#TW: Seizure Mention

[kitsunesflames]

Just a thought that won’t leave my head. Just a few years ago I was this teen.

This teen had a small service part-time job where I had to stand for four to five hours. I didn’t know what breaks were.

Every two weeks I’d get this check for $84. $98 if I was lucky and got to work a Sunday morning.

And I’d be so excited every time that check was handed to me. I’d be smiling for the rest of that day.

I would just wiped down tables, roll silverware, and seat people. That was my job parameters at least in the beginning.

I was so happy with each little check I got, smiling when I got home late even if my service dog in training at the time made a mess for me to clean up when the sun was down.

I started to sweep the restaurant, take out the trash, sort the silverware out and if I found rolled silverware that wasn’t clean enough to me I’d reroll the entire set and send back the dirty ones. I’d take drink orders for waitresses having a bad day or just needed a little help that day. I’d write down orders for them occasionally too.

I’d talk to customers and keep them happy and entertained while they were waiting to check out. I’d engage with them so they wouldn’t get mad that their waitress wasn’t immediately there to take their bill.

I got tipped once for just talking to a costumer while her waitress was calming down from a huge rush. I didn’t understand tipping very well then. Still don’t. This lovely woman put a twenty dollar bill into my hands. She was from England visiting family for the holidays. I lived all the stories each costumer was willing to tell me.

When the costumer left I tried to give that tip to the waitress in charge of the costumers table. I didn’t understand how that money was meant for me. My job was to sit people, clean tables off, and roll silverware after all. Nothing to be tipped over.

That waitress, she grabbed my hands and had me cover the bill, and slide it into my pockets. I think I understand now today why she did that. The only thing she said to me, “This money is meant for you hon. Just don’t tell no one that you were given it.” I didn’t understand why she didn’t take the cash that I was convinced was meant for her, and I didn’t understand why she seemed so sad when I tried to refuse that twenty.

I had a seizure three months into the job while on the clock. My shift was ten minutes from ending. It wasn’t even a gran mal, and no costumers saw me seize. My mother got me and took me home early. I was said that I didn’t get to finish my shift. I’d been recently diagnosed, I guess you could say I was still in denial. That was my last shift at that job.

I wasn’t fired. I didn’t quit. I had a single on site mioclonic seizure at the end of my shift and I was no longer being called in. I asked too when my next shift was. My uncle worked at that same place, he came to me one night and handed me a check for $64 dollars.

I was frustrated. I wanted to go back to work. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go back to sitting people and rolling silverware. I wanted to small at my bi weekly check that wasn’t much.

I miss those checks. I miss having a job. I tried two years after that to apply for another job. It was smooth sailing until the in person interview. My service dog was working and by my side 24/7 at that point. The in person interview didn’t last five minutes.

I miss the routine, I miss my busy work, I miss my small conversations, and I miss my tiny checks that said, “You got paid! You did work and you have the proof!”

I don’t smile as much anymore. I can’t drive. My work experience is that one job that I loved too much.

But I don’t know how I’d even start to get that little happiness back. I miss it. I have part time online college classes, but a good grade isn’t the same as a check, even a tiny one. I have a 4.0, and that doesn’t make me smile. But a check that was $84 had me smiling for days.

[eliaswasoncehere]

what is one of your “bad” habits?

Do seizures count as a bad habit? *chuckles*

[kitxkatrp]

[MISC. SENTENCE STARTERS WITH A BIT OF ANGST] ❝ you're gonna be okay. eventually. but first you gotta not be okay for a while. it's gotta suck so you can actually recognize when you're alright again. ❞ // Kotetsu to Barnaby @cpirits

It was one thing to internally start to realize what Maverick had done to him that he didn't remember--it was another thing for this realization to happen in the hospital with Kotetsu by his side.

The doctors had said it was likely that the damage to his nerves had been done by repeated electric shocks. He didn't remember any of this, but the proof was there and in the seizure he'd had that put him in this hospital bed in the first place.

"...That man...how could I have been so blind...?" He whispered, staring up at the ceiling with dark, absent eyes. He still hadn't quite recovered yet, but it was better that Kotetsu was by his side.

[dryadalismagicae]

@dalishflame || LIKED for a STARTER

"Would you... would you help me sit up- I'm so sorry to impose." How much more could he say, how much could he offer in explanation? Mayhap everything, mayhap naught; seizures were viewed differently depending on the person, after all. Some considered it a symptom of possession, others a medical problem; either way, the healer had done all he could to hide it ever since he was a young man and even now, much further into the future, was it something he struggled with immensely.

[abbeyofcyn]

Krang infection 42

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[flowercrowns-and-leatherjackets]

Amy rolled her eyes and muttered to herself but ordered for the both of them, still rather upset about him ‘ignoring’ her so publicly, and with friends. Jensen tried to calm her friend, talk sense into her. But she kept turning to look back at him. Thinking something was wrong, zoned out people usually came back with name calling or hand in face…

flowercrowns-and-leatherjackets​:

Amy let out an annoyed groan. “Again? See- he refuses to listen to me. It’s ridiculous.” She said, frustrated. “What do you want to eat?” She asked thrusting the menu at him. Jensen looked at him. Hee nurse instinct kicking in. “Any relax, it’s okay,” she breathed

Eddie looked at her so confused right now. He hadn’t had this problem before when this happened. Usually because either he was alone, or no one noticed. He stared at he as she pretty much threw the menu at him. He looked at the menu and then glanced at Jensen before looking back at the menu again. “I’ll have that.” He said, pointing at something on the menu. He didn’t want an argument happening here.

