sad-boys-anonymous

[sad-boys-anonymous]

a character fainting in the middle of being lectured by their captain for something they did wrong, both worrying them and explaining why they'd made the mistake in the first place, is soooooo good

[sad-boys-anonymous]

nothinggg better than torturing an emotionally repressed character until every single trauma they've ever refused to process starts spilling uncontrollably out of the cracks. like a matryoshka doll situation of repressed trauma and baby you better believe i'm going in there with a hammer

[sad-boys-anonymous]

I love the image of a sickie sitting on the floor by a radiator, trying to stay warm. It’s the warmest spot in the room, so they huddle up next to it with some blankets, holding their hands out in front of it like it’s a campfire. The floor is cold and not very comfortable, but this is the best (or only) source of heat they have access to. Their caretaker later finds them asleep and shivering in the little nest of blankets they’d built, still trying to soak up as much heat as they can.

[sad-boys-anonymous]

The only thing being "locked in" is you in the torture dungeon

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Whumpril - Day 1:

Hugs 🫂

I wrote this at work and did not proofread 🫶 No ongoing series that it's a part of - just the Team as Family dynamic that I love to eat up. Threw in some magical exhaustion and the whole wip kinda got away from me. Event details at @whumpril

The mission ended as quickly as it started. The team had been tasked with evacuating a warehouse full of of workers after a threat to the company. Grunt work - as Leader would call it; a punishment for a mission that had resulted in too much property damage.

The warehouse was not supposed to be a target - but the office-building attached where higher level employees worked. This turned out not to be true, as the ground shook beneath them in the Warehouse, the pipes and rafters high above their heads groaning.

Paladin winced, tracking the ceiling for weak spots. At this point they had evacuated ⅔ of the warehouse floor - but the employees left inside either had mobility concerns or had initially not wanted to leave. They all looked at different team members for support, and Paladin saw an older woman clutching the wrist of Mage. Mage’s eyebrows were furrowed as he softly comforted her.

Leader broke the stillness by restarting the evacuation with a new rigor. They had almost everyone out when the ceiling caved in with a loud BANG, long pillars and pipes and sheet metal crashing down towards them. Paladin didn't even have a chance to react before the destruction hit an invisible force, falling around them in an oval with Mage at the center, palms flat as his arms shook to hold the weight.

“Let's move!” Leader snapped from the door, his eyes flicking to Mage before directing a look at Paladin that looked like Watch Him before darting off, presumably to meet up with Archer and track down the source of the explosion. Paladin rushed the rest of the people out the double doors before turning to Mage. He was sweating bullets, and there was a sense of static around him that made Paladin afraid to touch his skin. Paladin instead grabbed Mage's sleeve and slowly backed out of the warehouse, Mage never breaking his focus of keeping the bubble over their head. As he stepped outside the warehouse, he saw Mage’s shield falter and impulsively yanked his sleeve, pulling him to his chest and stumbling outside as the rubble rained down where they'd just been standing.

Paladin looked around, counting heads and finding all the warehouse workers accounted for. A sense of giddy triumph filled him, as it always did at a successful rescue. He whooped and, in a moment of pure adrenaline, Paladin crushed Mage into a tight hug, laughing semi-hysterically at the close call. Mage tentatively returned the hug but made a surprised sound as Paladin lifted him off the ground and spun him, their difference in stature apparent.

“You were amazing!” Paladin laughed, letting Mage’s feet touch the ground again. “I can't believe you were able to - are you alright?” He stopped, realizing Mage was still hugging him, his arms wrapped over Paladin’s shoulders tightly. Paladin felt a pulse of worry run through him, as Mage was probably the least touchy member of their team, not including Tech who hissed at any contact like they'd been burned.

With their height difference, Paladin felt Mage nod against his collar bone. He loosened his grip on Mage to try to pull back and look at his face, but as soon as he let go Mage’s weight against him increased to the point where he circled his arms around his waist again, holding him up.

“Whoa!” Paladin gasped as Mage’s arms around his neck fell loosely to his sides, the only thing keeping him from succumbing to gravity being the tight arms around his waist. “Mage - shit.” Paladin got a look at Mage’s face, which was stark white and drained of all color, his almost unreal-looking eyes shut as if he was sleeping. Paladin swore again and looked around, seeing a number of wide-eyed civilians staring back at him. “Everything's okay!” He called out as he adjusted his grip on his friend, slowly maneuvering him to the ground. He just had to figure out how to get Mage to Tech’s van. “Everyone report to emergency services - on the other side of the office building.”

