#if the Mental Illness isn’t already off putting enough

[alxndryngs]

A Day Off

A/N: Since I am in desperate need of comfort/fluff, I came up with this. Enjoy!

———

Alcina’s favourite maid has a bad day.

———

Alcina, sitting in her atelier, was focused on her newest art piece. She only recently had gotten back into painting, and upon her new oil paints arriving, she had pushed work aside for once and hid away in her art room.

She even asked for her daughters to stay by themselves for the day, and put Bela in charge. Alcina wanted to dedicate herself to the work in process fully, without distractions.

The smell of fresh paint and sounds of birds chirping outside had fully consumed her, and hours passed without her noticing.

It was only when the feeling of hunger clawed at her throat that she noticed how much time had passed. Alcina called out, loud enough for the maids to hear.

“Yes, my lady.” Ingrid asked upon entering, her hands folded behind her back.

“Let y/n know I’m in desperate need of a glass of wine, and perhaps a small snack. She’ll know what to make me.”

Y/n had been her personal maid for almost three years at this point, having proven herself more than capable and worthy. Alcina took a liking to the girl, despite her wanting to admit it. She acted with grace, was humble and kind. Everything Alcina thought she herself was not, despite acting with grace.

The maid had left soon after, nodding before dismissal.

“Thank you, my-“ Alcina’s words ceased once her head turned and she was met by the image of Helena, and not y/n. “I asked for y/n, if I’m not mistaken.” Her tone now had a sharp edge to it, already feeling the annoyance bubbling up inside of her.

“Yes, my lady, I’m aware. But I was available, y/n isn’t feeling well today.”

Alcina paused, the paint covered brush slowly being lowered before placed down. It had surprised her that her little maid was feeling ill. In the years y/n had worked at the castle she might have fallen ill three times in total. Nothing could shake her, not even the freezing temperatures of the winter. Instead of freezing and sitting in front of her fireplace, she insisted on Alcina’s daughters receiving her firewood. ‘She didn’t need it’ she said.

“Well, send her the castle nurse. She will fix a remedy for whatever it is that is causing her to feel ill.” Alcina nodded, convinced this idea would be the solution. As the maid stood still, her mouth opening and closing to fish for an answer, Alcina snapped.

“Stop gawking at me like a dying bubble eye fish and do as I said! What am I paying you for?”

The maids mouth now stood agape in fear, and she stuttered for an answer. “I’m- my lady. I’m ever so sorry. A remedy from the nurse won’t help her. She’s just.. not feeling well mentally today.”

The maid paused, then adding in a panicked tone. “I apologise. I’m not sure if I was allowed to share that with you, Lady Dimitre-“

“I’m your employer, you’ll share with me when you last bled if I wish for you to.” Alcina growled, now standing and pushing the maid aside as she left her atelier.

As she strut through the castle, an anxious feeling overcame her. Y/n had always been collected and happy, and it seemed out of order for her to put work on hold. She had seen people die and burn because of Alcina’s wrath. People burning and screaming, being gutted, and managed to sleep like a baby. It confused Alcina.

She had slowed once entering the hallway leading towards the maidens rooms. Her heels thudded against the carpet, ceasing once having approached y/n’s room.

“Y/n?” Alcina called out, waiting for a response before gently knocking on the door with her knuckle. “Y/n, darling. I’ve heard that-“

Alcina stopped herself as the door opened. She fought the smile threatening to spread across her lips when y/n looked back at her.

“My lady.” She greeted, the same smile as always on the girls lips.

Alcina stood confused, licking her lips to moist them before pushing a smile back.

“Do you need me to wash your dress?”

Alcina’s brows furrowed “Pardon?”

“Your dress, my lady. It’s covered in paint.”

Alcina didn’t bother looking down at herself. Instead she shook her head and began to lean down, moving to step into the room as y/n stepped back to allow her to.

“I heard you were ill.” The stutter in y/n’s heart didn’t miss her. Alcina turned to look at her, waiting until she had closed the door before speaking again, her tone softer this time.

“You have always been by my side, ever since you came to Castle Dimitrescu. You’ve listened to me rant about my incompetent brother, complain over my business and daughters. You even dried my tears and blood for me. It is my turn to return the favour, my dear. Sit, and speak to me. What’s causing your little heart to beat this way?”

Alcina lowered herself onto the bed as she spoke. Y/n wasn’t sure if she had ever seen the kindness in Alcina’s eyes like there was now. It was inviting, comforting.

She obeyed, taking a seat next to her lady. It didn’t take long for the words to pool out of her, and all of a sudden, she had displayed the world to Alcina. Every single one of her concerns and problems laid splayed out before her, for her to look at and judge.

But instead, Alcina remained silent the whole time. Not once had she budged in to ask a question, even though there were multiple that burned on the tip of her tongue.

For comfort, Alcina removed the cream coloured handkerchief from her pocket. The Dimitrescu sigil was stitched into the corner.

Carefully, she had dried the maids tears. Her large hand cupped her cheek, and with the other she dried her tears.

Y/n cried, her face flush because of it and the embarrassment of crying in front of someone like Alcina. A wave of guilt overcame her for so freely unloading her problems onto Alcina.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t have burdened you with my problems, I-“

“Shush.” Alcina snapped, her voice immediately softening after. For a moment she hesitated, but then gently pulled her into her lap. She had to lift her slightly to her height to give her a proper hug. Alcinas gloved fingers ran through her hair, holding her close enough to feel her heartbeat against her own chest.

“Don’t ever say that. You are not a burden, or burdening me by speaking about your feelings. Your feelings are more than valid, especially in topics like the ones you have shared with me just now. I am beyond proud that you shared your concerns. It takes courage to speak up about one’s concerns. And from what I can tell, this has bothered you for a long time.”

Alcina gently peeled the maid off of her, only enough so she could look at her. Y/n had leaned on her only after moments, quietly crying into the woman’s shoulder.

Her hands cupped her small face, and Alcina spoke quietly.

“I want you to know that I always will be someone you can trust, and confine in. I’m here, and I’m listening. Do you hear me?”

A small sob bubbled out of her, and she nodded. Y/n’s eyes closed as Alcina pressed the most gentle kiss to her forehead, letting it linger enough for both of them to have time to relish in it before pulling away.

Her lips had left behind a red mark which she would make sure to remove later on. But for now, she was returning the hug y/n had given her. She had thrown her arms around the older woman, holding on tight as her walls began to fully break down and crumble beneath them both.

Alcina closed her eyes, holding her close as she swayed them from side to side. Whispering sweet nothings calmed y/n after a few minutes, and Alcina made sure to show her appreciation of the girl for the rest of the day.

“I started a new art piece.. would you like to join me in the atelier for the rest of the day?” Alcina offered with a smile which intensified upon seeing y/n smile at the suggestion.

She wondered if the girl would notice that it was her Alcina was painting. Taking a stroll through the Dimitrescu garden at midnight, the moon shining down on her.

[lxvebelle]

❪ ★ ❫ 𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: aaron warner x ADHD fem!reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: in where aaron warner helps his girlfriend with her ADHD.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: slight burnout, pet names, stress, slight eating disorder, mental illnesses, anxiety(?), comfort, fluff, use of Y/N, fem reader, modern AU (this is totally a self insert but idc because I NEED TJIS RN OKAY DONT BLAME EM GUYS BLAME GOD)

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 1343

𝐀/𝐍: i like totally needed this because i just got overwhelmed and had a breakdown yesterday and i dont feel motivated to do shit todsu (its glimg to go away tomorrow but let me be dramatic smh) ANYWAS THIS IS FOR ALL MY ADHD GIRLIES WHO ARE LIKE ME AND SUFFER WITH THIS <333 (also idk if this is realistic or just normal for yall, i just put the things that happen to me everyday that classifies as adhd😾)

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐀/𝐍: ykw idk if tjis ks good or not i made this at like 1 am so im tirdx bfo but whayever ima post it and see what happens lol

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐃: ✓

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: @reminiscentreader @never-enough-novels @ilyiwdtpyiwmyhmtkys @evaswarner @sc11vb @sophiesonlinediary @starrynightsxo @f4iry-bell @his-littlefox @viivdle @aaron-warner @reyreadersblog @urbanflorals @heqrtlcss (ask if you want to be added or removed from taglist! <3)

1. executive dysfunction.

(ONE example: focusing too much on one thing, OR, hyperfixation.)

now, you know that you were supposed to be doing something else. it’s about 11:20, and that’s when you and aaron eat lunch together. but, you had to finish this.

plus, it’ll only take a little while, right? it isn’t like you’ll spend thirty more minutes writing a synopsis for a book you read for a friend who asked about it.

wrong.

ten minutes later, your shoulder gets gently pushed. your eyes immediately trail to the owner of the hands and find aaron.

“i know, i know, i’m almost finished,” you say, going back to quickly typing on the keyboard of your laptop. you could feel aaron frown, his eyes still on your head.

“love, it’s time for lunch. you know you have to eat, right?” he asks, putting his hands on the armrest of your chair. though, you barely pay attention to it. “i know. i’m almost finished, though.”

aaron sighs before you find yourself getting turned around in your chair, making your arms fling to the armrest. the blond leans down so he can meet your eyes, his face stern.

“y/n. you know i love you—so much—but it’s time to stop and eat lunch. you know that,” he says, sternly, his eyes focused on you.

you frown and glance back to your laptop before sighing and agreeing with him. “okay, okay,” you grumble, getting up from your chair.

aaron smiles as he follows behind you as you walk into the living room to eat lunch with him.

2. uncontrollable fidgeting.

(a physical reaction to stress or concentration.)

you couldn’t help it. you practically needed something to fidget with. this day was already stressful with you forgetting to set your alarm clock, causing both you and aaron to wake up late; not to mention work being stressful and hard for you.

it was an instinct to fidget whenever you were stressed.

you quickly put your keys down once you made it into your house and immediately looked around for aaron. sadly, you didn’t see him in the living room, or kitchen, so you went to your shared bedroom.

luckily, you find aaron on the bed, who, surprisingly, is wearing a grey hoodie and sweatpants. you don’t have time to gawk before you walk up to your boyfriend and practically lounge on top of his chest, making him grunt in shock.

“angel?” he asks, turning off the tv with the remote before his hands wrap around your hips.

you start to fidget with the strings of his hoodie, tugging on them and folding them up. normally you’d have one of those pop-its or a different kind of fidget toy, but this time, you don't.

aaron thankfully figures out what’s happening when you don’t respond and quickly leans over to his bedside counter, careful not to move you, and gets one of the fidget toys he got for you.

huh, you didn’t even realize that was there.

“here, angel,” he says softly, smiling whenever you look up at him take the toy from his hands and start to fidget with it on his chest.

you see him grab the remote and turn on the movie that he was watching before moving one of his hands behind his head, his other hand still resting on your hip.

3. choice paralysis.

(inability to choose choices or decisions.)

you bite your lip in stress, your fingers tapping against your thigh. you and your friends decided to hang out, and they wanted to meet up somewhere again.

it was going fine until one of your friends decided to let you choose since you’d never chosen before.

“so, where are we going, y/n?” your friend beside you asks, lifting an eyebrow at you. it isn't their fault that they don't know about your adhd. only your close friends do, but they’re not here right now. and that makes this 10x worse.

“uhm… i don’t know,” you say with a shrug. saying i don’t know to things was always easier than making decisions. choosing made you panic, stressed, even though you didn’t know why.

“come on, y/n. you can’t just say i don’t know about this,” your other friend sighs, looking up at you from the floor. you nervously bite your lip, moving your feet around.

“well—i don’t really know places y’know? why don’t one of you guys choose?” you asked hopefully, hoping that they would spare you.

they didn’t.

“nope. it’s your turn to choose. we all chose,” the friend beside you says, shrugging nonchalantly. you begin to wish that aaron was there right now.

good thing that apparently, he’s a genie.

“you could just go to that cafe that just opened.” your friends turn to the voice who butted in, revealing aaron, leaning against the kitchen counter with his phone in hand.

“oh, yeah! i heard that it’s really good!” another friend butts in, smiling. the friend beside you frowns, looking at you. “are you sure you don’t want to choose this time? i mean we could let you choose—“

“no, no! it’s fine!”

4. trouble recalling commonly used words.

(you don’t remember the word you need to use, even though you’ve used it a hundred times before.)

you were pacing around your room with aaron sitting on your bed, watching you with a smile as you use your hands to exclaim your excitement about a new book you’ve read.

he always knew that books were one of your hyperfixations, and he never said no to you asking to buy piles of books.

“and then—oh my god—he literally smiled. like, he knew! he literally knew that he was going to win the case even though she worked so hard to collect—“ you cut off, trying to remember the word that you were going to use.

“uhm.. wait, what was the word—“

“proof?”

“yes! proof that he was a bastard and deserved to go to jail, but no! they just had to believe him over poor becca and nat who literally are in the fucking right! like, can you believe that?!” you rant, hitting your hand with your other hand in a chopping motion.

aaron lifts an eyebrow. “that sounds like the trial was flawed,” he says. words like that always came easy for him, which you never understood. you always had to think about easy words for some reason.

“it is! like, he’s literally so stupid and annoying—and—wait—and—irritating!” you groan, running a hand down your face.

aaron can’t help but chuckle at your aggression, hiding his smile with his hand. “shut up, aaron,” you deadpan.

5. poor sense of time.

(forgetting what time or day it is.)

oh shit, oh shit. you forgot all about this project. you quickly rush on the paper, your handwriting messy but you’re too stressed to care about that now.

you thought that it was wednesday. not thursday. how could it be thursday? you literally checked the time before and it was thursday. or was it?—you don’t remember anymore.

“angel?” aaron asks curiously, looking at your rushed state. “wait.” you continue to write down on the paper quickly, knowing that the deadline is in five minutes.

“shit, i thought it was wednesday,” you rant to aaron, continuing to scribble down words. “did you forget again?” aaron asks, though it isn’t judgmental.

“yes,” you groan, sticking your hand in your hair so you can lay the side of your face on your palm. “literally, how is it thursday?”

aaron just signs before walking closer to you, putting a hand on your back, and beginning to rub it gently in a form of comfort.

“well, now you know it’s thursday. and, you’re almost finished. even if it’s past the deadline, you’ll be finished with it quickly. don’t worry, love,” he says softly.

you glance up at him before swallowing, nodding your head softly. “yeah, yeah. thank you, darling,” you mumble, calming down. though, you still slightly rush to get through the paper so it doesn’t get late.

