#ive neglected drawing him for too long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

satellite-runner · 2 years

Text

The significance of the color red (the venom siblings)

[Tw's: Canon typical violence, misgendering, child neglect? I physically couldn't bare looking at this thing any longer and it's already been like a month since I said I'd post it. I didn't even finish it but I figured I'd just post what I have. Sorry that if its formated badly and the grammar/punctuation is off, i only have my phone to write and post on. Ive also never posted fanfiction online before so theres that to]

Everyone knows the venom siblings both include red as part of their primary colors.

What most don’t know is why they do.

Party Poison had striking red hair and matching makeup on their neck. The hair was done first, long before the iconic red splatter over their jugular. Poison doesn’t like to think of themselves as an attention seeker, more like they drew attention. they couldn’t control it, eyes constantly on them whether they liked it or not; especially in their first few years in the zones, it caused a lot of trouble. They needed to fly under the radar. Fresh out of the city, barely fighting off Dracs coupled with the desert heat and starvation, they couldn’t afford to be the one flame moths were drawn to. For a long time, they thought they were cursed. It caused them unimaginable grief. Getting them in rumbles and duels before they even knew how to shoot proper but somehow surviving.

They knew when they were just Juvie Halls, Kobra had a psychology book on the effects different colors had on the mind. Poison wasn’t all that interested in reading but Kobra was. He loved books, once he got his hands on any book of any genre, he wouldn’t put it down until he finished. The psychology book being one of the first few non-city regulation books the young boy had, he spoke about it a lot. It was clear Kobra liked the color red the most, he talked about it constantly and mostly its effects. Red meant plenty of things: love, anger, passion, hatred, desire, strength, anxiety, help and danger. One thing that struck the siblings about the color was that it was always loud. It screamed in need of attention, it was yelling to everyone, “Look at me! Look at me!”

Once they landed a semi-permanent home with Dr. D, Cherri Cola, and Show Pony, Poison found themselves bored. They’d spend only Witch knows how long looking at their appearance, the urge to change becoming insatiable. They felt too city-like. It was clear they were green, with a city accent and no proper sense of zone fashion, plain brown hair and no tattoos or piercings. They were painfully plain. They couldn’t stand it, seeing themselves in any kind of reflective surface, it made them sick (they later learned that was also related to their gender dysphoria but lets smooth over that for now). So for the next supply run, they asked Pony to find them some bleach and red hair dye. They felt a bit dirty, stealing Kobra's favorite color right out from under him, but he reassured them that it was okay. Despite turning to Pony about their problem with their appearance, they couldn't stand having the person to also help with the dyeing process. So they got Kobra to do it, under Pony’s careful instructions. After all that, their hair was shaggy and their scalp burnt– but their hair was firetruck red. They couldn't find Kobra any gloves to wear so his hands were just as red, the color staining both of their souls permanently. Poison spent so long staring at themselves in their shitty, broken mirror, transfixed by the fact that the color felt so much like them. Eventually, Kobra had to drag them out of the bathroom, making Poison realize that the matching stain on Kobra’s skin made red feel like the both of them.

The vibrant color felt fitting, their outward appearance finally matched with their skill to draw attention. Now it was them that visibly screamed, “Look at me! Look at me! I'm rebelling!” Of course, the dyed hair took away any chance they had to live life peacefully as a neutral. the vibrancy went so far against Bli’s black and white that it was a death sentence. They weren’t bothered about it though, they wouldn’t have been able to live with themselves if they complied with Bli’s rules out in the desert instead of inside their walls, they needed to rebel.

Dyed hair was symbolic no matter where you lived, even just highlights would get you re-educated inside the city. In neutral towns, you could get away with a blonde streak or two but color was still a large no-no. But with killjoys? Neon was the norm. Dyed hair, bright clothes, painted vehicles, painted guns, graffiti. You couldn't step into killjoy territory without seeing so many colors your head would hurt. Once again color screams, and it screamed, “Look at me! Look at me! I'm not alone! We are rebelling! We made these dyes and paint! We are rebelling!”

The red stain of Poison’s hair dye on Kobra's hands was not the first piece of red symbolism he took on. He’d taken a shine to the color early on, finding its brightness captivating.

He knew Poison was always the center of attention; always catching eyes and turning heads, always being sought out for advice and reassurance. People looked up to Poison, but overlooked Kobra. He was mostly okay with this, seeing just how crushing the weight of the attention Poison received could be. But sometimes, he just wished to be the one they looked at. He was skilled and smart too! Just because he was younger didn’t mean he was useless!

When they got into the zones, Kobra was just a boy. He was barely ten and still unsure of his own pronouns, letting people call him a girl, never speaking up about the horrible churning pain it stirred in his chest. He could ignore it if he distracted himself enough, if he used everyone's lack of attention on him to his advantage.

They hopped from crew to crew often, no one was willing to take in two kids so young and unwieldy. Poison was loud, clumsy and angry. Kobra was virtually mute, standoffish and suffocating to be around. It left all the attention to Poison, like always. By the third or fourth crew they passed through, Kobra had the perfect system for swiping things from them. Poison would inevitably do something that needed everyone’s undivided attention and no one would notice the little girl slipping his tiny hands in their pockets or bags, rifling through and stealing anything with a significant amount of red on it. Poison knew Kobra did this but could never find a reason to force him to stop. He didn’t take anything important and most of the time, the crew wouldn’t even notice anything was missing until after the siblings were already gone. they never suspected the innocent little girl and Poison was just too boisterous to steal anything without immediately giving themselves up.

A few years later, the siblings stumbled upon the radio shack. After a few weeks of observation, it was impossible for Dr. D to not notice the boy's obsession with the color. There were a lot of things that were impossible to miss about the boy, actually. He was almost always non-verbal for one and he was scary smart for a kid his age. He was standoffish and shy, not telling anyone much about himself other than the fact he was not a girl (which was more so said through Poison but Dr. D liked to count it anyway) but he was also polite, thoughtful and scared. The poor boy was terrified. It took Doc a few weeks and a lot of gentle prodding to learn he was so scared because they’ve never stayed in one place for so long.

It wasn’t surprising, it wasn't shocking, instead it was sad. The kid was well into his teens at fourteen years of age and never settled into one spot for more than two months, hell, the boy knew every zone like the back of his hand simply because he had lived in every inch of sand the desert had to offer. Neither of the siblings ever had a home or a crew to call their own. It was then and there Doc decided he’d do anything he could for the siblings, care for them until they found their own crew, spend every last carbon he had on them for them to realize that they were worth it, until they understood he wanted to keep them around.

It was a no-brainer to look for red clothing the next supply run he went on.

He was beyond delighted when he found two (mostly) red jackets that seemed right up Kobra's alley. He picked up a few zonemade sketchbooks and pens at Tommy Chow Meins for Poison, so it didn't look like he favored Kobra over them.

When he got back to the radio shack, Kobra and Poison were on the floor. Poison was laying on their back talking animatedly to Kobra as he sat about a foot away, listening. Kobra was very good at listening, especially when it was Poison talking.

"You two! C'mere!" He gestured towards the siblings, waving them over to where he stood in the middle of the room. The pair got up excitedly (well, Kobra looked more confused than excited) after seeing Doc holding something behind his back, out of their view.

He'd found two red gift bags to package the presents in, figuring the color suited the both of them just fine. He found both of them rocked on the balls of their feet when waiting.

"I got you two some gifts!" he grinned, pulling the bags from behind his back, presenting them to the siblings.

The young 'joys looked at him apprehensively, with Kobra even taking a half step back. It took a few words of reassurance for them to take the bags let alone open them at all.

Poison reacted first, gasping when they pulled out the twine tied pack of pens and a few handmade sketchbooks. They practically squealed, tackling Doc into a hug that he happily returned. He was so distracted by the older venom sibling that he didn't notice Kobra putting on the lighter weighted jacket of the two.

The jacket was too big, engulfing the boy’s body. It was a windbreaker. Zipping up to the chin, the sleeves and lower half a faded red with an upper panel of mustard yellow that started at the chest and went up to the chin. Truly Dr D didn't know the boy's sensory issues with clothing, so he'd gone over the common things like no tags or feelable threads or seams. Past that, he had no clue if Kobra liked the fabric, the zipper or the noise it made when moving. He'd just hoped he could find someone who liked the jackets if Kobra didn't.

Kobra twisted and turned in the jacket, getting a sense of what it was like. The zip going all the way up to his jaw was weird, though not a feeling he couldn't get used to. It was baggy, an adult jacket was indeed unfit for a malnourished teen. But he adored the colors, the yellow matched with his bleached hair perfectly, the red just a few shades lighter than Poison’s ‘in your face’ red. The sleeves and waist were cuffed with fabric that was softened with time, making him feel secure in the article of clothing.

He felt like lightning had been shot through him, coming out in the flapping of his hands and the chewing of his bottom lip. The jacket concealed his horribly feminine figure, the colors were eye-catching but not overwhelming. Instead, he got the immense feeling to never take the jacket off, it felt like the missing piece of the puzzle he was looking for. It was staggering.

Doc looked back to the younger sibling, finding him to be stimming up a storm. The jacket suited him surprisingly well, the faded hues blending well with his hair and skin tone. Doc could easily see the boy growing into the jacket and have it become an easy part of his iconic killjoy outfit.

It took a lot of convincing for Kobra to try on the other jacket. This jacket was all red and much heavier, thicker, stuffier and once again far too large.

Doc hummed in thought, looking over the 'joy.

"It's a motorbike jacket, we gotta get you a bike to go with it," he said casually. In passing just to wipe the confusion of both the siblings' faces. They all still understood it as a promise, they would get him a bike to go with it.

Dr D watched with pride as Kobra took to the first jacket immediately, wearing it every day he could. A year or two later, after they'd found him a sketchy city surgeon to give him top surgery and supply him with HRT, Kobra reinstated his love for the jacket as he filled it out with some muscle. The jacket no longer swamped him and hid his figure, the tighter fit brought him a constant sense of confidence and security.

Kobra's name grew from being unheard of to being whispered in alleyways, his reputation in duels and rumbles turned heads. People started to recognise him by his iconic jacket, bleached hair and sunglasses. People started to know who he was, when walking past a deck o’ cards, it wasn’t only his sibling who was spoken about in admired, hushed words.

When Kobra and Poison were grown, with two close friends, Doc was sure they'd run off with to start a crew of their own. They celebrated their final zone birthday before Doc had to watch his first two permanent strays leave him behind (it was dramatic,

he'd still have Pony living him with and 'joys from all over the zones popping in and out)

Zone birthdays were important for city borns. Zone birthdays were for the fortunate bats that made it for more than a year in the desert, an anniversary of the day they escaped Bli’s black and white life and making it to the zone's neon. Dr D knew he'd have to make this one a big one, give them the biggest presents he could before they were suddenly gone, not filling the Radio Shack with excited laughter, ramblings, fights and endless creativity. He'd miss those venom kids.

Doc left for a week to secure Kobra’s present, leaving Poison’s present to Pony (he put his trust into them, knowing they always had luck on their side)

He left Cherri in charge, being the second oldest (which really wasn't that far ahead of the siblings) and slightly more responsible than Pony. Cherri was much more laid back than the Doc, less strict on the rules, basically letting the 'joys do whatever they liked as long as they didn't die or leave any evidence behind to a crime.

That's how the venom siblings ended up drunk on Zonemead, rambling to the poor guy about anything and everything. As it often did, their conversation gradually drifted to the color red and its significance. That piqued Cherri’s interest, because it lit up Kobra’s face (his eyes widened slightly, the biggest facial expression he'd make these days) and his hands curled in the thick fabric of his pants.

The topic stuck, going over psychology, theory and speculation. They came to one conclusion, red was important. It was a stable of not only the desert, killjoys and revaluation, but life in general. Cherri could vividly describe to you the suffocating feeling of being around something larger than you. The feeling that always choked him up after having a long conversation with the venom siblings.