Most of the civilians started off that way as he debated the best way to lift his friend. He felt a hand on his shoulder and the elderly woman that Mage had been consoling inside stood above him, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “He’ll be fine." He told the woman, a tight smile on his lips. “He overdid it. It happens sometimes.” He doesn't say that it's been years since Mage last dealt with magical exhaustion, that the team hadn't even considered the possibility of it coming back with such a vengeance. The woman nodded tentatively, before patting his shoulder and walking away.

Paladin turned his attention back to Mage. His head rested on Paladins shoulder, his breathing shallow and legs bent at an awkward angle from the way Paladin had lowered him down. Paladin sighed and curled his arm under Mage’s legs, his other arm supporting his back, as he struggled to stand with the extra weight. Mage may have been smaller than him, but he was in no way light. Paladin huffed and looked down at Mage, his eyes fluttering now but glassy, like he was struggling to come out of it. Paladin squeezed him tighter, guilt eating him for not getting everyone out faster so he wouldn't be so drained. Mage was due for another Paladin hug when he recovered from this.

[sad-boys-anonymous]

B has been feeling a little weird all day. A little shivery, a little tired, a little achey, starting to get sniffly, but overall okay. They don’t feel sick per se, just a little off.

Cut to B having a little movie night with their partner A, who is cradling B’s head in their lap. A is carding softly through their hair as they feel B’s breathing start to grow deeper and slower. They smile and move their fingers down towards B’s eyes, only to brush their forehead and stop. Is it just them, or is B feeling a little warm? They move their hand to B’s cheek, their other cupping the nape of their neck.

“You feeling okay? You feel really warm,” A asked, feeling B roll a little bit in their lap.

B mumbled something before burying their hot face deeper into the blankets and sniffling liquidly.

“Aw honey, let me get you some Tylenol so you can get some rest.”

[sad-boys-anonymous]

you ever accidentally make a guy that's so fun to beat up?

[sad-boys-anonymous]

sluttiest thing a man can do is pass out from pain

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Two days into laboring in his bathtub, and Dan Heng is ready to call for help. The warm water makes it easier on him as he struggles to sit up and reach for his phone on the tray. (How Pom-Pom managed to procure bathrobes actually meant for bathing and a full-body cushion for him to lay on in the tub, he doesn’t know but he will forever be grateful.) Another contraction makes him pause with a hiss, a hand holding his swollen belly as he tries to push but, once again, no progress.

Knock knock. “Dan Heng?” Oh, thank the stars, he doesn’t need his phone after all. Welt cracks open the door. “Can I come in?”

Dan Heng rasps, “Please.”

The other man quickly slips in and closes the door behind him. “How are you feeling?”

Dan Heng takes the hand offered to him and tries to lighten the mood. “Like I’m squeezing out a melon…!”

That gets a chuckle from Welt, before his smile reverts to a frown when a cramp makes Dan Heng groan. “We’re back at the Luofu. Lingsha’s on her way.”

“Okay…”

“Do you want me to get in with you?”

Dan Heng wordlessly points at the rack where there are spare robes, and within a minute Welt is climbing into the tub, pulling the other occupant to rest comfortably against his chest.

“How—” Another cramp, another pained moan. “How long until…?”

“About half an hour.” A larger hand rubs circles on his belly and, maybe it doesn’t soothe the pain, but it is a bit more bearable. “Keep breathing.”

Dan Heng has spent the past two days breathing. He can feel it, the egg just sitting right there, heavy and stuck at a certain point in his womb; but no matter how much he pushes it just. Won’t. Budge. Why? Why won’t it move?

A whimper escapes him alongside another contraction. Welt gently shushes him and murmurs encouragement. “You’re doing great. It won’t be long now…”

Loud footsteps and murmuring outside is the only cue Dan Heng hears before Lingsha and a couple other Vidyadhara (Yuluo and Yueyuan) enter the bathroom with their equipment. “How is he?” she asks hurriedly.

“Egg-bound,” Welt replies for him. “He’s been like this for two days.”