[written-in-flowers]

The Drifter: The Sea King's Curse (1.02a)

Pairing: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader

Word Count: 59k

Genre: fantasy, smut, fluff, adventure

Summary: When the corpses of mutilated mermaids wash up on shore, the lawmen of Levanter Bay seek YN's help to find the cause. They end up discovering this goes much farther than expected.

Tags: Graphic violence (just fist fighting and monster slaying), kidnapping, animal death (hunting out of necessity), graphic descriptions of corpses, death, autopsies, thalassophobia, fear of deep water, megalophobia (fear of large objects), sea monsters, mind control, mind manipulation, mental illness, dark magic, mentions of war, slight ptsd. vaginal fingering, p in v sex, monster fucking, bigdick!hyunjin. underwater sex, public sex, outdoor sex, monster dick

Part 1 < | > Part 3

Drifter Masterlist

***

The whale stopped right outside where you’d met Hyunjin that morning, and you lamented leaving him. You knew you’d see him again, but leaving him this moment left you empty inside. People told you sirens give that effect, so you tried not thinking too much as you swam away from him. You forced yourself to focus on whether Minho and Han had any luck with their part of the investigation. 

“More than enough luck!”

Han called as you and Chan arrived back at the station. He sat at his desk, leaning back with his feet on the top and a satisfied grin on his face. You gaped at his broken lip, and the black and yellow bruise on his temple. On his left hand, you saw a bandage wrapped around his palm, bloody in the middle. 

“Jisung!” Chan gasped, moving over to check his bruises. “What the hell happened?”

“Got into a bar fight,” he shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s no big deal.”

Chan gingerly lifted his bandaged hand, “What happened to your hand?” 

“Park Jinyoung, that’s what,” he grimaced when Chan turned his hand palm upwards. “He put a knife to me, and I had to get him off somehow.”

“With your hand?”

“It worked! I put a bullet in his leg, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He still got away.” 

That was when you saw them. A young man and woman sat in one of the holding cells, the enchanted purple bars keeping the woman from teleporting out. The young man had the wide, long ears and black eyes of a goblin, while the woman appeared human. The goblin noticed you first, his reaction not much different from other criminals who see you. He backed up into the wall attached to the bench, pushing back as if he might melt into the stone. His sudden jolt startled his companion, and she turned to see you as well. She didn’t back away, but her eyes did widen. 

“Jennie and Eric, right?” you asked, walking past Han and Chan to the cell. Eric crouched into the corner, but Jennie kept her gaze on yours. “The mage and the accomplice.”

“So the squirrel wasn’t lying when he said they knew a demon bounty hunter,” Jennie drawled, seeing your exposed markings. “Plan on roasting us, demon?”

“Not right away,” you leaned against the side of the door, arms crossed. “I’m going to take a stab and guess the deputies already questioned you?”

“They tried,” she sniffed. 

“We don’t know anything about Alcina!” Eric squeaked, eyes squeezed shut. “I swear, we don’t know anything about her! Not at all!”

“Eric!” Jennie hissed, kicking at him. 

“Alcina, huh?” you let the name rest out in the air, “Where did you meet her?”

“I’m not talking, demon,” Jennie spat, arms crossed. “Save your breath. You’re going to need it when Jinyoung comes for me.”

“What makes you think he’s coming?”

“We’re his crewmates,” she shot at you. “He needs us. We need him.”

“Does he?” you raised an eyebrow, “He can pick up any pair of misfits off Cortuga and sail off without a second thought about either of you.”

“He’d never do that!” she said angrily, frustration bubbling inside her. “He…He isn’t that kind of captain…” she looked away from you, biting her trembling lower lip. 

“Alright, sure. I honestly can’t wait for him to get here,” you then bent and whispered to her, “Then I can cook him alive myself.”

“Demon filth…” she grumbled through her teeth. “You’ll see soon enough. You’ll all see!”

“And I’m terrified,” you seethed. 

You turned to see Minho back at his desk. He did not leave the fight unscathed. You caught the busted blood vessel in his right eye. It was most likely caused by whatever object left a cut underneath the eyelid and purple and black around his eye. Another cut on his left cheek told you his attacker got in close before he blasted them away. He placed a large book on his desk, and opened it. 

“Alcina?” you walked over to him, grabbing a chair to sit on the other side. “Does that name ring a bell for you?”

“No, but I’m assuming it’s the person they’re working for,” Minho said, “Unless you two find something to contradict her?”

You told Minho everything you learned while Chan rewrapped Han’s injured hand. He froze up when you detailed Tytos’s condition, and mentioned The Creator. 

“That’s not Brain Fog,” Minho said when you finished. “Brain Fog might make you forgetful and dazed, but it doesn’t debilitate you at the same time. You say he looked thin and frail. In what way?”

You thought about it, “In a deathly way. It was as if the curse was slowly killing him at the same time. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days, his hair was brittle and thinning and his dry lips were cracked. Yet, when I mentioned his eldest son died, he seemed to break out of his delusion for a second before Mizu put him back under somehow.”

“How? Did you see what he did?”

“He touched the middle of his forehead,” you showed him the thumb motion Mizu had done, “And left behind some kind of black powder. Does that sound like any spell or curse you know? None of the ones I remember require that sort of touch.”

“There are a few,” he rolled his chair to the bookshelf a few feet from his desk and scanned the shelves, “Brain Fog doesn’t require any sort of physical touch. You said you’d seen this in the war?”

“Yes,” you watched him pick out one of the black leather books and came to the desk, “The mage who removed it used a stone. Yejin thinks it might’ve been a black tourmaline.”

“Yes!” he cheered reading the cover of the book, “Demonic Curses of the Dark Age! I knew I had it somewhere. I bought it at a sale in Newport. The warlock selling it says it was written by a real demon who was put to death for writing down their secrets!” He brought the book back to the desk, and opened it. “There’s a chapter in here somewhere,” he scanned the first page, “About manipulation curses. It has everything from elemental manipulation to molecular manipulation to zoological manipulation! I devoured this book in days! There’s so much!”

“Okay, Minho, that’s great,” you said, amused by his eagerness, “But does it have anything about mind manipulation?”

“It might…” he then asked, “You said the mage used a stone?”

“He did,” you nodded, “He said some sort of incantation while he did it, and the curse was gone.”

“Hmm…” he flipped another page, “Black tourmaline is a good stone for battling negative energy and psychic attacks. It’s regularly used for sapping out a curse.”

“What do you do after you have it in there?” asked Han, who winced when Chan closed the bandage. 

“You usually melt or break the crystal,” Minho said. “A lot of fairies study alchemy so they can dispose of dark matter easier.”

“And I’m going to guess you’re one of those fairies?” he grinned humorously. 

“I am,” he nodded. “We only need to find the right incantation.”

You shut your eyes as the day slowly broke down on you. “As fun as reading books late at night can be,” you yawned, slumping against the chair, “I think my brain is ready to shut off.”

“Not surprised,” he said, “Swimming around Hydrus will do that to you. You two get some rest. We won’t be finding our answer tonight.” 

“You sure you want to walk to The Pearl like that?” asked Han when he saw you stand from your chair. 

“Yes, why?” You then realized why Minho tried so hard not to look at you and why Han could not stop looking at you. 

You’d gone into Hydrus in just your bra and pants. 

“Oh, so Chan can walk around shirtless and nobody cares, but if I walk around with a bra on, it’s suddenly a problem?”

“Nobody said Chan can walk around shirtless,” Minho said, still focused on his book, “He just does it and we accept it.”

“You’ll get no complaints from me,” Han said breathlessly. 

“Jisung,” Minho snapped, something similar to jealousy in his voice. 

“Oh Minnie, you know I only have eyes for you,” he batted his lashes and blew a kiss. 

“Ugh,” you groaned and made for the door, “It’s not a big deal. Wearing my shirt and jacket would have weighed me down. It’s not much different from swimming suits.”

Han stifled a laugh, “Which can be just as deadly on a woman like you.” 

“Oh hush.” 

“Men are the worst,” Jennie said from her cell. 

“They are!”

You left the station without another word, walking out into town. Yes, you did get a lot of stares as you walked up to the White Pearl. Though, something told you it was your markings and not the lack of a shirt that caught stares. Honestly, you felt too tired to really care. Muscles aching from the constant swimming around in the ocean, you thought only about peeling off your damp clothes and crashing onto your bed. Moving through the crowded inn, you saw Felix singing up on stage. The pretty blond winked at you when you met his eyes, and you’ll admit you found him charming. 

Not as charming as the bed waiting upstairs. 

****

“I believe they are unto us, Creator. The mainlander lover and the old fool were alone with him.”

“Have they undone our work?”

“Of course not, but…one of my guards said his shark sensed somebody else in the room with us. I believe it was her half-breed son hiding in plain sight.”

“Then you must get rid of him. Our spell is almost complete. In a few days, King Tytos will die and the Seven Seas will be ours.”

“Of course, Creator. I will have my best men on it. We will kill that mainlander and whoever else stands in our way.”

The Creator remained silent in her orb, and Mizu sensed she was searching in “the beyond”. He noticed her gasp, and hesitated. “No…this cannot be. It must not be true.”

“Creator?”

“I see eternal fire within the waves,” she said. “I see…Oh, I can feel her powers now.”

“Whose powers, Creator?”

“The Vanquisher…The demon who slayed The Dark Lord…She is here…” her voice suddenly sharpened, “You must stop her! She cannot succeed!”

“The Vanquisher?”

“The Vanquisher!” she hissed. “The fire demon named Multak, who slew our master in Incheon and sent him into The Abyss! Our mortal enemy! She will foil our plans if we do not stop her!”

“What would you have me do?”

“Distract her. Keep her busy with your pirate friends while I work my magic. It appears we will have to speed up the process.”

“As you command, Creator.” 

****

“How was your adventure under the sea?” 

Changbin passed your breakfast plate to you on the bartop, and refilled your milk cup. You licked your lips at the steaming eggs, bacon, grits and biscuit on your plate. 

“Great,” you answered, digging into the eggs right away. You hadn’t noticed your hunger until you’d woken up this morning with your stomach growling. The fluffy eggs melted in your mouth and you thought you’d melt with them, “Met a pretty siren, saw some fish, and got to ride a whale. Very eventful.”

“A siren, huh?” he asked with an impressed grin. “Did you get lucky?”

“Unfortunately not,” you frowned, thinking of handsome Hyunjin’s pretty mouth. “I was there on business, so there wasn’t much room for pleasure.”

“Shame,” he said. “When you came in here without a shirt, I was hoping to hear a wilder story than that.”

“Well, I did get to sneak into a palace, so it wasn’t totally uneventful.” 

Changbin chortled, and you started telling him about your journey when a high cry broke through the morning crowd outside. You chased your food with the milk as you peered into the windows. People rushed down the dirt road, fear in their eyes and adrenaline pushing them forward. They ran into nearby buildings, calling to those inside, and shutting doors and windows tightly. Dread filled your bones, and you suddenly didn’t feel hungry. Changbin, however, knew exactly what was happening. 

“Wooyoung!” he called into the kitchen, “Pirates!” He then reached under from the bar and retrieved a double sided axe. From the notches on the wooden handle, it’d been used plenty of times. “YN, either get your steel or go upstairs.”

“Pirates?” 

You slowly stood from your stool, and went to the window. A group of children ran into the inn, going right behind the bar. You heard Changbin direct them into the kitchen, while he whistled for Honey. Their calls came from far away, but their taunts and laughter stuck in your ears. He sent them. Whether to scare you or kill you, Mizu sent these pirates to you. While a twinge of fear did hit you, Zunar’s words whispered in your ear. 

“That’s the only time we can be brave, little flame.”

You went to grab your sword. 

When you returned, Changbin and Wooyoung already ran outside. While most of the citizens of Levanter Bay hid, a select few met the invaders: Fred Pebbles with a large club and his men shooting from behind wagons and crates; Han and Minho standing atop a nearby building, taking shots with bullets and magic arrows; Changbin with his ax and bear companion: Wooyoung with twin daggers and swift kicks, and even Mayor Wallace with a heavy hammer. The smell of blood and battle hit your senses, fueling you for the fight as you went up to the porch railing. 

One of Pebbles’s farmhands stood fighting a particularly nasty looking pirate goblin, so you jumped behind the goblin with a swift kick. Once on the ground, the farmhand slammed her hammer into their skull. Your eyes scanned the invading pirates, daring one of them to come at you. One of them finally did. A bearded man with gunpowder smeared over his eyes came at you with a hatchet raised in the air, and you moved to block it easily. Your hand burning bright, you shot a fireball right into his abdomen. He cried in pain, and you kicked him away to fend off another pirate who ran up to your side. A slash up their middle had them crashing to the floor, while you shot another fireball at the bearded pirate. 

Effectively being burned alive sent the bearded back stumbling and running into a group of pirates, who moved out of his way. A woman’s cry caught you through the commotion, and you saw two men break into a boutique and start ransacking the place. You narrowed your eyes and rushed at them from behind. Levitating one into the ceiling and then slamming him to the floor, you swing your sword at his companion right as he reached for a small girl. He turned around, pain shooting up his back, to swipe a knife at you, which you returned with another fireball to his face. Your demon fire seared his skin, making him scream with pain. 

“Get somewhere safe,” you told the women inside, “And barricade the door.” When they froze with fear, you said more firmly, “Go! Now!” 

You stuck the screaming pirate with your blade, then kicked him off. When you stepped out the door, you waved your hand over the doorway where black clouds of smoke started embedding into the wood. The protection spell would keep any other pirates from breaking in. You’d stopped a pirate from attacking an elderly woman inside her stall when you saw him. 

Chan’s merfolk genes appeared to make him faster and tougher than a normal human. You watched him throw punches, dodge kicks and hands with precision and speed. You saw the weapon in his hand: a long dagger with a bone handle. Fearless, daring, and strong, you couldn’t help admiring him as you easily cut down a reptilian pirate. It’d been when he cut through another pirate that a voice rang out through the fray. 

“Where’s the demon called Multak?!”

A tall, tanned man with a small face and a square jaw came through the crowd. People around you gasped when they realized he held Mayor Wallace at gunpoint. You could tell the mayor put on a brave face even with a gun barrel in his stomach. A woman with copper skin and braided coarse hair ran out of a nearby shop, tears in her dark eyes. 

“Gerald!” Mrs. Wallace, the school teacher, cried out. She tried going to him, but Fred kept her at a distance. 

“I’m alright, Barbara,” he called out, not daring to look at her. 

“Let him go, Park,” Chan said, the fight having stopped with the captain walking onto the scene. “He’s not a part of this.”

“He is,” the captain cackled, “He is until you hand me back my first mate and bring me the demon.”