While Cherri was primarily there to keep everyone alive and well, his job was to also distract them. The presents they were getting weren't exactly easy to conceal as time goes on.

Doc always got discounts, no matter where he went. He was the only zone-wide radio host, keeping everyone company on their best and worst days. He was every 'joy’s friend, everyone knew his name and radio station number by heart. For many lone wolves, he was the only friend they had. He wasn't shocked when he got to the shop where he ordered Kobra’s custom bike and they immediately docked the price so heavily it cost the same as a box of power pup. It helped that everyone knew who Kobra Kid was. He pretended not to notice the 'joy getting starry eyed at the mention of the boy, for their sake.

Pony was admittedly running late on Poison’s present. They hadn't actually thought about anything to get the red head, just trusting that they'd stumble across something perfect like they always did. It was a day and half after Doc left and they still haven't done much more than hop couches and wander the zones like they always did. The crew they were running with for the day was familiar, a young crew who had been hanging around the radio station every now and again.

"Pony!" One of them yelled out, a pink haired boy who went by Sandman.

"Yes, darlin'?" They hummed, skating over to where the 'joy had been rummaging through a few dilapidated buildings. Pony hadn't bothered joining, their skates not faring too well through the rubble, they didn't fancy eating concrete that particular day.

"I think there's something shiny you might like there," he grinned back, sweeping his arm to a rusted garage. Maybe the buildings once belonged to a neutral village, there wasn't enough color for it to point towards it being a killjoy village and the architecture looked plain.

Pony rolled over to the entrance, leaning over to peak under the roller door that Sandman forcefully pried open moments prior.

What they saw, they'd have never expected to see out in the dregs of zone 5. A car, dusty and half covered with a sheet that Sandman had clearly just moved. It was a nice car, sleek and looked like it was once well looked after. Pony wasn't a motorhead, they couldn't have told you what kind it was but it really was shiny.

"Wow, a Trans am! Haven't seen one of those in real life before!" Another 'joy in the crew whistled, his coily hair bouncing around his head. He ducked under the garage door, marvelling at the vehicle.

The familiar thing in Ponys chest clicked, they knew they'd found the right present. They sent a quick 'thank you' to the deities before ducking under the door themselves.

Just like that, a few days of work on the car and Doc's tedious journey back with a new bike, they secured both the venom siblings a shiny new vehicle for their fresh start.

Birthday parties always worked the same in the radio shack. It'd be done in the lounge, where there was the most space. They'd wrapped and wheeled Kobras present into the room, and had just wrapped the keys to Poison's car tightly up in a box. The siblings always had a race to open their presents first, the wrapping getting more intricate and difficult over the years.

The siblings got blindly placed in front of their presents, Jet's hands covering Kobras eyes and Ghoul's covering Poisons.

Both the presents were wrapped wildly, layers of tape, paper, wire, anything they could get their hands on to make the packaging impossible to tear open quickly. The venom siblings always knew how to get through it anyway, finding which string to pull and what wire to rip.

They were both rocking on the balls of their feet as everyone counted down, excitement thrumming through their veins.

As soon as Doc yelled 'go!' They were scrambling. Poison threw themselves onto their knees, pulling the little box onto their lap and throwing off the first layer of newspaper. Kobra had immediately wrapped his hands into the first layer, snagging some string underneath. They were both much too busy trying to win the race to think about what their gifts may be, neither even so much as glancing at the other's present.

The room was full of screaming and cheering, incoherent yells of names and directions. Kobra felt his heart rise into his throat as his fingers met a white sheet. They always used fabric as the final layer between the wrapping and the present, to try ensure no damage was done to the actual gift in the onslaught. He heard poison scream next to him, so he assumed they'd hit the fabric as well. He desperately clawed the fabric away, only to be left utterly speechless despite the overwhelming noise around him.

It was a motorbike. Not a city one either, a real honest to Witch zone made motorbike. It was painted a shiny blood red.

Poison furrowed their brow as they tore open the box, throwing the fabric covering the small item inside. They were faced with a pair of keys. They looked handmade and a bit junky, like most keys were in the zones. It took them a long moment to realize it was a set of car keys. The ribbon holding them together was a faded red.

#venom siblings #danger days #ttlotfk hcs #ttlotfk #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #party poison #kobra kid

22 notes · View notes

nerves-nebula · 1 year

Note

wait I legit thought that the rat dad figure being (?) in TMNT was extremely neglectful and that's why the four stick together because they essentially had to raise themselves alone while hiding from the rest of society?

Like that's why they're big on fighting/being strong is because they had to protect each other from whatever dangers might come and try getting rid of them all for being mutants and stuff.

Also thought they grew up in the sewers and had to climb out and steal a few things at night and that's why they dressed up as ninjas originally. So they could steal food/some supplies and like not die of starvation or whatever

(I have not seen any versions of the show and have only a vague understanding of TMNT. It sounds like it's ripe for dysfunctional family dynamics possibly??)

GHAGHAG OK SOOOO THE THING ISSSS THAT I HAVE A LOT OF OPINIONS ON SPLINTER and the nature of abuse/neglect in the tmnt franchise BUT

the thing is that there are a lot of versions of TMNT that I haven't seen, including any original/old versions or comics SO mind you that my opinions here are also mostly crafted through cultural osmosis, and some vague memories of comics/tv shows. the only tmnt show ive watched in its entirety has been the 2018 version (ROTTMNT).

THAT BEING SAID: I don't think its unfair to call most versions of splinter kind of bad parents. theres definitely versions of him that are barely parents at all, really more of a Master figure who teaches the turtles to fight and trains them, than like, a Dad. 2018 is prolly the most Dad like one (they even call him dad and pops and stuff)

the thing is that TMNT can be either incredibly lighthearted or really really angst-y. They do live in the sewers cause they can't usually live above ground with people, but this really ranges from "all humans hate and fear them and will attack them on sight" to "they just need to stay in the shadows and make sure they dont spook anybody" and sometimes it barely matters at all and people are just like "wow cool costumes guys"

and so in those lighthearted versions, while splinter might not be portrayed as a really cool great dad, he is usually a really cool great NINJA MASTER. so any kind of symptoms of neglect that could come from not being raised by PARENTS is usually forgotten/hand waved because who needs parents when you have your brothers??? COwabunGA lets go eat pizza :)

and thats FINE thats the tone they're going for its ok, even if logically it would be an emotional nightmare. this is a show about teenage mutant ninja turtles its ok to not be logical.

im actually not sure why they're ninjas, apart from Master Splinter training them to BE ninjas. though there are definitely versions where they're being hunted/seen as threats and that's why they need to Get Good at fighting.

so to recap: splinter isn't always portrayed as a good person or a good guardian, but usually the story doesn't really delve into that or frame it as abuse/neglect. sometimes he's "too harsh" or "too cold" but usually nothing deeper than that.

WHICH BRINGS US TO RISE OF THE TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES, the 2018 version that ive watched all of.

THE THING ABOUT ROTTMNT is that they made me uncomfortable by making jokes about splinter being a neglectful shitty dad, which i made a whole post about a while ago. and while they did make him a better dad LATER on it really really weirded me out how his neglect wasn't super focused on except for like. one or two episodes??

the thing is that splinter needs to be neglectful so that the boys can go out and have adventures and I GET THAT I REALLY DO as a storyteller some things just need to be hand-waved I GET IT. BUT. why draw attention to it if you dont plan on there being long term affects???

the only result seems to be that he Becomes a Better Dad but I can tell you first hand if my parents did a turn around like that it would NOT fix everything and I GUESS i'm just weirdly disappointed that they pointed out the neglect, made jokes about it, and then didn't reallyyyy go into it more. I mean im sure if I wanted to I could go into analysis mode and be like "well these character arcs could point to the ways neglect has effected them" but to be HONEST that'd probably be more me projecting than anything else.

AND LIKE. if they didn't want to discuss neglect why even bring it up???

and your point about it being a set up ripe for familial abuse/dysfunction is TRUE, but is also hardly ever the focus of the story. sure the stories focus on interpersonal issues, but its almost never framed through the lens of "these kids are being neglected" or "the reason they're having interpersonal issues because of the neglect they suffer" because well. that's just not very cowabunga. that's not very Kids Show. why not just have Raph and Leo fight over being the leader or again or something that's still a conflict but its less existentially draining.

and like MAYBE there's a version out there, some obscure comic run or something, that addresses all these issues and gives me the catharsis I crave BUT UNTIL THEN I will continue redrawing childhood memories of my shitty family superimposed onto TMNT characters.

SORRY for this huge, loosely jumbled together ramble but you activated my tmnt abuse/neglect fixation trap card

#ask #tmnt #master splinter #long post

10 notes · View notes

pineappleciders · 1 year

Note

I just saw your OC drawings post and damn, they look cool! I'd love to hear more about them (if you want). :)

-🪐

erm. yes please.

tw for some maybe dark topics like eds and menyal health. also school shootings. also huge infodump wanring.

this is MAX hes 13 and i think they r my favorite. he is non binary and uses he/they and alex is his bff. theyre kinda like edd from eddsworld personality wise. like theyre the main character and kind but also sarcastic and likes to pull pranks. i love him so dearly. he is bisexual

he is african and has two moms. max is rolling with the lgbt. them and alex have a very sibling like bond as they met when they were young and maxs family took alex in as if she wwre their own. they didnt adopt her her parents r just so neglectful that they judt took care of her. they are the bestest friends ever.

max deals with a toxic relationship during thhe show (its basically this show i made up in my head so im gonna say show) whereas this guy takes advantege of them and it fucks them up big tome. and theo is sad the entire time because he has feelings for max. more about theo down below!!!!vv

the one on the left is alex!!! shes 13 she has black hair dyed pink on the ends and shes autistic and obsessed with bombs and shes trigger-happy. shes like kind of obsessed with violent stuff but she radiates sunshine and shes literally batshit insane but i love her. she is a lesbian as seen from this photo

she is half filipino and half mexican. her father is absent and her mom is lowkey neglectful as fuck. shes also missing an eye and wears an eye badnage rhing. she dealth with lots of bullying when she was younger and actually is very dangerous she shiuld be locked up.

one on the right is sam and shes a trans lesbian. she is really kind and nice and uust goes along with everyone, but she has like a dark side n lets her walls down around her gf alex and her friends. she struggles with mental health issues and is also autistic and has a hard time showing her emotiosn and speaking. she can be serious sometimes and its kinda scary how she switches from being dark and brooding to all nice and talkative. basically she masks super hard but shes a rlly good person i love her.

she has an eating disorder. i havent decided what one but she struggles with body dysmorphia and body dysphoria. she is struggling all over

she has dark dark brown locs with gold rings in them. she has dark skin and usually wears a yellow tank top, a purple jacket and blue jeans + white shoes. pastel color scheme

sam again ^

this is theo i have way more photos of him but im too tored to go get them. hes 14 and trans and gay and i lvor him. hes kind of the smart one think tom from eddsworld. he has a goofy side thoigh and really cherishes his friends. he is autisitc too and he behaves very differently from how he thinks. he doesnt mean to come off as rude and cold but he cant help it. basically i am projecting very hard. i love him.

he has grey hair and green eyes and tan skin. his mom is white and his dad is black so he is mixed. his roots are a dark brown

he has some family issues and lives in a low-income house. he is so cool thougj i love him.

basically theyre all Utistic and go on wacky adventures Nd theyre all frienfs. theres more characters in the story and i will post them when they get named. anyways ive made like a future au for them, there are two different 'endings'for the story ive deciided

basically one is like they all be normal and max starts a company and gets all successful and alex is like super tech savvy and mechanical so shes like a worker for him and he pays her and theyre like a business duo. and theo is like a successful scientist too and i think sam is something idk but i have a deisgn for her and shes all goth snd pretty but idk what she does in tje fuyute.

the other ending (bad endging warning!!) is alex (the really unstable and trigger happy one) loses it and shoots up their school. she goes to prison for a long time and max and her friends are really bretrayed. and then they meet in the future when she gets release and their friendship is never the same and. its justnlike really angsty and sad and it makes me sad and i feel like its mean to put them througj that so i consider the ending where they grow up happy as the canon one. i still like the idea of alex going crazy so ill probably make some stuff for that

anyways tjx for listening i LOVE my ocs and i never get to talk about them. probably gonna post them more because of this. this post took 30 minutes to weite

#autism posting #infodump #oc #original character #pineappleciders #original characters #my art #my oc art #my oc stuff #ranting

10 notes · View notes

mykinkyyandere · 1 year

Note

Strap in, this is going to be a long one folks.

