and hurt. The sensation of phantom hands pressing down your throat never quite left you.

And Belphegor is nothing but a cruel reminder of the night you died.

First, comes the terror. Even with the pact to protect you, in the days following the event, you can't help but freeze every time Belphegor is in the same room.

As you get used to his presence around the House of Lamentation, as he insists in siting next to you during breakfast and in holding your arm on your way to class, the terror slowly subsides, opening way for a different, less familiar feeling.

Annoyance. Anger. Borderline rage.

Who does he think he is?

Who does he think we are? Best friends, family?

“Belphegor…”, you call for the demon that's already laying on top of your lap, with a tense smile hanging from your lips.

This week's movie night was held in your room. It was one of the rare occasions in which all the inhabitants of the House of Lamentation were present. Even Lucifer is here, looking comically out of place, regal and all seriousness, as if he were in the middle of a meeting and not watching a three-hour-long romance anime film.

Mammon got off from his “rightful place” (“DIBS”, the demon of greed shouted as soon as you sat down, throwing himself across your lap), to rip the remote control out of Levi's hands, who kept rewinding the same scene over and over again (“It's really important for the plot!!!”).

And in the middle of the squabble, Belphegor appeared out of nowhere to climb into your lap, and just. Cuddle.

At your call, he looks up and blinks lazily at you, with his big eyes and his messy bedhead. And the image should be endearing, really, but your chest feels cold, and you can feel your limbs locking in place. You feel trapped, uncomfortable. Ah, it's fear.

“I need. A bit of space. Could you sit somewhere else?”, you manage to let out, and your voice is the only sound in the room. Quarrel and movie long-forgotten, everyone is watching the two of you. Beel was the one who took over and put the film on pause.

Belphegor blinks the drowsiness out of his eyes. His brow furrows, just a little, and if anything, he looks put off by the question, a little lost.

“I don't want to sit anywhere else. I know Mammon was here just seconds ago, but I'm a better cuddle-partner than him anyway. You can ask anyone.”

And he doesn't move. He lays his head against your chest with a yawn.

“I don't…” want to be close to you. You stop yourself from uttering those words, mindful and considerate, truly doing your best. You don't want to lie either, so you decide to play around with the phrasing. “I'd rather you gave Mammon his place back. Or, you know what? I can change seats myself.”

Your tone is as lighthearted as you can manage, and you start to get up from the couch, with Asmo, who's sitting next to you, moving out of the way to give you the space that you need. The space you very specifically asked for.

But Belphegor's weight is heavy against you and traps you in place. Not only that, but his hand reaches for your arm and pulls, looking at you with the same bewildered expression as before, genuinely confused. When you fall against the couch, still under him, you're reminded of how strong he is. Of how weak you're in comparison.

“Oi, Belphie. No one is better at cuddles than me”, says Mammon after a too long pause. “And of course he wants to be with the great Mammon, everyone does. Now move, we still have, like, two hours left of the movie and if we don't finish it tonight, Levi is going to complain all week.”

Levi, who would normally jump into the conversation to defend himself, is barely visible, half hidden between Beel and Satan. His eyes dart between you and the hand that's holding your arm.

“Well, we are already so comfy, so I won't get up”, you wonder who “we” is. Belphegor talks lazily and moves the hand that isn't holding you in a dismissing manner, as if this was not more than a bothersome request, interrupting his nap for nothing.

Your teeth grind together, and there it is, once again. The ugly pressure that holds your gut in a tight grip, the heavy discomfort in your throat. Once foreign, but now you can tell it apart so easily. Anger.

“Belphegor. You heard him already.” This time, Lucifer is the one talking, and he sighs as he gets up, coming closer in an attempt to pry him away from you.

“Oh, please.” Belphegor rolls his eyes, clearly irked by Lucifer's intervention. “We are okay. Right?”, he looks back at you, and this time around his voice is filled with doubt, bordering hopeful, searching for something in your eyes.

“We aren't.” At last, you say it, flatly, and it comes out sharper than you intended, if the way Belphegor flinches and Asmo whimpers is any indication. You're tired, what little patience you have left is quickly running out thanks to the stubborn remarks and your words falling on deaf ears. “Let me move.”

The demon on your lap has the gall to look affronted, hurt. His bewildered expression does nothing more than increase the feeling already boiling deep within you. You can feel Satan's eyes boring in your cheek, but you refuse to look at him.

“Hey… Relax”, Belphegor mutters, now looking a little concerned too. For you. He's worried about you, and yet he still won't get up. “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

What's wrong.

What's wrong?

You're so taken aback by the question that by the time you react, his hand is already on its way to hold your cheek.

The most violent of flashbacks comes through you, a whiplash that hits you with the force of a truck. His handprints on your neck, trying to catch your breath, feeling cold all over, with the only warmth coming from your own blood ringing loudly in your ears, flowing right next to his voice, so full of hatred.

You can't freeze this time around, you need to move, you need to run, you need to do something, anythi--

“Belphie, I don't think you sh--” Satan tries to warn him, but it's too late.

By the time Belphegors fingertips touch your cheek (and this time they're warm, not dead-cold, you notice with surprise) your fist is already hitting against his nose, punching him right in the middle of his face, with a force you didn't even knew you had in you.

Not that you've ever done it before, but you can imagine this is what it feels like to hit a wall. Your hand hurts and goes numb.

The impact pushes Belphegor against the cushions, his hands flying to cover his nose. And any other day it would have been impossible, your punch would never land (he's that much faster, that much stronger), but right now he was so worried about you, so desperate to stick by you. His guard was as down as it will ever be.

His nose is bleeding, you notice, at the same time as Asmo gets up with a gasp. Levi shrieks in the background, and Mammon let's out this weird noise, a mix between one of his “Oi”, your name, and a scream.

Everything stands still, and, to your credit, you're just a shocked as everyone else.

With the punch, all anger has left your body, and now you're just a bunch of nerves, looking at Belphegor with big eyes. Belphegor looks back at you, so shocked, and you suddenly feel like crying. Oh, how much you hate being an angry-crier.

Satan is the one that breaks the silence, with a heavy sigh. “Told you so.”

Beel comes next, taking two steps in your direction but stopping when you raise your palm. You're trembling, but you come close to Belphegor all the same, refusing to back down.

“Asshole.” It's the first thing you say, and defying the impossible, Belphegor's eyes grow even wider as you tower over him, kneeling on the couch.

“Are you deaf? Wasn't I clear enough? Loud enough?”, and when you raise your fist in the air, Lucifer approaches, but all you do is gently punch Belphegor's chest. Again and again. “I told you to move. Several times. And still, you didn't. I was… I was dying of fear, and you weren't moving.”

“You, inconsiderate shit.” Punch. “You, deaf moron.” Punch.

“You… Stubborn cow.”

Belphegor has let the blood simply flow across his face, and now he's kneeling in front of you, holding his own hands, the same surprised look on his face.

And that's that.

You let your arms fall with a groan and simply sigh. For Diavolo, violence really isn't for you, you are so tired.

“S-Should we separate them?” Levi asks in a trembling voice, frantically waving his hands, unable to decide whether to approach or flee.

“No. He has more to say.” Satan gently holds Levi's wrists, and waits.

That's when you realize that yes, you got more to say. In fact, you've had something to say for way too long, and now you're dying to get it off your chest.

“I gave you my trust, and I knew I was being childish and reckless in doing so, but all I wanted was to help. I cried for you, I felt for you, and I did everything I could to be by your side even though all I had to offer was just. Just me. Mortal, human. And in response, you killed me.” Belphegor recoils at your words, but you go on.

“It hurt. It still hurts, even now. Sometimes I see you and all I can think about is your betrayal.”

Belphegor looks down, biting his lips, in silence. You can see his hands shaking, and you remember your talk under the stars, his eagerness when he offered you a pact. When he gave you the control you needed. His hands were shaking back then, too.

With a groan, you reach out to hold his chin, lifting his face. You take the long sleeve of your pajamas and begin to wipe the blood running down his chin, across his lips. Slowly, with care.

Your fingers run through his hair just to be able to look directly into his eyes. He looks anxious, fearful, and you know that your next words have the power to break or mend his heart.

So you decide to, once more, open yours and leave the rest in his hands.

“I don't hate you. And this isn't me cutting our ties. I understand your pain, I really do. Please, understand mine.”

Your thumb caresses over his forehead. Carefully, gently.

“I need time. I'll let you know when I'm ready.”

Belphegor inhales and exhales deeply, holding your gaze. Slowly, but surely, he takes your hand between his, from his forehead to his lips, leaving the lightest of kisses against your palm. You feel the pact mark that binds you together tremble and sing.

“I'm sorry. For the pain, for my insistence, I just… Wanted to be close. I need to be close. I'll wait for you.”

Straightforward as ever. But you are struck by the sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, and this time around it takes you no more than a second to nod.

“Right. Be good and wait for me.”

Unable to resist, you pat his head, just as you would to a small, rebellious child. He's the baby of the family, after all. He groans, and you laugh, feeling so much lighter. And unbelievably tired.

By the time you remember that you're not alone in the room and turn around to placate the others, you make eye contact with Satan.

He's looking prouder than ever, the little smile on his lips telling enough. “Go on”

The brothers needed no further prompting to launch themselves at the two of you, a jumble of limbs and shrill voices.

“MC, that was, as usual, reckless. From now on, fist fights are forbidden in and out of the house. Evade further conflicts.”

“B-But wasn't MC so cool?!?! Belphie is so much stronger, but he was down with one punch! W-way too op, MC!!”

“Oi! Human, how dumb can ya be?! Tell me before you go around punchin' demons, I can punch them for ya!”

“I knew you were good at controlling your anger, but I never imagined that much. You are full of surprises.”

“Belphie, gosh, your clinginess finally got you in trouble, mh? Your surprised face was so cute! Do you need concealer?”

“Belphie, does it hurt? Do you need ice? We have popsicles in the freezer… Wait, I ate them all yesterday, sorry Belphie… Do you want me to go and buy more? MC, which flavor would you like?”

“We are good, Beel.” Belphegor answers, still looking at you. “Right?”

You laugh at his not-so-subtle search for assurance, and your chest feels astonishingly full. “We will be, for sure.”

Movie night turns right into a sleepover after that, as every single one of the demon brothers refuses to leave your room. Lucifer might roll his eyes, but he still settles on your couch, right next to Satan.