“I can’t do that, Park,” Chan replied, “She’s headed for the capital. It’d be awkward if they came for her and she wasn’t here, you know?” 

“Stop playing games, and give me Jennie, you half-breed.” 

“Call me that again, pirate,” Chan let the last word hiss like a curse, “And you’ll get your first mate alright.” 

You knew exactly how this would go if you didn’t step up. “You want me, pirate?” you stepped out from the crowd, putting yourself between Chan and Jinyoung. Removing your jacket, your markings began faintly glowing their red-orange colors. “Here I am.” 

“You’re the demon?” he huffed. “I thought you’d be taller and more…manly.”

“I thought you’d be manlier too,” you shot back. “Mizu sent you for me, and here I am. Let the mayor go.”

“Bring me Jennie,” he demanded, “Then I’ll think about giving your wimpy mayor back.”

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Park,” you said. “I’m already going to have a big day ahead of me, and I’d like to go back inside this inn and finish my breakfast at least. Wooyoung puts cream in the eggs? It makes them melt in your mouth.”

“Then you’ll have no problem handing over my Jennie.”

His Jennie? “I’m sorry, that’s not possible. You see, your first mate and her little goblin friend have information we need and, well, she just hasn’t given us what we want. We can give her back to you in between 365 to 730 business days.”

“I’m done fucking around, demon!” he shouted angrily. “Give me my Jennie!”

“Your Jennie, huh? Alright, I’ll go get her right now.” 

You turned around, eyes following you as you marched into the station behind you. He wanted to play this game? Then you’d play it too. Walking over to the enchanted holding cell, Jennie stood confidently and smiling smugly. 

“I told you he’d come for me, didn’t I?” she taunted, not scared by the anger flaring in your eyes. “He’s come for me and he’s going to burn your-Hey! Let go of me!”

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, you dragged the mage out of the cell, across the station, and outside. “You want her, huh?” you asked Jinyoung, keeping a firm grip on Jennie. “Here she is! Come and get her.”

“No, bring her here!”

You sneered, “Alright.”

“YN, what are you doing?” Chan whispered at you, but you ignored him. 

Jennie’s feet stumbled as you guided her over to her lover. You spotted the satisfaction in Jinyoung’s eyes, and it enraged you further. You threw Jennie onto the ground beside him, then spoke. 

“There she is,” you said, a growl in the back of your throat. “Let the mayor go.”

Jinyoung gave you a wicked grin. You had mere seconds. Reaching out to the gun on Mayor Wallace’s side, the heat from your hand immediately shocked Jinyoung’s body. A handprint similar to a branding covered his gun hand, which opened and dropped the gun to the floor. The mayor rushed to his wife nearby, but you kept your eyes on the pirate.

“Damnit!” he seethed, holding his shaking hand. The mark you left started steaming, burning the skin there further. “Damnit, damnit, dammit! You damn dirty demon!”

“Stop your howling,” you said. You grabbed him by a tuft of hair and growled, “I could’ve sent you to demons who’d do way worse than that.” You then asked, “Who is Alcina?”

“Who-o?”

“Alcina, the witch who cursed the king. Who is she?”

“Who?”

“‘Who, who, who’, are you a fucking owl?” You placed your hand on his shoulder, burning him once more. “Who is she? Tell me who she is or I’ll roast you alive!”

“I won’t tell you shit, demon!”

You touched him one more time, and you saw tears in his eyes. Jennie, who’d boasted about his love for her, did not move to protect or save her “lover”. 

‘They know nothing of loyalty. They turn on each other the moment the world starts crumbling.’ 

Nor’goth may have a point there. 

A gentle hand touched your arm, and Chan’s voice drowned out Nor’goth’s. “YN, don’t do this here. Everyone is watching.”

You suddenly became aware of everyone still in the square. He was right. Not here where children and soft-hearted folks could see. A flush of embarrassment and worry came over you when your fires faded. 

“Let’s take them into the station, and question them there,” he said, slowly soothing the fires blazing inside your chest. “Not torture them. Question them.” 

His soft hand touched the one holding Jinyoung up, and you released him. Han and Minho quickly collected both Jennie and Jinyoung. You turned to see the townspeople looking at you, fearful and shocked. They saw your glowing marks, your fiery hands, and saw the demon. A monster. At the end of the day, you are the monster they fear. 

“Come on,” Chan said gently. 

You swiped your jacket from the dirt and threw it over your shoulders. They’ll want you to leave after this. Nobody wants a demon in their town. It’s why you never stay. A lump formed in your throat, and you kept your head down as you followed Han and Minho into the station. You didn’t stop Han and Minho from putting Jinyoung and Jennie in another enchanted cell. Minho went to grab ointments from his desk while Han locked them up. You didn’t bother with the other two. They won’t tell you anything, but the goblin will. 

“Nam!” 

“Woah, woah, woah! Wait, wait-” Eric Nam ducked into the corner of the cell. 

You lifted him by his shirt collar. His fear dripped out of every pore becoming a fuel for the fire in you. “Who is Alcina and where is she?”

“YN!” Chan called behind you. You ignored him. 

“Who is she?!”

“She’s a witch we met in Cortuga!” he cried out, eyes shut tightly. “She said she’d make us rich if we helped her! She said all we had to do was kill a few mermaids and Jennie had to rile up some of the sea predators, and we’d be rich! I swear, that’s all I know! That’s all I know, please don’t burn me alive! Please!”

“I ain’t making promises,” you growled “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!” his voice cracked when you pushed him into a wall, “I swear, I don’t know! I don’t! We only met her once! That merman is who we communicated with!”

“Eric, you absolute coward!” Jennie called, brave now that she’s safe in another cell. 

“Merman? You mean Mizu?” Chan asked from the cell door. 

“Yes! Him!”

“Did he ever say where he meets Alcina?” he came up beside you. “Let him go, YN,” he said, hand on your wrist. 

You hated how easily you let go of Eric. On the ground, Eric took a few shaky breaths before he spoke, “He never told us, but I followed him one time. He gave us the ability to breathe underwater, and after one of our meetings, Jinyoung asked me to tail him. Jinyoung never works with anyone without knowing things about them. We thought he might be going to meet someone to do a double cross, but then I…I saw her.”

“Alcina?”

“In a cave outside of Hydrus,” he said, “In a leviathan’s lair. I can conceal myself, so none of them noticed me.”

“What did you hear?”

“Them talking about cursing the king.”

“With what?”

“They said something about mind consumption? I don’t know what that means.”

You turned to Minho, who sat nearby listening as he treated a hand-cuffed Jinyoung. He nodded, “Yes, I’ve heard of it. It’s a mental curse that slowly consumes the mind until the afflicted body deteriorates. It explains why Tytos’s body is slowly shutting down. The brain is having trouble sending signals to the rest of him.”

“Would a stone treat that?”

“It would,” he said, wrapping the pirate’s burnt hand. “I know someone who could help us.”

“Who?” 

“Our resident doctor and garden fairy, Yang Jeongin,” he said with a satisfied grin. “If anyone knows about healing crystals, it will be him.”

“You and YN can go talk to him,” Chan directed, “Han and I will watch over these three while we wait on the marshal.”

You hesitated to join Minho. Outside the windows, you saw the remaining pirates turning tail and running out of town by the docks. People coming out of the buildings convened together in the middle of the square, where they embraced loved ones. You then saw them start whispering. It might be about the pirates or about the demon who tortured one in front of them. Regardless, Minho guided you to the door. 

“You won't get the reaction you're expecting,” he assured you.

You realized that once you stepped back outside. At first, people looked apprehensive until you heard a steady clap from nearby. This clap then started a wave, and you saw bright, proud faces. 

“Thank you,” the boutique shopkeeper smiled, “Thank you for saving us! Those pirates were going to kidnap my little girl, but you showed them.”

“That goblin would've had my head if you didn't have my back!” Fred's farm hand clapped your shoulder, a toothy grin on her face, “Thank you!”

“Can you really set people on fire?!” Eunwoo, the moon elf boy from the inn, asked excitedly.

“Those pirates will think twice before messing with us again!” His friend said, swishing his stick like a sword.

“Boys, that's enough.” Barbara Wallace came up next, clutching her pearl necklace. She hesitated a moment, then said, “Thank you, YN, for saving my husband. Knowing him, he would've gotten himself killed if you didn’t step in.”

“How is he?”

“Just got a nasty bump from the fight. He's had worse injuries,” she sighed. “But, Eunwoo is right. Word will spread with time that Levanter Bay isn't as defenseless as it seems. It truly was a blessed day when you came into our town.”

“The sheriff, Han and myself were there too,” Minho pointed out, hands on hips. 

“And you handled it gallantly as always,” she patted his shoulder as she walked past him to the children nearby.

Their collective reaction silenced you. “They aren't…scared?” you looked at Minho as you continued through the square. 

“Did you want them to be?” asked Minho, amused. 

“No, but that's usually the reaction I get whenever people see, you know, me.”

“The people around here aren't like that,”  Minho said. “It’s not as if you tortured an innocent person. He was a scumbag pirate who tried to tear down the town. You did us a favor by arresting him.”

“Most people tend to think that I take it too far…the intimidation part, I mean.”

“The people who think that are idiots,” Minho scoffed. “You’re a demon, YN. Demons swear oaths to protect innocent souls and punish wicked ones, don’t they?”

“We do.”

“And that’s what you were doing: protecting innocent people and punishing the wicked ones.” He then said, “Look, if it makes you feel better, I would’ve made him think he was covered in snakes or spiders or something awful to get him to talk.”

“Psh, mind games,” you snorted, “They’re worse than physical ones, if you ask me.”

“Chan isn’t a fan of them, but it gets the job done and that’s what matters to me.” He said, “The people here aren’t like the people in the cities. They’re wholesome and quaint. They’re…accepting and open. It has to be for so many different people to coexist in the same town.” 

He wasn’t wrong. Levanter Bay, despite not having any real sun, definitely carried one of its own in the townspeople. More people thanked you and Minho as you walked down to the doctor’s office right beside the postman’s station. Above the door, someone wrote in black cursive letters: ‘Dr. Yang Jeongin, M.D.’ with a pair of fairy wings with a staff in between underneath. However, you didn’t stop at his office. Jeongin happened to already be outside, tending to a young man with a ghastly cut up his arm. 

You briefly remembered Jeongin from your last case, the handsome garden fairy who wore a gray and white hanbok, the traditional attire of his people. His long, bright green wings looked so thin they could be glass. As you drew closer, you saw the white blossoms woven into his black hair like a crown. He’d been in the process of finishing a stitch when you and Minho approached. 

“Hello, Minho,” Jeongin said without looking at him. “I’ll be with you in just a moment.”

Minho drew closer, crouching to survey the stitches on the man’s bloody arm. “Your stitching has gotten better.”

“My stitches were always fine. It was yours,” he cut the thread and tied it down, “That were crooked and too tight. Pass the gauze, please.” Minho handed him a roll of white gauze, and Jeongin began wrapping it. “What is this about, Deputy? I have a lot of people who need me.”

“We have someone who may need you more.”

“Who?” 

“King Tytos.”

Jeongin stopped wrapping when he heard the name. He looked over his shoulder at Minho, “The Sea King? What’s happened to him?”

“He has mind consumption, Jeongin,” Minho said seriously. “It’s slowly killing him . The mermaid corpses on the beach, the predator attacks along the coast, and the pirates today? They all have to do with Tytos being ill. My friend and I discovered that a way we can combat it is by-”

“-Sapping it out of him,” Jeongin finished, taping off the gauze swiftly. “Mr. Song,” he went into his medical kit beside him, “Take two of these tonight, and swing by in the morning.” 

He gave the injured man a packet, then stood up with his bag. “You need black tourmaline,” Jeongin said, turning back to his office, “Which is not easy to find in these parts.”

“Please tell us you happen to have one?” you asked hopefully. 

“It just so happens I do. Come with me.” 

He led you and Minho into his office across the road. Two young garden fairies stood inside, gathering supplies from shelves and putting them into baskets. “Kira, Koya,” Jeongin called to them, “See to the wounded outside. I have some business with Deputy Lee.” 

“Yes, sir,” the twin fairies said together, bowing before leaving the room by their wings. 

Jeongin put down his kit and walked to a workbench behind a curtain. “I’m sure you know by now that black tourmaline is used to defend against negative energy, correct?”

“Yes, we do.”

“And Minho should know that certain crystals,” you heard bottles clinking behind the curtain, “Can be used in rituals to remove said negative energies.”

“Obviously,” Minho said defensively. “I only need the incantation used to remove the consumption.”

You heard Jeongin rifle through his stores before coming back from behind the curtain. He held out a black pouch to Minho, “I really should go with you to assess his condition. We don't know how deep and how long the consumption has festered.”

“I estimate about a few weeks now?” You threw out there, “The corpses showed up two days ago, but a friend of ours says his illness has carried on long before that. He shows signs of severe dehydration, malnutrition, delusion, and memory loss.”

Jeongin listened intently, nodding and thinking to himself. “What color was his skin? His eyes?”

“Pale and paler.”

“Hair?”

“He had lots of patches and sores forming where his head rests. He doesn’t have much of it left either.”

“He shows all signs of severe consumption,” Minho told him. “I need the incantation, Jeongin.”

Jeongin walked over to a bookshelf, scanning the spines until he pulled one out. It appeared much older than some on the shelf, with flesh colored leather wrapped around it. Minho gasped upon seeing the strange book.

“What is a garden fairy doing with a dark remedy book?” Minho asked, touching the stitches keeping the cover together. 

“It was a gift, if you must know,” he said airily. “I am a doctor, Minho, and doctors need to learn all kinds of arts if they're to treat anyone. Dark magic, as much as it pains me to say, has plenty of full proof remedies.” He smirked at Minho, “What? You don't have one?”

Minho glared, “I do happen to have one. All shadow fae have one. I'm only surprised a bubbly, goody-two-shoes like you would have one as well.”

“I'm not always good. You know that.”

He turned a few pages in the book until he came across a section for curses of the mind. 

“Ah, here it is,” he said, putting glasses on the bridge of his nose. “‘Combined with a crystal of light energy or protection, hold it up to the area of first contact and repeat the mantra: ‘Replenish thy mind and embrace the light’ .”

“That's it?” Minho asked, unimpressed. “Just that?”

“Sometimes the treatment is simpler than you think.” He closed the book, “Find the infection site and hold it to him while you say the words. If the king is not as far gone as you believe, then he should be fine.”

“What if he is far gone?” You asked. 

Jeongin thought for a moment, then said, “Help him remember things. Anything he may have an emotional attachment to, like a happy moment or a particular event in his life.”