[waywardwritesstuff]

I have a little bit of a hurt/comfort request for Logan if you're up for it! I was thinking something along the lines of gn!reader is already having a bad day and then during their training they hurt themselves with their mutation and it just makes everything come to a head and Logan comforts them through it? If you're not up for it that's totally! Either way I hope you have a good day/night

Summary: Having a mutation isn't easy, despite what all the other superheroes around you make it seem. A mutation that conducts electricity and uses your body as a channel for that energy takes a toll on the wielder. And that wielder is you.

Word Count:

Tags: based on the 90s x-men but with movie logan in mind, hurt/comfort, soft, fluff, boyfriend!logan, electricity mutation, electrocution, accidental self-harm, the danger room, no use of y/n, scott mentioned, nightcrawler mentioned, rouge mentioned, seizures, can be read as platonic or romantic

"You're up!" Scott called to you from outside the danger room. You took a deep breath and walked in.

The room was dark, you could faintly see a few obstacles in front of you, but the rest of the room was hidden in shadow.

"Your task-" Scott's voice rang out over the loud speakers planted in the walls around the danger room "-is to light each set of lighting equipment you can find, whilst also defending from on coming enemies. This is a support style mission, you need to keep the environment as lit as possible so you're teammates can get in and get out completing the mission"

You nod your head hoping he can see you, even if you can't see him.

You also couldn't see any teammates but you could hear small amounts of shuffling, assuming that someone was in here with you.

A singular, fairly dim light turned on in the roof. You assumed this was some sort of night-simulated training course since the little light kind of looked like a full moon.

You took a step forward trying to find the lights Scott was talking about. Taking a deep breath you drew on the naturally occurring electricity in your body, concentrating so the flow would reside directly under your skin where you could use it.

You found a machine with a large lightbulb in it and shot a pulse of electricity through it. It lit up instantly and the surrounding area looked clearer. The danger room had brought up a holographic image of a warehouse at the dockyard.

You went around finding the mechanism around the edge of the dock when you heard shuffling from behind you. You whipped around keeping the pulse in your hand at the ready instead of putting it into the light.

The small amount of light you were radiating gave you enough light to see in front of you but not enough to see further out. The sound had come from the area you were yet to light.

You heard a sudden bamf and Kurt appeared on one of the shipping containers to your right. He jumped again, headed straight for you but you let of a bolt of electricity and pushed him away from you. He almost slammed back into the container, but he pushed his feet against it and disappeared in a puff of smoke again.

You span around trying to find him but couldn't see him. You lit up the mechanism but by the time you turned around, Kurt was already too close for you to bring up a blast. He kicked your feet out from under you and you collapsed onto the ground.

The electricity under your skin flickered and then went out. You got up and focused on pulling your power back. Trying to concentrate whilst also keeping an eye out for Kurt, it was hard to hear since the buzzing in your ears made it harder to hear the subtler noises.

Kurt didn't reappear, but now that you knew for sure you weren't alone and that there was potentially more than one person in the danger room with you, you had to move quickly.

You used the height of the shipping containers to your advantage and made your way up from there. You saw a storm light sitting on the side of the warehouse and you blasted it, making a large part of the dock become lit in a dim yellow glow. From here, you realised who else was in the danger room with you. You looked above the light and saw Rouge floating there.

"Hiya sugar" she smiled at you before making a dive for you

You jumped off the shipping container only to hear Rouge burst through it, she would have taken you with her had you not moved. She ripped open a hole in the side of the shipping container and followed after you. You watched as she flew at you again, charging up a blast enough that would knock her off her aim so you could finish your mission.

You concentrated your fire directly at Rouge and she was blinded by the light that you hit her with. You blast sent her flying back and you made a break for the next set of lights. You only had 4 more to go. You raced over to the still dark area of the docks only to see someone crouched at the edge of the dim light. A big blue mass that could have only been Beast.

You made a break for the first of the four mechanisms. Blasting it from a far and only just hitting your target before you heared the sound of someone landing on one of the wooden boxes beside you. You don't turn in time as Beast's legs are colliding with your side.

You slam into the next box and cry out.

"Apologise my friend" he says in the near distance

Your light flickers and dies out again. You scramble to your feet quickly as you hear a bamf and the whooshing of Rouge flying through the air.

Suddenly feeling very overwhelmed and crowded your body begins to light up. Brighter and brighter as the neurons in your brain work overtime putting your body into fight or flight. But the combined stress and mutational light makes something in your mind snap.

Suddenly your whole body is glowing brighter than ever before, your veins light up brighter than the rest like lightning bolts and all the energy can no longer be contained. The heat inside of your veins boils your blood and the stress on your brain causes something to faulter in your mind.