And for the first time in weeks, you're able to close your eyes and rest, feeling safe and at home.

ao3 ― writing tag

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xvxnux · 2 years

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` ♡ ~ what will your fs admire about you ~ `

` pic one ,

i see your fs will admire your duality, sensuality and even your intuition, the way you deal with spiritual issues. you may be a free spirited and very playful person, maybe you have an E in your mbti. It shows me that you are in control of yourself, you know when to be playful and when to be serious and that will be something your fs will really like about you. he will like your flexibility, will feel that everything is new as if you bring good things and new sensations and good feelings. here shows me a somewhat delicate family issue, maybe you have witnessed a delicate moment in relation to a family member (maybe friends too) and shows me that you dealt with it very well and moved on and your fs will admire you a lot for that . he sees in you a very great power of overcoming and regeneration, your fs may wonder how you manage to stay that way even after going through some bad things. you have the power to give a good meaning to things, pile 1. everything seems to go well when it comes to you, can be a person who helps others by showing a solution to their problems. can give direction when they need it. your fs may also be attracted to your breasts, lips, hair and thighs.

` pic two ,

for you pile 2 has a very strong and beautiful energy, of love… it shows me that in addition to some things that your fs will like about you, i’m getting an intuition about the way you can get to know, or even how you will be in the moment. your fs will be in love with everything about you, definitely. i see that he will like your emotional side, he will see you as an extremely intelligent person. you can catch him admiring you from afar or admiring while you sleep. possibly you might go through a bad time, and it might involve some thoughtless actions on your part. you can meet your fs in a moment of war with someone and even in a moment when are getting into trouble. be careful not to lose your essence, always remember to upgrade your serotonin because you tend to become a little bitter when you don’t see meaning in life. once you meet your fs you won’t remember past, bad choices and anything like that. you will be very happy pile 2, there is a lot of love in there. your intelligence will delight your fs a lot and he will always encourage you to be more and more! your fs may be attracted to your appearance in general but especially in the impression you give to people, you can seem like a serious person and he likes that.

` pic three ,

here i see that possibly you will have a lot of things under your responsibility when you meet your fs and this can even fit in legal cases. i see that he will admire the way you think and conduct things a lot, your are can be very similar with this person and with that he will admire you for thinking like him, acting like he would. but other than that even though he’s worried about you being responsible for something, he admires the way you handle it. he can read you well and knows that it’s something that overwhelms you, something that makes you get into a lot of arguments. he likes to see that despite all this you continue in search of your happiness and goal, i see that your fs will be able to do anything for you to continue like this and i see that he would not hesitate to take all that weight and overload . your fs may also be attracted to your face (may want to touch you often, pet you and give you kisses) and the way you dress.

#pick a pile #pick a card #tarotblr #intuitive tarot reading #tarotcommunity #daily tarot #future spouse reading

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popjunkie42 · 1 month

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Chains - Chapter Two

Read on AO3

Summary:

Lucien steals Feyre away from the safety of the Night Court as she and Rhys train in the Illyrian Steppes. Winnowing her to the Spring Court and Tamlin, Feyre must contend with the consequences of leaving while held against her will.

An ACOMAF Chapter 47 divergence.

Chapter Two: Feyre and Tamlin face each other once again. An unwelcome visitor arrives.

TW: Some references back to UTM and some abusive anger side of Tamlin.

All the love to @witch-and-her-witcher and @foundress0fnothing for the beta reads and excellent thoughts - especially with this chapter which needed some work after that first draft...

Thank you for all the love you guys! Yes I am chasing that serotonin boost. I hope I have a good story waiting for you all, this chapter definitely deals in the drama. Enjoy!

Chapter two under the cut or Read on AO3.

The grand dining room opened before me as two sentires led me in by the arms. Grand and terrifying. Ornate but sickeningly familiar. Brimming with memories, of a life, a person I was not so very long ago.

The sentries turned and left quickly, as if afraid of me. Or afraid to face someone else.

An unsettled feeling sunk heavily into my bones. As if my body was too heavy, my mind too light. The adrenaline had left me and I felt so, so quiet inside.

I was sitting at the table as if we were about to have a pleasant lunch. Sunlight filtered in gently through the large windows, catching floating dust and the errant sparkle of faelight in their beams.

Had I ever even really left? Had it all been a dream? Dread gripped my stomach in a too-familiar fist at the sights, the smells of this place.

Tamlin stalked into the room, heavy boots clipping loud on the marble as he passed behind me. My muscles stiffened. Reflectively, I flexed those internal muscles to check my mental shield, only to find again the silent void of my magic. The heavy weight of history between us as he slowly lowered himself on the carved wooden chair at the head of the table, his eyes never leaving me.

It was smart of him, at least, to be cautious. Had my powers been with me I would have grown claws and gone for his heart.

But here we were, me a prisoner in a dining room, him the male that had crossed all the lines to take me back.

Protective. Territorial. Controlling.

He watched me with wariness in his eyes, but it was impossible to mask the power and command of him. It prickled on my skin, tingled down my spine.

The last time I was here we had fought. He had walked away, angry, as I begged and pleaded with him.

The night before that, I had been in his arms, his hands and lips all over me. But my body had been this numb, disjointed thing - my mind even worse, but I had escaped, had been pulled out from under water to take a sip of cold clean air of Velaris, and now, and now –

My mouth opened to take in a breath, shallow and choked. Tamlin’s hand twitched on the table, still quiet, still observing.

What could I say to him? How could I fight against that desperate sickness – that fear, that angry panic – I could see poisoning him from within?

I had to tell him. I had to convince him he was wrong. That we didn’t work together anymore. That his enemy had become my friend.

That the future I saw, now, was me with my powers. Not buried under dresses or hidden in manors to plan parties and bury my head from the world - but in Prythian, working towards something.

Words wouldn’t form in my mind. Clenching my fists, I worked to slow my breathing, to quell the panicked thunder of my heart. I felt the distance between who I was here, before, and who I had become these past months when given room to grow, to fight, to shine. Another inner flex, a call to that ancient and familiar well of power, shining a light in the dark looking for a reflection.

“Feyre,” Tamlin finally spoke, gently, like I was a child. “I know this is difficult. I know you’re confused. But I’m not your enemy. Rhysand is in your mind, he’s poisoned you. But we’re going to help you.”

“You poisoned me,” I said, barely a whisper escaping my raw throat. “What did Lucien do to me?”

A deep sigh, as if he’d have to start at the beginning, explain the whole world to me.

“It's faebane, to smother magic. I didn’t want to resort to this, Feyre. But it will keep your mind closed. And protect us here in Spring. I know you don’t really want to hurt us, but we have to be careful.”

Perhaps Tamlin could guess, but he didn’t really know. What he had let into his manor. This faebane that poisoned my lungs would have to work its way out sometime. And when it did, I would dig down deep, until I pulled the foundation of this place out from the ground…

“What do you remember, Feyre?”

I laughed, my voice husky and hoarse. In his eyes I was helpless, mind broken into pieces. “Believe what you want, Tamlin, but my mind is my own. I remember everything. I remember what happened the last time I was here.”

For the first time in what felt like hours, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. One, two. Opened them again.

We were alone in the dining room, sitting together at the heavy table, empty of everything. Sunlight streamed through the windows, catching the glint in the High Lord’s eyes, a soft breeze rustling the curtains. Birds sang outside and somewhere on the grounds I heard the gardeners singing, the occasional clank of their shovels in the dirt.

Quiet. Peaceful. Slow. Like getting caught in dripping molasses. I had almost forgotten the sounds of this place, the warm kiss of a spring breeze on my skin. So different from the loud, electric jolt of Velaris, the thrum of life that had been seeping into my veins these past weeks. Bringing me back to life.

I forgot how much this manor felt like a marble tomb. The smell of roses was sickly sweet in my nostrils, like rot.

Here, it would be easy to forget who I was. To be so consumed with Tamlin, the presence he took up, the feelings of duty and lack within me. I saw now how there had only ever been room for small bits of me in this place - the Feyre who secluded herself away and painted, the one who always observed, who shut her mouth to survive. There wasn’t room in this manor, the whole Court, for the parts of me that hurt and cried and screamed, the vicious mouth, or the daughter who took the weight of her family on her shoulders.

Breathing deeply again, I willed my hands to be still. I willed my heart to slow, to calm the jittery crawl of my skin, to quell the nausea rolling in my stomach.

I had to remember who I was.

“Tamlin,” I said quietly, “I do not wish to be here. You have to let me go. I have never sworn myself to you, and I am not bidden to the Spring Court.”

I didn’t know what I expected from him, but the coldness in those green eyes surprised me. Any of that tenderness, fear or longing at seeing me again after all these weeks was now buried deep inside him, if he truly felt such things at all.

“Feyre.” I bristled at his tone, at the voice of the High Lord, unquestioned. Full of unrelenting command.

“Since they took you,” he continued, “I have done nothing but search for you. You do not know the things I have done, the pieces of my Court I’ve cut away. I have been relentless in doing nothing but pursuing you, and I would never abandon you.”

My teeth ground together. “I wrote to you, Tamlin. I told you I left. That I was safe.”

“Safe and cared for,” he growled, his command slipping back into the beast. “I knew he wrote that letter for you. How could that monster ever treat you with care? How could you be safe in that horrible place?” Emerald eyes were hard on me now, his pupils dark, searching and full of question. “Where has he kept you? In the Hewn City? Were you a prisoner there? My spies…” he quieted at that, still reluctant to tell me anything. To share anything of importance.

“What did your spies tell you?” I asked. Wondering who they were, if I would recognize them in this place.

His sharp jaw, covered in uncharacteristic stubble, set and he looked away from me. “They said you were rarely there. But when you were…it was, it was like it was Under the Mountain.”

My cheeks heated as my heart stumbled a beat. I would have to deal with the knowledge of Tamlin’s spies watching my moves later. Could hold onto it for Azriel later - a feeling of hope so big it was painful as I thought about my friend.

Would it be better, I wondered? Better for Tamlin to think the worst? I had secrets entrusted to me now - and a mission, to look after my sisters, to treat with the Queens, to protect Prythian from Hybern. Perhaps I would have to spin a story for him to believe, or push him so far to the edge he would be done with me completely.

Azriel certainly wouldn’t let a little kidnapping get in the way of his missions. I had to plan like him, crafting games in the bright lights of the courts and in the dark shadows hiding behind him. I had to think like Mor, a Queen ruling two cities, proud and tall.