Lingsha wastes no time joining them in the tub in front of Dan Heng, and the latter jolts at the former’s fingers suddenly sliding into his birth canal, blood leaking out and faintly staining the water red. “Sorry, sorry…!” Her frown deepens when she reaches his cervix, holding her fingers in place for a moment. “Thought so. His body is trying to push the egg out, but he’s not dilated enough. Yueyuan, can you attach the heart monitor? Yuluo, that medication I prepared earlier is in the white gourd. And get the other one ready—”

Dan Heng accepts the spoonful into his mouth, the bitter taste lingering on his tongue as he is forced to wait for another few hours, listening to the steady beep, beep, beep from the heart monitor as he feels the egg shift slightly. He spreads his legs wider for Lingsha to reach in easier, still flinching at the intrusion as she feels for his cervix again. “Okay, he’s good to start pushing now. The dose he’ll take will make the contractions stronger.”

Wait, what? It’ll make the contractions stronger? Dan Heng swallows nervously, his breathing betraying him as Welt grips his hands tight. “You’ll be alright, Dan Heng,” he whispers, “We’ve got you. You’ll be just fine. Deep breath.”

Dan Heng takes a deep breath and lets Yuluo give him the spoonful of ground herbs. “Try to relax,” Yuluo murmurs. “Focus on breathing and let your body do what it needs to.”

Within several minutes, the contractions gradually become more and more intense. Dan Heng tightens his grip on Welt’s hands as his breathing comes quicker and frantic, groans and whimpers turning into sobs as he pushes and pushes, head spinning and light from the sharp and throbbing ache.

It’s still moving too slowly.

“Mr. Yang— Ah, I’m sorry, Dan Heng, can you let go? Mr. Yang, can you massage him like this?” Lingsha takes Welt’s hands onto Dan Heng’s belly. “Gently now.”

“You mean like this?” He presses and moves his hands down, drawing a gasp and a hiss from Dan Heng.

“Yes, just like that.”

“Got it.”

Dan Heng is left shaking, gritting his teeth and tightly hugging a bath cushion (he needs to grab hold of something) as he pushes along with the contractions and Welt’s hands for another hour—

“Ah— Aaaaah—!?”

“It’s crowning! You’re almost there!”

Fresh tears slide down his face. His legs are held and locked into the stirrups Lingsha set on the sides of the tub to keep them from thrashing and accidentally kicking her. He wails at another contraction forcing the egg further out, stretching him far more than a few fingers ever could. “It—! It—burns…!”

“Dan Heng, breathe!” Yueyuan takes hold of one of his hands and squeezes, wiping his sweat away with a cold cloth. “You’re doing great. Keep pushing!”

His voice cracks with broken sobs. “I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. You can do this, Dan Heng.” Welt alternates between massaging and rubbing soothing circles into his heaving belly. “Not much more, now. Don’t give up.”

Dan Heng squeezes Yuluo’s hand and pushes. His hole is stretched so wide it rips a scream from him.

“Wait, waitwaitwait!” Lingsha lightly taps his leg several times. “Don’t push anymore! Stop pushing! Mr. Yang, you too!”

What? Now she wants him to stop pushing!? Yueyuan glances at her uncertainly. “Cauldron Master?”

“The egg is at its widest point and he can’t take much more. He’ll injure himself if he strains himself too much.” Lingsha lightly squeezes his ankle. “He’ll have to let his body do the rest of the work.”

Dan Heng sobs. “Please, just…pull it out… I need it out now…!”

Welt coos softly in his ear, “It’s halfway out. Not much more.”

“B—but…!” Another contraction, another cramp, only this time it doesn’t seem like the egg moved. Panic floods him, his breathing in harsh and fast pants.

“Dan Heng, I said not to push!”

“Dan Heng, you need to stop pushing.”

“Cauldron Master, his vitals—!”

“He’s panicking. Yuluo, get the incense!”

“Dan Heng, you need to calm down—”

A sharp pain pierces his rim.

“AAAAAH!!”

Lingsha winces, expression pained in sympathy. “Oh. Oh, Dan Heng. Where’s the plug in this tub— Ah, there it is.”

Welt tightens his hug around Dan Heng. “What’s wrong? What happened!?”

“He tore. We can’t get him out like this, we’ll just have to drain the water. Yuluo, can you get my tools?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Dan Heng closes his eyes, tired and dizzy, resisting the urge to push. He wants to rest. He can’t rest. His body won’t let him. “How…how much more— Aaah!”

The egg suddenly slides further out. “Yes, yes! Okay, you can push again! Mr. Yang—”

“On it.”

Dan Heng breathes and pushes. More. More…! “Lingsha… Please—!”