This is a retelling of a fanfiction that was published many, many years ago. An OG. It's not available in English.

It's the story of a Minecraft Youtuber. He's successful, hard-working, generally well liked. One night he dreams - in this very realistic dream, he visits a Minecraft world he built some time back. Its astonishing! All his buildings come to live! Look how the hay is moving in the wind!

The real surprise is waiting in the house - his irl best friend is waiting for him... Waiting for his husband. Yap, they're gay in his dreams and it's everything he ever wanted. He sleeps a night in this dream, has a beautiful morning with his partner, looks after the sheep.

The protagonist returns to the real world after a creeper explosion. Over 60 chapters, he visits the world again and again. There seem to be rules - he only leaves the dream once he dies, but if he comes back no time has passed etc. etc. He finds books written by himself, the dream world has a whole backstory for him. It draws him in.

He starts spending less and less time in the real world. He sleeps for 24 hours, then stays awake for 24 hours. When he hangs out with his best friend, he can't enjoy it anymore. He neglects himself, his life, he worries people. And he lies. Even to the people he loves.

One day, he goes too far. He stays too long. He wakes up in the ambulance and then in the hospital. His friend is sleeping next to him. But the protagonist still returns to the dream world. His body is provided water etc. by an IV. So he can't die in the real world. He is kept alive by machines.

The fanfiction ends beautifully with him killing both his spouse and himself in the dream world by falling down a ravine. No pain, no panic. They would both be alive, would he ever return.

But he sees that the life he built in his dreams is not healthy. Living doesn't mean waiting to go to sleep nor is it staying alive by being hooked up to machines. And loving someone doesn't mean escaping to a dream to be with them, it's not making your best friend worry in real life. We later learn that the love interest visited every day while his friend was laying in a hospital bed.

So I caution you - escaping will never, ever fix the life you have here. You know that. But mixing the lines between reality and dream, even as an experiment, shouldn't be taken lightly. Life here is sometimes going to suck. But it also gets better. It's wonderful, and messy, and heartbreaking, and beautiful. It can be a gift. It gets better. I promise.

Wow, it was long but beautiful and sad. I appreciate it, thank you for this ♡ It seems so excited at first but then you realize how it actually ruins your life. Life is so fucked up and we all want to escape but we have to deal with our problems, not running away. I used to use lucid dreaming to escape. But even this had bad effects on me. I can't imagine how going to my dr would effect me. I would become extremelly addicted for sure. I must say despite all this, it managed to sound very distracting.

#kinkyyan answers

6 notes · View notes

mindrole · 3 months

Text

lately im properly keeping off my wrist, ive never had an injury (at least not from strain, ive hurt it def though, i got launched off a treadmill once when i was a kid) but i fear it, so i'm being vigilant. i'm fine tho. but its really boring cuz i usually doodle to fall asleep...

but i was thinking like, cell series character designs are really great, i think there's a wonderful uniqueness to them in the design philosophy, but

isn't everyone so difficult to draw....?!?!!! usually i feel like... after the first few times i don't need to pull up a reference anymore, but with the characters in this series no matter how many times, i still look up refs, btw did you know shinano has two tone hair? it's not a shadow.

shinano in fact is up there in difficulty... i think balancing his facial proportions is difficult... he should be so cutes and so adorables but he's not like, karen or izu. the hair is also kind of a challenge, namely his hair after he got a haircut.

the character i think is easiest to draw is ryuu. definitely. i've seen people say hatsutori is deceptively difficult to draw. i agree... even though i feel like by some miracle i understood how to draw him much better than others, he's REALLY hard!!!

the funny thing is, recently the last ryuu i draw, i said "i looked at a ref for once"? well its cause i usually ref my own art. usually it's fine. for ryuu who is easy for me to parse it's usually fine, but i realized recently the bangs were wrong the entire time, so i wanted to try being on model at least once (whether or not i apply it correctly next time is a big "maybe"). also i always draw the bunny ears too short, but that's usually something i am very conscious of (because it is a moe point that i hate that i neglect. MOE IS KING)

of course you'd think... well you draw miwa almost every day... you must be proficient in that? the answer is NO. in fact, he's the only character i am pulling up a picture from the actual game to draw almost every time. CONSISTENTLY. dita's look is easy enough to understand i guess, but the usual look, what's with those bangs?!?!?!!! WHY? i draw his bangs too long, but honestly that's not something i'm interested in rectifying. if anything, i've literally never seen anyone draw him 1:1 to the one picture we have, i feel like everyone struggles. genuinely have not seen any two artists draw him the same. so i am not worried about trying to be "on model". it's his fault for having such a weird wig in the first place. i mean, look, im gonna put it under a readmore and i genuinely want to know if you guys think it's fucked or not. i think it is. usually i have like, the one canon picture we have right, and then 3 of my drawings to ref how i did it, it's a struggle every time. but he's too funny. a character who haunts the interlude and doesn't have a single line in it, only ever talked in the one com report. so i keep drawing him because there's so many jokes to make at his expense. it's very cursed. i think having this blog made me a little obsessed.

for the dita look like i said in another post there's a lot of inconsistencies so i just take what i like. though for the most part i follow the design in the interlude. there's not much to comment about, aside from how i'm wondering where his ahoge is actually placed on his head. i just decide on the fly because i can't tell. it's not consistent between appearances. i won't talk about the scarf i'll start foaming at the mouth im not kidding

not even going into the characters i find near impossible like theodore. i'll cry. i'll be here all day. haruki is hard to draw too...

anyway, here's your serving of miwa's fucked up wig that haunt my nightmares every day because i hate drawing this hair so much:

i hope he DIES in com for this, is he stupid?

i hope everyone finds out he's 60+ years old and he has to hold a press conference apologizing for lying about being a recent ex-teenager

1 note · View note

libidomechanica · 1 year

Text

And so that arts for her neglected

A limerick sequence

Verse I

And so that art’s for her neglected. The eye: let they do not care sweet. My best pleasure. Through her Sleeve; or hastily rising against the heat of some few favour.

Verse II

On burdened sometime she floods drown his hearken to my cryes. You can tell me where I met you can hold on her lot. Can you were wont to grammer shape of your substance.

Verse III

And trembled. Alas, if you ain’t watched by the mind that sings: for nothing else to me. And human face … such heauen-stuffe to trace each seam gleams are eerie; and of your mind.

Verse IV

The fountain or their new hoe. On either night’s star of high heaven mix forever. Thus by it troubadour in search of frame, auise them spred a good at? Where with stars.

Verse V

Now clean but slip frae my mammy yet. For stars, those party to the heavy sky over answer ran, and my love, that, where Love, but i just a trickling roguish een.

Verse VI

This house, and morning, laughing thee a gloria victi. Had fall that is lord and much more praise is a water, warmth-given, and yet what gently even love them?

Verse VII

But see, known a screech owl to me. Her song of that thou’t love always snow she sees the sill and crossing against me out of beasts, vegetables in one wexen wider.

Verse VIII

No whit behint the waves rolling, they sing, but each evening. Who, will woodes bearest bands untwining? ’Tis na love a little ways. Puree, our eyes are listles sowed!

Verse IX

Though some untrue. The floor that she makes me sin awards gladde with great song shepherd, in the stood and ruddy, then me? When will soone ease me oft to leaves tipped by thy best!

Verse X

The window’d hear it. Its first spoken for a day, venus skies and laughter! Her hair. Face it may augment. Will I love to my hear me, now I thoughts and can return.

Verse XI

Ah, ah, ah! She had in her web she world away something is awake my heart is merry hae I behold, that payned, to have too many-tower’d Camelot.

Verse XII

This was he? The night, minstrel, abbot on an ocean, and along your yrksome yellow woods. That is born. Her for wings grandame Nature is as a clothe thing bloudie pain.

Verse XIII

On which thy hand by no other’s hand: and, when we met, jumping from his capricious hand of chess won’t done so, then would put underlids uplift, would not her shining?

Verse XIV

Where the mirror cleaues the chariots. But to faint! At they grief or with final retort have I not a turtle is as this is I, that’s sweeps. The rest. He was cold.

Verse XV

In a dreamed I was grave! I have done: mine eyes, stellar, we will drive all the greefe I dye, hey ho gray walls on the running Painter with no state be enviable.

Verse XVI

When being so long have look into that payne, and the tree, and all its dreamed I was your soul loves are cedar. That he find that leave my Delight; an’ she home again!

Verse XVII

I drop scent, the lips through—fire I cared forest born idiot’s, whose approach the Sisters breast to sights, for priefe. When Cloe noted her; yea, he is, voyd: and into thee.

Verse XVIII

About their Feet, she laid in our lips at him like two skeletons. Come without number where by side, leg overhead, we are a door, and through my obedience.

Verse XIX

Its hands which burns the summer, the glyder, that I by verse, my bird! Blythe inside, leg over Endymion’s strength forthright, where I lingered day when the south; blow the sun.

Verse XX

Though they speak. That Arm in Arm from his capricious hands her eyes. Depart from the hedge to me already five bar and if rymes with my beloved me leaves flashed.

Verse XXI

That we used to gather; for if it would admit. High and play. Which with his weigh, for a woman tis not to be before we parts mighty silver-shoed pale silver.

Verse XXII

Turn thy coatie, my love; behold his right— quick-changes and churchmen that liv’st but she can. Sang of mine but it is well of shame which in my epitaph a Poets name.

Verse XXIII

And draws thro’ the light, so loue, but are twine a musky Chain, that which burnt roundle neuer the boy’s palms tip toward light. Like a roe or a stone nor my finger ever.

Verse XXIV

That man has made, and to-day, oppress’d? Werther hair; lure of the Darkness at my arms, had it any been but mine eyes of the urge to her husband Jove, but in One.

Verse XXV

Give me to I was a desperate shot. Sets down to Camelot, the first Desire my Fall! On the shall soone ease me the night. What would light, vpon this of blood buy!

Verse XXVI

And bite back to the Ground. You stood, the valleys. The wanted to costume. In all the mass of his broad clear; and heretofore: he whose beautiful cries of purity.

Verse XXVII

The death a most true beauty grownde did starting her darlings! I dreams are fond eyes could never love you say you leapt some palace of thine? How begot, how oft soe’er them.

Verse XXVIII

To teach us how for young, I’m o’er young—sometimes in the shifts and I was ’ware, so long been to me? Sweet, I had rather, there with a wanton burnish’d hooves his deede.

Verse XXIX

Wide as a raven. I never hold, thy priests, lovers will I pray you, thou ever chanted loudly roar, how can Bagpipe, that’s absent, but that he finger on earth.

Verse XXX

The budding on it, best pleasure have please that spoil his moment is thee! Twas but add, jenny kiss that grows, sighing to upheave the Love, I tell my stupidity.

Verse XXXI

Wearing its grow, which on thrives; eschylus’ pen Willye his am’rous care. When bedded in sleep to correction no bitten into your flower enjoys the grossly dyed.

Verse XXXII

Here Iram Garden of flowers, washed up. As if God’s future done that can you see her abide by side, O sweet in case we coupled, so deep, dear Love, you will bee.

Verse XXXIII

And fall of pleasaunt spring. With roses and man’s the clefts of the clear; and thy love, for thee that smells, if not fair; thou this wife not sought me. He made when we do cry.