What would Rhys have me do, while I waited? Because I was - listening at every moment for the snap of his wings, or the echo of his footsteps on the marble.

Where are you where are you where are you

I took more deep breaths, imagining Amren in the chair next to me. Calm and unafraid. Show him your teeth, girl, she would say.

“I have not been a prisoner,” I said, my voice calmer than I felt. “Everything I have done has been my choice.”

Even if he would have understood, I wouldn’t explain to him - how I was learning to play different roles to achieve my goals, how I had come to trust Rhys, how I never would have been in danger with him by my side in the Hewn City.

Tamiln had never understood what it was like for me, what had really happened Under the Mountain. What I had needed to make it through. What Rhysand had done to get me to the end. And now, I was the one with secrets to keep.

His eyes were back on me, piercing and intense, the dark circles under his eyes stark.

“What have you been doing, all this time in the Night Court? Where has he kept you?” He reached out a hand, then thought better of it, flattening it on the table between us. “What has he done to you, Feyre?”

I wondered if he saw me at all. The new muscles in my body, the color in my skin, the fullness of my face. “Rhysand,” I said, a growl escaping Tamlin’s lips as I said his name, “hasn’t done anything to me. He made me an offer to join his Court, and I accepted.”

“A member of his Court?” The hint of a sneer was creeping onto his face, tempting my temper. “And what services do you provide him?”

I could feel myself getting sharp, and my skin heating from his disdain.

After all the time I had spent agonizing over him, the guilt and mourning living deeply in my chest – for him to accuse me, to think the worst of me? After I had escaped, been rescued, leaving a melted ring on the foyer floor?

Maybe I still wasn’t the well-trained Emissary I was supposed to be. I did always have a hard time watching my tongue.

“Is that what it would take?” I asked him, leaning an arm onto the table. “for you to let me go, to leave me for good? If I told you I fucked him?”

Tamlin’s body was a blur even to my fae eyes. He bolted from his chair and slid to his knees in front of me, caging me into my chair, his razor sharp talons digging deep into the arms of wood. We skidded back a few inches from the table, and I grasped at the sides on instinct, my body recoiling and locking up from his attack.

Cold, shivering terror took hold of me, anger and regret pushed somewhere far away. There would be no shield of wind this time. As he bared his fangs inches from my face, his hot breath on my cheek, I doubted even Lucien and the sentries would be enough to contain him.

“Did you?” he growled, spittle flying from his mouth in a rage.

I grasped at breaths - fear, anger, terror, disgust swirling in. But my fear won out in the face of his barely contained rage.

“No,” I breathed.

I watched as his anger leached out from him, his body reeling back from mine in a slow smooth movement. He retreated back to his chair, dropping his head into his hands.

“You’re back now, Feyre,” he said, his voice low and tired. “You’re home and we’re going to get you help. Nothing has been easy, but I will keep fighting for you.”

I hated that even in my fear and anger, my heart cracked at that.

I had always wanted him to fight for me. Just not in the way that he chose. And I had also wanted desperately for him to forget the fighting, and to just be with me. To help find a way for us to both crack the shells we put around ourselves. To heal together. To know him, and the kind of life we could have together, and to dream of it side by side instead of one in front of the other, always out of reach.

“There’s nothing I can say,” I whispered, more to myself than to him. “There's nothing I can say that will convince you, is there? That I left. That I left you. That I’m not under his thrall?”

Tamlin grumbled softly, the talons slowly retracting, as if he thought better of it. “It’s not about being weak, Feyre. He’s so powerful. So few can stand against him. It’s not your fault he targeted you.”

“Rhysand…he’s not my enemy,” I said, knowing the words were useless. “I’m not in danger in the Night Court. I’m…” the word clanged through me like a bell. “I’m happy. I choose to be there, and I choose to go back, Tamlin.”

All anyone had to look at was my body to know the truth of it. With all of Tamlin’s attention on me, I wondered how he couldn’t see it. I was stronger than I had ever been. My body was a honed sword, and my powers were mine to command. If the High Lord of the Night Court was manipulating me as a weapon, he had freely given me the key to command my poweres as I chose.

He scoffed. “He kidnaps you to his Court for two months and suddenly he’s the hero of your story. How convenient.”

“He’s helped me, Tamlin. Under the Mountain, and after.” My anger rose. “I might not have even made it out of there, if it wasn’t for him. What would you have done, if I had gone insane alone in that cell? If they opened up the door one day and found me –”

“How could you ask me that? When I’ve done everything to protect you, to get you back? We were all subject to her wrath Feyre - and Rhysand’s as well. Did you not witness enough of his crimes? Did he erase that from your mind as well?”

Something was boiling in my blood – “You don’t know anything –”

“Feyre, he was her whore,” I snarled but he only shook his head, obnoxious pity growing in his eyes, “for forty-nine years, and turned on her only when the tide had finally changed, when you had done all the work of freeing us. He’s no different from her. They are the same type of creature preying on Prythian. You can see that, can’t you? They both kept us prisoners, toyed with us in their sick game. All this pain, all these schemes, they’re amusing to him. He’s bored or vindictive and he gets excitement from torturing others. All he wants is to use you, to get at me. He doesn’t care about you, Feyre. He’s not capable. I should know.” A darkness settled in his eyes.

The rise of the morbid history between them - centuries before my time, two young princes finding each other in a cruel world. I tried to picture how the wild and unrestrained Prince of Spring would befriend the elegant and deadly shadow that was Rhysand. Thought of what they may have had in common, then, the hope for Prythian I knew ran in the hearts of both of them. The cruel fathers, the frightening power. I wondered if Tamlin had ever known that other side of Rhysand, had ever seen through the mask to the dreamer I now knew lived beneath.

Because Tamlin’s words had cut through me - not because they were true, but because I knew in my heart how fully and completely they were wrong.

It was possible, maybe even quite likely, that I was a fool. That I was a weak-minded newborn fae fully under the thrall of a powerful daemati. I was a child playing games with immortal beings whose lives and political machinations spanned generations of my people.

But Rhysand wasn’t using me for revenge against Tamlin. As tempting as it was here, alone and steeped in fear, to doubt him, I knew – I knew he cared for me. He showed me in a hundred looks and smiles. Even in the arguments, in how he pushed me, wouldn’t let me fall behind or fall apart. Not even Tamlin and Lucien had given me so much time and training, had been so steadfastly by my side, had invested so much care in me.

The room faded away. I was vaguely aware of Tamlin watching me as my mind ran from me.

Every moment I had been here in the Spring Court, I had been waiting for him. Even if the bargain between us was gone, I still had cast my thoughts out to him. For Rhys, to come and take me home. My friend through many dangers. Who had saved me, fought for me. And I believed was fighting for me still.

A freefall in my mind - building our story, now that I was back in this place where it had all started. Reframing every word spoken between us and those that weren’t. There had been anger and games and mistrust between us. But all I could think of now were the nights spent on plush rugs in front of the fire in the Townhouse, lost in lessons and training and his sultry, amused voice.

At his face at Starfall, the heat of his body pressed against mine as we danced, the violet constellations that looked at me with such intensity I had to look away, burying my face against his chest.

At how I had waited for him in my bedroom after, wishing the fingers undoing the buttons on my dress were his.

Of the broken male I had witnessed, defeated on the bed, wings drooping - so crushed under the weight of his own memories my heart broke to see it.

That fractured, cunning, vicious, and sacrificing male.

Who I loved.

Maybe it showed on my face. A low growl was building in Tamlin’s chest and echoing through the room. I breathed through my revelation - the feeling of longing so strong in my chest it hurt.

Come find me.

My fingers worked on the wood of the chair. I had to stop, to think, to find a way out of this place.

Could Tamlin trap him here? Rhysand was so powerful - and had spoken before about the clumsiness of Tamlin’s wards, breaking through them easily when he came to call in the bargain. Was he counting on the threat of war? Or perhaps that Rhysand wouldn’t come for me at all?

What was he planning?

“Feyre!” A sharp, theatrical gasp came from the door. I kept my eyes on Tamlin as he looked to the doorway behind me. I was frozen - half out of fear of him, half from the chill of anger that went down my spine at the familiar voice.

Soft footsteps echoed on the marble. Slowly, Ianthe stepped forward into my line of vision, her blue eyes shining bright with tears, her slender hand covering her mouth.

A dramatic performance.

The two of them before me were enough to rekindle my rage, to awaken me again from my fear and memories. I could see it in my mind - Ianthe’s hand moving towards Rhys’s body, the sick feeling of violation. And Tamlin…Rhys’s face on the steppes…two faces, twisted in pain, floating down a river in baskets.

But all this anger and fear was getting me nowhere.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” I said, my eyes finally moving to Ianthe’s face. Trying to smooth some sadness into my voice.

“Bless the Mother who brought you here, back where you belong.” She moved a hand to rest on me, but thought better of it, seeing something in my face. “Back where we can watch over you. We won’t let this happen again, Feyre.”

I willed myself to breathe again. Just one breath. Then another. Deep into my lungs.

My power was still an empty well within me. A friend that I missed. Another part of me taken by this place.

Another breath and I forced my muscles to relax. Willed the fear and pain to leave me. And I called to that power, skittish, buried so deep I couldn’t sense where it might hide…but there nonetheless. I gently whispered to it, willing it to just step forward. It had to be there, it had no escape from me, it was a part of me like my blood, like my tendons and bones.

Cursebreaker. Spellbreaker. A bright shining light slicing through wards and unbinding chains. My eyes closed as the dining room fell away and I fell deep within myself.

A flash inside - that warm, piercing light singing a single note in my chest –

But then there was only pain, bone-deep, hot and cold at once around my wrists as bands of blue stone were snapped around them, bound together by a chain.

I had hardly gasped, grasped what was happening, when my ankles were chained as well.

Chills broke over me, the icy burning on my skin sharp and fierce, making my hands shake. It rocked over my skin in waves - freezing and then a roaring flame, my body feeling sick and weak.

“Ianthe…” Tamlin said, a gentle warning.

“Her powers were coming back. Couldn’t you feel it? And who knows what he’s trained her to do, implanted in her mind. He could have her waiting to kill you at the first chance, and she wouldn’t even remember the order.”