Lingsha places her hands on the egg and tugs. It comes out a few inches. “Keep pushing, you’re almost done!”

Welt braces his lower belly. “When you’re ready,” he murmurs.

Dan Heng swallows, gripping the cushion in his arms and pushes one last time, feeling the egg slide out the rest of the way as he screams.

“Yes! Perfect!” Lingsha passes the egg to Yueyuan.

Dan Heng slumps against Welt, fading in and out while listening to the man coo soft and sweet praises into his ear.

His legs are finally released from their hold, and he feels weightless as Welt scoops him up and carries him out of the bathroom and lays him onto a bed with fresh towels, after pulling off his soaked bathrobe.

Yuluo appears next to him with an oxygen mask. “You’ll need stitches for that tear, so, deep breaths like before, alright? Don’t worry about anything else.”

Dan Heng doesn’t have it in him to protest and lets her strap the mask to his face.

By the time Lingsha returns with her tools, Dan Heng is beginning to drift off into a deep sleep.

YOU GUYS FEED ME SO GOOD everyone I come back I have a whole ass feast waiting for me and I love you all so much!!!

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Imagining Akutagawa finally taking care of a sick Atsushi for once, thinking it’ll be no big deal, right? Akutagawa is sick all the time so surely, SURELY, he’d be a good caretaker? But the moment he says something even slightly rude Atsushi just starts sobbing😭

like the high fever is making him so sensitive that when Akutagawa literally just says smth like “why are you behaving like a fool?😒” Atsushi just starts crying his eyes out HSHSJSKKS

and it lowkey jump scares Akutagawa he’s like ??? Um…?? Sorry…?

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Whumpee who collapses when they're alone, when nobody else is looking. Perhaps they realised they were going to pass out/seize/simply go down in advance, and decided to get themselves out of the way to a private room. Maybe they hoped that with a bit of fresh air outside they'd feel better.

Either way, they go down hard, and there's nobody there to cushion their fall or look out for them afterwards.

Who knows how long it is before Caretaker comes across them by accident? Until they scream or swear or gasp and hurry to Whumpee's aid, turning them onto their side, desperately trying to wake them up.

"Whumpee? Shit, Whumpee??"

[sad-boys-anonymous]

Alder belongs to @bumblingdragon

[sad-boys-anonymous]

*coughs* This may or may not veer right into dead dove territory and probably medical inaccuracies. No kinks, all angst and whump. *cough*

Dan Heng suffering postpartum.

Mere moments after delivering his egg/baby, he feels something wrong in his womb, like something else is coming out; except frequent checkups and scans have been done so he knows for a fact that there should not be another child in his belly.

He also feels so very sick that he can’t help thinking something is seriously wrong; and if he laid an egg, then he knows that something is definitely wrong because there should not be a placenta, yet he’s cramping terribly. He tries to say something only for a sharp ache to seize him deep in his belly, and for a strangled cry to come out of his mouth instead.

He’s lightheaded and his ears are ringing, fading in and out from the pain; so he can only make out “inversion” in Welt’s panicked voice — why is he panicking? — and Himeko yelling for blood packs and anesthesia. His head is lifted briefly for an oxygen mask to be placed over his face, followed by the sharp prick of a needle and a damp cloth wiping away his sweat.

Sunday grips his hand. “Deep breaths,” he murmurs into Dan Heng’s ear. “Try to sleep.”

Dan Heng feels a hand pressed over his hole, keeping in whatever is being pushed — pulled? — out of his body as the pain and his senses dull. He feels another hand on his belly, and he opens his briefly to find Blade in Welt’s place. Why is he here? “Go to sleep, Dan Heng,” is all he says as Dan Heng feels his eyelids grow heavy.

But the anesthesia wasn’t that strong enough. Dan Heng can still hear and feel, if only barely, caught in the middle of sleep and wakefulness. The hand at his hole begins pushing in, and the discomfort of the intrusion drags out a whimper from him. Sunday’s grip tightens and Dan Heng hears him asking why the anesthesia isn’t working like it should.

Blade’s hand reaches a barrier and tries to push through. The cramps are indescribable. He wants to tell Blade to stop — stop stop stop it hurts even more why are you doing this — but he can’t. He wants to move away, but his legs are locked in the stirrups, and Welt is holding his hips down.

He feels a sob in his chest and tears sliding down his face again. Blade stops pushing, and Dan Heng hears yelling for more or stronger anesthesia, sedatives, anything that can put him under. Pom-Pom frantically calls back. Sunday squeezes his hand and whispers, “It’s almost over. Deep breaths.”