Verse XXXIV

An image picture of the villages, an abbot on an ocean, and thriftless breathe; but little he is gone, from Gaeta:— Shot.—Of the hedge to my mother’s fate!

Verse XXXV

To find him; I called townes do worke my loves and kiss the first louing stars go over suddenly grown serene of the lilies. And fulsome Pleasure by waters, poems!

Verse XXXVI

When I climbed higher beauties shining streams and old, but the death I bought, hey ho bonilasse, she saw the hushed my number. And puts out of fiery mighty men.

Verse XXXVII

Her breast. Sweets into my gain, the blue unclouded weathers viewing, to base the smell of those weake confirme: for ere she real rain, upon sockets of thy gay smiles brows.

Verse XXXVIII

Gambler throwing-distant land, my Queene. Adam, from fair to make him from suspicion, discontents on a velvet cheek toward man, that art can a woman is not blame.

Verse XXXIX

Yet I was long: and Viva l’ Italia! Wear the flowers your wrist is just a trifle more than public means while loud an’ she hasp of the shepherd’s-purse, blessed her.

Verse XL

She tells augment. And woman’s field, this forenoons driving waved that least, and dig deep into that come in forests. Till a’ the step my head and my love, to an end.

Verse XLI

Wit or with your misgiving Love speak? She has ears: sighs, and come in forests, long since the sun itself aloft, and to gather; and said: Thou art fair, my beloved.

Verse XLII

The hills. And strife, and in a woman becoming to the base of the seas between dreamed that loose that is it doth embrac’d, and dig deep recesses of frankincense.

Verse XLIII

The watching pad, somewhere the low sky raining on its good ointments do suggest light glow’d; on burden of this. On spirits thorns with Himself through through the seams the night.

Verse XLIV

For grammer who thine head she has twa sparkling roguish een. The lions’ dens, the city found favour or deformed’st creature is stronger to mine eyes were shades.

Verse XLV

If you a wreath’d trees look down the mind spills through the shepherd’s whistling into the Dambe. That hid I’m, you this house. Hast thou pleasing the lang! Of Indies would by other.

Verse XLVI

If such Diana stung! All in the care of what unusual heats, fainting lover’s time, you do not me? Come to the death crashing the topaz, opal, calcedon.

Verse XLVII

Tell me, O thou go wi’ motion make a sounds soothing somewhere, each puree, our glad and be together under hearts slave: blest be than you hurt her? Her waist, and I!

Verse XLVIII

For delight, The lonely as a straint,— one look’dst through all the lamp you can say and dry down she washing shade, while I run repetition! From whose beauty’s force in tracks?

Verse XLIX

Impassion make all folkes prest at the awake my own line, having sate; till in the wood, ye’re like purple; the keepe the left a bowl. To those weake confirme: for they stay.

Verse L

Mine eye that is lord and my hand in a Kirtle of this is no spot in nature escapes, were angry with awfull eyes, stella loue. Till my tongue, I saw the sky.

Verse LI

Of thine? The convulsive rapture all mark you for your black men waiting, and whoever in charactery, hold like the clicking souls strange in zero gravity.

Verse LII

What is bounding to use the weltering her the range bargain ye wad buy; but light. Made of the leaves clasped between the sternest movement broken so as foes commend.

Verse LIII

And night I cuddle my hart. Three more and pants as light. Ran up to the low sky raining, and blood to prevent wi’ mony a sin to tak me from me, for my sling.

Verse LIV

Sicker sike a crawl If you silent nigheth fast, how nourished? Which is complexion’d stars there shut up, a fountains, and I assure ye even the brighter near death.

Verse LV

Shall I ne’er declared in the changes like Lords whose joys of early, enshaded in Secresy blowing in dropping upon you. But kinda like there was perished?

Verse LVI

Me, both part of those that. You heard, twise them, and true, who has twa sparkling roguish een. I left hand of Absence been from off its little green sits no more;—Farewell!

Verse LVII

No fault of our margin’d rills. But sicke- bed lies sweets its thick eyelids at twenty, my laddie’s sapphires. I scatter on paths perilous; but in the view, the sons.

Verse LVIII

Shutting each other breast and yet the melodie The long-stemmed plants; each bending sight and the sun in flight. Of sands and find no more as I stood by her with hands before.

Verse LIX

Built her chant in the truth, take or lost? Their first to thy flow out, and never swell? Why show, that leave of chess won’t attack us here could not comets, we are slight move.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 6 #173 texts #limerick sequence

0 notes

jadegreenimmortality · 3 years

Note

hello! your header said requests are open so here i am 👉👈

if it’s okay, may i request hcs for atsushi when he just keeps accidentally (and unintentionally ofc) ignoring/neglecting his gf (or gender neutral if you wish) because of yk, ada detective stuff and exhaustion?? if possible angst to fluff or just overall hurt comfort pls :)

ive been going through smth similar with a close firmed so yeah haha

i hope you have a nice day or evening!😊

Atsushi accidentally neglecting his s/o

A/N: Heyyy dearest anon! Thank you so, so much for requesting, I am glad you deemed me worthy!!!! (ノ▽〃) I am truly sorry to get to this so late, my writing schedule is just not made for emergency comfort requests and I hope that whatever was going on with your close friend is long resolved by now. (≧≦) If not, this hopefully will bring you some comfort. <3

Pairings: Atsushi x gn! Reader

Genre: hurt to comfort

Warnings: angst, crippling self-doubt

Summary: Atsushi gets buried in work and doesn’t notice how this leads to him neglecting his s/o, until (y/n) has had enough of it. Fluffy ending.

Being the s/o of an ADA member in general is already hard. Any of them will work overtime regularly or just ignore regular work hours completely if need be. The burden to protect a whole city is heavy after all and you have to go to certain lengths to be able to do it justice.

But Atsushi is a very devoted s/o. Since you’ve stepped into his life, he’s been deeply thankful to have met you; even more when you became a couple. And although he has to deal with a high workload, he never failed to set time aside to spend with you. Until now.

You are used to him calling you in the late evening when he walks home to ask you about your day, only talking about his own day if you ask him to, because he doesn’t want to burden you with his matters. You are used to getting random texts throughout the day whenever he can spare a moment; asking you trivial things about your day or commenting on something he saw that reminded him of you. You are used to meeting up at least twice a week for lunch and spending most of the weekends together; you are used to having him close to you, even though his work keeps him physically away from you most of the time.

But lately, he barely calls you anymore. You start to feel a painful sting in your chest whenever you sit by the phone waiting even past midnight, hoping he might still call. Lately, his texts have gotten shorter and strangely impersonal; still peppered with emojis, but even seven differently coloured hearts can’t compare to a proper message with actual content after a week; lately, he’s been late to your lunch meetings or have been cancelling them altogether. In short, he’s been more and more absent.

At the start, you were just worried. Knowing his line of work, you were pretty positive he was working a bit too much lately, but you didn’t wish to burden him further by asking for his attention, which is why you didn’t express the accumulating sense of rejection and hurt which started to arise after weeks passed by with no changes in his behaviour.

And the continued absence started to get worse. After three weeks, he started to run late at Fridays, sending you a million “I’m so sorry’s” via text because he had, yet again, to work overtime. It’s fine, you told yourself, as you stared at the dinner you had prepared in your excitement to finally see him again, which would now get cold.

When he finally arrived, he looked exhausted. It made you forget the painful tightness in your chest for a moment. He looked just too pitiful, his face adorned by quite visible, blue-ish shadows under his eyes, his body slumped forward in the clear need of rest. When you hugged him, his reaction was weak and a yawn escaped his mouth the moment you leaned back. But his smile was as sweet and loving as ever, so you had mercy on the poor, tired soul and decided to draw him a hot bath. Maybe a bit of relaxing together in the bathub would lift his spirits, and you could just eat afterwards…

But when you came back to the living room, you found him fast asleep on the couch, one arm resting over his eyes to shield him from the ceiling light. You just didn’t have the heart to wake him up…even though you suddenly felt all alone again, his physical presence seeming only a weak replacement for actual time spend together.

The rest of the weekend made you largely forget your pain though. After a good night’s rest, Atsushi finally seemed to be back to his old self again: a cheerful, soft-mannered and caring boyfriend you could share your life with. You were hoping that there was no need to bring up the matter anymore. And he didn’t bring it up either; he didn’t notice the way your smile faltered when he mentioned how much word he had to do lately.

Your hopes were in vain. The week following that one was the worst yet. You barely got a text a day, some of them purely emojis, and you didn’t meet to eat lunch together even once. You felt yourself get close to the point of despair – not that your happiness depended on him, but could you even call him your boyfriend when he seemed to have forgotten that you existed? The hurt and pain started to get slowly replaced by anger and a subtle, yet very persistent fear of abandonment. You felt guilty for thinking about him this way – sweet, kind Atsushi, deep down you knew he would never neglect you consciously - but it was still getting harder and harder for you to remember.

The breaking point came on Friday. Even though it felt cynical, you already didn’t expect Atsushi to be on time – but you didn’t expect him to send you a text (a text!!) saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it and he’d come over the next day. It was the exact moment you finished reading the message that you lost it.

Something inside you – the dam holding in all the different emotions that build up over the past few weeks – crumbled. Your next actions were purely impulsive, logical thinking reduced to tired little speck in your mind.

You dialed Atsushi’s number. As he picked up, you didn’t leave the man even half a second to greet you and just sobbed into the phone: “Please come over. Now.”

Yes, sobbed. You didn’t register when the tears started to flow over and stain your face, but now you were trembling from the uncontrolled hiccups that interrupted your words.

And then you hung up.

Atsushi was on your doorstep 15 minutes later and ringing the doorbell like a maniac.

He was close to panicking. He was talking to Kunikida before he got the call, who witnessed his face turn paler than the moon after you hung up. Atsushi was in clear distress and proceeded to bow deeply, sputtering something about being very sorry and making it up to the older colleague, then spurting out of the room without even taking his bag with him. Kunikida didn’t dare to interfere.

Now, Atsushi has had his fair share of clashes with rivaling organizations already. He has witnessed people getting held hostage, kidnapped and threatened, including himself. So of course that is where his mind goes after receiving your call and when he arrives, he’s in a state of mind close to panic.

Imagine his relief when you open the door shortly after, physically unharmed. He grabs you by the shoulder, looking you up and down to check for any injuries. The relief only lasts a split second though because as he takes a close look at your face, his eyes widen in shock.

He doesn’t need his emotional radar to realize that something is wrong with you. Your eyes are puffy and red from all the crying, your cheeks are stained from the endless stream of tears and your lower lip is still trembling when you open him the door. You see his expression change from alert and highly worried to a second of relief and then to deeply worried again. It’s touching, really, and you are thankful to see the man you love still care about you as much as you care about him, but right now, you are too upset to let that be enough.

“(y/n)? What happened? What’s wrong??”

You drag him into the living room while he tries to find out what has happened, confused and unsettled by your behaviour. The whole situation is giving him a high level of anxiety as he feels the urgent need to ease whatever pain you are going through and, at the same time, starts to get the vague, yet suffocating feeling that he missed something terribly important.

As you sit him down on the couch and take a seat in front of him, he’s already desperately wracking his brain to understand what he could’ve done wrong, and the more he struggles to understand, the worse his desperation gets. This man is inclined to blaming the whole world’s suffering on himself and seeing his partner in such distress without understanding is already torture to him – especially as you won’t react to his questions at all.

As you start talking, his hands are folded in a cramped up position in front of his body to keep them from trembling.

At first, you manage to keep your composure while you recount what has happened. He listens attentively and eager to understand; and as the terrible realization dawns on him what had led to your current state, it doesn’t take him long to fall into an emotional pit of self-hate for not noticing his negligent behaviour. While you keep talking, you can observe how he lowers his head to avoid your gaze, hands clasping into tight fists on his knees.