Tamlin’s eyes were wide.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre,” she said with a hitch in her voice, just appropriate enough to seem genuinely chagrined. “But this is for everyone’s good. We have to protect you, and everyone under this roof. The High Lord serves all his subjects.”

Nausea threatened to overwhelm me as my body fought to adjust to the pain. I was trapped again, in the foyer, in the dungeon cell, the deep well of despair and nothingness threatening to come over me again…

I fought for breath, for my thoughts. “Tamlin. You think that you want me. But you must not know me at all. To think that I would ever forget this. To think that you could steal me and chain me like this and ever win my heart again.”

Finally, a creep of doubt seemed to ease into his eyes. I begged my hands to be still, my voice to be clear. Gripped at the anger burning like hot embers inside my chest and let it burn.

“And even after all these centuries, you truly don’t know Rhysand either, if you think he isn’t going to rip this Court to pieces for what you’ve done.”

#acotar #feysand #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #feysand fanfic #canon divergence #bringing you the drama here #when your ex kidnaps you and just wants to talk

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zoeykallus · 1 year

Note

Hi there! I love your headcanons and I was wondering if I could make a personal request. Let me know if this is a no-go.

I have PMDD, premenstrual dysphoric disorder, basically PMS [premenstrual syndrome] but 20x worse. It usually resolves upon the onset of the crimson wave. But not all the time.

I have been struggling really badly with the deep depression, insomnia, and self-image issues brought on by my disorder.

Do you think we can see how the Batch handles their fem reader S/O struggling with this disorder specifically? And maybe, if it's not too much, a part 2 with some of our favorite regs?

Thank you so much!

Aloha my dear!

Oh, this is a heavy hitter, I know where you are coming from. So many people out there have no idea how freaking much this can affect someone's life. PMS is already a hard thing to deal with, but PMDD brings it to yet another really shitty level. Don't worry, I got you 😊

The Bad Batch x Afab!Reader HCs - Struggling With PMDD

Warnings: Mention of PMDD (premenstrual dysphoric disorder) and its symptoms /Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

_______

AC: I'm using Techs Part first to introduce PMDD and its symptoms to those who might not know what it is. So don't be surprised about Tech's Part being longer than the others, there is a lot of information in there. So please read Tech's part, to understand what this is all about 😊

_______

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

_______

Tech

The first experiences he has with you in this context are frightening for him. Apart from the fact that you suddenly seem like a completely different person to him, he is really worried about you. But Tech wouldn't be Tech if he didn't get to the bottom of this.

It takes him a little while to find the right material.

Premenstrual dysphoric disorder (PMDD) is a much more severe form of premenstrual syndrome (PMS). It may affect women of childbearing age. It’s a severe and chronic medical condition that needs attention and treatment. Lifestyle changes and sometimes medicines can help manage symptoms.

The exact cause of PMDD is not known. It may be an abnormal reaction to normal hormone changes that happen with each menstrual cycle. The hormone changes can cause a serotonin deficiency. Serotonin is a substance found naturally in the brain and intestines that narrows blood vessels and can affect mood and cause physical symptoms.

What are the risk factors for PMDD?

While any woman can develop PMDD, the following may be at increased risk:

Women with a family history of PMS or PMDD

Women with a personal or family history of depression, postpartum depression, or other mood disorders

Other possible risk factors include lower education and cigarette smoking

Talk with your healthcare provider for more information.

"Healthcare provider?" he mumbles softly between reading, "As if any of us have such a thing"

Symptoms of PMDD appear during the week before menstruation and end within a few days after your period starts. These symptoms disrupt daily living tasks. Symptoms of PMDD are so severe that women have trouble functioning at home, at work, and in relationships during this time. This is markedly different than other times during the month.

There is a chart with symptoms and he worriedly starts to read it.

The following are the most common symptoms of PMDD:

Psychological symptoms

Irritability

Nervousness

Lack of control

Agitation

Anger

Insomnia

Difficulty in concentrating

Depression

Severe fatigue

Anxiety

Confusion

Forgetfulness

Poor self-image

Paranoia

Emotional sensitivity

Crying spells

Moodiness

Trouble sleeping

Fluid retention

Swelling of the ankles, hands, and feet

Periodic weight gain

Diminished urine output

Breast fullness and pain

Respiratory problems

Allergies

Infections

Eye complaints

Vision changes

Eye infection

Gastrointestinal symptoms

Abdominal cramps

Bloating

Constipation

Nausea

Vomiting

Pelvic heaviness or pressure

Backache

Skin problems

Acne

Skin inflammation with itching

Aggravation of other skin disorders, including cold sores

Neurologic and vascular symptoms

Headache

Dizziness

Fainting

Numbness, prickling, tingling, or heightened sensitivity of arms and/or legs

Easy bruising

Heart palpitations

Muscle spasms

Other

Decreased coordination

Painful menstruation

Diminished sex drive

Appetite changes

Food cravings

Hot flashes

His brows are drawn together critically. With a heavy sigh, he says quietly to himself, "Oh boy…"

Tech makes it his business to see that you are examined by a proper doctor, given appropriate medication, and change your diet. He sometimes seems stern and matter-of-fact, but only when he notices you neglecting yourself. Tech also pampers you to counteract the psychological symptoms, with picnics, massages and the like.

Don't worry too much, Tech's got your back. He won't give up on you.

Hunter

His senses already tell him what connections exist with your condition. But of course he is not a doctor and therefore informs himself accordingly without your knowledge, Tech helps him. What he learns frightens him, Hunter is really worried, and he makes it his mission to make this time, these symptoms, easier for you. Apart from making sure you always have the medication you need at hand, he is also much more attentive and caring than usual during this time.

You can let yourself go and not have to worry about anything, Hunter takes everything in hand and has it under control. He is especially gentle and forgiving with you during this time. You mean a lot to him, and he does his absolute best to help you.

He doesn't argue with you when you get your moods, if you want to be alone he respects that, but keeps an eye on you from a safe distance, just in case.

Echo

This sweet man really throws himself into the task of helping you. Whether it's getting your medications, preparing food, massages, and running relaxing baths, Echo has it all covered.

With him by your side, you will want for nothing during this difficult time. He is also not easily scared away, he is as patient as he is stubborn. You don't have to go to the doctor alone, Echo will accompany you.

He organizes your medication, your diet and everything else you need, if you want. If you don't, you must tell him clearly, because Echo will automatically see his task in taking care of everything.

Wrecker

He is warm, and lively. Contrary to the expectations of most, he is also very sensitive and attentive. Of course, he does not miss the fact that something is wrong with you. Of course, he is worried and wants to help.

Talk to him honestly, try not to withdraw, and you will have a steadfast supporter and caretaker in Wrecker. He likes to spoil you, make sure you are taken care of and have your medication.

Wrecker is happy to adapt to you, you just need to communicate with him and let him know what you need. Taking care of you is very easy for him, he likes to do that. Knowing that he can make things easier for you is also good for him in this situation. So confide in him, there is absolutely no reason to pretend in front of him.

Crosshair

He is a bit more complicated at first. Of course, you are incredibly important to him, and he also has a certain empathy, but he often stands in his own way when it comes to emotional, interpersonal things.

At first, he can't really deal with it at all and is looking for some distance at this time. But in a small conversation between brothers, in which Hunter makes it clear to him that his behavior sooner or later can seriously damage your relationship, Crosshair first informs himself more precisely about the existing problem. Finally, he approaches you with the knowledge he has gathered and tries to discuss with you what you can do together as a couple, what he can do as your partner to make the whole thing easier for you.

You talk about medications, doctor visits, relaxation techniques, and home remedies to combat some symptoms. It doesn't take long for the two of you to work out a certain routine that you can both manage and that he can use to help you get through this time okay.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

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gaybananabread · 10 months

Note

Congrats on the follower milestone! If you're still taking orders, may I please have switches Gwen and Hobie (Gwen as the original lee) with pears and/or oranges?? They've become somewhat of a comfort duo for me, hehe :)<

Fruit(s): Pears, Oranges

Love these two! Writing for them is always fun, though all the spider scrimblos have a vice grip on my brain. Hobie gives off such asshole switch vibes, I can’t even- Went a little overboard with this one, but I have no regrets. (UvU) Back on topic, thank you for ordering your fruits, and I hope you Enjoy!

Switches: Gwen, Hobie

Summary: Gwen is struggling with her self-image, the negative thoughts creeping in as she stresses out. Hobie has the perfect way to help, and while it cheers her up, things don’t exactly go how he expects them to.

Warnings: poor self-image/esteem topic! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!

Gwen stared up at the ceiling of Hobie’s inner houseboat, letting her thoughts drift. They weren’t going anywhere good.

She had failed so much as-of-late. Her dad discovering her secret identity, the anomalies getting out of control, the Spot’s wave of leftover destruction, everything with Miles… Even though none of those were truly her fault, it really felt that way; her mind took those feelings as grim, guilty facts. Growing tired of his bedroom ceiling, Gwen grabbed a pillow, burying her teary face in it. Maybe smothering herself in her sorrows would help…

Hobie slunk into the room, his cheeky smile falling the moment he saw Gwen’s sulking form. The punk sat on the edge of his bed, the old mattress sinking in with his weight. He poked the pillow, making Gwen huff. “Hey…what’s goin’ on, Gwendy?”

The girl groaned into the soft object, shrugging. “‘M fine…” The muffled lie was barely audible, but Hobie’s keen hearing caught it clear as day. So, so much was running through her mind, but she couldn’t burden her friend with those thoughts. Best to figure it out herself…probably.

Damn it, Gwen… A large, calloused hand rested on her stomach, one finger drawing small circles around the thin fabric of her t-shirt. “Not buyin’ that, sweetheart. You need some cheerin’ up?”

Small giggles slipped past her guarded lips, muffled by the pillow. As much as she wanted to deal with everything herself, some comfort would be nice. Especially the kind Hobie was suggesting… Gwen mumbled an “mm-hm” into the fabric, not pushing him away. That was all the lanky teen needed to get started.

Hobie lightly tickled her stomach, his fingers doing figure-eights against her shirt. The other teen’s feet started to drum on the bed, muffled giggles making their way to his ears. It was adorable, the way she let him cheer her up with the silly touch. It was clear the tickles were helping. “Aww, Gwenny, all ya had to do was ask.”

To anyone outside their inner circle, this might’ve seemed strange. She just let him tickle her like that? Yeah, she did; that girl was practically melting. In the midst of her bleak thoughts, a little fluff and silliness was like heaven. Tickling in general made her happy, but the gentle stuff from someone she cared about to cheer her up? Immediate serotonin release.