In a burst of light you let out a large, whole body pulse of electricity and fall to the ground. Everything goes dark even though you can still feel your mutation working over drive. Your body is twitching from head to toe as you spasm out of control. Letting a pulse of energy out each time your body twitches.

The group around you are blinded and are pushed away from the force.

You can't see anything, can't hear anything except the ringing in your ears.

Everything is dark, you are afraid. And then it all stops.

Once the pulsing stops Beast approaches you. Realising what has happened

"We need to get them to the med bay immediately!" He shouts as he scopes your limp body up.

He rushes to the med bay accompanied by Scott, who watched the whole ordeal.

Logan was in his room at the time, he didn't have any classes to teach and it wasn't his turn in the danger room yet, so he was waiting idly by.

But when the lights had flickered and the mansion lost total power momentarily he knew something was wrong.

The way has hair stood on end in a familiar way told him something had happened. And that something was you.

He rushed down to the danger room just as Beast was leaving, with you in his arms.

Logan rushed to Beast and Scott's side. His face stricken with worry

"What happened" he hissed

"They had a seizure. I need to take them to the med bay to check what caused it and if any more damage has been caused" Beast explained calmly though he could smell the anxiety radiating from him.

He let Beast walk further down the hall before he turned to Scott holding him by the collar against the wall.

"What did you do?" Scott was the one in charge of creating and overseeing the training drills. It had to be his fault

"Let go of me Logan. I didn't do anything"

"Bullshit" he had to be involved. He had to

"It was a fucking training exercise I didn't try to kill them. Are you insane?!"

Logan wasn't thinking straight but he didn't care. He was worried about you. Instead of continuing to bother with Scott, Logan dropped him and hastily walked in the direction of the lab. Leaving Scott to pick himself up.

He sat by the benches as Beast hooked you up to a heart monitor and vital scanner. He measured the level of electric currents flowing through your brain and thankfully found that they were back to normal.

Everything about you was completely intact, except for the scars all over your body. In the same places where your veins had lit up, lightning strikes like old white scars had been burned into your skin. The map of you veins now etched into the outside of your body.

Beast informed Logan of this pulling away your shirt to show him.

Logan sighed not knowing how you would take this when you woke up.

"They will wake up right?"

"Yes all brain activity is normal and all their vitals are steady. Right now they are more or less sleeping. They should awake within the hour"

Logan grunted in acknowledgment but Beast could see the worry in the ever growing frown lines in his face

"Logan, if you wish you can stay here. I however have other matters to attend to. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah Hank, I'll be fine" his voice sounded flat. But Beast knew hidden underneath was a valley of worry.

He waited. Patiently. Not moving an inch. His eyes flicking between the heart monitor that was beeping steadily and your breathing figure laying on the lab table.

He heard the movement before he saw it. The barest sound of cloth on metal as you shifted. He smelt your breath as you opened your mouth slightly. Consciously breathing. You then sat up suddenly, startled and confused.

Logan ran to your side and took your hand

"Shh, hey it's ok. You're ok"

You looked around frantically for a moment before locking eyes with Logan

Your breathing sped up as your body reacted to its last memory. You clutched his hand, not fully realising you were holding it as your eye began to light up

"Hey, listen to me. Look at me ok? We are in the lab. It's just me and you. No one else"

You stared at Logan but didn't see him. Not really your eyes were glazed over and partially hidden by the light shining through them. You blinked hard a few times before you fully realised where you were.

On the last blink you saw Logan. His curled hair and whisky eyes taking up most of your vision. And you felt the glow slowly dissipate.

"God, Logan I-" but you couldn't get much more out before your voice broke and tears began to fall from your eyes. Logan wrapped his arms around you, cradling your head against his chest as your harsh breathing picked up slightly

"You wanna try and tell me what happened?" He tried tenderly after a moment.

You took a deep breath in, you heart rate had decreased significantly but it was still too loud in your ears.

"I just...I got overwhelmed. I wasn't expecting Scott to have brought the others in. I thought at least- they would have been holograms"

Logan's chest rumbled in your ear as you heard him growl at the mention of Scott.

"I'm gonna kill him"

"Logan don't. It's not his fault" you clutched his shirt as you said it. Worried he might leave.

Logan noticed this and didn't move

"What happened" you sniffed quietly

"You had a seizure. Too much of your electricity went to your brain and it couldn't take it"

You clutched his shirt tighter. It had been scary living it in the moment. But hearing about it was somehow equally as frightening.

Logan pulled away but didn't start far. Slowly he took your hand and turned it over. At first you didn't see. But then the faint white lines registered in your eyes and you gasped clutching your own hand

"Logan?! What is this?"

Logan took your hand again and tried to steady you as he watched the panic rise.

"Bub, breathe ok. You're fine. Hank said it was from the seizure. The level of electricity you let out left a print-"

You open your mouth to cut him off but he jumps in

"-and before you ask. No, no one got hurt"

You shut your mouth

You pull back the sleeve of your shirt to see that the lightning bolt trail traveled all the way up your arms like a map of the lakes from all across the world. You did the same with your other arm and even pulled your top up half way. Still more imprints

You didn't know what to think. They weren't ugly. But a scar is a scar.