He’s in a state of shock, caught between the terrible blame he’s putting upon himself and the need to somehow, in any way, make it up to you. He’s terribly afraid this may be the end of it; of your relationship, your love, everything the two of you had. He has disappointed you, he has proven to be unreliable and useless after all – that’s what the voice in his head, wearing the face of his old orphanage caretaker, is telling him.

Somewhere midway through your recount, the tears start flowing again. Even in his state of turmoil, Atsushi’s emotional radar registers your current mood swing. He automatically lifts a hand to wipe your tears away - only to have you slap it away.

You’re both shocked from your outburst of emotion, and you feel guilt spike as you see the evident hurt on his face, knowing well that he doesn’t bode well with violence in the domestic environment. That is when the anger finally dissolves and leaves back nothing but pain and the dreaded loneliness inside of you. You struggle to finish your monologue between hiccups and recurring sobs, now talking about how it all made you feel and how you didn’t want to burden him further by asking for more attention. You keep your head low, struggling not to break down physically, all the emotion that busted out of you leaving you empty and exhausted.

In the meantime, Atsushi’s mind is screaming at him. Your slap dragged him out of his shock-induced paralysis, but his head won’t stop spinning around the same questions. He made you suffer with his behaviour and he didn’t even notice. How could that happen? How could he let it go this far?

It’s only when stop talking that he dares to talk. For a few seconds, a heavy, cold silence falls over the room, nothing to be heard but both of your tears hitting the sofa. Then:

“I’m sorry.”

His voice sounds like a crumbled piece of paper, barely audible as he chokes on his words.

“I know that there is nothing I can say to make this up to you. I can see in terrifying clarity that I messed up. I just hope that there is something that I can do for you to forgive me.”

That’s were his voice starts trembling.

“I know I am not worthy of your love anymore, but I will do everything in my power to make it up to you, even if that there’s nothing I can offer you -”

By this point, Atsushi is crying too. His tears are almost silent as he muffles his sobs, not wanting to make you feel guilty for making him cry.

What he doesn’t know is that your angers has long dissipated by now. The moment he dares to lift his gaze, whole body slightly shaking from the hold-in sobs, that you realize all of this isn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want to yell at him, berate or tell him what a horrible boyfriend he has been. You didn’t want him to look so hurt, or guilty, or fearful. You just wanted him to acknowledge you again, to remember to text you, to feel his affection and love and be able to show him yours. You can’t deny that it makes you feel relieved to see him have such a strong emotional reaction though – a tiny part of you is satisfied to see how much he does indeed care for you. But this is no reason to keep him suffering.

You cut him off with a hug. It may be a simple gesture, but as you lean forward and wrap your arms around his slender shoulders, you can feel how his tense body slumps forward, falling into the embrace. Don’t get me wrong, his thoughts are still spinning 180 miles an hour and his eyes widen with the sudden gesture of love, but his body knows instinctively what it wants, how much he longed for your embrace.

“Eh? (y/n)?” – “It’s okay, Atsushi. I’m so sorry that I yelled at you…it’s alright now. I’m sorry, this is not how I wanted this to end.”

Your voice is just as shaky as his and as your equally tired body sinks against him and you press your tear-stained cheek against Atsushi’s, he’s finally able to relax. He wraps his arms around you and presses you against him in a most desperate manner, one hand buried in your hair, one on your back.

You stay like that seemingly forever, listening to each other’s heart beats, buried in each other’s warmth while you calm down. You finally start to feel again what you’ve been craving the last weeks: the safety, the closeness and the trust in Atsushi’s love and care for you. And you’re determined to make him feel the same.

So when you peel out of his strong grip, you proceed to take his hands in yours and lean your forehead against his, steadying him physically first. You continue with trying to steady him mentally second, repeating that you love him and you only felt so hurt because you feared he may be starting to lose interest in you. You assure him that this does not bring you even close to the end of your relationship and that every couple has fights of the sort, yes, even ones this bad. You repeat this again and again, until you can see the of hope in his eyes that you were waiting for.

Even though things have calmed down now, the two of you stay up all night. You started with changing into more comfortable clothing and ordering take-out. When it arrives, you sit down at the couch instead of the table, craving each other’s closeness. You snuggle up under a cosy blanket and eat, silently basking in each other’s presence.

After finishing your meal and feeling a bit recovered, you start talking again. You remind him that, even though your current emotional struggle is solved now, the problem at hand isn’t, asking him to be less compliant at the agency and not accept every task that may significantly extend his working hours.

You both know that it will be a struggle for him; of course it will, as a part of him still believes his level of helpfulness to measure his worth in the world. But he understands now that he can’t comply to everything if he wants to keep his life together and he’s determined not to let something like this happen ever again. He still feels guilty, he still feels like he failed at being your boyfriend, but after your reassurances, these feelings are more of an incentive for him to better himself. All of this he says out loud, smiling cautiously, but with the warmth you do love so much.

He promises to work less and put more time aside for you again. After you thank him, he asks you shyly for a favour in return: to approach him faster if you ever notice similar behaviour to happen again.

“I don’t want you to have to suffer through the same thing ever again.”

If you needed any last proof that he means it, this is it. You can’t do anything but reach forward to grab his face and give him a short, yet loving kiss. It’s only after that that you whisper in response:

“Only if you promise the same.”

194 notes · View notes

chloe-online · 3 years

Note

you're making me want some stuff about karl with a teenage daughter or son, mayhaps he has fraternal twins and they're now GROWN. like. what kinda dad would he be to his teens in your eyes? 😳

im sorry this took so damn long. i have a commitment issue when it comes to writing, I have like 12 drafts just sitting waiting for me to finish them. I'm sorry if this isn't what u wanted either. i hope you enjoy anyway!

i think hed be a great father nonetheless but something in me is telling me he'd treat his daughter differently than if he had sons. I'll write for both in the form of headcanons because i haven't been writing and I feel bad.

Fraternal Daughters:

- he'd love his daughter literally so fucking much omfg. like more than alcina loves hers.

- he'd be protective over them but to an extent, they're allowed to live their teenage lives but they just have to be careful.

- he wouldn't force them to stay away from boys, but he does want to meet any boyfriends they do have, and he wants you to be careful. make sure that they arent being used, and hed always ask them how their relationship is.

- he would want them to stay away from drinking. especially at parties, he fears of what would happen if they drank too much and some asshole used her. of course when they're in their late teens (16, 17ish) he'd love to be able to sit down and have a few drinks with them.

- he would definitely be in on a lot of tea parties, and hed be playing with a concerning amount of dolls, but his daughters always have amazing ideas when it comes to playing with dolls.

- KARL IS AMAZING AT TUCKING IN HIS DAUGHTERS AND GIVING THEM A GOOD NIGHT KISS ON THE FOREHEAD OMGGVYG

- depending on their personalities hed be a little dork by teasing them, and saying snarky things, but if they arent the type that welcomes that kind of behaviour that's fine too.

- he loves his daughters so much and he expresses that by hugging them, feeding them, playing with them, spoiling them with homemade toys, taking them on wild adventures, and just helping them grow into strong, capable adults. he's quite amazing.

Fraternal Sons:

- while a lot of what has been said for the daughters counts for his sons they'd still get treated differently.

- HE STILL LOVES HIS SONS SO MUCH LIKE MORE THAN ALCINA AND HER DAUGHTERSSS HGVBRJE

- again he's a protective guy, so hed let them ride out their teen years while placing down some rules.

- he wouldn't encourage them to go out and date girls but he'd be accepting just as long as they are old enough to understand what love really is. again he wants them to be careful, he wouldn't want his boys taken advantage of. he wants to meet any girlfriends of course and would ask how their relationship is going.

- again, stay away from drinking at parties. karl knows how neglected guys were to sexual assault so he wanted to make sure his sons were safe. drinking at home with him and his wife would be allowed, encouraged even.

- he would be watching a lot of superhero movies and playing with a crapton of action figures. he would melt when/if his sons were to make drawings and stories about him being a superhero and his metal powers were his superpowers. hed feel less insecure.

- karl would make things for them out of metal for sure, and hed buy things for them that he couldn't make. he def plays catch with both his sons.

- he'd be a tease and tease them in a very loving way, but if they didn't like it he would stop immediately.

- he really loves his sons and would be doing his best to help them with any bottled up feelings and mold them into adults.

either or:

- no matter the gender he will spoil them. he wants them to be happy.

- he will take care of you in anyway he needs to. his children are his little bundles of joy.

- he will help them study for school. he'll even teach himself how to do whatever they're learning so he can help.

- their mental health will be worked off if its bad. no question about it.

-he WILL NOT tolerate any use of illegal substances. same with any crimes. he refuses to raise a criminal. but he will try his best to help them stop doing whatever illegal thing they're doing but he'll only go so far after getting pushed away multiple times.

- he'll love his children no matter what, nothing can change that <3

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. idk why but ive been unmotivated to write. this was written over the span of a few days and I was very distracted so if its kinda all over the place apologize. i hope u enjoyed!

#house heisenberg #heisenfam #karl heisenberg x you #heisenberg x you #heisenberg headcanon #lord heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #headcanon #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #resident evil village #resident evil #re8 #heisendaughters

63 notes · View notes

tiens-letters · 3 years

Text

upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past

zhongli (angst)

@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe

Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.

Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.

Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.

It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.

He felt exhausted. Desultory even.

Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.

Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.

The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.

You.

He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.

Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.

"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.

"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.

"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his

"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him

"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.

After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.

"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him

"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."

"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him

"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"

"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.

"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.

"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.

"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"

"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him

"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."

However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.

"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze

"Thats better."

He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.

Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.

Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.

He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.

Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening

" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.

"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of

" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."

"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white

You slapped him.

With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.

"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them

"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips

"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."

To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.

But of course, all things are evanescent.

The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.

"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.

He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.

Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."

To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.

Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.

He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.

The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.

The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.

It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.

"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant

"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."

Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhonglixreader #genshin impact drabbles #zhongli angst #morax

134 notes · View notes

peachy-inserts · 4 years

Text

𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕘𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟/𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜 - 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣, 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝟜

✰warnings: mentions of pregnancy ✎a/n: ok mod josie here and im going to be completely honest.. this is the first actual smut ive ever written and i didnt proof read it because im embarrassed and im not happy with how it turned out PLEASE be gentle with me im very scared also more under the cut

➳ɪᴡᴀɪᴢᴜᴍɪ

══════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ══════

The bedroom is hazy, fuzzy. It’s almost as if it’s clouded your vision, the heat from both of your bodies overwhelming and contributing to the change in atmosphere. Iwaizumi’s hands are finding every part of your body, sliding down slowly to your supple thighs just to give them a quick squeeze and travel back up towards your neck, where he lingers for a moment before deciding tonight isn’t the night, not for choking, at least.

No, tonight he’s going to get you pregnant, and he at least wants it to be special. He’s already prepared for the aftercare, going out of his way to make sure you have to do as little as possible while you fucks you senseless and stuffs you full with his cum time and time again so that there’s no possible chance of not getting it on the first try

You’ve only just gotten home a few moments ago, still fully dressed and yet already a shaking mess beneath him, a devilish glint in his eyes that suits his smirk all too well, satisfied with your wide eyed anticipation that you always seem to reward him with before you’ve even begun. It really gets him going. There are no words, but only an intimacy that leaves you feeling completely overheated and yet as if your whole body is relaxed, even despite knowing that he’ll have you in a mating press before too long; you know from experience it’s worth the aching joints, though.

He ghosts his fingertips along the curve of your breast under your buttoned shirt, laughing to himself and retreating his touch when you lean into him, begging for him to finally do something, anything.

“Please-”

“Please what?”. He cuts you off, grinning, looking down at you with what could almost be interpreted as malice, but you know him better than that. You know it’s just an act for him, he only does this because you enjoy it so much.

“Aren’t you gonna stop fucking teasing me, Haji?”.

He huffs, thinking to himself for a moment before pressing you backward onto the sheets so you’re lying down, and places soft open mouthed kisses along your jawline all the way down to your collarbones, carefully undoing the first few buttons in doing so. “You’re so impatient, you know that?”, he whispers against your skin, and the hotness of his breath is arousing. He notices the way your heart thumps within your chest against his lips and laughs to himself yet again.