You thought about the king’s reaction to you when you’d spoken as his daughter. Speaking about his dead son, hearing another acknowledge his death, broke the spell for a few seconds. 

“Thank you, Jeongin,” Minho said, peeking into the pouch to see the black stones inside, “I'll bring these back so they can be disposed of properly. We don't want anyone using them.”

“I hope it works,” Jeongin said, replacing medical supplies in his bag, “Tytos is a good man, and his people will need him. I pray the Light is kind to him.”

You waited until you left the office to tell Minho, “We need to go now. If we keep putting it off, Tytos will slip too far for us to heal him.”

“Agreed. I'll tell Chan we're going ahead of him,” he dug into the dust pocket on his belt. “You've had a siren’s kiss, right?”

“I have,” you said, remembering Hyunjin’s soft lips. 

“Good to know.” He tossed some dust into the air, and spoke into the floating particles. “Chan, we have the cure. We're going to Hydrus right away.” He blew into the dust, and it zoomed away through the crowds. “There's no time to waste. Come on.”

***

A/N: sorry this part is so long! Haha, this episode is pretty long compared to the first one. I still hope you liked it, and thanks for reading <3 please reblog and like <3

Part 3 >

[caspersickfanfics]

Sharing a Receptacle

For @monthofsick day 1

Prompt List | AO3 | Ask | Rules

Warnings: Vomiting (graphic), fever

Anon asked:

I see you've got a lot of Cyno and Tighnari lined up already, so I sincerely apologise for adding to that, haha! If this is something you'd like to write, I'd love to see the prompt "sharing a receptacle" for Cyno and Tighnari! Maybe it starts off with one of them being sick and the other coming to care for them, only soon enough they also catch whatever has been making the other sick. (I love fics with multiple sick characters at once!)

Tighnari wakes to his stomach cramping for what feels like the hundredth time in a handful of days. He’s coughing before his eyes are even open but fortunately, he’s taken to sleeping with his arms latched onto a trashcan. He curls around it, hacking. He needs to sit. With the storm that has taken residence in his abdomen refusing to ease, it’s impossible to tell when his stomach contents will make a reappearance. Tighnari feels hands on his back guiding him upright and his body relaxes minutely. He knows who that is.

“Nari,” Cyno says simply, unnecessarily but sweetly confirming his identity. If Tighnari were any bit more aware of his surroundings, he might notice a weight to his partner’s voice that isn’t normally there, pulling it into a slow drawl. But he doesn’t, because his coughs have turned into retches. His stomach clenches and his back arches, entirely out of his control. 

He mentally chastises himself for trying to fight what’s about to happen. Tighnari has seen this process enough times to know that it’s easier to simply accept it - he’s lived through it countless times within the past week. And yet, when bile inevitably rises in his throat, his breath still stutters with a series of shallow, panicked gasps. One last instinctive act of resistance before sick spills over his lips, splattering to the bottom of the trashcan.

It used to be lined with a plastic bag, and Tighnari realizes with dismay that this is no longer true. Cyno must have forgotten to put a new one in after the previous bout of puking. Now, Tighnari stares vacantly downwards, trying not to think about how much scrubbing it will take to clean this. He feels more ill all the same, and the sight of vomit congealing against the plastic… He pitches forward again and blearily watches as the contained mess rapidly grows.

“Guh,” Tighnari shudders, his head hanging low in the trashcan. His body is wracked with queasy shivers and chills. Tears of exertion drip from his lashes. He realizes that Cyno, who is normally quiet, has gone completely silent, and wonders if he’s walked away. Tighnari is hit with a pang of hurt, and then confusion, because that doesn’t seem likely, but his foggy mind can’t seem to come up with a different explanation.

For better or worse, he can’t ponder it further. His stomach spasms and Tighnari finds himself spewing another stream of vomit into the trashcan.

Finally, the nausea alleviates moderately. Though the thought of food still makes him woozy, he believes he can move without hurling. Tighnari’s head feels heavy, but he lifts it anyway. His whole body relaxes upon finding that Cyno is still sitting on the bed beside him. Relief, for a moment, and then he freezes.

Cyno looks almost worse than Tighnari feels. He’s wearing a miserable expression, and his hands repeatedly grip his thighs - squeeze and release, squeeze and release - needing something solid to cling to. There’s no point in asking if he’s alright. 

“Oh, Cyno,” Tighnari murmurs. He’s exhausted, but attentive ears still catch a hitching breath. Several gurgling burps follow, rolling steadily out of the other man, and white hair drapes forward to curtain his face as Cyno curls in on himself. Tighnari’s hand finds the matra’s shoulder, drawing him close with a sigh. “Come here.”

Cyno settles against Tighnari’s side heavily, as if unable to hold himself up.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, voice slurring under the weight of nausea. His back ripples with consecutive aborted heaves and Tighnari winces and shakes his head.

“None of that. Just let it happen.”

Cyno is panting now, mouth gasping for air beneath a shaking hand. Tighnari gently pushes it out of the way. Cyno’s eyes flicker to him briefly and then squeeze shut. A pained moan escapes him. A shudder runs through the matra and it sparks something tender and protective under Tighnari's skin. He runs fingers through sweaty hair.

“Relax,” Tighnari instructs, voice firm despite his own growing queasiness. Cyno’s body immediately softens, easing towards the offered and already used trash bin. The next time his back arches, a stream of pale yellow puke spills over his lips. Tighnari catches just a glimpse, but it’s enough to bring his own nausea back in full force. He tries to ignore it. Cyno is still being ill and Tighnari wants to be there for him. While Cyno chokes on a waterfall of thick, chunky vomit, Tighnari ignores the way his skin sparks with hot and cold flashes. Shaky hands rub circles into Cyno’s heaving back and, not for the first time, Tighnari curses his sensitive ears.

They have been helpful to him in many ways throughout the years; lifesaving, even. He wouldn’t trade them, but there are moments when Tighnari wishes he could put his heightened sense of hearing on pause. He doesn’t need to hear with crystal clarity the muffled splatter of liquid against plastic. And then, louder, a wet belch and splashing noises. He tries to take a calming breath, but it only fills his nostrils with a sour, rotting scent of sickness.

“Cyno - urp - are you almost done?” Tighnari’s strength has all but left him. The only response he receives is a whimper. Then Cyno is heaving again, soupy orange stomach contents spraying from his lips.

Tighnari is not normally squeamish. Still, even he has a breaking point on a sick day.

A gut-wrenching belch rumbles through him. Tighnari tries not to jostle the man next to him, but he has little control over his body as he lurches forward to once again be violently sick. Thanks to careful positioning, most of it makes it into the bin. Having to share such a small space has taken its toll, though, because some of the sticky substance splatters onto Cyno’s hands around the trash bin. Tighnari can't even manage an apology. His head pounds and he is wracked with dry heaves, unable to contain his nausea even now that he’s empty while Cyno continues to cough up streams of bile. When at last Cyno is able to get his stomach under control, Tighnari finally pulls back, bringing his arm up to his face to cover his nose from the vile scent filling the room.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice all but torn to shreds. Cyno looks like a wet dog, hair drenched in sweat, eyes round and watery. He nods, but speaks waveringly.

“I– I think I should move to the bathroom.” His arms are trembling around the now nearly-full and quite heavy trash bin. Tighnari eyes it with distaste and resolves to worry about it later with a firm nod. 

He is painfully aware that he’s been sick for three days now with no real sign of improvement. If, as the case seems to be, Cyno has caught his illness, they should indeed go ahead and make themselves as comfortable as possible on the cold stone floors of the cramped hotel bathroom (regardless of how absolutely repulsive the thought of moving is at the moment).

–––

Send asks here!

[fandomxpreferences]

Your Girl?

Pairing: Rooster x female!reader, platonic!Jake x reader (feat Phoenix)

TW: violence, swearing, mentions of blood, a man being absolute worst (whats new)

Summary: Your boyfriend and best friend do not play when it comes to you and an asshole who can't take a hint find out the hard way. (based on this TikTok that @disturbedbeautywrites​ sent me)

Word Count:1.7k

A/N: PLEASE the cocky smile and spitting out blood?? I am mentally ill

You're out with your friends having the time of your life when things take a turn. You and Phoenix have had a bit too much to drink and a man locks onto your stumbling figure. You're just getting back from the restroom and trying to order a drink, waiting patiently for the bartender. You've strayed from the group and the man sees his window of opportunity. 

He slides up behind you and presses into your back while caging you in with both his arms on the bar top. Even drunk, you're well aware of the situation you're in and your body stiffens. You feel his lips press to your ear and shiver. "Why don't we get out of here?" He asks and you press further into the counter trying to put as much distance as possible between the two of you. 

You shake your head adamantly but don't face him. "No thank you." You slur and the man just laughs. "Come on baby, don't be like that." You frown at this and push your body back, taking him by surprise and throwing him off balance. You take the newfound space as your chance to escape and dart around the man to find your friends. Before you can get away, his hand wraps around your wrist and forces you to turn around and slam into him.

Phoenix is laughing and looking over the heads of fellow bar patrons trying to find you. She swore to Bradley and Jake she'd keep an eye on you and she intends to keep her promise. Her eyes skim over the man standing over you, but she doesn't have a good enough view to realize you're the one that he's cornering. 

Her eyes bulge when she sees you try your best to get away only to be jerked back and she grabs her phone. She quickly finds Bradley's contact and dials the number, trying to make her way to you as she waits for him to answer. 

Bradley is hanging out at Jake's house just a few minutes from the bar that you're at. He laughs when his phone rings and Phoenix's grinning face is staring back at him. It's only 10:30 and he always finds it funny that you can't pace your drinking. Jake looks at the phone and laughs with him, shaking his head. 

Bradley answers and presses the phone to his ear. "Already need me to come get her?" He teases and Phoenix ignores his question. "There's some guy that grabbed her and-" she doesn't even finish her sentence before Bradley grabs his keys and rushes out the door. Jake follows immediately, barely getting in the truck before it speeds off. 

The engine revs loudly as Bradley drives well over the speed limit. He puts his phone on speaker and hears the tail end of Phoenix saying "-off of her." Followed by a man's voice telling her to fuck off. 

His foot presses further into the gas pedal and he's certain that if he gets pulled over he'll go to jail for reckless driving. He briefly considers slowing down when he hears your distressed voice in the background telling the man to let you go.

He shares a look with Jake as they listen to the altercation and his heart hammers in his chest. "Don't take your eyes off of her, Phoenix. We're almost there." Jake says, unsure if she can hear him at this point. Bradley's jaw ticks and he clenches his fist as he listens helplessly. 

It only takes a couple more minutes for the two men to pull into the parking lot and the bronco skids to a stop outside the door. Bradley jumps out without bothering to shut his door or turn the truck off. He knows this isn't going to take long, especially with Jake there to help. 

The door to the bar slams open and your boyfriend and best friend stalk in with murder in their eyes. They take a moment to scan the crowd and it doesn't take long for them to find you. 

You're standing with a man's hand gripping your arm so hard that his fingertips are white and Phoenix is trying to pry him off of you. They stomp towards you as the man tries to drag you out of the bar despite your avid attempts to break free.

Phoenix locks eyes with Jake and he feels anger mixed with pain shoot through his chest at the sight of her so panicked. Her eyes are wild and for the first time since he's met her, she looks scared. 

It only takes a few long strides before Bradley is in front of the three of you and ripping the man off of you. He stumbles back and your boyfriend steps in front of you to shield your body with his own. " What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He booms and the stranger scoffs. 

"Chill, bro. I'm just trying to get my girl home." He explains and if Bradley was angry before, he's about to full-blown rage now. Jake grabs your arm and pulls you back to stand with Phoenix when he sees Bradley's eyes narrow and the vein in his neck pop out. Once you're safe, he rejoins Bradley and stands at his side. 

"Your girl, huh?" Bradley gives the asshole a chance to come clean and walk away, but he doubles down. "Yea man. She's drunk and I'm trying to get her out of here safe." Bradley nods in understanding before glancing back at your terror-stricken face. 

"She doesn't look very safe with you, bro." There's venom in his voice and you can tell the man who was harassing you is getting irritated. He tries to cover it up with a smile but it comes out as more of a snarl. "She just doesn't want to leave. You know how girls can be." He reasons and Bradley pulls his phone out. 

"Yea, I do know how my girl can be, asshole. And I know for certain she wouldn't be going home with you." He says calmly as he shows the man his lock screen of the two of you. You see the man's face blanch as he realizes his fuck up and he tries to talk his way out of the grave he dug for himself. 

"Look," he starts. "I don't want any problems." He throws his hands up and for a second it looks like Bradley might consider letting him walk away. He tsks and glances back at you one last time. "Too late." Before the other man can even process, Bradley's fist is connecting with his jaw and he staggers backward.

The man stands there stunned for a second with his hand on his face while staring at Bradley. Your boyfriend gives him an expectant look as his tongue darts out to wet his lips and the man lunges. Jake stays out of it, instead making sure you and Phoenix are out of harm's way and waiting on standby in case it gets out of hand. 

The man lands a solid blow and Bradley spits blood out on the floor before smiling. Before you can blink they're in a fistfight, both trying to establish dominance. The man holds his own better than Bradley anticipated, but he's swinging wildly with no real technique.

Meanwhile, the pilot delivers a couple of carefully placed punches to the mans stomach and ribcage, causing him to double over. This goes on for a few minutes before Bradley gets fed up. He grabs a bottle off the counter and shouts for Jake to get you outside. 

You protest and fight against Jake before he throws you over his shoulder and carries you toward the door with Phoenix following closely. You look up just in time to see Bradley smash the bottle against the man's head. You don't see what happens after that as Jake carries you to the Bronco and plops you down in the seat. 

You're crying and shaking when Bradley walks out with blood running down his face a few seconds later. He jumps in the truck and speeds off without a word, not bothering to wait around for the cops that were most likely called. 

It takes a few minutes to get back to Jake's and when he pulls into the driveway, he walks around to your side and lifts you out of your seat. He carries your trembling body into Jake's house and beelines for the bathroom. Once you're inside he sets you on the counter and shuts the door. 

The second you're alone, you collapse into his strong arms and let out a wail. Bradley holds your head to his chest while the fear and adrenaline surge through your body, and keeps you there until you calm down. 

After a few minutes, your cries turn to hiccups and he pulls back to look you over. His eyes land on the dark bruise in the shape of a hand on your arm and his heart feels like it's been ripped out of his chest. 

He finishes his assessment before meeting your gaze. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He asks and you almost start crying again at the tenderness in his voice. You shake your head and look up at him. "Are you okay? You're bleeding." 