As much as he loved her muffled giggles, he was after a bigger reaction. The punk climbed further onto her bed, sitting on her thighs so she couldn’t kick him. Hobie grabbed the pillow, tugging it away from her face. The bright red cheeks and wobbly smile he was greeted with made him snicker. “Hey, girlie. No hidin’ those giggles; they’re too cute for jus’ the pillow ta hear.”

She whined through the adorable sound, half-heartedly batting at his hands. “H-Hohohobie! Quhihit teheasing!” To be honest, she loved the teases, but her cheeks were red enough without the cheeky words. “Sorry, but ya too cute to not tease. ‘M sure you’ll survive.” He slipped a finger under her shirt, scratching at her navel with a smug grin.

Gwen squealed, shooting upwards and shoving at his hand. “H-HOHOhohobiehe! You prihihick! Dohon’t do thahat!”

So, of course, he kept doing that.

Pushing her shoulder back down to the mattress, Hobie slid her shirt up, scribbling all around her poor belly button. Gwen practically screeched, her feet kicking out behind the anarchist as she frantically shoved at him. “G-KYAAAH! YOUHUHU DIHIHICK! NAHAHAHA!”

That got a snort out of the older spider, his cool rings sending goosebumps across her skin as he “tormented” her. “Heard of a giggle button, but I never knew ya could have a “lose your damn mind” button. I’ll be sure to remember that one.”

The rougher tickles, while unexpected, were still helping, They helped to drown out the rest of her sour thoughts, replacing the sticky guilt with bright, raucous laughter and giddy glee. Gwen was about at her limit though, his evil fingers pulling squeak after squeal from her wobbly lips. “H-HOBS! IHI CAHAHAN’T- QUIT!”

He huffed, not wanting to go too far. The punk switched from pokes to rubs, patting and massaging her buzzing tum to try and dull the ticklish aftershocks. The girl huffed and giggled, recovering from the brief, yet effective goofiness. “Th-thahanks Hobs. I needed thahat.”

The punk laid down beside her, grabbing the pillow from earlier and smacking her with it. “Any time, Gwendy. Just gotta ask.”

Gwen yelped when the fluffy thing smacked her face, her spider sense warning her just a second too late; her subconscious apparently didn’t deem pillows a threat. She was about to hit him back when she realized she had a great opportunity to be a shit. Even though she loved it, payback could be given…heheh.

Pouncing out of nowhere, she wrestled with her friend, eventually managing to pin him to the bed. While he was a bit stronger, she had caught him by surprise, throwing him off his game. Gwen playfully wiggled her fingers in front of him, smirking. “TIme for a taste of your own medicine, Hobie~”

Before he could protest, five nimble fingers dug into his belly while the other pinned his arms above his head. Hobie didn’t care to hold anything in, just letting the giggles flow as he squirmed. It was apparently the wrong day for him to wear a crop top. “B-buhut yohou liked ihihit!”

She snickered, letting her acrylic nails drag across his midsection. “Maybe. Doesn’t mean I can’t get you back.” Gwen gave his hips a squeeze, giggling as the punk snorted. “Besides, you like it just as much.”

Hobie took the extra effort to flip her off, making the other teen squawk. She was right, of course; he was barely fighting back, enjoying the turnabout. Scorned and feeling brave, Gwen leaned her head down, blowing a sudden raspberry on his navel. That did it.

“G-GWEHEHEN! WHAHA’ THE FAHAHACK?!” She snorted at his words, sitting back up with a smirk. “You flipped me off, you jerk! Totally deserved.” She went back to his hips, appreciating his low-waisted jeans as she traced little shapes onto his upper hips. “Loving your outfit, by the way. Very ler-friendly.”

He groaned, bucking his hips as more little snorts decorated his laugh. His hips always had him sounding like a piglet. “Sh- snrk shuhuhut uhup! Thaha’ wahahasn’t on puhuhurpose!”

She was about to tease him again, but a low whirr sounded in the room, a few knick-knacks slowly floating up in the room; one of their friends was visiting Hobie’s dimension.

“Damn it. You’re lucky, Hobs.” She pinched his side one last time before climbing off him, going to greet whoever just arrived. It was probably Pav, coming over for one of their unprompted game nights.

Hobie giggled off the rest of the adrenaline, rubbing his exposed belly and staring up at the ceiling. He had trained those shits too well…

Taking a deep breath, the punk hauled himself out of the bed, grabbing his guitar from the corner before leaving the bedroom. Hobie hadn’t planned on getting tickled, though he was glad he helped Gwen cheer up. Even if it was a bit unconventional. Then again, what was normal about any of them? He greeted Pav, a smile still on his face as he grabbed out Clue for their game night.

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einsatzzz · 5 months

Text

[OC] Ninomiya Kurumi - Character Profile

🎀The charming and outgoing fashionista who's obsessed with anything cute! Ninomiya Kurumi!🎀

You can go to this link from our Oniyanagi Wiki site for her full character page!

"You see, I’ve always been a huge fan of cute things!"

Kurumi is one of the two 10th generation bosses of the Oniyanagi yakuza family (alongside her twin, Kana). She is a very energetic and friendly teenager, as well as a skilled martial artist.

Age: 14 Birthday: October 18 Zodiac Sign: ♎︎Libra Height: 158cm Weight: 46kg Gender: ? County of origin: Japan MBTI: ESFP Favorite Fruit: Peach Favorite cake: Peach/Apple/Banana-flavored cakes, Strawberry shortcake, Cheesecake

✦•····································•✦•····································•✦

PERSONALITY: She has a bad case of cute aggression!

Kurumi has an energetic and outgoing nature that makes it easy for her to make friends and connections. A very prominent obsession that she has is with all things that are cute, broadly ranging from fashion to adorable trinkets. Yes, even cute people are included too.

Despite her carefree demeanor, Kurumi can be surprisingly mature and reflective, often acting as a mediator when there are serious conflicts in her Family and being observant of its overall condition. When someone outside the Family starts becoming too close, she seems to start distancing herself.

SPECIALTY: She has dangerous superhuman strength, please use caution when hugging!

Kurumi inherited an extraordinary muscle constitution that grants her immense strength, enough to effortlessly handle a greatsword that's almost her size. If she is not careful in controlling her strength, she might end up breaking some bones if she gets carried away while hugging a normal person. This inherent characteristic of hers plus her martial arts are a deadly combination.

DAILY LIFE: Despite certain difficulties, she wants to become someone who can live true to herself.

At her new school, there are always various troubles and problems brewing around (may or may not be partly caused by her or her besties), but she always tries her best to help out her friends with a smile! After everything is settled, a nice trip to the shopping district with Kyoko and Haru wipes any remaining exhaustion off. Maybe they could even visit a cafe right after!

RELATIONSHIPS: A new school comes with new friendships!

Reborn: A cute and strong baby! He can be scary sometimes, though.

Tsuna: A cute future mafia boss! My first friend in Namimori too! Don't worry, I'll help you with Kyoko-chan!

Kyoko: She's such a cute girl! I hope we can spend more time together.

Haru: Another cute girl! She even asked me to do a cosplay collaboration project together!

Lambo: Another cute baby! He's just like a little brother to me. I'll take care of you, Lambo-chan!

I-pin: Such a nice cute little baby! Even Yui is fond of her. I'll take care of you too, I-pin-chan!

Bianchi: She's cute, but more than that, she's very cool too! But...You got it wrong Nee-san, my cooking isn't supposed to be poison cooking ueee 🥲

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If you read up to this point, then thank you so much for taking the time to do so! For these character profiles, I'll try to follow the style of the Vongola 77 profiles so that I can have a format to follow and stop myself from going too overboard haha. All information above (and in the wiki right now) only captures her character around the beginning of Daily Life Arc.

Any questions about her or the story is very much appreciated! (Please, the amount of serotonin boost is insane when I get OC asks! Yuipachi-sensei will answer it for you too hehe - I'm IP with an ask rn too ^o^)

When I finish Kana's character sheet, thinking of doing a second batch of outfit sheets for the twins with their non-school uniform outfits. Maybe their "mission" outfit and one set of casual clothes for each of them.

For credits, all Oniyanagi OCs are by me and @amiahoshi! While for the intro audio, Kurumi is voiced by erushaVA and I also got the background music here from MusMus!

Note: I finally un-privated the Oniyanagi wiki. Whenever I'm inactive/on hiatus, this place is my hideout to recharge. Kind of like the "Do it for her" meme, except I'm staring at my OC's page and gallery. Anyway, you'll see me hanging around there when I'm not in socmed, unless IRL reaaalllly decides to suck A LOT lmaoo

#khr #katekyo hitman reborn #khr oc #khre #ninomiya kurumi #oc #original character #oniyanagi #einart #einhighlights #the full tl of the audio clip is on the wiki btw!#☢️fangirling tags ahead 🫡 stay safe 🫡#MY BBG!!!#she has a full color character sheet and a voice 🥹🥹💖#someday i'll learn how to animate too #local oc artist fights for her life to improve her art skills out of love and affection for her ocs #also ive always been eyeing eru with voicing knrm for so long so im happy i got to save up enough to comm her for this!#me personally i prob replayed this audio at least 63 times #trying to engrave krm's voice onto the frontal lobe of my brain #outfit designs after those two extra outfits highly likely won't be colored unless it's like the main outfit for a major arc but who knows #bc my brain likes being extra with the ocs a lot of the time #i do have 1 problem and that is.....idk how i'll post this on twt and ig in a format i'll like....lmao

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rottenpumpkin13 · 6 months

Note

Thinking about Sephiroth being a pasta lover...

Like obviously part of it is probably that he had his diet highly controlled for years and a lot of people think carbs are the vehicle for Satan or whatever so ofc it was restricted for him and gets the forbidden fruit reflex.

And obviously hes super active and shredded and Bodies Like Having Some Body Fat so hes going to be craving carbs and probably fats because they help you make that body fat back that you are Supposed to Have.

But then there is also the fact that when most people are depressed they crave carbs- because it helps serotonin production. :)

There's a bit of dialogue between Cloud and Tifa in Rebirth (avert your eyes if this is a spoiler) where Tifa asks him what kind of meals they feed SOLDIERs. Cloud replies "They put a lot of thought into making them healthy, not much into making them tasty."