Logan could see it in your eyes as you looked that there was much confusion and pain held there that you were silently holding back.

"Bub? You're gonna be ok. We're just gonna have to help you find your limit yeah? And I ain't gonna let you do another training session alone until we do"

You nod and he pulls you close again. His embrace warm and comforting.

Logan felt like home to you, even after you had snapped, he still didn't run away from the danger you potentially held inside of you. He still let you cling to him, and you could feel it in the beat of his hear how much he cared.

You would get through this, with Logan by your side. Always

I hoped this turned out the way you were hoping. I really enjoyed writing it. It's been a while since I've gotten a request so if you have another please send it in. And maybe even recommend me to some other Logan fans out there.

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #7

Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

Masterlist

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I don't think I've ever seen Carbon Monoxide poisoning in whump...

I mean, there's just so much potential!

Characters falling ill with some mysterious sickness, everyone in the house having similar, if not the same symptoms.

Maybe it's just dizziness, fatigue, headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. All things that are inconvenient, and after a certain point, become worrisome and quite concerning but not life threatening and some might just brush off. Maybe if they live alone they think they're over-dramatic or that their age or past experiences are finally getting to them. If they have roommates, maybe they chock it up to food poisoning or seasonal allergies being extra bad or maybe it's all the studying, work, and/or parties. Some could even think it's a virus of some kind.

But it continues to get worse. With things like seizures, hallucinations, and disorientation making a character who lives alone think they're going completely insane or maybe they finally go to the hospital because y'know. Seizures. If they're roommates, then wow, that's some bad food poisoning. Or they've been having some awful trips lately.

Anyway, eventually if nothings done about it, it can leave a character or two comatose or even eventually dead.

Just seems quite whumpy and with a ton of potential. Whether it's a sickfic, environmental whump, etc.

Not to mention; what about a recovering whumpee? What or who are they hallucinating? This sure would make physical and mental recovery a hell of a lot harder. Especially when the caretaker is extremely ill and experiencing similar symptoms as the whumpee.

Would be a shame if this happened to your poor recovering blorbos :(

[pomeraniandancer]

I bought BG3 three weeks ago, and I adore Karlach as much as the next person, but speaking as someone who has had an external fixator (and still has some internal fixation), MY GOD do those rivets look painful.

I'm obviously still pretty early in the game, but thus far it seems Larian missed an opportunity to include a chronic pain aspect to her infernal engine storyline.

[sicknessbysalem]

Novemetober (Rescheduled) | Day Sixteen

prompt: waking up puking

hi yes sorry i died for a week. things were rough.

i swear i have other ocs. but something about making novak puke his pretty little guts out makes me happy inside. and i felt like that was a better thing to come back and write.

@monthofsick

if you have any questions, comments, or requests, feel free to send them.

tw emeto, fever, exhaustion, seizure mention (but no actual seizures this time)

Novak stood on the sidelines of the football field, observing the players as they ran through defensive drills. As the defensive coach for the Mavericks, he felt a sense of responsibility to ensure the team was performing at their best. Whether it was the defensive line, the offensive line, or even himself. Novak wanted everyone to perform at their best, even in practice.

For himself, he was desperate to perform at the top of his game, even though he was sidelined. He had to do well. He needed to prove that it wasn't a waste to move him to the coaching position that was open when he couldn't play anymore, not safely anyway. And usually, Novak was good at what he did. He was tough, but not relentless. He was determined for his team to do the best they could do, even in practice, and would hardly accept anything else.

But today, he felt like he was failing them. Novak couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion that seemed to weigh him down with each passing minute.

The sun beat down relentlessly on the field, intensifying the heat and adding to Novak's discomfort. Despite the temperature, he felt a chill run through his body, accompanied by a persistent ache in his muscles. Novak rubbed his temples, trying to alleviate the throbbing headache that had been plaguing him all morning.

As the practice continued, Novak found it increasingly difficult to focus on the drills. His movements felt sluggish, and he struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the players. Every step seemed to take more effort than usual, and he couldn't shake off the feeling of fatigue that weighed heavily on him.

Still, Novak pushed through, determined not to let his team down. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep moving, ignoring the protests of his tired body. He couldn't afford to show any weakness, especially not in front of his players. He didn't even know why he felt so... bad. Yuliya had been sick, he took care of her. But surely, Novak told himself, that wasn't what caused that. It couldn't be. Not right now.

He checked his watch briefly. His heart rate looked fine. He didn't feel like he was really at risk for a seizure, so at least that was good. He sighed to himself, before going back to his clipboard and resuming his duties, taking off his sweatshirt in hopes to make himself feel at least a little better.

As practice dragged on, Novak's condition only seemed to worsen. The pounding in his head grew more intense, and a wave of nausea swept over him. He staggered slightly, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.

Despite his best efforts to hide his discomfort, one of his assistant coaches noticed Novak's struggle.

"Hey, Novak, you alright?" Kyle asked, concern evident in his voice.

Novak forced a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah, just a little tired. My girlfriend, she was sick over the weekend. SO I'm just a little worn out. Nothing to worry about."

But Kyle wasn't convinced. "You don't look so good. Maybe you should take a break, get some water or something."