He reaches up to touch his eyebrow and looks at the blood on his hand. "I've had worse." He shrugs and you scoff. "Let me clean you up." You whisper but Bradley's hands keep you planted firmly in place. 

"I'm fine, pretty girl. I'll get cleaned up in a bit. Let's get you home and in bed." He says with a smile and your heart flutters. Despite the fresh blood mixing with the dried crimson stains and the already forming bruises, he's still the most beautiful man you've ever seen. 

You reach your hand up and gently run your fingers along a bruise on his jaw. "I won't be able to sleep until I know you're okay. Please?" You watch his resolve crumble and after a few seconds, he nods. 

You jump down with a slight wobble from the alcohol still coursing through your veins and find a first aid kit under the sink. The next several minutes are spent disinfecting and bandaging the cuts on his eyebrow, cheekbone, and lip. Once you're satisfied, you lean up to kiss him gently.

"Take me to bed or lose me forever." You mumble against his lips and he smiles brightly despite the stinging sensation it causes. "Show me the way home, honey."

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[world-of-aus]

Love & Barbells - Pt. 5

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky (gym crush) x Reader

Warnings: Pinch of angst.

Authors Note: Hoppy Easter little Buns! Here is part 5 of Love & Barbells! I honestly took the energy I had to write and ran with it, I hope you all enjoy this part and for those asking to be added to a taglist for this series I'll start adding those that ask or have asked! Many thanks and Happy Readings! Also All other parts can be found on @worldofausupdates (Any and all mistakes are my own)

Two days had turned into a week, your body finally feeling the fatigue of the strain you were putting it. through six days out of the week. The first day was always odd, your body thrumming with the need to get into its routine, body restless as you forced yourself to stay in bed for the day. And as the first day melted into the second day you found the soreness had begun to creep in, the ache settling heavy in your muscles as you moved around your space. Day three and four were spent like days one and two, in bed beneath your covers with minimal movement, and a mug of coffee in your hand. You knew you needed this time to give your body its rest, to allow yourself to recharge not only physically but mentally. Day six and seven had you preparing for your return, you knew you needed the rest and recovery, but you knew that it could also be a setback in your weight, so you also spent these days doing at home workouts you favorited on YouTube. 

There’s a knock on your door pulling you from the TV screen, your roommate pops her head in, “hey you,” she grins, “you ready to hit the iron tomorrow?” 

You laugh pausing the video a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, “more than ready, I honestly thought two days would be good enough, seems like my body had other ideas.” She steps into your room, “you needed the break, and it was your body’s way of telling you, you’re at it six days out of the week only allowing yourself a day of recovery I think it was about time already, finally caught up to you.” 

Your snort, “you’re not wrong, m’just worried these many days is going to be huge setback on my progress in weight I’ve made.” She gives you a look, “aren’t you always telling me to keep it low weight, but high repped when I can’t do my usual weight?” Your tongue pokes out, “practice what you preach.” she throws back, “going down in weight isn’t the end of the world.” 

You nod your head, “no you’re right,” you laugh when she flips her hair “I’m always right, now how about you go get showered and ill order from that diner two blocks down, get you some heavy protein so you can be charged up for tomorrow? 

“I’d love that, meet you in the living room?” 

“I’ll see you in twenty,” she responds back before taking her exit from your room. As you gather your things for your shower your mind drifts to tomorrow, were you ready to go back and hit the iron, were you ready to go back and see him?” 

Stepping into the gym the next morning, your bag sat high on your shoulder; you knew you were ready to hit the iron, but the way your eyes threatened to scan the area for him told you maybe you weren’t entirely ready to see him, your heart racing at the mere thought of him alone. 

Scanning the gym, you set your eyes on an empty squat rack towards the back and all but ran for the equipment, while it wasn’t too packed just yet you knew if you didn’t claim a rack, you’d never get a set in once the morning grew later. Placing your things down on the floor, you grab your headphones slipping the bud into your ears as they automatically pair to your phone. You’re searching through your apps pressing your preferred music streaming app, finding your go to playlist. Music floods your ears, a breath of air pushing out of your lungs as you shake yourself off pushing to your feet as you go to warm up. 

Your eyes are focused solely on yourself, watching your movements carefully in the mirror as you get yourself stretched out and warmed up before you begin your first reps. Stepping closer to the rack you decide to start your first set of reps with your body weight alone, this was to warm yourself up the movement and wake your muscles up for the heavier sets that were to come. The music pushed you past your warmup count, an ache settling in your legs as you pushed to full height; time to rack. You moved around the rack choosing the lighter weights first, you would build up to your heaviest weight throughout your sets. Slipping the weights onto the bar, you round the rack again to get yourself situated under the iron bar, you test out the weight by pushing up under it, the weight feeling light as you dismount it. 

You take your stance, feet moving, legs opening as you brace yourself, you breathe in, eyes catching your own gaze in the mirror as you go down.  

One. 

Getting yourself to fifteen is easy, barely any strain on your muscle as you rerack the weights moving around to add more. You go up in five, attempting to hit 15 reps every set, until you hit your max weight. The weight before your max has your legs trembling, the strain hitting on the last rep as you find yourself getting stuck just before you went to rerack. Mounting the bar back on you drop into a squat, your breaths heavy as you try to catch it. The music is still pulsing through your buds, your eyes focused and dazed on a spot on the floor as you let yourself come down from the high, heart thumping like a wild drum in your chest. 

You're feeling the music, your body slowly recharging as the bass pumps in your ears, you're moving to push yourself up to add more weight to the bar, but a finger tapping on your back has you stilling. Your head tilts up, stomach dropping into your ass when you meet her eyes. She’s smiling, her lips moving, though you can’t hear here over the music in your ears, you shake your head pulling a bud from your ear, “m’sorry, what was that?” You question not quite believing that this was happening. The redhead chuckles, eyes gleaming, no wonder Bucky’s taken with her you think, she's gorgeous, “was wondering if you would mind me working in, all the other racks are taken.” Your eyes flit around the gym finding the other racks in fact taken, each rack having at least two to three gym bros working their sets in with one another, not one of those racks containing the brunette in mind. 

A part of your mind, the self-deprecating part, is telling you to tell her you wrapped up, the rack is all hers, but the logical part of your mind, the one that outweighs the other tells you to stop being a child, so what if this was your gym crushes girlfriend? There was other fish in the sea! An opportunity was presenting itself to you in the form of a possible new friend, one that you could ask for a spot if the moment ever presented itself, and the way you saw it was you would rather ask her for a spot then the blue-eyed brunette. “Sure,” you say with a smile, “jump on in, do you need me to add more weights?” You question head tilted to the racked bar. There's an expression that comes over her features, one you can’ quite read, she’s shaking her head, “No, that’s actually okay, you planning on going any heavier?” 

You’re nodding, her brows flitting up as she sets herself up under the bar, you see her feel out the weight as she unracks. It’s second nature for you to assume your position behind her, she’s smiling at you through the mirror, you return the sentiment watching as she shifts into a focused mind as she goes down for her first rep. The longer you stand behind her following her movements the longer you allow for the insecurities to build up, she was making this look easy, barely even breaking a sweat as she surpassed your usual rep. You move forward with her when she reracks, stepping back when she slips out tilting her head to it, “your turn.” 

Your nerves are lit as you go to add the weight for your max, she offers her aid by getting the other side for you making your turn come quicker than you’d like. You move back between the rack adjusting yourself under the bar and testing the weight out. It’s heavy, but not enough that it won’t budge when you push up to unmount it. The redhead is a good spot you note as she assumes her position behind you, you wonder if she’s spotted Bucky before? Shaking the thought away you focus on the music still pumping through the headphones, sucking in a breath and bracing your core as you go down for your first rep. 

You’re pushing yourself, breathing in and releasing out through each rep, she’s encouraging you like Bucky would, God they were perfect for one another. The thought is enough to push you despite your legs threatening to break way and bring you down with the added weight. She stumbles forward with you as you rack. You're dropping to the floor, the ache in your legs blinding as you try to catch your breath, she drops with you, her gaze finding yours, “Bucky mentioned to me how well disciplined you were, and I gotta admit, you surprised me.” 

Your heart jumps to your throat at the mention of the brunette, he talked about you to her? Is that why she was here, to tell you to stay away from what was hers? “You ever think about competing?” 

A record scratches somewhere in the back of your mind. 

“Competing,” you question. That’s not what you were expecting.  

She’s nodding as she stands hand held out to you, you grab it letting her pull you up, “yeah, we have a team here that competes in powerlifting, we go to competitions held at other gyms, unfortunately one of our members is out for the season, and I think you’d be the perfect fit – if you’re interested.” 

You don’t know what to say, the words caught on your tongue as you watch her take her spot under the bar, you go up behind her. “You don’t have to have an answer right away, the season hasn’t begun just yet, but from what I'm seeing right now, and from what Buck has told me about you – well I would consider, I think you’d bring a lot to the table.” 

You’re nodding your head, licking your lips, you couldn’t help but to wonder what Bucky had told her. Your focus gets shifted from the conversation to the exercise at hand when you see her brace herself. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but her failing the first rep was not it. You didn’t think it was possible with how effortlessly she made her first set look but she’s getting caught less than midway on her way back up. You want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but when her face goes red, her lips pushing out your name along with the world help you’re stepping right up into her space to help her. 

“Oh god no,” she groans as she still struggles to get her legs up, your pressed to her back your hands coming up to the bar as you try to alleviate the pressure of the bar off her back. The two of you fall into a struggle, when had you gotten so far from the mount? Just when you’re about to tell her to just let it drop a body is pressing to your back, large hands falling close into yours, you don’t have to turn to know who’s they are, you’ve watched them lift weights for months now. Steve and Sam come up just as quickly as he did each flanking a side to grab the bar where the weights sit, they’re telling the redhead who you discover is named Natasha to drop down, you wonder if you should drop as well, but then you’re being pressed forward with them to place the bar back on the mount. 

For a beat nobody moves, all eyes falling to redhead that sits on the floor struggling to catch are a breath, “are you okay?” You’re the first to break the silence, her eyes flit to yours, then to the man behind you, you wonder what she must be thinking because neither you or Bucky have moved since mounting the weight and while you’ve considered moving, he cages you in. “Just fine,” she breathes through a strained laugh, “is that your max?” she questions pointing to the weights. “Yeah, the plan was to go up another five this week, but I took a week break, so I wasn’t going to risk failing by ego lifting.” 

Her laugh is genuine this time, Steve leaning over the rack to help her up, she’s looking at Bucky who still is behind you, more relaxed you imagine with how he leans on the bar – still caging you in! “I really do like her Barnes, think she’d make a perfect replacement for Maximoff for the season, you should ask her to join, maybe we can make her a full-time member.” 

Sam snorts off to the side drawing your gaze, and apparently Bucky’s, “m’right here wilson, you got something to say?” Sam meets both your eyes, “no but do you got something you want to ask y/n here, unless you want Tasha to do that too.” 

Your brows furrow, confusion only growing, “wait - hold on I'm a little confused here, what’s going on, what does Bucky want Natasha to do?” 

Before Bucky can even tell Sam to shut his mouth the words are already spilling from his lips, “Barnes here has been to chicken to ask you to compete with us, he was going to ask you last week that you were here since he was able to give Natasha a preview of you -” “but you were with your friend so he didn’t want to intrude, and I didn’t want to make you nervous by coming up to you,” Natasha adds. “Then he didn’t see you for the rest of the week, so he figured it was a sign to hold off on asking,” Sam continues, “a stupid sign if you ask me, man needs to learn how to read the room.” “That he does, and I told him as much last week,” Natasha says an amused glint in her eyes when you meet her gaze. 

“Literally right here,” Bucky says from behind you, and this time you turn your head to meet his gaze, “sorry about them,” he murmurs. You’re breathing out a laugh, “it’s okay, Steve told me to be ready,” you tease recalling the bearded blondes words from the last time you had worked in with them “I wouldn’t have minded you asking,” you continue, “I would have considered.” 

“You would have?” 

You’re nodding your head, wanting to break his gaze to look elsewhere but he has you locked. “As long as I wouldn’t be breaking any pairs up, and your friend Maximoff wouldn’t mind me stepping in I don’t see why I couldn’t consider, as long as you guys are sure you want me.” This time you do break his gaze to look at the others. Natasha is the one who answers, “If my partner could see how you trained, she wouldn’t mind at all.”  

“At least with y/n as your partner we won’t have to be yelling across the gym for the two of you to stop locking lips.” 

Another record scratches in your mind, as you take Sam’s words in, but you don’t let it show, choosing to laugh it off instead, hoping it doesn’t sound forced. “So y/n,” Natasha directs, “what do you say?” 

“Sure, I’m in.” 

Your roommate is home before you that afternoon, her form perched on the couch as she watches the latest episode of her favorite show. She turns her head when she hears you come in smile on her face, “Hey you, your home late, good gym session?” You laugh as you drop your bag down, locking the door behind you as you deposit your keys into the glass bowl. “Yeah sorry about that, I got a little caught up with Natasha.” 

You capture your roommates attention, her body jerking in your direction, “Natasha as in – no!” You nod your head as you round the couch plopping down, “You talked to Bucky’s girl, what the hell y/n what happened?” 

“Yes and I did, and no she’s not Bucky’s girl,” you reiterate chuckling at your roommate's reaction at the mention of the redhead not being Bucky’s girl “but rather a part of his competition group, that I have seemingly agreed to join.” 

“y/n,” she squeals jumping across the couch to you, “you joined a competition group?! But how, why, is Natasha really not with Bucky, so you have a chance again!” You laugh moving away from the hand that excitedly swats at you, “I wouldn’t say there’s a chance for me again, but there is a chance for me to compete again.” Your roommate seems to understand what this means for you, her excitement calming as she finds your hands, “that’s wonderful y/n,” she murmurs squeezing your fingers, “and hey remember this isn’t that gym, and they’re not brock.” 

You nod looking down at your entwined hands, “I know they’re not, but what if I see them again, what if I see him?” She’s shaking her head fiercly, “If that time comes, we will face it, but right now you don’t need to worry about that, right now I need you to focus and tell me more about how Natasha is not with Bucky and how we still have a chance!” 

She’s pulling another laugh from you, her hands untangling from yours to pull you to her side, the two of you melting into the couch as you recall your morning return to the gym. 

[littleguyconnor]

I’ve started over on this painting like 4 times already and I want to take a a break. I am going to do a character study of Medic because he’s the one I feel people get the most wrong. (I’ll try and be as factual as possible but my own interpretation of him will be in there too, it’s inevitable, yadda yadda)

Let’s start with his hunting his old team with the classic mercs, since that’s when we’re first reunited with him.

