Pain is a great motivator…
Part 26 || First || Previous || Next
—Full Series—
Meanwhile Toriel:
(Loud noises don't wake her up usually.)
Artist note: I’m so proud of this :))) I know it’s a lot of dialogue and reading, but dialogue is grueling work for me. I’m glad with the art and for the amount of pages I made in such a relatively short time span -w- page 5 was super fun to work on. A lot of blood, sweat, and hours here... :) The backgrounds were a big bore tbh, but I finished them! Yippie!
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🐙❤️
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I think Deku has a bit of a mean streak, actually. he’s no Bakugou—that’s for sure—but he’s not this innocent, sweet angel baby that the media has painted him out to be. but you only catch it when you least expect it, when you’re pushing his nerves, when the stakes to everything around him are high, when he’s tired of endless sleepless nights and just—snaps.
“Oh?” you go, grin unfurling like some grinch, chin resting on your hands as you leer at him from across his expansive desk. “You’re mean.” your words are teasing, a snarl that curls your mouth up. Deku stutters, eyes going wide, jaw snapping shut in surprise as he tries to think back on how rude he just sounded.
“No, I’m not—I mean, you wouldn’t stop and I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now—and you just—you keep on—I’m not—I’m not mean.” He’s sputtering, hands all over the place, the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose falling even lower with how he jabbers on and on. it’s endearing really, to see how he tries to upkeep his image of being so kind and understanding, even though his nostrils just flared at you. and his eyebrows turned down and he gritted at you, his hands were balled into fists, his words were so nasty, so ugly, so unbecoming for Deku.
you liked it. loved it even—vowed to get him like this every single fucking second that you could.
you pick and poke at him whenever you see him, teasing him and pulling at him. pushing him around even though the hero is so much stronger than you, so much bigger. and he lets you, tries to defend himself but—that’s not what you want. you want the ugliness, the snark, the mean.
he snaps, eventually, when you least expect it. grabs you up in black whip when you go to push him against the wall for the third time in only a minute, his eyes suddenly dark, the aura of the room suddenly charged.
“That’s what I was looking for.” you whisper to him, the grin spreading your face quickly dissipating in only seconds when you become the prey. when you become the one pushed up against the wall with teeth at your neck, a hand in your underwear, bullying your hole with too thick fingers.
“Why do you want me to act like this? Be so mean to you, huh?” he sounds so frustrated with himself, with you, growling and nipping and licking when you don’t answer quick enough. but your breath is caught in your lungs because finally—finally, did you get what you wanted. it just took a little bit of pushing, you suppose.
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Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood
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artificer and spearmaster for a huge rw project im working on
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I’m sure they’re fine
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Good morning, Sleepyhead.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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it’s a terrible affliction, isn’t it? the guilt I can’t absolve you of, however much I wish I could
notes:
-the inspiration for this piece was the concept of guilt as poison, represented as the cigarette (physical) and the gun (mental)
-the cigarette is pretty self-explanatory as a poison. I see it as a form of punishment he inflicts on himself--it's killing him but he pushes onward anyway
(-even if the regenerative drug's effects extend to healing damage caused by chemicals, there's still weight to the act of willingly putting poison into his system. either way it's not enough self-sabotage to stop wolfwood from fighting for the orphanage, but it's enough to make him feel something)
-the gun is, of course, about his role as an assassin: how he justifies the act of killing, and how he deems it necessary, but laments what he's become at times
-vash understands very well that wolfwood carries his own heavy burden in silence, but still wants to ease the pain
-so here he's asking wolfwood to leave it to him, to allow himself some reprieve, by taking the cigarette and gently lowering the gun
-vash's plant powers are supposed to represent a "blessed antidote" to suppress the "cursed poison", which is why it has glowing blue-green (associated with healing) lines in contrast to the purple smoke (associated with poison)
-in other words: "if I fight in your stead will that lessen your suffering?" (no lol)
-these colors are also the highlights on their respective earrings
-consider the caption to be the last part of the piece: where vash admits his attempt at helping wolfwood isn't a permanent solution, but it doesn't stop him from trying anyway
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The way that Dariax is the only one to end up alone at the end of this.
Opal has Fy'ra; they have their deities. Morrighan has Cyrus's soul for a moment and a Matron for a lifetime. Dorian has the Bells Hells once more. But Dariax... for a while, at least, Dariax will have no one.
And it's in the way that Dariax won't realize at first that he's been abandoned.
Maybe he'll think he lost track of time. He'll go traipsing through town, asking about a handsome blue bard, trying to figure out what inn they must've agreed to meet back at for the night. Because they must have, right?
The night grows dark, and still no sign. He'll get sick with worry. He knows he's thick, but surely he would've noticed if something happened, right? He would've known if Dorian was in danger?
And then... I don't know what's worse from there.
What story does he tell himself, in the end?
That Dorian blames him for not being able to save his brother? No, no, Dorian was taken—because he would never have abandoned him, not when they were all the two of them had left?
Dariax has always known he was a lot to handle. He's been told how exhausting he can be. He knows he has never been worth sticking around for.
But he thought—
—he thought that maybe he'd done it right this time. That maybe someone would stay.
Eventually, Dariax stops looking. He greets isolation like an old friend.
He plays his new lute to fill the lonely silence, and it does not help.
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It is okay to need pain medication to function with your chronic pain. It is okay. I promise. I know everywhere you turn pain medication is demonized. I know that it is scary to talk about. It is okay to be grateful that you have access to pain medication. Pain meds have greatly improved my quality of life and I wouldn't be able to live my life outside of my bed without them. And that's okay!!!
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silly little comic about chronic pain
[image id: an 8 panel comic
the first panel has a conversation between two people. the one on the right is a light gray, and facing away from the viewer. they are meant to represent a generic person. they are saying, "wow, chronic pain sounds like it sucks." sucks is written in a dark pink. the person on the right has tan skin, a pink shirt, and pink hair. he responds "haha yeah."
the second panel shows the same two people, with the first person saying "how do you tolerate it? i'd go crazy!" tolerate is written in a dark pink. the second person responsed "um..." and trails off
the third panel shifts to a drawing of the second person sitting curled into himself. it is entirely grayscale, except for his pink hair, which is a little more muted. the text around him reads "i tolerate it because not doing so isn't an option". 'isn't an option' is written in dark pink.
the fourth panel shows him sitting and leaning against the left edge of the frame, with his legs stretched out. it reads "because what else am i supposed to do?" supposed is in all caps and written in dark pink.
the fifth panel shows a torso up drawing of him in the bottom right corner. the text reads "i can't hope for a day i'll wake up and be better." better is written in dark pink and all caps on the left half of the panel.
the sixth panel shows him sleeping, with a brown dog near his head. the text above him reads "all i can do is make sure i wake up." wake up is written in dark pink.
the seventh panel is all text, reading "i tolerate it because it needs to be tolerable". tolerable is written in dark pink.
the eighth panel shifts back to the conversation between the two people. the man finishes his response to the other person's question with "i don't know".
end image id]
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okay focusing on NATASHA when Peggy and Steve were reuniting was really a choice wasn't it
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Just in case anyone else needed to hear this today-
Your health is not your fault. You didn’t do anything to “deserve” this. And you are right, it isn’t fair. You are allowed to feel upset, hurt, angry and jealous that your health, body or mind disables you.
It’s not fair, and that sucks. You are allowed to scream about that as much as you need to.
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