Novak shook his head. "I'm fine, really. I'll tough it out."

With a shrug, Kyle reluctantly backed off, but Novak could tell that his condition hadn't gone unnoticed. He cursed himself for not being able to hide it better. The last thing he wanted, especially after the incident in July, was for anyone to be paying extra close attention to him. Even for a short time.

As practice continued, Novak struggled to keep his focus, his vision blurring at the edges. Each passing minute felt like an eternity, and he counted down the clock until he could go home and crash. Maybe that was all he needed, an early night and he would be fine in the morning.

-

Novak had hardly stepped in the door when his mom came out. She immediately noticed the fatigue etched on his face and the weariness in his eyes, he could see her worry on her face. The thought made him feel guilty.

"Novak, you don't look well," Marina said, her voice filled with worry.

Novak forced a smile. "I'm just tired, Mom. Yuliya was sick over the weekend, you know... I took care of her. And took care of Elya. I'll probably just go to bed early tonight."

Marina studied him for a moment, unconvinced by his explanation. She knew her son well enough to sense when something was off, and today, Novak seemed more than just tired.

"Are you sure that's all it is?" Marina pressed, placing her hand on his shoulder, "Do I need to call Willow?"

"I'm not going to have..." Novak couldn't make himself finish the sentence, "I'm fine. I'm just tired."

"Alright, słoneczko," Marina said, trying to hide her concern. "Why don't you sit down and rest? I'll make us some tea."

Novak nodded gratefully, sinking onto the couch with a heavy sigh. Marina disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Novak alone with his thoughts, trying to piece together why exactly he felt so fucking exhausted. He was tired, but it was more than that. Something told him it was much more than that.

Before he knew it, Novak's eyelids grew heavy, and he succumbed to the irresistible pull of sleep. Unaware of his own actions, he drifted off into a restless slumber, his body craving the rest it so desperately needed.

-

Yuliya's hands running through his hair are somehow incredibly comforting and makes his skin crawl at the same time.

He opened his eyes, staring at the living room ceiling. His head was pounding, the living room lights made him cringe and close his eyes again.

"You're sweating..." Yulia said, he heard the sound her her rubbing her hands on her leggings, "Do you feel okay?"

Novak mustered a weak nod in response to Yuliya's question, though he knew it was far from the truth. His body felt like it was on fire, and each movement sent waves of nausea rippling through him. Novak struggled to form a coherent response, his mind fogged by fatigue and the relentless throbbing in his head. He managed a weak nod, though he knew it wasn't entirely truthful.

"Just tired," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just need some rest."

Yuliya's brows furrowed with concern as she observed Novak's pale complexion and the sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. She reached out to touch his cheek, her hand coming away warm and clammy.

"You're burning up," she said softly, her worry palpable in her voice. "I think you might have a fever."

Novak's stomach churned uneasily at her words, a wave of nausea washing over him. He swallowed hard, trying to push back the rising tide of sickness threatening to overwhelm him.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

Yuliya's expression softened with understanding as she gazed at Novak with unwavering concern.

"Let's get you to bed," she said gently, offering him a reassuring smile. "You need to rest."

"I have to get Elya from-"

"Your mom took care of it," Yuliya said, "She's worried. Come on, lets get you in bed..."

Yuliya helped Novak to his feet, supporting him as they made their way to the bedroom. Novak's legs felt like lead, each step a struggle against the mounting exhaustion and dizziness.

Once they reached the bed, Novak sank down onto the mattress with a weary sigh, his body feeling heavier than usual. Novak laid on top of his sheets. He felt entiely uncomfortable, and though he felt slightly cold, he was sure the added feeling of sheets on his skin would send him into an overstimulated spiral.

Yuliya sat beside him, gently brushing her fingers through his hair, carefully detangling the ash blond locks that grew tangled from how wet they were from sweat.

"Do you want to change?" Yuliya asked.

Novak thought about it. And he thought about not changing. Just dealing with it. But, he figured he would probably be more comfortable. So, he nodded, forcing himself to his feet and grabbing a change of clothes. Yuliya looked away, occupying herself by picking things up off the floor. Her clothes, his clothes, she tossed them in the bin.

"I'll probably wash these when you fall asleep, okay?" Yuliya said.

Standing made Novak dizzy, he grabbed his dresser as he pulled on some comfortable clothes. He almost didn't answer, his brain not cooperating.

"You don't have to," Novak said, laying back down.

Yuliya sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing Novak's shoulder. Yuliya was the only exception in terms of his touch aversion. At least, to a degree.

"Try to get some sleep," she said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Novak's clammy forehead. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

Novak nodded weakly, his eyelids already drooping with fatigue. He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would offer some relief from the relentless ache in his head and the queasiness in his stomach.

Despite the exhaustion, Novak drifted in and out of consciousness. Each time he surfaced from the depths of sleep, Novak found himself enveloped in a fog of disorientation and confusion. His head throbbed with an intensity that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of his being, pulsing with each beat of his feverish heart.