It was not done out of betrayal.

I want to reference a piece of dialogue that I think showcases his entire mindset about it very well. When Classic Heavy asks if hunting down his old team will be a problem, Medic replies by saying “A chance to test my latest triumphs against my earliest experiments? No, that won’t be a problem at all.”

Look at the phrasing of that. There isn’t a single hint of malice or ill intent in it. His earliest experiments. His teammates that he’s spent years building up, improving, trying everything he knows and doesn’t to make them the best mercenaries he can. Against his latest triumphs. He wants to see how far he can take his practice, if all his work can hold up against something he knows is strong. It’s like how engineering students stand on their bridges to make sure it holds. Sure, it might break, but now they, Medic in this case, know what to improve on. Is it a very literal and playing-with-life kind of method? Yes. But that’s all it is. There isn’t any underlying reasoning, he thinks very literally and does things the same way. We also know this is true because he says it himself when Sniper confronts him about it, explaining that he was genuinely happy to see them and that his facial expression just came across differently to Sniper. Now, another thing I want to talk about on this topic is why he joined the Classic team in the first place. In the same panel I referred to last time there’s a very specific phrasing CHeavy uses that I want to highlight.

“I swear to god, if you put a single uterus in my men…”

Medic was never considered part of the team, and he knows this. He actually uses this to advantage. He’s an impermanent addition, and thus inconsequential. He’s using them as guinea pigs and that is what’s done out of malice. He’s being mistreated and obviously not considered anything of worth, so he’s going to retaliate in a very Medic fashion. This man is not a pushover, and of everything, I want to get that across the most.

Medic is extremely strong, both physically and mentally. He’s able to hold out for a considerable amount of time against CHeavy throwing him around. The thing that ends up killing him is a cheap shot from a gun. He’s also witty enough to outsmart Satan himself. (I don’t think there’s really anything else to say on that one.) This man is so intelligent and knows when people are using him from the second they start, and he plays along with it. He doesn’t even necessarily act dumb either. It’s just that he’s so eccentric and personable that people mistake him as someone easily to manipulate and end up getting ripped apart from the inside.

Branching off from this point: Medic is a genuinely kind person. He’s just weird. And I mean that in the most professional way possible. His intentions are good and done out of a passion for medicine, curiosity, and respect for his team. There’s a reason he spends so much time improving them. Part of it is just the morbid curiosity and the satisfaction that comes from fulfilling that, but it’s also because he wants his team to win. He wants them to be the best versions of themselves, literally. His odd and eccentric demeanor just makes his actions come out a little morbid and frightening. But he loves people. And he cares. Above all, remember, he’s a doctor. And it’s a doctor’s job to help people.

Now onto his relationship with Heavy. What I’m going to be talking about with this leans a little more on the head canon side, but I don’t think it’s too far off from what could actually be canon.

Whether they’re friends, lovers or something else isn’t relevant. Regardless of what they are, they have an incredibly strong bond built on solid foundations. Respect is the main one.

Medic’s teammates seem to have a strange disregard for him. It’s the same treatment they give Pyro, although there’s less infantilization and more flippant-ness. I don’t think it’s done out of meanness, more just so that he’s outwardly really freakish and open about experimenting on them with dubious ethics. They care about him, he’s a vital part of the team, it’s just.. less enthusiastic. But with Heavy, that dynamic changes completely. Heavy respects him so much, and likes him genuinely enough to see past the thing everyone else gets hung up on. And it’s because Medic is the only one he’s met that is capable of outsmarting bullets. Heavy respects Medics genuine intelligence and skill, and because Heavy is extremely smart too, they get along really well. And Medic cares so much for Heavy. I think that as a child, he grew up very estranged and “othered” for his interests and awkward social skills. There haven’t been many people in his life who are willing to get close to him, or really, let him get close to them. And there’s a kind of refuge he takes in Heavy for that. A mutual understanding and care for each other.

And yes, Medic is an awkward person! Just not in the sense that people typically are, and I think that is such an important part of his character. He isn’t good at expressing empathy in a socially acceptable way as I’ve discussed previously, is overly literal, blunt, and genuinely a little oblivious sometimes to the tone of the conversation or of his own words. And instead of trying to resolve that, he’s just stopped caring about it all together because he knows he can be himself. It’s why his job with the Classic Mercs failed. They wanted him to be something he’s not, and Medic wasn’t going to tolerate that kind of treatment!

[velvette3]

ATTATION PLEASE!!!

To all the utter fucking ASSHOLES, who think bullying is okay, fine, funny, etc:

What the FUCK are you thinking?!

Y’all seriously think that bullying people just because their brains are different, is okay? FUCK NO!

You think it’s FUNNY, that sometimes people act different than what is considered ‘normal’? The hell is wrong with you! Don’t you get it?

“more than 75,000,000 people, according to researched conducted by the CDC. 1 in every 100 children are diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder.”

SO WHAT THE FUCK.

“Approximately 6.8% (366.3 million) adults worldwide have symptomatic ADHD”

AND THATS JUST ADULTS DAMNIT^

“The World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that globally 1 out of every 4 people will be impacted by mental illness at some point in their lives.”

ONE IN FOUR FUCKING PEOPLE

This shit needs to stop.

You bully others, because they think different?

Because they act, or maybe look different?

It’s hard enough for them to live in a world, where other people that aren’t like them, don’t, can’t, or choose not to understand how they feel, and who they are.

Some of these people, have shit households.

Some of them, may not have a home at all.

Some may not be able to find help or medication for it.

Some of them go ignored.

Un-diagnosed.

Left to rot.

Made fun of.

Pushed around.

Hit, around.

Hate crimes, even.

Don’t believe me?

“Disability hate crime is a form of hate crime involving the use of violence against people with disabilities. This is not only violence in a physical sense, but also includes other hostile acts, such as the repeated blocking of disabled access[1] and verbal abuse.[1] These hate crimes are associated with prejudice against a disability, or a denial of equal rights for disabled people (as this is a form of prejudice). It is viewed politically as an extreme form of ableism, or disablism.[2] This phenomenon can take many forms, from verbal abuse and intimidatory behaviour to vandalism, assault, or even murder. Although data are limited[3] studies appear to show that verbal abuse and harassment are the most common.[4] Disability hate crimes may take the form of one-off incidents, or may represent systematic abuse which continues over periods of weeks, months, or even years. Disabled parking places, wheelchair access areas and other facilities are frequently a locus for disability hate. Instead of seeing access areas as essential for equity, they are seen instead as 'special treatment', unjustifiable by status, and so a 'reason' for acting aggressively.[5] Denial of access thus demonstrates a prejudice against equal rights for disabled people; such actions risk actual bodily harm as well as limiting personal freedom.”

^it may be a long read. But damnit.

People suffer already, and this isn’t scraping the TOP of my anger towards it, the in-humanity of it all.

But then again, with how common this absolute SHIT is, who says ‘humanity’ even exists? No one lives up to it anymore! This is just a part of it!

I’m sick and tired of seeing the common mold others put these people through, and it’s not even acceptable.

Not something anyone should ignore.

[catgirlforeskin]

I always find games that try to simulate people or society very interesting because, though all games reflect the beliefs of their creators to some degree, the only thing these simulators are is a reflection of someone or a team’s ideas about how people and the world work.

In Call of Duty, there’s still the obvious thumbprint of ideology, there’s the reason you always play as NATO forces and never against, but the main thing the game wants to simulate is guns, how they look and sound and feel, and that’s fairly cut-and-dry. But when your core simulation is an economy, or city infrastructure, or interpersonal relationships, you don’t get that.

The game I’m most interested in with this is Rimworld, in large part because it’s mostly a one-person project, and it’s on a more intimate level than something like Cities: Skyline. It also has an expansion called “Ideology” where every faction now has an intricate belief system (where you can also customize your own) where it’s fairly obvious that the creator has, at best, weird ideas about how governance and gender and sexuality and bigotry work.

And while there’s been writing on that already, what I really want to talk about is how this reflection doesn’t go one way, because the game has a huge modding scene that’s extremely accessible, and while many mods are quality of life features or just silly additions, a lot are active disagreements with the way the game constructs people and society, whether it’s overhauling how mental illness is coded, or how relationships form, or trying to add the ability to be trans and non-binary

And then these mods are often in conversation with each other, either building off of each other or outright competing, because even the most well-meaning additions still have to contend with the fact that translating the human experience into code is never going to go perfectly.

For example, I don’t use the biggest mod that adds trans people to the game, even though I obviously want us there, because the way it systemizes dysphoria and what transition means is in total conflict with my experiences.

A lot of the mods that add/change mental illness or disorders end up very imperfect, but there’s one mod’s version of autism that I love because, in addition to the basic stuff like “this character gets stressed by large groups or people trying to talk to her too often,” it also makes it so the character just straight up follow orders you give her, and she’ll get mad that you had the audacity to try disrupting her routine. She might do it later when she finishes her other tasks, or she might just never do it. I based a character on my wife and her little person hates the feeling of a rifle slung over her shoulder and will only pick up her gun when she absolutely needs it. She also won’t wear her proper helmet and instead wears a shittier one because she likes how it looks more.

And sure, the mod isn’t perfect, no effort to take the complexity of a person and simplify it into code can be, but to everyone who has ever had a game try to define you out of existence and fought back, I love you. Whether it’s the trans woman who dubbed over all of Jedi: Fallen Order because EA didn’t care enough to put women in, or my friend that I spent hours with figuring out how to replace all our soldiers in some indie rts game with women, or the countless modders for the Sims and Rimworld and every other game that simulates people who tried to make people who felt truer to themselves and those they loved, and everyone inbetween, I love you. I love you, and I’m glad I’m not alone in that fight

[fizziepopangel]

A Fizziepop Take: Let's talk about the (soon to be) ex-wife from hell

I’m not sure about everyone, but I personally have always loved villains and morally gray characters. Maybe it’s because I grew up in a lot of fucked up situations where no one was every really the “good guy”, not even the people I loved and trusted…. So I learned early on that bad guys aren’t always bad and even when they are, being bad isn’t always as bad as it seemed to be made out by everything on tv and in books. Having this way of thinking from a young age, it’s no surprise that some of my favorite characters in books and movies tend to be the villains. Now, as much as I love Stolas (and want his relationship with Blitz to work), I’ve kinda into Stella on this ‘I want my husband dead’ trip, and after watching “Western Energy” a few times, I think I figured out why and I can’t be the only one who feels like this, so let’s get into it!.

If you know how most villains are written and portrayed, a lot of them have some sort of reason for doing whatever fucked up thing they're doing. Sometimes the excuse is a tragic backstory, or an unrequited love, or a fear that they just don’t seem to deal with very well, or to gain power over another being/beings or even keep power they already have, in some cases mental illness is even villainized in the media (which sucks since it’s not always portrayed in a realistic manner when it’s used as a reason for someone being "villainous" and ends up stigmatizing an entire group of people who suffer from the illness in ways that aren’t dramatized for the entertainment of the masses.).... But all of these reasons tend to be on the list of the reasons the villain, and the audience, try to justify whatever messed up shit they’re doing…. But here’s the thing, sometimes a person doesn’t have a reason to be an absolute fucked up beyond repair, horrible person, they just like being that way. That’s what we see with Stella.

See, Stella doesn’t have a horrible tragic past to blame her cruelty on. Stolas never abused her, if anything he did his best to try to make their marriage work despite the abuse she put him through for what seems to be the entirety of their relationship. And it seems she’s never even had to smell poverty or what fear would smell like when it’s her own. As of right now, there is no reason for her cruelty that we can see except for pure enjoyment, with her even at one point telling Stolas "I like tormenting you!" when asked why she's still in his house despite having moved out pretty much completely at that point. She enjoys making Stolas’ life miserable and she hates the man enough that she tells her brother that she’d laugh when he dies and even has to be convinced to keep him alive to figure out how to get money from him since she’d likely get nothing when he dies. The woman has no regard for anyone’s life but hers unless she’s making someone else feel beyond miserable.... And, as much as I love Stolas, I love the cruelty Stella processes and how she seems to aim it all toward him, especially because she doesn’t in anyway try to hide the fact that she’s an evil bitch and she doesn't even try to. Whether she’s telling her husband that she likes making him miserable or badmouthing him to friends and family with him standing a few feet away, or even giddily admitting to her brother that she’s hired the assassin that kidnapped and off her husband, the woman has zero shame and as easy as it is to dislike her for actively hurting a fan favorite character, the sheer size of Stella’s metaphorical balls makes me love her. Despite being a ditzy, bitchy ex-wife and a bad mother from what most of us believe, and her literally torturing one of my favorite characters for sheer pleasure, Stella has earned a spot as one of my favorite villains, and moved up in the ranking of my favorite Helluva Boss antagonists. 

The woman is a horrible, cold hearted, monster on the levels she’s been placed on within the show and it's literally shown that it's been that way since she was a child…. And I think that’s what makes her such a good character despite her being written very flatly otherwise. Viv made Stella a character that’s so easy to love to hate, which is something I believe every show needs. I think that’s awesome considering so many people still think that a villain needs to be made; forged in tragedy, warped by trauma, and bathed in fear and heartbreak when in reality, cruelty isn’t always something people are gifted through bad experiences. As much as we hate to admit it, some people just enjoy the way cruelty tastes and hate the way happiness looks on someone who isn’t them. Stella is a wonderful example of a villain who chose to be the way they are just because they find amusement in it. Nothing else. And call me crazy, but I love that for her and I want to see more scenes like in “Western Energy” where you can see that she knows what she’s doing isn’t just cruel, but villainous and she enjoys it. But like every post I make ranting and over analyzing the fictional world of imps and hellhounds and all of this, this is just a Fizzie take on things I probably spend too much time thinking about. But let me know what you think about Stella, and villains in general. It’s always a topic I’m down to see different perspectives and opinions on.

[saints-who-never-existed]

Episode Ten: Random Rewatch Observations

Here we go. I’ve honestly held back so long from doing this one, in part because I never want to series to end, but also I had to gear myself up emotionally for the trauma...

1. God is it any wonder Little looks so miserable when you see the vast expanse of grey nothing he’s staring out at? There’s no real hope left but no real choice but to keep going.

2. Also strikes me that wee George Chambers is the last Boy standing, isn’t he? Young and Evans are dead, Golding’s gone to the dark side.

3. It’s so cruel of them, Le Vesconte especially, to let Little go on his inspirational rant before they drop the truth bomb about the vote but it’s also clear to see why it’s done that way. If they’d discussed it privately beforehand then each could’ve argued their case, and Little might more easily have been able to refuse (for all the difference it would make in the end). But telling him about it right out in public, in amongst all the men, is very deliberate and completely forces his hand. Just godawful!