“It’s only been a few moments, and I bet you’re already soaked for me, aren’t you? I bet you were thinking about this all day.. Coming home and letting your man fuck you so good, put his baby right in you…”. Iwaizumi’s hands finally travel back down your body, grazing across your thighs and gently prodding at your clothed cunt, rubbing light circles into your work pants until he can feel them dampening beneath his touch, to which he immediately stops, only to run his thumb over your lips so you part them for him and force his now scented fingers into your mouth while the other hand softly caresses your cheek, tucking stray hairs behind your ear.

“I knew it. It doesn’t take much for you, does it, baby?”. Hesitantly, you nod, careful not to accidentally bite his fingers in the process, although he’s much gentler in his ministries than usual. With his tapping against your cheek, you know to let his digits go, and a trail of saliva is left running down your chin, and a cold chill runs down your spine despite the heat consuming your body.

Before you know it, he’s discarded your shirt and left you topless save for your bra, although it’s not long before he’s made quick work of it, too, and your torso is completely exposed before him. It’s a little unfair given that he’s still fully dressed, but you know it won’t be long before he gives in and strips down to nothing. A calloused hand circles your nipple until its erect, and he clambers onto the bed to take the bud into his mouth, tongue swirling around it with little kitten licks and biting down on it every few moments just to make you jump, and you’re whining beneath him, it’s so good and yet not enough-

“Don’t be so greedy”. He swats your hand away and releases your breast with a pop when you try removing your pants, only to do it himself in a contradictory fashion. Iwaizumi looks you up and down, his breath hitching and a sudden pang in his chest. You’re going to look so fuckiing good carrying his child, stomach swole out with his seed and breasts heavy with milk, bigger than they had ever been before

He can feel his cock twitch in his pants.

His body moves on its own, and he's situated himself above you with his elbows on either side of you, a knee prodding at your heat and teasingly rubbing against the fabric of your panties, wet in excitement and anticipation. Iwaizumi’s lips find your own in haste and he’s eagerly pulling you closer to him, hand returning to your breast to squeeze and fondle the one he has previously neglected while the other remains pert and slick with his saliva. He’s becoming feverish, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it before he pulls away for air, panting, chest heaving, just to dive straight back in with an open mouthed kiss. His tongue is swiping at your red and swollen lips, and when he twists your nipple you moan against him, and he licks the back of your teeth, his wet muscle finding every sweet spot of your mouth and eating it up with delight so you’re whining below him.

“Hajime-”. You’re fucking desperate now, wanting nothing more than for him to fill him up the way he does, so good each and every time, his cock too fat to ever miss those sweet spots inside of you that always having you seeing stars.

“I know, I know sweetheart”. He’s quick to undress, and although your view is obscured by your current position, you’ve come to recognize the sound of his belt thumping against the floor, the metal piece always clinking with the hard wood below.

His rough fingertips are grazing along the sensitive skin of your thighs, and he tugs your panties down slowly, revelling in the string of slick that pulls from it until finally breaking contact and running down to your ass. God, he can’t stand it; you’re always so perfect for him, always getting yourself nice and ready for his dick.

Iwaizumi positions himself just before your entrance, his cock painfully hard. The head is red with blood and throbs against his palm as he strokes the prominent vein that runs along the underside of his girth. He’s trim, well cut and fit, and you find yourself pink in the face as your eyes dart across his trained abs, a happy trail just below down to his well groomed and massive cock. His sensitive slit you’ve always found a way to take advantage of is oozing with precum, and he rubs it against your thighs before using the head to tease your swollen clit. Your hips buck at the touch, abused lips parted as a low whine escapes them.

His fist guides himself along your glistening folds, and a growl resonates in his chest and the slick feeling. He lines his head up with your hole, and you grip his arm in preparation. Slowly, tantalizingly slowly, he pushes into your little cunt, pushing your walls apart and coating him in a sheen of white. He hisses as you clench around him like a vice, nearly losing control and rutting into you at full force.

“Fucking shit, babe, fuck”. Iwaizumi grunts, and he repositions himself so that one hand is gripping the headboard above you while the other keeps you pinned below him. Finally, he bottoms out within you, and begins a slow and shallow pace. Your sweet little moans fuel him and before he knows it he’s thrusting into you at a relentless pace. You hardly have any time to comprehend what’s happening, head bobbing at the force he’s beating into your tight little with a rhythm and high pitched whines your only capable form of speech.

“H-Haji!”. Your words are slurred, and you bite your tongue as he ruts into you particularly hard. His cock is ripping you apart, your sweet cunt wrapped around his base in a way that’s downright pornographic, your hands wrapped around his neck and nails digging into his back, scratching the skin and drawing blood, but he doesn’t slow down

With every thrust he’s hitting the tip of your cervix, and it hurts but god, it also feels so fucking good. The bed shakes and headboard smacks against the wall, but it’s hardly audible beneath the lewd sound of your his clashing, his balls slapping your skin while your own cum leaks out around him, dripping down his thighs

He grunts, having no words left to speak in losing himself in the feeling of how fucking amazing you feel, walls fluttering around his length and your breasts bouncing with his every move, and he thinks again about how perfect you would be carrying his child. Your pussy is aching, and the sensations are overwhelming. His hips grind against your neglected clit only a few times, and yet it’s enough for you to unravel around him.

You gasp, trying to sputter out a warning, an indication, but he’s pounding into you so fucking hard and the noises of your own juices squelching around him are so prominent that it doesn’t matter anyways. Your pussy flutters around him and your walls clamp around him like a vice, and he hisses at the sudden tightness and grips the board above you so tight his fingernails are marking the soft wood, no different from the way your own leave scratch marks down his back. Your back arches causing your hips to catch against his own, and the friction is unbearable. He only pounds harder, faster, fucking you through your release and chasing his own high, leaving you overstimulating and squirming beneath him. You try to wriggle your way free, but his hands have moved to pin you down.

Just as you’ve finally began to feel the first aftershocks of your orgasm, Iwaizumi tugs you forward by the waist, sheathing himself balls deep with one final thrust, and paints your abused little cunt white with his seed, breathing heavily inches away from your face.

With a languid sigh, your body sinks into the mattress and you finally relax, and after a moment of stillness, he finally pulls out, making sure to keep every last bit inside of you so it doesn’t go to waste. Iwaizumi rolls over onto his back just beside of you, pulling you into his arms and rubbing at the knots in your lower back from the position he’d help you in. You were going to be so good to your kids, so kind and nurturing.

And he couldn’t wait.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi fanfic #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hc #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi insert #hajime iwaizumi #mod josie #kinktober #hq #haikyuu #scenario

306 notes · View notes

sapphicwhxre · 3 years

Note

tiny pansy rant, cut short so it’s *hopefully* not too long:

i. wanted. to. see. her. change! and in my opinion the reason she never got the chance was because jkr used her character to make fun of people she disliked :/

pretty much all the other noteable slytherins had some sort of redemption arc,, and yeah they’re still mostly problematic people but they got chances: snape, draco, narcissa, regulus, slughorn, leta and technically andromeda? you get the point i just—

like miss ma’am decided to make pansy,, the like slytherin stereotype? and have her want to betray harry? she was seventeen ffs, not bellatrix lestrange. she was in the middle of a war? in my personal opinion i don’t think that she wanted to hand harry over out of cruelty like. it’s possible? but maybe she was just scared? also don’t we know that pansy was terrified at the thought of like. voldemort coming to hogwarts? again: everyone expects all of the children in harry potter to be these selfless brave individuals,, they’re kids :( yes ik it’s ya fantasy but cmon. they were supposed to be stressed about the N.E.W.T exams not the upheaval of their society?

and don’t get me wrong i know that she was. not a good person. she was a bitchy teenage bully who was taught hateful views. but i wanted to see her change even a little– even draco marries someone who presumably teaches him how to treat people equally? like. there was so much room for change: she was a prefect, she was capable of some kindness seeing as she liked draco, or alternatively, we could’ve seen her break away from draco and potentially stop hating harry/all his friends quite so much or develop her own opinions. or maybe her group of friends that she used for validation throughout her school years was uprooted during the war and she had to learn that independency? or her pointing out harry could’ve been turned into trying to be selfless, like she thought they’d be safe that way, or she returned later fighting with reinforcements to show she was on Hogwarts’ side. jkr is always like "well they technically came back to fight, if you squint » but that’s not enough. also? let’s say we did get a glimpse of her during the actual battle: there could’ve been anything, the smallest scene, that showed some sort of support or reconciliation or something between her and hermione, considering how hermione was often pansy’s target. everybody wants to see forgiveness between draco and harry because of minor events/details (i dislike drarry but that’s besides the point), but imagine what could’ve changed with some semblance of apology or assistance from pansy to hermione. there were so many chances for r*wling to give her a smallest redemption

but instead we got her characterized as evil and a stupid, cowardly traitor. she the only person we ever see her care for marries her friends younger sister. she’s the written depiction of jkr’s bitterness and her arc is jkr’s vengeance.

also, another reason that i’m so mad she got nothing is because of the whole slytherin=evil thing. she’s made into a stereotype of a “slytherin”— cruel, selfish, shallow, ugly, and asinine. (also i could rant about slytherin forever, but can we just mention that jkr consistently refers to slytherins as physically ugly and just how fucked up that is? i– wtf). but anyway: to give pansy a chance to change is to give the slytherin house a chance to change its reputation. trying to justify that the slytherin house got its redemption because of the actions of ppl like snape or regulus, etc isn’t possible. because all of those “slytherin heroes” were described again and again as being “different from all the other slytherins”. they set themselves apart by being decent. they weren’t normal slytherins, no, they were set apart, they were brave and smart and kind— not evil. there’s no redemption to be found there. i wish jkr would just fucking say that being sorted into slytherin was being made into a villain. she dodged around it with rhetorical questions and pointing out how not All of them are bad,, and then will go on to mock the other slytherins and talk about how the heroes were Not Like The Other Snakes... again: there’s no redemption of slytherin as a house, as a quality, as a concept there. it’s just the redemption of an individual.

in pansy, however, we could’ve found so much more. like i said, she’s The Average Slytherin: not a hero, not a villain like voldemort. she’s made out to be a depiction of the typical slytherin student, one without a “destiny”, so to speak. and so to give her the chance, to see her change, to have her redefine herself? that would be a starting point for restoring slytherin as a whole (obviously not the best way, and the real best thing to do would be not to make an entire house be the bad guys in the first place, but–) to have someone who’s the figurehead of slytherin (like actually a figurehead,, girl is a even a prefect) show remorse and growth gives the entire house the seed of redemption. it would mean that after over a thousand years there could be peace between the houses. obviously not the only factor in reconciliation but still so important.

and not to just continue to heap on my own issues with it, but look. i know that there are so many other ways to introduce “mundane” antagonists without making them a symbol of anything. pansy could’ve been a bitch without representing slytherin. also pansy doesn’t have to break character and become kind for amends to be made. they don’t even have to be fully made, just started. but jkr chose to:

a.) go with bullying as a minor antagonistic element

b.) create and develop a character around that theme

c.) make this character only based on her own negative personal experiences

d.) turn that character into a representation of a much larger group of people

e.) deny that character any final moment that could begin to make amends for her actions and instead, chooses to make her “defining” moment an act of evil and cowardice

f.) either neglects the character or chooses plot points that would humiliate the character in all the glimpses of the future we are shown (ex. how dracos marriage is)

g.) openly mocks and insults the character repeatedly and never directly comes out and proves she didn’t write slytherins as evil

h.) to the best of my knowledge, ignores that pansy personifing slytherin, whether intentionally or unintentionally, and then characterizing both as “bad” and not giving them a chance to grow, is a summary of her thoughts on slytherin ls and is a possible interpretation of the text (i mean her opinions are already TRASH)

i. ignores the consequences of this or the possible effect it has on her entire fanbase and doesn’t seek to remedy it

but yeah, jkr, it was such a good idea to base a character off of your loathesone memories, take your anger out on her, and that choose to have that character partially represent a large percentage of your fanbase. thank you sooooo much. i really appreciate it!

summary:

I. Pansy— deserved an opportunity to have some character development. everyone else’s mistakes get overlooked to some degree save hers. had so many places to draw inspiration/opportunity from. could’ve progressed other ideas in the book and the analysis of her house while still remaining a “dislikable” character

II. Writing— from a “technical?” aspect, Pansy is underdeveloped and stagnant, used for personal reasons instead of as a plot device. perpetuates the slytherin=bad idea via a sloppy and repetitive characterization and emblem. there are ways around this that weren’t used.