His room is dark when he finally managed to pry his heavy eyelids open, the world swam in a dizzying haze before him. The room spun around him, tilting and swaying with each movement, leaving him feeling nauseous and unsteady, even as he laid down. He felt the weight of Yuliya behind him, her hand resting on the side of his head, as if she dozed off while lightly scratching the side and back of his head with her nails, as she always did. It was comforting, it made him feel better. Usually.

Now her hand just rested there, a surprinsingly comfortable pressure he could focus on that wasn't the nausea, wasn't the headache.

His stomach churned with a queasy unease, threatening to rebel against him at any moment. Novak clenched his jaw tightly, willing himself to hold back the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Despite his best efforts, he could feel the telltale signs of impending sickness clawing at the back of his throat, a bitter taste flooding his mouth with each ragged breath he took.

Novak's limbs felt heavy and leaden, as if weighed down by an invisible force that sapped him of his strength and vitality. He longed to rise from the suffocating confines of his bed, to escape the oppressive grasp of illness that held him captive.

But try as he might, he found himself trapped in a state of being unable to muster the energy to move. He tasted saliva in his mouth, swallowing hard and shuddering against it.

The slight shudder must have woke Yuliya. He heard her behind him, heard her hum softly and sit up, reaching over him to turn on his lamp on his nightstand, Yuliya's concern deepened as she watched Novak struggle, his pale complexion contrasting starkly against the rumpled sheets of the bed. She could see the distress etched into the lines of his furrowed brow, the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his clammy skin.

"Novak, are you alright?" Yuliya's voice was laced with worry, her hand brushing over the side of his face, pushing back sweaty hair. He glanced at his watch, his phone was sitting on the nightstand. At least it wasn't that... she figured.

Novak couldn't even bring himself to shake his head at first. His throat constricted with the effort of holding back the rising tide of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Every slight movement sent a fresh wave of dizziness crashing over him, leaving him feeling light-headed and disoriented.

He tried to will himself to move, to push past the suffocating weight that pressed down on him from all sides. He needed to get up, to run to the bathroom, or to his desk, where his trash can was. Something, anything. But his limbs felt leaden and unresponsive, as if anchored to the mattress by invisible chains that refused to loosen their grip.

As the minutes ticked by, Novak's resolve began to waver, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps as the relentless onslaught of sickness tightened its grip around him.

"Novak.. Novak hey," Yuliya said, "What's wrong?"

Desperation clawed at his chest as he struggled to keep the roiling contents of his stomach at bay, his muscles tensed with the effort of holding back what he tried not to imagine was the remains of lunch and breakfast, and maybe dinner from the day before. He could finally move, briefly, only enough to cover his mouth with his hand.

"Shit," Yuliya said, starting to go to get up and grab something.

Novak shook his head. He needed to move, he tried to move. But he couldn't. That was when the panic started to set in.

Maybe he could just... breathe. Maybe he could settle his own stomach. Maybe, maybe.

But despite his best efforts, Novak could feel the telltale churn of his stomach intensifying with each passing second, a grim reminder of his body's relentless betrayal in the face of illness.

As soon as Yuliya set down the trash can, then he could move. He moved just enough to grab the bin. It was milliseconds vefore he started heaving, his body trying to purge whatever dared make him feel so disgusting.

Yuliya watched with a mixture of concern and helplessness as Novak's body convulsed with each violent heave, his features contorted in agony as he struggled to expel the contents of his roiling stomach.

She moved closer, her hand hovering uncertainly over his trembling form, wanting desperately to offer comfort but unsure of how to help.

"Easy, Novak," she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. "Just let it out. You'll feel better once it's all out of your system."

Novak could only nod weakly in response, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rode out the storm of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. He clung to the trash can with a white-knuckled grip, his knuckles turning pale with the effort of holding on.

With each retch and gag, Novak felt a small measure of relief wash over him. Each wave of sick made his stomach feel less tense and full.

At one point, Novak stopped briefly to take a breath. His body giving him a split second relief. But when the nausea kicked back up again, this time Novak knew he coulf make it to the bathroom. And make it to the bathroom he did.

He bolted, abandoning the trash bin, knowing there was more in his system. Sure enough, as soon as he was on his knees if front of the toilet he was vomiting again.

Yulia sat it the doorway. Wincing as Novak retched up more and more waves of sludge from his stomach. Waves of gods knew what. Yuliya moved a little closer.

Yuliya reached out a gentle hand to brush the sweat-dampened hair from Novak's forehead, her touch comforting.

Novak continued to heave for what felt like an eternity. But finally, finally he was left gasping, trying to catch his breath.

He looked at Yuliya, who offered a small smile.

“It’s gonna be a long night, my love…” Yuliya said softly. “But, I’ll be right here.”

[erebus-the-answer]

Here are my sprite edits of what I think Ryuji and Yusuke's moms might look like! Yusuke's mom, I named her Tsumugi, and Ryuji's mom I named Saeko! I put some more detailed descriptions about both of them under the cut!

Keep in mind that everything under the cut is mostly my headcanons and only vaguely makes sense to the actual p5 lore lol

Tsumugi Kitagawa:

In an AU where Tsumugi didn't die due to Madarame's negligence, I find myself liking the idea that the moment when Madarame refused to try and save her life was the moment when Tsumugi would decide to turn her life around for the sake of her son. Leaving Madarame's abusive hold on her and her son with nothing to her name besides the clothes on her back, Tsumugi and Yusuke found themselves at a women's shelter. It was there where she met Ryuji and Saeko for the first time, but only briefly.