It’s hard to focus on breathing when Blade’s hand moves again, forcing its way past and up, up, up while his body only weakly rebels. (Blade’s arm is inside of him, Dan Heng is sure of it.) “You’re doing great, Dan Heng. Keep breathing.”

He doesn’t want to breathe, he wants Blade to stop and just kill him already—

A warmth on his stomach makes him look down, watching the yellow-green glow of Abundance flow from Blade’s hand seep into bare skin. The cramps somewhat fade. Dan Heng hears the infirmary doors slamming, Pom-Pom calling for Himeko, the hiss of pressured gas, and feels the subtle flow of more air filling his mask. The ache in his womb begins to fade completely.

Sunday squeezes his hand one more time.

“Go to sleep.”

🪷 🌙 🪷

He wakes up in his new room, but still hooked to an IV and with a cold and damp cloth on his forehead.

Right next to the bed, Blade reads a book in an armchair. “The Cauldron Master and that foxian healer said to rest. Don’t force yourself.” He sets the book aside with a sigh. “How are you feeling?”

Dan Heng swallows, throat dry and a bit scratchy. A cup of water is pressed to Dan Heng’s lips and tilted, and he drinks all of it. “What happened back there?” he murmurs. Why did you stick your hand up through my cervix…!?

Blade cringes, evidently disliking that memory as much as Dan Heng despised it. “Your womb was falling out.” Oh. “The strain from having the egg was too much. We had to get Lingsha on the phone. Told us we’d have to put it back manually.”

Dan Heng is confused. “Wasn’t it supposed to be a low-risk birth?”

“Uterine inversion occurs in low-risk births, though it’s rare.”

A stroke of misfortune, then. “And…what you did with your other hand���”

“Your heart was slowing down from the blood loss. I didn’t know how to slow down the bleeding.”

So he used the Abundance to keep me alive. “How long was I—?”

“Only for a day.” Blade takes Dan Heng’s hand into his own, his face grim as he looks away. “You were losing so much blood, I thought…” Like Sunday, he squeezes the smaller hand weakly reciprocating. “I thought you’d leave me behind…”

Dan Heng frowns. He’d reach over with his other hand if he could, but he probably shouldn’t disturb the IV. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”

Blade only responds with a kiss to his knuckles.

“Stay with me a little longer?” It slips out without Dan Heng meaning it to.

Blade huffs. “Naturally.” Dan Heng catches the slightest hint of a smile. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Dan Heng hums and tugs the blankets up over his shoulders, letting himself drift off to the melody of Robin’s songs playing outside in the hallway.

OH THIS IS BEAUTIFUL HOLY SHIT??? OH I HAVE BEEN FED WELL, I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE ENJOYS THIS DELICIOUS MEAL AS MUCH AS I DID!

[sad-boys-anonymous]

── Confinement [MISSING]

The renowned artist Rafayel has gone missing...

[sad-boys-anonymous]

when a veeeeeery disoriented whumpee keeps repeating themselves or asking the same questions because they can't keep up with the conversation and keep forgetting :)

[sad-boys-anonymous]

What she says: I hate antis

What she really means: I don’t mind people disliking a ship for their own reason but the anti-shipping movement is driven by hate and bandwagon bullying to police what people are “allowed” to enjoy. They use fundamentally abusive and manipulative tactics on real people in the name of protecting survivors from speculative things in fiction. Antis want to act morally superior over ship wars and claim that to ship something problematic you must be a survivor. By doing this antis force survivors who may be uncomfortable with coming out with their status to out themselves and then hold them to impossible standards. Except when it does come to survivors who ship anti-deemed problematic things we are attacked, harassed, and then pushed under the bus anyway. Antis trivialize terms such as abuse, rape, and pedophilia by using them so often and out of place against a group made up of many survivors and minors– the people they claim to be protecting. They have bullied and suicide baited artists and other content creators they dislike in the name of “policing the bad ships uwu.” All antis are at fault for this, even if an anti claims not to send hate themselves they are still influencing this bad behavior because they are part of this hate group. The entire anti-shipper movement is a toxic cesspool that makes me feel sick.

[sad-boys-anonymous]

accidentally typed "trench kiss" instead of "french kiss". anyone wanna hold hands and kiss in a muddy hole full of rats as bullets and grenades and artillerary shells fly over our heads?