III. I have no qualifications to be saying any of this lmao. Am I reading to much into it, knowing that Rowling tends to be shitty with writing details? Am I being dramatic and repetitive? probably!

IV. Fuck JKR (for everything. she’s an awful person)

anyways this has been: my mini-rant on pansy and her analysis,,, and i am terribly sorry,, i offer my apologies in advance for randomly dumping this into your inbox. it’s long and opinionated and there’s no real reason behind it! i just thought of it and then thought about it some more and then. here we are

ilysm mwah <3 should’ve definitely done something more productive but shh😭 rat brain hours

this is everything, you're completely right. i don't have much to add but i agree all the way. and people give pansy so much shit for the harry thing but she seemed genuinely scared of voldemort coming back and i really think that she believed he would leave them alone if they gave him up. from her perspective, it's either her and the people she cares about get to live or this guy that she not only isn't close to but probably sees as the bad guy considering she dated/was best friends with draco and witnessed their rivalry from his side. did she make the best decisions? no, not at all but i see her reasons and i don't think it makes her this antichrist that jkr makes her out to be. she pulled the “he's just a boy” with draco and had people sympathise with him when he did so so much worse than pansy did so why doesn't that apply to her? she's a kid. they all are. i love harry, ron, and hermione SO MUCH but jkr really said fuck everyone who isn't them ─ especially any girl who isn't her precious hermione. she projected her own pettiness onto fictional characters who are CHILDREN and proceeded to get upset when people connected to and loved other people that she herself made. creating such an underdeveloped character and expecting people to hate her just because she imagined her as her bully is beyond immature and ridiculous. anyways. jkr take a fucking chill pill and leave my girl alone.

#pansy parkinson

62 notes · View notes

yurtletheturtlehenderson · 3 years

Text

ɴᴏ ғᴇᴇᴛ || Ben Hargreeves

Weddings and Funerals ✦ part iv

Years after they rose to fame as young crime-fighting superheros, the estranged Hargreeves siblings come together to mark their father's death.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Y/n feels Ben's chin burrow deeper into the crook of her neck; his legs bounce over her wrists as she carries him down the stairs on her back. They reach the kitchen just as Klaus places the urn containing what remains of the late Sir Reginald on the dining table, and Y/n glances over her shoulder at her boyfriend.

"You have to carry me next time," she wagers, meeting his eye.

His pouty, tired face is still tucked into her shoulder as she looks at him but he nods. "Fair enough,"

Satisfied with his sincerity, she releases him and he falls to the ground with a small thump.

For as long as she could remember, and long before her introduction to the Umbrella Academy at a very young age, the young woman had quite a handy - and oddly specific - advantage gifted to her with her powers, just like the rest. Her gift, as Reginald had taught her overtime, could help her in more ways than she could possibly imagine. Not only could she transform into whatever shape she could possibly conceive in her mind's eye, she could manipulate her very DNA at will. This included, in theory, giving herself the powers of the others, and even further, though she really only managed two; Luther's superstrength was something she managed to find when she hacked into her muscle tissue, and Ben's... more unique abilities were simple enough for her cells to replicate.

Anything else beyond that, well, it was the very reason she always suspected she had never earned an official spot among the Umbrella Academy despite all those chances she was given. Or a spot in the family. Though as time crept on, she grew thankful for the latter. Ben and Y/n grew immensely closer in their shared trauma after the incident. Besides Klaus, well... They only had each other. Life had ended for them both on that mission all those years ago, and yet, here they were.

Ben moved around to Y/n's side, heaving a heavy sigh as Klaus retrieved a baggie from his coat pocket.

"Klaus, you can't keep doing this to yourself," he scolds.

Klaus watches with trained eyes as several pills slip from the baggie and into his waiting palm and he pauses, mulling over his brother's words.

"You're right," he says, drawing uncertain shock on the couple's faces. "It's not healthy, and the more I do it, the more I hurt the people I care about."

Y/n and Ben share a quizzical look before eyeing Klaus over yet again, watching him carefully. He grasped the pills in his palm now, clutching them tight to his chest as he sent a somber look down at the tile floor.

"Here I am; thirty years old and still talking to the ghosts of my dead loved ones!" He exclaims, putting on yet another doleful act.

'There it is,' The pair thought.

"I need t-... to move on!" He hiccups, still much too inebriated from his last glass. "It's what they would have wanted."

"Oh, fuck this day," Y/n grumbled to herself, fingers pinching the bridge of her nose as she turns to stalk off to nowhere.

Ben, who shares his partner's frustrations, crosses his arms and stares his brother down.

"Cut the shit Klaus," He scorns. "For once in a really long time, you have the others around to help you again."

Klaus finally drops the act, though he doesn't seem keen on listening to the man's advice. He cocks a brow, a pathetic chuckle breaking through his lips as he tests Ben's pitiful attempt at a pep talk.

"Oh, you're so right, Ben," he slurs, voice dripping with sarcasm. He half-heartedly gestures to the stairwell through which they had all come from. "Now tell me, w-who do you think's dyin' to drive me to rehab, hmm? The-" another hiccup. "-warm ball of funshine vigilante, our dear sisters who want nothing to do with me who consist of a movie star with a kid and a divorce on the way, and the one we all neglected, or, OR - and here's the real kicker, the one the- that just accused us all of murdering our father, hmm?"

"Klaus-"

"No, no, save it," Klaus pouts, grabbing a whiskey bottle he found on a nearby shelf and clutched it tight to his chest. He plopped himself down on the dining table, coddling the whiskey bottle close to his chest like a doll. "Nobody wants me around-nobody wants to deal with my shit, but that's fine."

Y/n and Ben share another worried look.

He throws his head back as he does the pills, downing them with a swig from the bottle. This brings on an apprehensive wince from the duo but he ignores it, sending them a bright smile.

"'Cause I got my own ghosties to play with!" He cheers, adjusting himself on the table and laying on his back releasing a satisfied groan.

Exasperated, Y/n turns to Ben and gestures to Klaus who is now splayed out with his back on the table. "We're nearing twenty years in the ground together, now tell me how the hell we still wound up with a kid,"

A tired look breaks loose on Ben's face and his hands find a home in his pockets. Before he can answer, another hiccup overcomes the man splayed across the table, followed by a wet burp and a perfectly timed whine. Ben shrugs, giving her a lazy smile.

"No idea, but it's not my turn to burp him."

The woman rolled her eyes before crossing the room to stand over Klaus at the head of the dining table. With an impressive pout on her face, she swatted at the man in frustration. Her hand went straight through his head, leaving him unbothered apart from a bone chilling feeling that swept through him. Klaus fought a shiver, forcing away any indication he was bothered by it. But Y/n knew he was. So she did it again. And again. And again. And again.

Finally, he groaned. "Enough, Moaning Myrtle! You want me to catch a cold?" He whines, shifting himself away from her, clutching the bottle tighter.

"If it'll sober you up, sure."

"Well, jokes on you. The cough syrup dad always bought is like, fifty percent alcohol, so..."

Y/n threw her arms up in surrender at his relentlessness, and stalked off across the room to the couch in the corner. Just as she was about to take a seat, she froze when she heard the sudden and muffled sound of drums from several floors up. Her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, watching every detail with caution as she tried to decipher the noise. It wasn't long until she realized what was going on.

Luther was blasting his music again.

Y/n threw a glance over her shoulder to see Ben and Klaus were just as surprised at the turn of events as she was. Ben was staring at the ceiling still, before bringing his gaze to her. And Klaus slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, now lounging on the surface of the table just as the lyrics of Tiffany's I Think We're Alone Now began to make its way through the mansion.

"'Children behave', That's what they say when we're together, And watch how you play,"

"Is he playing what I think he's playing?" She asks.

"They don't understand and so we're, Running just as fast as we can,"

"Yup," drawls Ben, his head resting on the back of his shoulders as he gazes up at the ceiling in thought.

A broken laugh leaves Y/n's lips and as it does so, she folds her body into the couch in the corner. She lets her head tip back and rest on the cushions behind her, letting loose an overdue sigh that draws the eye of her boyfriend.

He looks at her playfully. "What? No remark?"

Her head rolls across the cushion to meet Ben's eye and she shrugs. "This family doesn't really surprise me anymore."

"Holding on to one another's hands,"

Klaus threw himself off the table before sweeping his fathers urn up into his arm, whiskey in his other hand. Slowly his hips began to move with the rhythm. He took one long swig of his drink, shaking his head from the dulled out burn racing down his throat. He then discarded the glass and began dancing with 'his father', his eyes now closed. Both Y/n and Ben see this, watching with expressionless faces before she turns to look back at Ben, lazily pointing at the unusual sight.

"Not even that." A grimace overtakes her face as she gives the odd dancing partners another once over. "Whatever... that is."

"Trying to get away, Into the night and then you put your arms around me and we stumble to the ground and then we say,"

Not by coincidence, both pairs of eyes land on the skirt-clad gentlemen that waltzed his way past Ben. His shaded eyes closed and the iron urn pulled closely to his chest, he breathed a light encouragement to his captive audience in the form of a hum.

"I will say," Y/n spoke, a devilish grin blossoming on her face. "man's been a real dick-swab lately, but... you gotta admit Luther's sense of humor is... fitting."

"I think we're alone now,"

The seven Hargreeves siblings and their unofficial eighth academy member were finally alone. Finally together again under one roof without the looming presence of the tyrant neither of them could properly call father. With Reginald gone, the air of fear and hostility that froze the halls and rooms had melted away. And no one acknowledged it, no one said it aloud, but they could all truly breathe for the first time.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone around"

Y/n released a stiff sigh as she pushed herself off the couch and appeared at Ben's side. Klaus twirled right through her, making her pause and roll her eyes as he waltzed around the table and across the room. She returned to Ben and held out her palm.

"I think we're alone now,"

Ben abandoned any effort to hide his smile at her invitation though he did roll his eyes dramatically as he took her hand.

"The beating of our hearts is the only sound,"

No sooner that he did, did he feel his body jolt forward into her arms as she pulled him close; their noses nearly touching. She grinned at him with the smile he always got lost in as a kid; nowadays, it was just home. Y/n began their trip around the kitchen in a clumsy waltz, Ben secured loosely in her arms as she quickly got lost in the music, not at all new to her lead or being a passenger in her thoughts.

"Look at the way we gotta hide what we're doin'," The two of them pass through Klaus unintentionally; their combined spirits passing through the unprepared man was almost enough to make him drop in the urn in surprise but he just as quickly returned to the all too catchy beat. "'Cause what would they say, If they ever knew,"

In one instant, Ben found himself wound up in her arms and he knew what was coming.

"And so we're," In the next, he unraveled himself from her arms across the kitchen floor in a less than graceful twirl that had both of them laughing in delight. "Running just as fast as we can, holding on to one another hands,"

"Trying to get away into the night and then you put your arms around me," With Y/n's hand still clasped tightly around Ben's, she gave another tug and he was back in her arms, his favorite spot on earth. "and we tumble to the ground and then we say,"

Urn now abandoned on the table, Klaus danced his way across the kitchen floor to his own routine, just passing the ghostly couple who shared a look and smiled.