Tsumugi eventually got herself on her feet, but times were still tough for the single mother and her son. They managed to find a small room together, but it certainly wasn't the best way to live.

After a few years of quiet living for Yusuke and Tsumugi, with no more willing pupils left at his atelier and with a sudden change of heart, Madarame confessed to the abuse and plagiarism that he committed. He released to the public that Tsumugi was the true painter of The Sayuri.

Almost instantly life changed for Tsumugi and Yusuke. Tsumugi was offered almost endless deals with TV companies, movie producers, and interviewers. Because of stress being bad for her epilepsy, Tsumugi turned down all of the offers that she was given besides one: the chance to teach at Kosei High. She settled with this, and because of her status as a teacher and Yusuke's great skill, he was offered a scholarship! Saeko Sakura: Saeko Sakura (maiden name Uryuu) is Ryuji's mother.

She was a young, dumb, punk teenager when she first met Ryuji's father, a member of one of her favorite bands. He was also a teenager.

Ryuji wasn't a planned pregnancy, and when Saeko found out that she was pregnant, she went and told Ryuji's father that he had to take responsibility. He begrudgingly married her and settled down with her, but he always resented her and Ryuji for it.

Following the Persona 5 canon, Ryuji's father was verbally and physically abusive to his wife and son. unlike in canon, instead of his father up and leaving, it was Saeko and Ryuji who left, finding themselves in a womens shelter for some time.

Saeko's carer as a nurse helped the two of them to find another place to live fairly quickly, though because of this, Saeko found herself working many bizarre hours.

Eventually, she ended up meeting Sojiro Sakura, a man who worked at Cafe Leblanc which she frequently visited. She instantly found a sort of attraction the man, but she was certain that he was married to a certain Wakaba Isshiki because the two of them had two children together. She later came to find out that they were in a different sort of family arrangement and the two of them were more platonic than anything. She found love and a new family in Sojiro Sakura and his children, and they lived happily ever after!

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Random shit while I have a headache again.

The Eclipses Show AU Edition!

Solar treats Backup and Original as his brothers once they get through the awkward adjustment phases. Solar doesn’t exactly have a good relationship with either of his brothers so he actually secretly does like having Backup and Original around because it feels like he finally has someone that cares about him.

Backup has physical backlash from the star. Namely occasional seizures and memory gaps. The memory gaps are mainly from his time having the star but there’s also a few memory gaps he has from controlled shocks given to him by the OG Blood Moon twins.

Original has high anxiety around wild animals. He just does. He doesn’t know why. In reality, it’s because animals would further break his body while he was offline and his AI developed an irrational fear of wild animals. A wolf was the reason half his leg was missing actually. And a bear was what broke his faceplate and eyes. His internals, for five months, housed a bunny. He’s terrified of most animals.

[rippedstitch-s]

( @ira-langley )

Asa sways. It’s that salty ocean smell that he enjoys - a push back to normalcy. Back to the cliffs and the open windows in Beauford Cross. Does he miss it? Normalcy being a little bed and simple meals, a bevy of medications that keep him complacent and slow? Unaware of... all of this?

A popular song plays in the back of his brain. Faux cheery when played in an echoing rec room, back then.

Somewhere, beyond the sea...

His jacket is buffeted around him. His hair a mess, a scarf that’s already coming untangled where it was once safe around his neck. 

It’s so cold but his body feels warm. Magma beneath his skin.

He’s not… sad, per se. Nor is he angry. Not much of anything. His body doesn’t take in the outside stimulus as it should. It’s just a dull pulsing and wind.

Where he stands doesn't even cross his mind as precarious - and yet where he stands is on top of a bridge. There are no grand feelings or thoughts of ending it all. It's just where he's ended up stopping and standing in another sleepless night with brain fuzzing in and out after a seizure.

He's just taking in the view.

Then he sees someone. A person. Someone he must put the shroud of civility and calm and normal back on for. It's a struggle moreso than other nights. But... "Evening, officer."

[theoi-crow]

Hey there, hope you're doing well! This may be a little bit of a sensitive ask (tw pet death) so please feel free to ignore it, but I was wondering if there were any myths about what happens to our pets when they pass, and/or how to honor them. I was thinking of having a little mini altar for my dog, and to give dog treats as offerings, but I wasn't sure if that was proper. Thanks in advance!!

I'm so sorry for your loss…

The ancient Greeks and Romans loved their dogs a lot and although there aren't a lot of stories about dogs in ancient mythology, we've found a lot of graves and epithets written by grieving owners who had to bury their dogs. Here's an example of one:

"I am in tears, while carrying you to your last resting place as much as I rejoiced when bringing you home in my own hands fifteen years ago."