From this we can guess that all of their diets were controlled to an extent, but Sephiroth was fed these apparently unappetizing meals his whole life and that's all he knew. He did have carbs and healthy fat though, it's doubtful Hojo would remove carbs and natural sugar from his diet altogether as those are crucial.

But based on your take I'm imagining Sephiroth finally having access to pasta, sweets and junk as an adult and going ham on his cravings because Hojo isn't there to tell him no. Like buying a box of chocolates he plans on eating in moderation over the next week. He keeps fighting with himself and going back to the box every 3 minutes and it's gone within the hour lmao. Honoring cravings must've been a whole new experience for him.

I'm pretty sure the brain tells you when you're low on dopamine and serotonin and sends the signal to your body that makes you crave sugar and carbs. Imagine the reason Sephiroth lost weight during Crisis Core was because he was eating, but it was all junk.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #discussion

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forbidden-salt · 10 days

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Breaking the Silence; My Mental Health Story for Worldwide Suicide Prevention Day

By ForbiddenSalt

9/10/2024

Trigger Warning: This blog post discusses suicidal ideation, depression, and mental health struggles. If you are in a vulnerable state, please read with caution, and know that support is available through resources like 988, friends, and loved ones.

Resources and helpful tools for self and loved ones provided below the fold.

My Story:

Suicide Awareness Day holds a deeply personal meaning for me. For years, I struggled silently with suicidal thoughts, depression, and anxiety, unsure of how to ask for help or whether I deserved it. Sharing my story now is not just about raising awareness, but about offering hope to anyone who feels the same weight I once carried.

At the age of 13, I began to experience something many people are hesitant to talk about—suicidal ideation. But it wasn’t until I was in college that I truly realized how dangerous those thoughts had become.

I remember one day when I was walking across campus from class to my dorm, lost in thought, and accidentally stepped off the curb without looking. A car was coming toward me. Instinctively, I jumped back, avoiding an accident. But what happened next startled me more than the near-miss. As I stood on the sidewalk, tears welled up, not because I was relieved, not because I was scared—I was upset that my instincts had saved me. I realized I wasn’t crying because I had narrowly avoided getting hit by a car; I was crying because, in that moment, I wanted to be hit. It would have been an "accident"—a way out without me having to act intentionally.

It dawned on me that this was something much more serious than I had admitted to myself.

This wasn’t the first time I had experienced suicidal thoughts, but it was one of the most shocking moments. I knew I needed help. I sought out a counselor at the campus health center and, for a time, tried therapy. When I went home for a break, I spoke to my doctor, and she prescribed me an SSRI. I confided in my family and was met with mixed reactions—some were supportive, while others expressed concerns about the medication, urging me to stop taking it as quickly as possible. This set up an internal battle for me; I began starting and stopping my medication over the next few months, caught between fear and shame; and eventually quit all together.

Suicidal ideation lingered in the back of my mind for years. I wished for a pause button, a way to make the world stop so I could catch my breath and somehow not fall behind. I dreamed of getting hurt or sick enough to be hospitalized, just so I could take a break from life’s demands. But I never let myself act on those thoughts.

It wasn’t until my mid-20s that things got so bad I returned to therapy. This time, it was different. My new therapist helped me understand that I wasn’t “crazy”—I was carrying the weight of childhood trauma and years of struggling to survive. She diagnosed me with complex PTSD, and for the first time, I felt understood. Her support gave me the strength to make significant changes in my life, including moving to a new state.

There, I found another therapist who continued to guide me through the ups and downs. I started back on an SSRI and have stayed on it ever since. Through this process, I realized that what I had been dealing with wasn’t just emotional—it was also biological. My body wasn’t producing enough serotonin, and my chronic illnesses, were compounding these mental health struggles by denying my body the tools to make its own serotonin and through the weight of the symptoms. Especially for a while before there was any answer or treatment plan in sight.

I went through EMDR therapy, talk therapy, and put in the hard work to heal. I focused on my physical and mental health, fighting for answers and for my life. Slowly, I began to reclaim control. I started to recognize the warning signs of passive suicidal ideation and created an action plan for when those thoughts creep in. I don’t go to therapy as often now, but I still have touch-base appointments in case something changes.

Through this journey, I’ve learned so much about myself and the nature of mental illness. Depression, anxiety, and PTSD were not signs that I was lazy or difficult, though I was often labeled as such. They were symptoms of a much deeper issue. I wish people could see that depression isn’t a mindset or mood and suicidal thoughts are not selfish—they are the final, fatal symptom of a disease.

It took a long time for me to accept that what I went through wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t to blame for the trauma I endured or the way my brain and body responded to it. And if you’re reading this and find yourself in a dark place, I want you to know you are not alone. I know what it’s like to stand in the darkness for so long that it starts to feel like home. But I also know that it is possible to fight back, to heal, and to find hope again.

If you can’t fight for yourself right now, I encourage you to reach out to someone—anyone—who can sit with you in your pain. Let them help you find a therapist, a doctor, or simply help with daily tasks. It might not be the person you expect. For me, one if my company leaders had noticed my depression and helped me find a therapist. I had a best friend who sat with me over the phone while I sobbed broken hearted, encouraging me to seek help if I needed it. That going to the hospital if I needed it wasn’t shameful or weak but brave and admirable. It was my grandmother, who spoke to me daily, reminding me of my faith and offering love when I couldn’t love myself and felt those I loved most didn’t love me.

Faith also played a huge role in my healing. I’ve had my share of questions and anger, but my belief that God could handle my questions and my rage helped me through some of the darkest times. I questioned why my life was going the way it was, why I was feeling the way I did, if He knows everything before it happens, if he’s all powerful why didn’t he step in to change the course of my life away from this. My questions turned to anger and I had to keep reminding myself that God had shoulders big enough for my anger, my tears, my pain. That I could toss all of it at him and he’d still see me still, love me. I never doubted his existence, and honestly to this day I still don’t have all the answers but I’m sure one day I’ll understand and I’ve realized I was still loved even when I couldn’t see it.

My family eventually came around too. Even my dad, who I had thought didn’t believe me, recently admitted how scared he had been for me after he had kept his fears hidden for years since it had gotten bad. We were able to talk and he listened, shared his point of view, and made the effort to understand. He allowed me to assure him I was safe now, I was doing better, and it’s changed our relationship for the better. While I had found my way to stability without knowing if my family believed or supported me, learning my family did care enough to worry, cared enough to learn, and loved me enough to listen even if what I said was hard to hear meant the world to me.

If you’re struggling, know that there is help out there. Call 988 for support, reach out to friends, hug your dog or cat, cling to your faith—whatever gets you through the next moment. Each day is a step, and that’s enough. It doesn’t have to be a leap—it just has to be forward.

Resources for support below:

Here are some coping strategies:

1. Box Breathing: This simple technique can help reduce anxiety. Breathe in for four counts, hold for four, exhale for four, and pause for four. Repeat until your heart rate slows and you feel more grounded. You can do this while on a video call too just let your eyes glide along the edges of the screen while you hold and breathe.

2. Straw Breathing: Another great calming tool—take a deep breath in, and then slowly exhale like you’re blowing through a straw. It mimics the relaxing response of the parasympathetic nervous system and helps you focus.

3. Journaling: I started journaling, reminding myself it didn’t have to be perfect. It was just for me. I stopped feeling guilty if I skipped days or weeks and let the words flow when I needed them. If you struggle with journaling, try creating an anonymous blog where you can rant and vent without worrying about dates or continuity. I have a separate Tumblr just for this—a void I can yell into when I need to.

4. Bilateral Stimulation: Butterfly taps—crossing your arms and tapping on opposite shoulders—helped calm me during moments of stress. This was especially useful during EMDR therapy, which became one of my strongest tools.

5. Creating a Routine: I used to go to the gym to cope before my chronic illness made it harder, so I shifted to art as a form of expression. Creating anything—whether it’s a routine or a creative outlet—can make a difference.

6. Boundaries and Emotions: Learning boundaries and reconnecting with my emotions was vital. One book that really changed my perspective was Rage Becomes Her by Soraya Chemaly, which helped me embrace my anger as a valid emotion. Learn how to advocate for yourself and establish boundaries. This takes time, but it’s one of the most empowering things you can do for your mental health.

7. Prioritize Yourself: Make time for what you need—therapy, the gym, a bath, or a doctor’s appointment. And allow yourself to rest. Your mind and body will force you to stop if you keep ignoring the warning signs.

8. Taking Shortcuts: Too tired to make a proper meal? That’s okay. Eat food however it comes—deconstructed meals are all the rage anyway. I’ve had moments where lunch was just handfuls of cheese and lunch meat. The goal is to nourish yourself, and sometimes that means being kind to yourself about how you do it.

10. Create Safety Nets: If you're heading somewhere that could be triggering, plan for it. What’s your exit strategy? Can you bring a comfort item, like a fidget toy, a blanket, or a stuffed animal? Having a plan can give you a sense of control.

11. Redirecting Negative Thoughts: When I get caught in negative thoughts, I ask myself if these thoughts are helping me process emotions or if they're just hurting me. If I’m not ready to process them, I work on redirecting my focus to something more helpful.

13. Emotional Support Animals: If you can, get an emotional support animal. My mini schnauzer has helped me through so much, even though she doesn’t know it.

How can I help a loved one:

1. Listen First: Before jumping to solutions, take time to listen. Validate the person's feelings, and let them process before suggesting how to fix things. Most of the time, they already know the solution; they just need space to work through it.

2. Stop Shaming Mental Health: Be mindful of how you talk about mental health. I’ve overheard loved ones shaming people for being "selfish" or "foolish" for being depressed, anxious, suicidal and even those that did commit suicide not knowing how often it was on my mind. Those words made it even harder to speak up and ask for help.

3. Fear and Guilt Are Not Helpful Tools: Fear and guilt are not effective motivators when it comes to mental health. I once told someone close to me that I didn’t believe people who commit suicide go to hell. Just as someone who passes from cancer doesn’t go to hell for how they died, I believe the same for depression—it’s an illness. They responded that they hoped fear of hell would keep me from acting on those thoughts. I explained that, by the time someone is ready to act, they likely don’t care anymore. The weight of the pain is overwhelming, and fear or guilt won’t pull them back.