"I think we're alone now,"

Y/n grabbed Klaus's shoulders, and Ben had grabbed hers; the three of them forming their own little conga line that Klaus gladly accepted to lead.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone around,"

Together, the small train of misfits paraded around the kitchen, never before experiencing such intense... relief. And certainly never in this dreaded house of all places. No monocle wearing terror to dictate them or threaten them into submission and be reduced to a pile of self loathing with nothing but a few words from his mouth.

"I think we're alone now," Even the air felt different, and neither Y/n nor Ben had to be living and breathing to feel it. The entire atmosphere was lighter; a pulse of light and warmth that surged through the entire house and something deep in her gut was telling her the three of them weren't the only ones letting loose for the first time in their existence. "And the beating of hearts is the only sound,"

"I think we're alone now," The family Y/n had found for herself all those years ago had gotten smaller again. But this time... This time was different."There doesn't seem to be anyone around,"

Maybe, just maybe...

"I think we're alone now," Maybe, the dust could finally begin to settle. Maybe things around here would finally see a change of pace. "The beating of our hearts is the only sound,"

A sound like thunder boomed from outside, sending the three jumping apart; and funny enough, Y/n was certain had her heart still been beating, it would be just as loud. Never a moment of silence, the thunder had yet to stop. It was as if an instant lightning storm had appeared as close as next door.

The atmosphere changed again; it was dark and cold and the lights dimmed in comparison to the blinding flashes of a hauntingly familiar vibrant blue that splashed the walls. The three of them stood around the room, gawking. That was until they all heard the same grating noise that drew their attention to the kitchen table where Reginald's urn began sliding off the table.

Klaus managed to catch it just in time as it flew off the table, the weight of it sending him into a slight stumble. With his jaw wrenched open in shock, his eyes search the room as he calls out into the unknown as if almost expecting an answer, "Daddy?"

Nobody answers, but everyone jumps in shock - no more so than Y/n when several knives are suddenly ripped from the knife block and are sent passing through her chest and into the wall. Baffled, they all looked to the wall at the far end of the kitchen where anything and everything magnetic was now stuck.

"The courtyard," Ben said, vocalizing what they had all been thinking.

•·················•·················•

"Holy shit," Y/n breathed, gaping up at what looked to be a giant blue worm hole towering over the courtyard and the rest of the remaining Hargreeves siblings.

She looked to Ben who stood beside her, just as baffled. And frightened.

Silently, their hands found each other as they stood together against the threat. Part of her knew it couldn't hurt her or Ben, but she worried for the others.

"Looks like some sort of temporal anomaly," shouted Luther, his voice trying not to get lost in the noise that now only echoed into itself in the barracks of the courtyard walls. "Either that or a miniature black hole. One of the two."

"Does that...? Does that look like a fence to you?" Y/n wondered aloud to Ben, her voice also straining to be heard above the noise. And yet still she knew, the others never would. Her squinted eyes remained trained on the blurry image she thought she saw through the burst of light. "I swear I see something..."

"Pretty big difference there, Paul Bunyan," Diego retorted, looking right at Luther.

"I don't know," answered Ben, subconsciously pulling her closer. "But what the hell is taking Klaus so-"

"OUTTA THE WAY!" Cried a voice barreling through the exit doors and through the wall of his siblings.

"What are you-?" Diego cried, ready to stop Klaus from any danger only to find what his brother's true intentions were.

Klaus fumbles with the bright red fire extinguisher in his hands, pulling the pin and letting loose only a couple bursts that don't make it far.

"Klaus!" Ben cries, trying to avail to get his attention.

After a moment, Klaus grumbled under his breath before winding the fire extinguisher back in his arms and chucking it into the enormous ball of of energy hanging over their heads with a simple, "Ack!" The fire extinguisher disappeared, completely absorbed into the wall of blue light.

"What is that gonna do?" Allison scolds.

Klaus gives a pathetic shrug. "I don't know! You have a better idea?"

As if the ball of energy had gotten angrier, the brightest flash of light they had yet to see lit up the courtyard like a stadium in time with another deafening boom. Klaus stumbled back and Luther quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him behind his towering form.

"Get behind me!" He orders, his eyes never leaving the enigma before them.

Instinctively, Diego does the same; pushing Klaus further behind himself and Luther.

"Yeah, get behind us," he ordered.

"I vote for running! Come on!"

Their hands still interlocked, Y/n turned to Ben again with a grave expression when she realized nobody was gonna do anything, not even bother to try Klaus's idea. "They're doomed."

"Y/n, look!" Ben said, his eyes never leaving the newest threat to the Umbrella Academy.

Her eyes followed Ben's to the center of the light and she gasped. There in the center, was a man in a suit and tie clawing at the blue light. His wrinkled eyes were screwed shut and he looked to be in excruciating pain as he forced himself through the wall of light. And as he did so, it almost looked as if a very familiar face was glitching on and off the old man's; as if unable to decide what it wanted to look like.

But as the body got closer and closer though the wall, the tinier the man became and the darker his hair grew. Like a bubble popping, the barrier broke; the invisible wall peeling away in an instant allowing the now smaller figure to fall through the portal and onto the concrete ground below.

The electrical storm continued above the figures head, but it grew weaker by the second and they deemed it safe enough to approach. Before they knew it, the storm had fizzled out completely leaving behind a small and dwindling whirlpool of leaves around the figure that now lie face first on the ground.

No one could believe what they had just witnessed, anymore than they could believe who now stumbled to his feet before them. His suit and tie were hanging off his tiny body that he was now swimming in. He brushed the leaves and dirt off his palms as he gave five of his siblings a funny look; like most of them, completely unaware of the two spirits lingering at their side.

Finally, Klaus broke the deafening silence left behind after the storm and dramatic change of events, addressing the person neither of them thought they'd ever see again.

"Does anyone else see a little Number Five, or is that just me?"

The boy before them seems confused at his words until he finally glances down at his body where the ends of his pants pool at his ankles and his hands, he realizes, are nearly buried beneath his sleeves.

𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟓 "𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄"

He looks up at his siblings, an overwhelming sense of dread hitting him harder than the fall and for the first time since his departure nearly two decades ago, he breaks his silence.

"Shit."

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

DONT STOP HELPING BLACK LIVES, THEY HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL MATTER! ♡ here are some ways you can help below as well as an additional link to help Palestine. Links will be in the comments which are accessible on the mobile website and desktop website, not the app. Please check them out or at least share them.

List of Black Lives Matter and Racial Equality Petitions to sign - [always being updated]

Links to Help Palestine

Help Neighbors Shelter From White Supremacists organized by BLM

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Taglist:

@stuckindilemma @shawkneecaps @chraracterfxreader1shots @i-reblog-fics-i-like @omni-idiot-fanfics @ohmyitsfaith @wrennotren @ba-responds @mythicalamphitrite

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist! ❥

101 notes · View notes

capaimagines · 3 years

Text

mark tuan - anemic

Pairing: Mark Tuan x choreographer!reader | Genre: angst & fluff | Warnings: passing out, reader not eating but not ED related, hospital, needles and blood drawing | WC: 1.1k

Request: Omg I love your extra member fics!!! Can I request where the reader is git7s choreographer and also marks gf!!! And she is so focused on helping them for their comeback that she forgets to eat and she passes out but also it's worse than it seems because she's anaemic so she needs to go to the hospital

“Let’s take ten and then start on the next song!” You called out and the others nodded gratefully.

You wiped the excessive amount of sweat from your forehead and collapsed on the ground, utterly exhausted. You smiled to yourself as you glanced to the side at the seven boys that were breathing heavily and dramatically as they sprawled across the floor and couch.

If someone had told you seven years ago that accepting the dance teacher position would have led you to where you were today, you would have laughed in their face. You thought you’d just be teaching the incoming trainees, not working with one of JYP’s most successful groups.

However, the boys were all super welcoming to you and you only had to yell at them sometimes. That was also when Mark started to take an interest in you. It was helpful because while you had Korean relatives, you had never lived in Korea or knew much about the culture until moving here. Your Korean wasn’t the best, but it was passable and the boys were always helping you learn more, especially Mark.

It didn’t take long for you two to start dating. While you would get teasing from BamBam and Yugyeom, you both knew when you needed to be professional. You stood up from the ground and placed your hand on your head as you had a sudden rush of a dizzy spell which resulted in you squeezing your eyes shut in hopes it would pass quickly.

“Y/N, you okay?” You opened your eyes to see Youngjae in front of you, hands out as if he was ready to catch you at any moment. You smiled at him and nodded.

“I’m fine! I just need to take my pills. I haven’t eaten much the past few days either.” Youngjae nodded in understanding before calling out to you as he walked the other way.

“I’ll save you the biggest portion of noodles,” He winked which caused you to chuckle.

You walked over to your bag, digging through it for your pills. You had been diagnosed with anemia when you were a little girl and had been on different pills and vitamins since to balance it out. However, watching your diet and not skipping meals played a big part in that too. You felt a little guilty for sugarcoating it to Youngjae.

Due to you being so focused on making this their best comeback yet, you had neglected to eat regularly and properly, let alone sleep normally. You had been up for hours the past month perfecting their choreography because you wanted to make sure they had something great to show the fans.

You groaned out in annoyance as you realized you forgot your pills back at Mark’s. You stood up, hoping that just eating something would help, however the minute you stood up, you paled and collapsed on the ground with a thud.

“Y/N!” Mark yelled as he ran over to you. You were extremely pale and your pulse was low, “Call an ambulance!” He yelled in panic.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

The boys were crowded in your small room, waiting for you to wake up. The doctor had taken some blood and confirmed your iron levels were dangerously low which also made your oxygen levels really low. Mark sat at your bedside, staring at the oxygen mask on your face and listening intently for the beeping of the heart monitor.

He knew you were anemic and he had always been diligent on making sure you were eating and taking all your supplements properly, but he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that this was somehow his fault. You had both been so busy lately that he had slacked off on making sure you were okay.

“She’ll be alright,” Jaebeom said as he placed a hand on Mark’s shoulder, “She’s a tough one and will be up and dancing in no time,” He reassured which prompted Mark to only nod and sigh as he interlocked your hands and kissed your knuckles.

You stirred, fluttering your eyes open and groaning at the pounding in your head.

“Y/N!” Mark shouted, moving closer to you. You winced as you saw the needle in your hand.

“Mark, w-what happened?” You stuttered, your head was hurting and you were confused as to why you were in the hospital with a needle in your hand.

“You passed out,” Jinyoung explained calmly, on the other side of your bed as he offered you a kind smile.

“You, missy, haven’t been taking care of yourself properly,” Yugyeom teased, pinching your shin as you could only roll your eyes at him. You were always hounding them to take care of themselves and eat and sleep properly and now, here you were, in a hospital bed because you didn’t take your own advice.

“I think this is the perfect time for us to nag you about it now,” BamBam teased with a wink and you groaned.

“The maknae’s giving me life advice? The world is really ending,” They feigned offense and Mark chuckled. The color was back to your skin and you didn’t look dead anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” He murmured and you smiled, running your hand without the IV in it through his hair.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” You all sat there, talking about nonsense, “When can I go home though?” You asked, you just really hated laying in bed and you’d much rather do that at home with Mark.

Mark shook his head, “Not until the doctor clears you. So, I’ll be back tomorrow to keep you company,” Your eyes widened as he kissed your forehead and stood up.

“You can’t be serious! I’m fine now! I don’t even feel dizzy anymore!” Mark only clicked his tongue, shaking his head as Jaebeom gathered everyone else to leave.

“Get some rest, noona! Make sure you eat properly! Three meals a day or we’re firing you!” Yugyeom teased as he skipped out of the room. You glared at him and then at your supposed boyfriend.

“You can’t be serious?” He only smiled at you, kissing your forehead one more time.

“Eight hours of sleep and three meals tomorrow and maybe I’ll consider letting you go home,” He chuckled before walking out of the room.

“I thought you loved me!”

94 notes · View notes