Here are the rest: (LINK)

Here's a bit more on how the ancient Greeks cherished and loved their dogs. Plato even called them the greatest philosophers because they knew the difference between good and bad people: (LINK)

"The dog was a companion, protector, and hunter for the Greeks and the spiked collar…was invented by the Greeks to protect the necks of their canine friends from wolves." Source: (LINK)

So as you can see, dogs were very important to the ancient Greeks and they memorialized their dogs too so it's okay to put him on your altar. It won't be disrespectful and the gods will understand.

Here are examples of what they'd often look like:

To talk a bit more about my own grieving experience as a Hellenic polytheist and grieving my dog I hope it's okay if I tell you a bit about my own little dog who I lost this past March:

Mourning a dog is so hard because their love for us is so sincere and pure. They love fiercely and protect us as much as they can even when they're so much smaller than whoever they are challenging (my dog was a tiny Maltese Poodle but boy did that dog loved to bark and try to protect me.)

His death came a lot earlier than we expected, he got early onset doggy dementia also known as canine cognitive decline, which is very similar to human dementia.

He began to forget who we were and his health took a nosedive a few months before he passed. We chose to put him down before he got to the final stage (seizures) because as someone who grew up taking care of someone with seizures, I knew he was going to be in excruciating pain. But because he also had dementia he didn't know who we were so I knew he'd be very scared and in excruciating pain with less than a year to live.

Two weeks before his final appointment he lived like a king. He ate all his favorite foods and treats, watched Hamilton everyday (his favorite character was George Washington) and we had the vet come to our apartment so he would be very comfortable since he hated going to the vet.

The Aftermath:

Mourning the loss of a loved one is hard and although we're all familiar with feeling sadness when we grieve, no one ever talks about the guilt and rage that might come over you during your grieving process.

I was angry at my gods

I didn't even know why, I just was. I was mad at them, myself, my spouse, my school, my neighbors, I just wanted to be left alone. But because I was angry at my gods, my Catholic guilt kicked in and I felt guilty for being angry with my gods. I was spiraling because I was trying not to be angry and trying so hard to be sad instead.

But that's when Apollo showed up and I had an honest conversation with him about the guilt behind how I was grieving:

He told me that anger is a natural part of the mourning period. Not everyone will grieve the same but being angry with your gods is normal because when we lose someone who we loved so much there will be a flood of emotions that we didn't know we would feel and forcing them to express in only a sad way keeps you from truly processing your grief. My anger was a part of my grieving process, and so was my confusion and denial of having lost my dog. This was all normal.

I was so overwhelmed with my feelings of rage, guilt, and shame that we left home for a week so I could be away from my altar, my gods and from finding the many dog bones my dog hid before passing.

I desperately needed a break from my gods and they understood.

They weren't upset with me. They knew how much my dog meant to me and how much I loved him, so we left and I was able to process my emotions outside of my home. Prior to this I never understood why people in shows and movies needed to go on a trip when they suffered a loss but after my dog passed I was overwhelmed with the desire to be in nature. To be with Gaia, to be with Demeter. (Two gods I don't normally work with but I desperately needed)

It's okay to go through your own grieving process as it comes. To accept your feelings as they are.

It's okay to feel angry when you're grieving. It's also okay to be angry at your gods because they understand you're grieving. And finally, it's okay to memorialize your dog in whatever way brings you the most comfort.

My dog's little box sits on my altar. He gets his treats and has an electric candle we make sure never turns off. I often mentally see him sitting on Ares' lap or playing fetch with Hermes. He hangs out with my gods and I know my gods don't hold my grieving process against me. They know losing a dog was hard for the ancient Greeks and it's still hard for their modern followers because losing someone who loves you so unconditionally and accepts you for who you truly are without judgment is the hardest thing to do. I wanted to share this with you so you can grieve freely and honor your dog in whatever form brings you the most comfort. The gods understand and they will grieve with you & be there for you.

I personally believe all dogs go straight to the Elysian Fields because dogs are our greatest heroes.

[sleepy-bi666]

hazbin hotel headcanons but its based on my dr- vox edition

autistic but doesn't know he is (due to dying in the 1950s and it being considered "rare")

intersex trans man (uses he/they pronouns)

bisexual

off and on relationship with valentino

glitches a lot when hes stressed/overstimulated

you can literally power him off with a remote (velvette does this whenever he spends too much time in his office)

Very much overprotective

He often forgets to eat

he would've loved Baby Bugs music

literally owns like five pairs of the same outfit

his head makes a pinging noise when he shuts off from low battery

he acts like a sickly victorian child when ill

speaking of being ill, he doesn't get sick often, but when he does it hits hard

he was the oldest child of his family

would literally kill for those he loves

severe trust issues

massive shark hyperfixation (Vark is his favorite pet shark)

if human movies get to hell, his favorites would be M3gan and Afraid

he techinally supports piracy unless its something he owns/created (lmao hypocrite)

i hc he died from a seizure

he essentially raised his siblings (think Luisa vibes from encanto)

[unityrain24]

okay first off i hate ads but second off how in the fuck are they allowed to make flashing ads???? a high percentage of the ads i've seen lately have a bad bright, flashing saturated colours and i'm just like ????? there is no warning to this and you can't like,, skip it? or avoid it or anything?? i mean i'm lucky that i don't get seizures from bright flashing colours but it's a widely known thing that lots of people do?? what the FUCK