4. Recognize the Signs: Suicidal ideation, passive suicidal ideation, and suicidal plans are all dangerous and need treatment and support. It may begin with passive thoughts like, “I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t wake up tomorrow,” but those can shift into active planning if left unchecked. Just because someone hasn’t acted on it doesn’t mean they don’t need help. Depression doesn't always look the same for everyone. It could be messy rooms, low energy, or a lack of interest in things that once brought joy. It could also look like reckless behavior, withdrawing, or joking about death. These subtle signs shouldn’t be brushed off—they’re as important as overt cries for help and worth a check as little as “hey you keep making these jokes, I just want to make sure you really are okay?” If someone is talking about feeling hopeless, giving away possessions, withdrawing from loved ones, or engaging in risky behavior, these are red flags.

5. Offer practical support: Whether it’s helping with daily tasks, providing a ride to a therapy appointment, or just sitting quietly with them, practical support can be a lifeline.

6: Encourage professional help: Gently suggest therapy, medical care, or other professional help if the person hasn’t already sought it. Be patient and compassionate, understanding that reaching out can be terrifying for them.

7. Be present: Sometimes the best thing you can do is just be there. Your physical and emotional presence can provide comfort, even when there are no words.

If you have a loved one who you worry is going through something, or has confided in you and you are worried for them. Don’t wait. Speak to them. Ask them how you can help, what’s going on, listen. If you’re afraid for them, even after they have gotten to the other side, don’t let your fears tear at you for months, tell them then listen and trust that when they say they are good, have come out the other side have an action plan for when they notice the signs - belive them. If you can’t let it go still, seek your own support. The fear of loosing someone you care about is worthy of attention. If you’re reading this because someone you love is struggling with suicidal thoughts, thank you for caring. Supporting someone with suicidal ideation can be incredibly difficult, but your presence matters more than you might realize.

If you or someone you love is struggling, find Resources for Support:

1. National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: Dial 988 for immediate help in the U.S. Available 24/7.

2. Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 to connect with a trained crisis counselor.

3. The Trevor Project: Focused on supporting LGBTQ+ youth, The Trevor Project offers crisis intervention and suicide prevention services. Text START to 678678 or visit their website.

4. NAMI (National Alliance on Mental Illness): NAMI provides free, confidential support for mental health concerns. Call the NAMI Helpline at 1-800-950-NAMI or text NAMI to 741741.

5. The Jed Foundation: Focused on mental health support for teens and young adults, the Jed Foundation works to protect emotional health and prevent suicide. Visit jedfoundation.org for more information.

6. The Veterans Crisis Line: Veterans and their loved ones can call 988 and press 1 or text 838255 for confidential support. Available 24/7.

Suggestions for Keeping Yourself Safe:

1. Create a safety plan: Write down a plan for when suicidal thoughts occur. This could include calling a trusted friend, therapist, family, distracting yourself with an activity you enjoy, or going to a safe place where you can feel grounded and making an appointment with your doctor.

2. Reach out to a support network: Whether it’s friends, family, or a therapist, let someone know how you’re feeling. It’s important not to isolate yourself when you’re struggling.

3. Remove means: If you’re feeling unsafe, remove items that could be harmful or ask someone you trust to hold onto them temporarily. There is no shame in this ever.

4. Practice grounding techniques: When suicidal thoughts take over, try grounding yourself with techniques like deep breathing, focusing on your senses, or engaging in mindfulness exercises. These can help bring you back to the present moment. Call on your faith if you need to to get by, play with your pet anything to help you get grounded and move through the feeling

5. Remember that feelings pass: In the heat of the moment, it can feel like the pain will last forever. But emotions are temporary, and feelings—even the darkest ones—eventually pass. That feelings are normal and natural and have no moral judgement, feel it, acknowledge it, and let it move through knowing another feeling will come your way take its place.

Recovery isn’t pretty, and life isn’t perfect; but you are worth fighting for.

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prismaticpichu · 5 months

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SephZack and 1, 10, 4? (I don't know if you ship them that way so feel free to keep it platonic)

*dropping hearts while i'm here don't mind me* -> 💖💚💛💜

Numero uno, thank you SO much for picking my favorite beans shshshsb <333 Numero dos, thank you SO much for considering my platonic taste! You rock, Pumpkin!! So much!! ❤️ (blasting all those hearts right back at ya!! ❤️💜♥️🧡🩵🧡🩵💛💙 💚 EVERYONE SHOW THAT LOVE TO PUMPKIN RN!!! Their blog is free serotonin <33 Funniest FF7 content on the internet!)

Which one is the better cook? ~ That honor goes to Zack!! While both SOLDIERs picked up most of their cooking skills from Angeal, Zack gets a tiny lil’ boost with the cooking experience he developed from his pre-SOLDIER days. Nothing makes the First happier than cooking cozy, classic Gongagan meals for his friend <33 And nothing makes Sephiroth happier than expanding his palette, eating some high-quality, nutrient-rich food, and getting a taste of the childhood that Zack shares with him every day. Thx to Zack, Sephiroth has never been more nourished <3 He has never felt more at peace. He has a healthy weight, a healthy complexion, and a healthy relationship with a friend who he trusts like no other.

What do they do on date night? ~ N/A ;3 Just kidding lol! It may not be a date night, but every Friday is Chocobo wings, pizza, and movie night at Zack’s place! They have respective spots on the couch, respective cushions, and one blanket that they share <3

What TV shows do they watch together, and which ones do they hide from the other? ~ Zack has gotten Sephiroth to binge the Last of Us with him—which resulted in Sephiroth having to calmly assure his shaking friend over and over and over again that a parasite will never control his mind, that he will never become a mindless, violent zombie, and that he will always be there to protect him <3 Meanwhile, Zack doesn’t have any shows he watches in secret, as he likes to share everything he finds with his bud. Sephiroth shares similar sentiments.

Except for the Pokémon Anime

#sephiroth #ffvii #crisis core #zack fair #ff7 #asks #ty!!#floof #zackseph #platonic

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birthdayplant · 7 days

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Educating people on PMDD because i’m tired of it being perceived as just really bad PMS. I wrote this for my partner, but I think it’s helpful to those with the condition and those with loved ones who struggle with PMDD.

It is unclear what totally causes PMDD, but most say it’s a sensitivity to fluctuating hormones during the luteal phase. When estrogen dips and progesterone rises, it fucks with your serotonin levels. PMDD can also caused by hormonal imbalances. There is also a history of having trauma or CPTSD when one has this illness. The condition is also known to worsen over time until you reach menopause.

You know how some people drink alcohol and become happy while others become angry and depressed? That’s how you can perceive how one reacts to their progesterone levels with this disorder; like a negative manifestation of alcohol consumption. It’s almost as if you have an allergic reaction to your hormones when they drastically fluctuate.

“Hormones not only control your body and everything you do and feel, they are everything you do and feel. A Hormone makes you feel happy or sad, accomplished or motivated, affectionate, horny, competitive, hungry or full. We’re a walking sack of chemical reactions that appears to be sentient.”

There are 3 phases of the menstrual cycle: the follicular phase, ovulatory phase, and luteal phase. The luteal phase (last phase) of the menstrual cycle is usually 12–14 days long, but can also be longer lasting up to 17 days. The luteal phase of your menstrual cycle occurs right after ovulation and ends when you get your period. During the luteal phase, serotonin levels drop changing the brain’s neurocircuit that affects emotional and cognitive functioning.

Everyone gets PMS right before their period. I understand why people believe PMDD to be a “more intensive” PMS, but the major difference is PMDD is a long-term Chronic illness; it’s disabling.

PMDD affects your ability to normally function in your relationships, at work and in your home. PMDD completely alters your ability to function as you normally would outside of this cycle.

The symptoms usually occur in the week prior to menstruation, but for me personally, I experience these symptoms for at least 10-12 days; practically during my entire luteal phase. PMDD symptoms are the worst when your progesterone levels are the highest.

Here is a very long list of symptoms that can manifest in someone who struggles with PMDD

Common physical symptoms:

-Abdominal bloating

-Breast tenderness or swelling

-Headaches

-Nausea

-Feeling weak

-Abdominal cramps and pain

-Weight gain

-Clumsiness

-Body discomfort

-Being more jittery/restless

-Binge eating

-Sleep dysregulation

-Swelling of the hands or feet

-Joint or muscle pain

-Tension and soreness in body

Common emotional/mental symptoms:

-Angry outbursts/feelings of intense hatred

-Anxiety

-Confusion

-Depression

-Dysphoria

-Feeling overwhelmed/out of control

-Libidinal (sex drive) changes

-Mood swings

-Decreased concentration

-Irritability

-Appetite changes

-Restlessness

-Lack of interest in usual activities

-Feelings of hopelessness

-Social withdrawal

-Overthinking

-Paranoia

-Stress

-Crying spells

-Repetitive suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation

-Panic attacks

-Lashing out on people/objects

-Lack of concentration

-Insomnia

-Shameful feelings

-Reactivity (feeling more sensitive than usual and taking things more personally)

-Thoughts that everyone hates you or wants you dead

-Brain fog

-Thoughts of ending things/impaired decision making (relationships, life, jobs, etc.)

Prevalence rates for lifetime suicidal ideation in people with PMDD were 45.8% and 37.4%, compared with 17.3% and 13.3% for people without PMDD. Many have attempted suicide or had a plan to get away from the debilitating illness.

How can I help a loved one who struggles with PMDD?

PMDD not only affects the person with the condition, but it also affects the people around them, especially their loved ones. One of the worst parts about PMDD is the sense of shame that’s felt when one realizes that they were short/rude to a loved one who didn’t deserve it. Many people don’t feel like themselves during their PMDD episodes as it can bring out the worst parts of yourself.

-If a loved one is going through an episode and does something you don’t like, talk compassionately to them about what hurt you and set a boundary: It’s very common for those with this condition to act unconsciously, have outbursts and disagreements during an episode. If you point your finger at them with frustration, they’ll either get angry and lash out even more or feel awful and internalize what you said due to the lack of awareness. Hold the person accountable, but remember that they aren’t intentionally meaning to frustrate you.

-Remind yourself AND your loved one that they’re having an episode: It can feel like your loved one is creating tension in the relationship as they may frequently express negative feelings. You may internalize this thinking that you’ve done something and take it personally, but most likely you haven’t and they’re just incredibly sensitive and vulnerable at this time. When one is going through an episode, their serotonin levels are quite literally at their lowest during their luteal phase. By reminding yourself that this is just an episode and having understanding that your partner is not doing this out of ill-intent makes you less hard on yourself and by reminding your partner that they’re experiencing an episode helps them be less hard on themselves and makes them more mindful as to how they may be functioning within the relationship.