I also have to wonder if it’s that old problem of them sticking so rigidly to rules and procedure again, even unconsciously. He’s the highest-ranking officer now, perhaps it’s protocol to wait until he speaks first?

4. Note that he says “two able-bodied lieutenants” here. Like, it would be one heart-breaking thing if deep down they resented Jopson his new position, didn’t see him as equal, but they do! They clearly see him as one of them and that’s worse because they leave him behind anyway!

5. God they’re all so deliberate in the way they talk about things as well, like they’ve been rehearsing it and justifying it to themselves over and over again. The ill won’t be ‘left behind’, they’ll just ‘stay’.

6. Might just be me but I believe the pitch of the title theme has been lowered significantly in this episode – a sign of their sharp, terrible descent? I’ll need to go back through the other episodes at some point and note if it’s altered at any other point, but I don’t think it is.

7. Oh Goodsir, baby girl! He’s so shaky and sore and unsteady on his feet and clouded in his mind already here, it’s gut-wrenching.

8. Also interesting to note what he remembers about David Young, even if he can’t remember his name – “he was afraid, he wanted us to run”. Young’s death was awful and memorable enough on its own, but it’s got to be extra-traumatic as a doctor, I think – to see someone so afraid and know that even with all your knowledge and skill, you can’t do anything about it.

9. The piles of cans left outside the tent are just a complete slap in the face, they really are - serving only to comfort those leaving, not those ‘staying’ behind who, with the exception of Jopson, are completely unable to leave the tents to get to them anyway.

10. Something about Goodsir dying with no shoes and just his little woolly socks on is so personal and horrendous to me.

11. I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they had a better on-screen death for Tozer but ran out of time/money to film it and that’s a tragedy to me. Like, even if it was just him going down swinging and getting a good shot in as he goes (as the off-screen sound-effects imply here) then I’d love to have seen it. Tozer and Hodgson in particular are both worthy of redemption in my book.

Does anyone know more specifically what they’d planned for Tozer’s death?

12. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – “Close…” takes EFFORT. I have to imagine that a person literally seconds from death would be hard pushed to speak at all or make any sound beyond vague groans of pain, but he doesn’t just do that. He puts physical and mental effort into croaking that one last and very specific word and the fact is that we’ll never truly know why!

13. Another thing we’ll never know is why he’s separate from the others too. It echoes Hodgson’s isolation actually, now that I think about it – just as with the chains, we don’t know if it’s something he did to himself or something that was done to him by the others, and we’ll never know.

14. Also! Crozier would it kill you to touch the man! That hand holding back by mere millimetres from brushing through his hair will haunt me the rest of my days. Here’s a man who throughout the entire story has been well-established as showing comfort, affection, and solidarity through physical touch and he doesn’t truly get it in return even in his final moments! (I know Crozier touches his shoulder etc. but it’s just not the same to me and I’m still distraught!).  

[acourtofthought]

This post is going to be an extremely pissed off post so be forewarned.

Do not come onto MY BLOG, either as an Anon or yourself, trying to start something, then accuse ME of being immature as a response.  

If someone suffers from delusions because of a mental illness, you can’t use logic to reason with them, it’s not something they can rationalize (and NO, I am not claiming anyone in this fandom as delusional, I’m making a point with this).  

In that vein, you can’t use maturity to respond to someone who is coming at you with a lack of it.  There is literally no point in my taking the high road because that’s not going to work with someone who is on a mission to tear you and your ship down.  

I will match the energy you are coming at me with and I’m old enough to recognize feigned innocence and politeness with what is a secret E/riel agenda. 

I’m sure some would love to throw in my face that I’m too old to be in the fandom at all but honestly, who cares if I’m an 80 year old Grandma who is into these books?  More power to me and I’d be the coolest Grandma around.  But what my age has taught me is that some people are already coming at you to argue or to serve their own hidden purpose (or not so hidden).  There will be no reasoning with them and I’m not about to sit here and act like a fool who thinks you care at all about helping me from the goodness of your heart.  

I realize that you’re not actually looking to have a true debate with me and are simply looking to override my ideas with your own.  I realize you are looking to shut my voice down with your pleas to “please consider that you have a responsibility to say certain things and only post things that we don’t feel are harmful (to E/riel)", that “your words are creating problems within the fandom.”

MY WORDS are creating problems?!  I have been in this fandom for a 14 - 15 months at most and the tone of the fandom existed long before me and a good percentage of that toxicity comes from E/riels.  

You think I can’t visit any major E/riel blog and find posts they share with their followers that harass Eluciens and Gwynriels, belittling and calling names? You think I can’t find E/riels who make extremely harmful posts to Gwyn, Lucien, etc?  That I haven’t seen E/riels on Twitter or Instagram threatening and bullying the author or others who ship someone outside of E/riel?

Do Gwynriels and Eluciens do these things too?  I’m sure they do.  But just like most E/riels don’t sit on their blog talking about how certain E/riels are toxic, I don’t have to sit on my blog and talk about the Gwynriels and Eluciens that are toxic.  My focus is on Elucien and Anti E/riel (as a ship, because defense and offense are both important) as well as following other Gwnriel and Elucien bloggers who aren’t the ones harassing and bullying and I’m pretty sure I’m allowed to post about what I want and I’m allowed not to focus on the things I don’t want to focus on.  I’m not getting paid for this, there was no rulebook someone handed me when I first started this page and that means, I make the rules.     

Do E/riels not create posts about why Elucien wouldn’t make sense together?

Then stop coming to my page and trying to make me feel guilty for creating posts for why E/riel wouldn’t make sense together. 

Stop coming to my page and acting like I’m not simply putting out exactly what E/riels have been putting out in terms of their own ship.

I’ve noticed this trend where some E/riels say and do whatever they want across the fandom and the second an Elucien or Gwynriel fights back with their own content, the second they don't focus only on their ship and also include Anti E/riel content, E/riels try to bully them into submission.  Where they think they can force Elucien and Gwynriels into changing their blog, force them not to talk about why E/riel isn’t happening, try to guilt them by claiming they have "negative energy" (as if that isn't 80% of their own MO).  And maybe that works for certain bloggers because I’ve had a few who messaged me who said they feel they had to go into hiding because of that harassment.  But I am not going to feel bad about the things I post.  All those sorts of anons and messages do is reinforce the fact that some E/riels can’t stand it when Eluciens and Gwynriels yell just as loud as they do and gain traction with their theories.  

[twilightmalachite]

2×2 - Grown-Up Situation 8

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Hinata, Shinobu, Nagisa

Translator: Mika Enstars

"You’re not a very physically strong person, Shinobu-kun, so don’t push yourself too hard, okay?"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Downtown

Hinata: —Oh, looks like our producers have arrived on set too!

Yuuta: Good morniii~ng, Anzu-san! Good luck today!

Shinobu: I’d be grateful for your help this time around, or rather, this time too, de gozaru…♪

Hinata: For the record, while the producer changes every time for 2×2, both YamadaP and AnzuP will be on site.

Nagisa: …Hm. It is an effective way to observe your opponent’s work up close, and perhaps also a means to monitor them to ensure there’s no cheating.

…That’s fair.

Yuuta: That’s true, but… Both producers have a lot of other work to do, so it must be quite a burden to show up on site for every 2×2.

Shinobu: Yeah… Anzu-dono had a bit of a cough last time we recorded, so I’m rather worried about her health, de gozaru.

Hinata: Doesn’t she always push herself too hard?

Huh? Actually, Anzu-san doesn’t seem to be feeling well, so she took a sick day off to be cautious…?

W-Will things be okay?

Hinata: Ah, I’m not worried about Anzu-san, but about the program… It’s mostly her own fault she’s not feeling well.

Shinobu: We didn’t say anything…

Yuuta: When you put it like that, it sounds like you instead actually don’t care about her at all, Aniki. ♪

Hinata: Uu, but that’s not what I meant. The producer in charge of the fifth episode of 2×2 is Anzu-san, isn’t she?

What do we do? If she can’t come on-site, how will she give us directions?

Nagisa: …It appears she will be giving direction through HoldHands for the time being.

…YamadaP has come on-site, although he is not in charge this time,s o I do not think he can be too intrusive.

Shinobu: If YamadaP ended up producing AnzuP’s episode, it wouldn’t make any sense, de gozaru.

That would make the match, or the producer showdown, nonviable.

Hinata: It’s not something she should do to the point of destroying her body. I feel it’s fine to end this with Anzu-san’s loss now that she’s called in sick.

Managing the health of your idols and yourself is part of the job.

By falling ill, Anzu-san’s already considered inferior to YamadaP as a producer.

Yuuta: We’ve never had to miss work due to falling ill! We are healthy children! ☆

Hinata: But it’s caused for some mental unwellness because of that…

Yuuta: Moving on. This 12 episode program is already in the middle of it’s run with the fifth episode, and it seems to be getting a lot of viewership ratings thanks to the two producers competing.

It might not be feasible to cancel it at this point. At least, to the company or agency, in other words ES.

Hinata: Grown-up stuff is tough.

Nagisa: …I agree. Anzu-san’s name will be credited as this episode’s producer, and it appears that the match will continue whilst keeping her health condition under wraps.

…We should probably try to avoid mentioning it as much as possible.

Shinobu: During filming, at least, de gozaru. Hmm, I am worried about Anzu-dono though…

Yuuta: We just have to do our job. I’m sure doing that much would let Anzu-san at least rest easy.

Hinata: That’s right. …So, what kind of thing are we doing for our “experience” this time?

Nagisa: …I believe we’ve all received instruction from Anzu-san through HoldHands.

…What we’re doing for our “experience” this time is, umm, “experiencing life on the streets”?

Shinobu: Whoa, sounds like another harsh one!

Hinata: You’re not a very physically strong person, Shinobu-kun, so don’t push yourself too hard, okay?

Yuuta: That’s my line, Aniki.

Hinata: The current Yuuta-kun isn’t considerate enough, so I’m saying it for you!

Shinobu: I-I don’t want the siblings to quarrel, de gozaru~? Let’s get along, get along…♪

Nagisa: …Fufu, it is somehow unnerving for various reasons.

…In short, it appears we will be living on the streets for about a week, five days to be exact.

Yuuta: So like a homele… I have a feeling I shouldn’t use that word. Umm, so like an unemployed person with no fixed address?

Nagisa: …That’s right. Like we’ve been thrown out onto the street in only our clothes and have to survive for five days.

Yuuta: So we’ll be surviving in the concrete jungle!

Hinata: Whaaat, this will be easy, then!

Shinobu: Wha, wha? I’m here thinking this will be the hardest so far, de gozaru!?

Even harder than the third episode where we lived in extreme poverty, living on only 500 yen a day!

We at least had an apartment to live in with furniture and a bed, de gozaru!

We won’t even have that this time, de gozaru! It’s like a hard-mode was given to living in extreme poverty due to popular demand?

Nagisa: …Is the producer in charge this time around, Anzu-san, a demon?

Yuuta: She can be brutal at times, but I think she’s rather gentle with this.

Hinata: Yup. We can use the experience of how to save money during the program’s third episode of living in extreme poverty, though not Ran-senpai.

Yuuta: Yup. We have experience.

Shinobu: Oh, right. Yuuta-kun and Hinata-kun—

Yuuta: Yeah. When we were kids, we ran away from home and lived on the streets for some time. We earned money through things like street performances.

That experience can be put to good use. If anything, isn’t that why Anzu-san chose this to be our experience this time?

Hinata: Yup. This won’t be a first for us, so she hoped it’d be no sweat for us—No she trusted us that it would be.

Anzu-san, who knows us very well, has prepared something that I believe is a perfect fit for us.

Though I do feel bad for Shinobu-kun who will have to tag along.

Shinobu: … …

[ ☆ ]

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[pumpkzsafeplace]

| serious topic (cw: physical violence, anxiety, dissociation)

- Just letting you know that my bf uses It/They/He prns for easier reading

I got a text from my cg saying the they were assaulted by its ex boss today when it went to get the money he’s owed them for two weeks now. He went up to him and asked for it and the guy grabbed them by the neck. My bf ended up shoving him off and screaming for help. His mom came outside and asked what happened, the boss came over and said he didn’t do anything and then also asked how old my bf is (he’s a minor so it would be a bigger charge). Bfs older brother came out with a bat (didn’t do anything tho) and cops got called. My boyfriend was told to finish the task they were doing before it went to its bosses house and his phone ended up dying.

I got the text while at work and immediately told my boss I was going to have a panic attack, she sent me outside to call him and I was told the whole situation. We decided to let them finish the the task before I came over to debrief everything but of course after their phone died and it sent me into a really bad spiral bc at that point it had been two hours since we talked and when I called to make sure everything was ok the call went straight to voicemail. I have severe anxiety over things like this bc of my anxious attachment style and this really just threw me over the edge. I had to take an extra server pad to write down all my thoughts to not have another breakdown. Eventually they texted back and said I could come over. Immediately had a panic attack when it got in my car bc of all the pent up feelings and they also cried a bunch due to the situation and also how their family reacted to it.

Their mom is refusing them therapy bc of other issues it has and decided to bring it up again tonight and instead suggested just venting to me as help even though they constantly claim that I make them more depressed and “irrational” and hate me being with them. It’s just been a rollercoaster of a night and I was hoping you could maybe give some advice or reassurance to both of us bc honestly we both seek comfort in your content and I think we both need it tonight

Sorry for the long rant and I hope this isn’t too much with everything going on in your life right now, I’m very sorry for what happened at the doctors and I hope you can find someone else that can take you seriously and respects you as much as we do (I have a similar situation with a boss at work that believes my mental illnesses are fake and me being asexual isn’t true bc I’m a teenager and apparently don’t know how things work). I understand how hard things are to get over when someone invalidates you but I hope you know we all love and care for you and hope you get the assistance you deserve <3 If this is too much to reply to in just a day please feel free to take as much time as necessary. Right now both me and my partner are ok enough with the situation to wait a bit, just wanting some extra support if at all possible

I hope your days are abundant and you always feel the love you deserve <3

- 🌷

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

hihi lil bug’ 🌼

i'm so so so sorry to hear what the both of you went through :<

neither of you should have been put in that situation- and i'm sorry that everyone else sorta pilled it all on the both of you.

first, your boyfriend? are they alright? i couldn't imagine the ray of different emotions running through their mind at the time. i'm so proud of them for being brave- especially in such a scary scenario. i know their mum is refusing therapy, but i really think it'll be a good step. i know you want to help them- but sometimes opening up and loading all of your feelings onto someone already going through something of their own can be incredibly tough & difficult.

especially with what happened that night- i think it's best for them to speak to someone else. i do hope they feel a little better though & super duper big hugs for them <3.

and you, i hope your anxiety didn't take it out on your body too much- i know how bad anxiety & panic attacks can get <3. you also went through a lot that day & i'm super duper proud of you for doing your best to stay strong at work- i know how hard that it to so, espeically when you're so overwlemed by everything. the notepad technique was quick thinking! so i'm very proud at you for that! <3

i'm here for the pair of you & i hope you both feel a bit better soon <3. i'm always a message away & we all wish you both a speedy mental recovery <3.

big big big big hugs! <3

-🍰

[numbaoneflaya]

Caz infodump, cw p much everything.

She Changes the way she behaves around people in order to make them like her the most/ hard to put down a “real” her. Fawn type personality through years of having to survive by being as charming and nice as possible as to not be targeted. People pleaser not through any need to actually be liked, but as a survival mechanism because she’s spent a large portion of her life in situations where she had absolutely zero power and had to rely on people on top of a power structure to find her absolutely perfect. Always gotta be nice/funny/demure/smart/not too smart/ dull/entertaining/boring/easy going/accepting/everything all at once but nothing too much. Able to alter her behavior and persona at the blink of a hat as to come across best to anyone who meets her. I think this is why it’s so hard for me to write for her- it’s finding the base her, and being able to look past all her different aspects of performance to see the man behind the curtain.

At a base level she is scared of everything and everyone. She wants to be and at some level is very selfless, wanting to help as many people as she can, but on on other level, instinctually gravitates towards whatever will ensure her own safety. Her first instinct isn’t to save someone else in trouble- it’s to save her own hide. It’s only through effort that she chooses the former. She doesn’t want to be selfish or thinking of herself first, she wants to be selfless and heroic. It just takes a lot of self control and decisions in order for her to actually be so. She’d love to be able to say she didn’t ever want or ask to have the power of inquisitor. But she’s dreamed of power for a long time- power means you can’t get hurt, and if you are hurt, power means others come and save you. On a darker level, power means she can hurt who she wants to, when she wants to. And caz wants to hurt a lot of people, though she denies it to herself and others.

Caz is prone to fits of paranoia and panic attacks. She smokes a lot of elf root to stave off panic attacks, though sometimes it has the opposite effect and she smoked too much and freaks out.

Caz likes being inquisitor. People show her respect. People worship her, and that brings safety and a measure of love.

Cazes parents were devout andrasteans, hated and feared all forms of magic. Caz showed signs of harboring magic from a. Very young age. They used to drown her in a pond and pray they could pray the magic away. Her dad was an abusive alcoholic who beat the shit out of her and her mom. Her mom blamed her for tying herself to her husband and ruining her life. She never beat her hard, but was more verbally abusive. Her dad beat her with things like wooden planks with nails in them hard enough to give her deep set wounds in her behind and back that got infected and inflamed. He once used a hammer to nail her ears to a table. Her dad would beat the hell out of her mom, and when he left, caz would try and comfort and heal her mom, who would slap her away in fits of despair and scream sobb about how caz couldn’t help her, how it was her fault.

After they told the circle about her and let them take her, about a year in her mom killed herself. When caz escaped and came back to help her she was already dead. Then the circle got her again and she was punished for escaping.

The circle was also not great. Very bad. Caz is very mentally ill for a reason. Sexual assault by the first and only Templars she trusted who knew her since she was a kid, watching her best friend kill himself by jumping out the highest tower window, constant surveillance and more assault and deaths.

[houdinicorbini]

Mordern! Ace x BPD! Reader Scenario

This is for my best friend who has BPD, so this is a comfort fic with one of their comfort characters

Love you, Lady!

Tw: suffering from mental illness, anxiety, declining mental health, suicidal thoughts, self-sabotaging, depersonalization, derealization, intrusive thoughts, slight cursing

The specific BPD I am writing for is Quiet BPD (also known as Discouraged BPD). These are not all of the symptoms. I only added just some of what people who have it have to deal with, if you want to know more about Borderline Personality Disorder, I recommend you do more research since I am not a professional and don't have it. Not all of the symptoms I have written here speak for everyone who has it.

Ace has known you for many years, hell, you two were great friends before you even considered getting together.

So it's only natural that he can tell when something is up.

What gave away that something was wrong in the beginning was the fact that you haven’t been responding to any of his calls and texts for a few days.

Which can be fine, sometimes people are just busy, but he can read you like a book and knows that your mental illness isn’t being kind. This man observes people, so he can tell when something’s not right.

He knows that you have moments of self-sabotaging to where you don’t take care of yourself. So, before he gets to where you live, he decides to make a quick pitstop at a store.

Once Ace walks in, he just starts putting anything and everything he knows that you'll enjoy in the cart.

He got regular food, goodies that you'll get once you've actually eaten some food, and a few coloring books as a distraction. He also intends on getting you groceries too.

He was walking around the store with a full cart within just five minutes of entering, and he still had other things to get.

After everything was gotten, Ace quickly loaded up and rolled out, possibly breaking the speed limit to get to your house as quickly as possible.

He had some frozen items that he did not want to melt after all.

He did not tell you beforehand that he was just going to drop on by your place, so it was a real surprise to see Ace with grocery bags covering his arms and one being held in his mouth.

“Wha-“ you were about to question him when he cut you off by stepping into your home. “I’ll explain in a second.” His response was rather muffled due to the plastic bag he was holding.

With him, two trips are for the weak.

Once Ace went into the kitchen, he showed no signs of coming out, so you had to walk in to see what he was doing in there. You find him preparing what you assume is a giant batch worth of spaghetti. Based on the ingredients he had out.

"How've you been?" He asks, looking over at you before turning his attention back towards the preparation of the meal that you love so much.

You can already tell that he knows, Ace was always so quick to know when something was wrong and when you needed someone.

But he obviously wasn't going to flat out demand an answer, he'll wait until you are comfortable enough. There's no point in trying to force it.

You were quiet as you started fishing for a response, but you decided to be honest since Ace already knew, there'd be no point. Lying would just make you feel worse, and that was not needed right now.

"Not well." You answer truthfully.

"After I make this spaghetti, we can sit down and talk, only if you are up for it though. In the meantime go and sit on the couch, get comfortable!" He said, acting like he owns the place, though it's not like you minded, his attitude did make you smile a little.

You did just as he suggested and went to the couch, getting the tv set up while you waited, maybe some background noise will help ease the anxiousness anyways.

Putting on the first movie you saw that didn't make you want to rip your hair out at this moment, you sat down on the comfy couch, getting yourself under a big blanket you had already there.

It was comforting knowing that Ace was just in the room next to you, doing what he could to help you through this. It truly meant a lot.

After a little bit, the smell of the well seasoned sauce activated your stomach, causing it the growl uncontrollably.

More time had passed and you had gotten quite distracted by the movie, to the point that you hadn’t even realized that Ace was right behind you, not until he put his hand on your shoulder, scaring the shit out of you.

"Gah!" You whip your head around, looking at the man who was wearing a shit eating grin. "You didn't answer me when I called, so I had to resort to more drastic measures." You could see that he clearly enjoyed that.

"Here. Now eat up." He said like it was more of a demand than a request.

"Thank-" And he was already gone before you could say anything. Looking down at the plate, you saw that he gave you a generous helping of spaghetti.

A minute later, Ace reappears, holding his own plate, carefully sitting beside you, making sure not to spill his food.

"Here you go." He hands you some napkins.

"Thank you." You say while taking them, grateful of how thoughtful he was. This can be a rather messy meal, and you don't want to deal with a messy face right now.

You turn up the volume a bit, since there's going to be eating. It helps with your mental health, and Ace totally understands that. Whatever helps you out.

You thoroughly enjoyed the food, not exactly taking your time, which caused Ace to lightly pat your head, his way of him telling you to slow down.

After a good portion of your food was finished and your face has been wiped, you placed the plate and napkin on the coffee table in front of you, not wanting to deal with it at this current moment.

"It was absolutely delicious." You say with a small smile, happy that you got an actual meal.

That plate was the most you've eaten in a few days.

Ace followed and did the same thing before scooting closer to you and placing the blanket over the both of you. It was comfort time.

"Now, do you want to talk about it?" He asked, calmly grabbing your hand in an attempt to help make you feel safe enough to talk about what's going on.

You let out a sigh, letting it bubble up wasn't going to help, but a part of you was worried to talk about it. You know he's trustworthy, but your BPD is telling you otherwise.

You understand that someone has good intentions but then it tells you the exact opposite, it's just a constant battle that you are getting incredibly tired of.

"It's just the usual really, nothing new."

"That doesn't mean you can't talk about it, it may be all the same, but it's better to let it out before it swells up. New or old."

He had a good point, it was better to get it out now before it boils over.

Ace paused the movie, giving you a chance to talk.

It took you a few seconds to think it over, to decide what to say and how to put it into words, some of the things you were dealing with can be rather difficult to explain.

But you were going to try, you had a feeling that Ace was going to listen, whether he understood or not.

"I've been struggling with a lot of things lately. From intrusive thoughts about ending it all, to not even feeling real and like I'm living outside of my own body."

You stare down at the table, not wanting to make eye contact while you continued to talk about your problems.

"I've been having a hard time wondering if I'm real or not, it's getting so bad that I can't even recognize myself in the mirror. It's a horrible feeling."

You could feel tears threatening to spill, but you'd rather not cry in front of someone, not right now anyways. Though it was starting to become too late for that.

"This feeling just won't go away, it's been happening for a few days now." You say in disappointment, growing tired of this feeling that's been plaguing you.

Now you were trying to stop the tears that were escaping, but for every one tear that you wiped, two more would appear, and then you just couldn't stop it anymore.

"I know I could have gone to you for help, but it's nothing new and I didn't want to bother you." You said in between sobs, finally looking at him here and there.

Ace kept listening, not wanting to cut in until he was sure that you had said everything that needed to be said, even if he had to sit there for hours, he would do it, just for you.

"And my intrusive thoughts have not been kind to me in the slightest, constantly telling me to just end it all, and I don't even want to, but it's just so constant that it makes it feel like I do want to."

You paused for a moment, giving yourself time to think after confessing a lot of what's been on your mind.

"Then there's the main thing BPD, which is also why I didn't talk, it's been forcing me to self sabotage. I've barely been taking care of myself, I probably wouldn't have eaten much today if you hadn't of come by." You admitted, not really proud of it, even though it's not your fault that your mental illness has been kicking your ass.

You looked at Ace again, this time waiting for him to talk, which he understood and did just that.

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, placing a supportive kiss on your forehead while wiping away what tears he could.

He placed one more kiss on your nose before speaking.

"And how are you feeling at this exact moment? Are you still feeling the same way you described?" He asked.

You did a 50/50 motion with your free hand. "Luckily, I feel like I'm in my own body today, and the thoughts haven't been too violent today, and thanks to you, I actually got some food in me." You gave a small laugh at the end there, though it sounded a tad bit forced.

"I'm glad to hear that it's not going as bad as it was, that's an improvement, I don't mind you asking for help when this happens, but I know your reasons and I can't fault you for that."

Ace started fiddling with your hair with his other hand, which you didn't mind, you welcomed it actually.

"Did something happen to make this start? Or was it random?" He asked, letting go of your hand so he could use his to play with your hair more.

You felt guilt hit you right away. You almost didn't want to mention why, but nothing was going to get better, and you would once again just feel bad. So what's the point in hiding it?

"When we were hanging out recently, there was something you said, your tone sounded off to me and I fully regret not saying something sooner, and I know that's on me. I should have just talked about it with you and clarified what you meant right away." You began to feel the tears coming back as you rambled.

"And after that is when my mental issues just began attacking me at once, but it wasn't your fault, I just-"

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay." Ace quickly said, trying to get you to calm down. He immediately grabbed ahold of your hand once more.

"It's alright, may I ask what I said to make you feel that way. And I'm not mad, I just want to make sure everything is alright." He wanted to quickly clarify that everything is fine.

You explained exactly what it was, trying to apologize for taking it the wrong way, to which he cut you off.

"Sometimes we just take things the wrong way, it's human, the best thing we can do is to talk to that person and ask this to clarify what they meant. You can use what happened to learn, not to beat yourself up."

"You're not upset?" You asked, genuinely surprised, not that he's ever given you a reason to be surprised.

"Of course not! Now if you had stolen my dessert, we'd be having a different conversation." He laughed, causing you to join him.

You both stayed on the couch for a little bit longer, you resting your head on his shoulder as you calmed down.

Ace did get up at one point, to put the dishes that were on the table into the sink, and to give you some tissues. He knew you were going to want them soon.

After some time, you began to feel a bit better, it helped to have Ace right by your side, telling you soothing things while feeling him kiss your head every so often.

It made you feel incredibly loved.

"Now! I got you favorite donuts." He suddenly says while getting up, not waiting for you to get up with him, thus causing him to just drag you into the kitchen, to which you accepted while saying "Weeeeee!"

"Get off the floor." He said while helping you up, acting as if he wasn't the one who just put you there.

Once you were standing, Ace took that opportunity to wrap his harm around your waist, pulling you closer to him so he could place a few kisses here and there on your cheeks, causing you to giggle and proceeded to give him the same treatment.

At least you tried before he turned his head, causing you to kiss his lips, flustering you but making him feel victorious.

"You already taste sweet and you haven't even had a donut yet~" Ace flirted, making you playfully hit his arm.

"You dork, now hand me a donut."

"I require something in return. Something special."

"What." You accidently sounded more aggressive than you intended.

When Ace gave you a certain look was when you realized what you did, making you laugh once more.

"Now, one more kiss and I'll grant you what you want."

You gave a sweet smile before leaning, getting ready to kiss and then you quickly steal a donut before running back to the couch, giggling like a gremlin.

You thought you had won, that was until Ace, very sneakily went up behind you once more.

"I think you forgot something." He whispered in your ear, causing you to jump and scream.

"WHY!?" You yelled.

"You went against what we agreed on." He says while bapping your head.

"Ow."

"That did not hurt."

This little game continued on as you both just watched movies throughout the day, cuddling and just eating junk food, with healthy meals.

He even brought out the coloring books he got you, joining in as you two began to talk about whatever came to mind.

You being in his company helped greatly, you both spent most of the rest of the day glued to one another, trapped under that blanket, to which you did not mind.

Man is built like a heater and you were cold anyways.

But jokes aside, Ace helped you a lot, more than he realizes, his timing has always been spot on, you don't know how he does it.

You're just grateful he's there with you.