-Take care of your loved one: Offer things that may ease their symptoms.

-Show your loved one some extra tender love and care: During this time your loved one’s view of themself will be at their lowest. Show them you love them and reassure them that they’re a good person and deserve to be loved.

-Help them reframe their mind and give them different perspectives: Sometimes it’s very hard for people with PMDD to see things differently. When they’re having a rough day during their episode they may not know how of pull themselves out of negative feelings/a negative mindset. They can also deal with false/negative beliefs, so it’s very helpful to offer different perspectives for them to cope better.

-Do things to make their lives easier during this time (ex. Cleaning apartment, doing dishes, doing small things you yourself can do (like grabbing the remote, putting something away, closing the door, etc.) rather than asking them to).

-Practice patience

-If you are dating someone with PMDD it’s very helpful to come up with a plan for the duration of your partner’s episode.

-If a loved one threatens to kill themselves or is acting off, please take it seriously.

If anyone who struggles with PMDD feel free to message me! You’re not overreacting or being too much; you’re living with an incredibly debilitating condition that alters your ability to self-regulate. I hope this was helpful. Let me know if you have any questions :)

#pmdd #premenstrual dysphoric disorder

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thequeenpapaya · 7 months

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My first Hazbin fic I suppose. Trigger warning for ED content, don’t read if it could be triggering <3 take care of yourself babes. Very important!

(Fic below the cut)

“Are you really eating all that?”

“You’ll get fat, I’m surprised you’re not already.”

He usually just tells people to fuck off, or laughs about it. It irks him that stupid comments from nobodies even stick to him, that they matter to him. They shouldn’t.

He’s above that.

At least, Adam likes to think he is.

He used to be. Before it started to really sink in, he supposed. Before phones started becoming a thing in heaven. But he’s still above it, right?

He’s the first man. If anything, other people should be looking to HIM for the ideal. Not the other way around.

So he doesn’t really know why he spends his time worrying. Why he grits his teeth and scrolls through social media posts about ways to look better. Be better.

Portion control. Exercise. Counting calories. Don’t eat too much. Eat the right things.

But that’s the problem. Adam feels like he can’t. He would never admit it, but he doesn’t want to exercise beyond what he already does. He’s lazy. He doesn’t want to count calories and eat only healthy things.

It just tastes too good. His guilty pleasures. The grease of it, the feeling of the food on his tastebuds. It makes him happy, in the moment at least. Even if the aftermath isn’t as serotonin filled as the act of eating itself gives.

But he found a workaround, a way to have the best of both worlds… a way to get an even better feeling of euphoria. One that makes the enjoyment of food seem like just the buildup for the real drug. So euphoric as he revels in the feeling he gets of emptiness and control.

And yet it’s so… dirty. Like a secret you keep from everyone out of fear they’d find you disgusting. The thought of anyone knowing how he keeps in shape fills him with a deep sense of dread.

But it’s not wrong. He’s not doing anything bad. Angels are supposed to be perfect, in all ways. If he has to shove his fingers down his throat to stay slim, what’s the harm? It’s not hurting him.

Not physically.

And just because he thinks about food a lot, what to eat, and how to purge, when to purge, if he got it all up… well—that doesn’t mean it’s affecting him mentally either! He’s just dedicated to the craft.

He’s fine. Obviously. It’s just everyone else that would act weird about it. It’s a them problem.

“Sir, are you okay?” Lute’s voice pierces through the brain fog. Adam didn’t even realize he was spacing out before her eyes narrow at him… in, concern? No, maybe just annoyance.

“Uhhh… yeah? Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Adam grins at her like it was a dumb question to even ask. Because it was.

“You’ve been quiet for the past five minutes.” Her voice is even and factual. Arms folded behind her back, same still pose.

“And that’s not allowed? Jesus, can’t do anything these days.”

“It’s just not like you. You usually talk more.”

Yeah, he knows that. It wasn’t like he meant to space out. He was just… thinking. Adam grips his wrist, subconsciously wrapping his fingers around it. Not that it told him much—he had long fingers. But it soothed him to be able to wrap them around anyway, all the way. With space to spare too.

“What, you just wanted to hear my awesome voice? You can just say that instead of acting all—eughh… worried?” Adam sticks his tongue out in disgust. “Sooo not like you, freaks me the fuck out. Don’t. It’s cringe.”

Lute groans, rolling her eyes at him. Clearly whatever concern she might have had evaporated when he went back to acting normal again. Which was good. He didn’t need it.

He was so in the clear.

“… have you lost weight?”

Or not. What the f—

“What? No? Why?” Adam replies, extremely quickly too. A nervous laugh leaving him as he realizes how absolutely guilty he sounds. It was just a question, chill out. It was a good thing too, so why the reaction?

“Err… I mean, yeah I have. Just a little bit, I guess. Why are you even asking?”

“Because you look thinner, that’s why I asked.” Lute really never takes any shit, does she? Always straight to the point… Adam did like that about her.

“Thanks. I work for this body, you know?~” Adam raises an eyebrow as he smirks at her. He felt a little more happy, more confident. Nobody really commented on his body, well, outside sex.

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

That cut his mood instantly. His smile dropped off his face as if it had never even been there at all.

“Excuse you? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t intend for his response to sound so defensive and angry. It just came out like that, and he couldn’t calm down. He wasn’t even registering that he should try to cool down.

Lute notices the shift, of course. Her eyes narrowing further at him, like she’s analyzing him. His behavior. Adam feels uncomfortable, which only fuels the defensiveness.

“I mean that you’ve been getting thinner for a while, I just didn’t see a point in bringing it up before now.” Hearing her say that frustrated Adam more. What did she mean she’d noticed? And hadn’t even complimented him at all!? Honestly, rude if you ask him.

“And why would you bring it up now then?” He asks, glaring a little.

“Because you’re starting to look unhealthy.” Her gaze is now very accusatory. Like she’s expecting him to give some sort of explanation.

“I’m sorry, unhealthy? Me? Don’t even—I’m hot as fuck! I’m peak fucking performance right here!” Adam laughs, it’s a little forced. Sounding more like he can’t believe this conversation is even being had.

“I’m not fucking unhealthy. I look great, the best I ever have as a matter of fact. How would you know what the fuck I look like anyway? My outfit is loose.” Now he’s the one narrowing his eyes at her. He knew she was perceptive, but he didn’t think anyone could really… see his body.

“I can just tell. What does it matter how?” Lute scowls, already getting fed up with him.

“It matters because it’s a fucking lie.” Adam didn’t think he looked bad. If anything he was happier with how he looked now then what he did before.

Lute scoffs, and stays quiet for a few seconds. Thinking to herself. Then she gets this look, like she just put something together. The expression on her face says it all about how she feels.

“You know it’s a sin to—“ Lute starts to speak, her tone cold, and Adam already knows what she’s going to say. Because she’s mentioned it before. That she thinks he’s weird for always disappearing for so long into the bathroom after he eats. Maybe she really had figured it out.

After all, he is eating like a pig most days, yet he’s losing some weight? Maybe nobody but her notices because nobody else cares to notice.

But he knows— she wouldn’t approve, she doesn’t seem like she’s about to approve that’s for sure.

So he cuts her off before she can finish.

“You know what? I’m done with this conversation. If you’re gonna be a bitch, I don’t wanna listen.”

He scoffs and stalks off. Frustration and anger boiling in his chest. Nobody had any right to tell him he was somehow not right, he was completely fine. Perfect even.

Despite telling himself this, all the feelings bubble and boil inside him. Going from his chest and settling in his stomach. Feeling heavy. Like the heavy feeling of a meal weighing him down like bricks, solid cement in his stomach.

He doesn’t want to feel like this. And there’s always one thing that makes him feel lighter. Better. Emptier.

Finding himself back in front of the toilet, on his knees. A common occurrence for him by now, his mask off to the side, on top of the sink. Blank face looking down at him as he shoves two long fingers all the way back into his throat…

Adam doesn’t know when it went from just a thought, to doing it. From only doing it when he overate on sweets. To only when he ate sweets and when he ate too much in a meal. To only each meal. To only… everytime he eats.

He doesn’t even have anything to throw up. As he gags and coughs, the back of his throat convulsing around his fingers as he presses down. Only pulling them out last second as he retches, when stomach acid burns his mouth and spill out.

Only once is never enough, of course. He always needs to make sure the bile is clear. That there’s nothing left. That usually takes a while, since he tends to eat a lot in one go. He’s gonna puke it anyway, so why not go crazy?

But it’s already clear. So why does he shove his fingers in again? Because that high hasn’t come yet? The feeling of euphoria he gets knowing he got rid of it all?

Maybe once he purges these uncomfortable feelings, he’ll stop. His stomach already feels lighter, cleaner. It hurt too, but it hurt in the best way possible.

It’s not before he sees speck of golden blood splash into the water that he stops. Not because he’s worried, he knows he will be fine. He’s an angel, he’s fucking Adam. He’s always gonna be fine.

Blood just meant he was doing it as right as he could… yeah?

He coughs a little. Hand wet with saliva, dripping down his forearm. He flushes the vomit and stands up, feeling much lighter then when he knelt down.

Looking at his reflection as he washes his hands felt like looking at a stranger at times. He rarely went without his mask… seeing his pale face staring back at him, eyes red and teary. Slightly puffy cheeks contrasting his thin hands. Golden feathers behind him looking dull, lifeless.

All he can think in that moment isn’t that he doesn’t look well, that maybe he’s not so fine. Because it’s not normal to do this, is it? Nobody else seems to do it here, if they do they aren’t talking about it.

No… all he can think about is how the puffy cheeks make him look fat. It makes him feel sick all over again, the only thing keeping him from punching the mirror is the fact he puts his mask back on before he gets overwhelmed.

But he’s fine. He always will be. Adam smiles, the holographic face staring back betrays no sort of turmoil he might be feeling deep down.

If he can’t see his own pain, then nobody else will either. He doesn’t want them to… he doesn’t want to.

“You got this. You’re fine, better than fine.”

Adam almost believes it himself. That’s all that matters right now. If he believes it, it’s true.

It has to be.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin adam #hazbin fic #my fic #papayawrites

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