#hurt/comfort is my jam

[narwedraws]

Comfort ♡

[emry-stars-art]

Omg PLEASE tell us more about the hurt/ comfort after Neil gets back from evermore after being kidnapped

Oh you know the fun parts to brainstorm 👀👀 First I needed to draw some of the comfort so here’s a sketch:

Anyway this is aftg we’re talking about, specifically Riko and Nathan, so once again; it’s rather vague but take care reading on (or skip to the next bolded sentence for the comfort 💕)

I honestly still don’t have all the specifics on what might happen at Evermore! One option is just to make it very similar to Neil’s canon Christmas break, because the angles are similar: in canon, they want Neil quiet and obedient to play exy and not act out against his treatment, and in this au the only difference is instead of exy it’s… violence, essentially. But let’s be honest. This is a royal au, we have to add some things, right

So the main tenant is “they want Abram to do what he’s told without argument”. In my mind that includes being forced to watch every bit of Nathan’s work and then having to do it himself. Of course, Abram is still stubborn and still hates doing it more than he hates anything else, so it takes a long time for him to hurt or torture or kill anyone the first time he’s asked. Usually there is heavy coercion and harm before he touches anyone.

But the point isn’t to get Abram used to doing it, because he’s already as used to it as he will ever be. The Moriyamas’ focus is more on breaking down the stubborn streak and strong moral compass. The best way to do that, they figure, is to take away his personhood altogether. So Abram is never referred to as a person, and instead they more or less treat him like some inanimate weapon or like a dog. A very volatile, vicious dog. Kennels and muzzles and commands and all. Some starvation and sleep deprivation when they decide it’s “necessary”. Even long into his recovery Abram can’t hear a word like heel or sit without his muscles twitching to do so.

So it’s a mix of the dehumanization and punishment. Riko has almost free reign once again, though Tetsuji will step in at times when he deems it’s too much. (Though I don’t think he considered waterboarding/near drowning every time Abram is made to bathe or shower “too much”.) Near the end of Abram’s time, a week or so before he’s either rescued, somehow returned, or escapes, Tetsuji revokes Riko’s privileges altogether when Riko causes some heavy head injuries that concuss Abram and make him lose his sight for a while. It’s not permanent, but it’s long enough term that when he gets back to Palmetto, Abram takes a long time away from most people to recover. He doesn’t trust himself not to act before he can think when he can’t see his surroundings.

Back at Palmetto, it might take most of them a while to realize how bad it was. Day is most familiar with how Evermore works, but he was still high up in the chain of command and respect, so he wasn’t necessarily familiar with the underworkings like that. Abram was raised in the environment, he is horrifically good at more or less acting normal. And when he’s fully awake and conscious, he’s very good at keeping things separate - people can still touch him with enough warning, he still holds conversation when he has to. The worst things come to light slowly - the first time he wakes up in a flashback Abram and Day immediately decide it’s best if he doesn’t stay around Andrew. So Andrew kind of has to watch from the outside and it kills him. He watches when Abram refuses to bathe, but if he doesn’t get clean the wounds will get badly infected, so Day kind of has to make him. But Andrew can’t help - because as Day expects, Abram panics and Day ends up with several bruised ribs and nearly broken fingers. Abram won’t wear high collared or tight shirts any more, and one time in helping the Queen care for the castle’s hounds Abram has a panic attack when he’s accidentally left alone for too long. There are little punctures over his cheeks and nose in a circle across his face. He has a hard time eating around others. Abram never tells them what happened to him, but Andrew and Day slowly figure it out anyway.

As they figure it out, everyone does their best to adapt. While Abram’s still recovering his sight, Day announces himself and most of his movements. He talks all the way through finally washing and detangling Abram’s hair (even after the long time he spends on it, they have to cut out the worst mats) when Abram tells him it helps to hear a friendly voice in a language that isn’t the Moriyamas’. Day talks more often and more softly than he probably ever has in his life, because he’s made himself Abram’s main caretaker. Not to say he doesn’t make honest mistakes, because they all do, but he’s quick to change his behavior.

Then, when Abram’s almost fully recovered his sight, Day lets him stay with Andrew once more. Now it’s not as much Abram watching out for the prince - he will do his job well enough, but sometimes he still has to step back and away because of course he does. And Andrew’s approach is very different than Day’s. It isn’t as much his voice as it is his presence, or when he uses his calm but direct authority to tell Abram to go to sleep, I’m going to be right here. After Abram’s panic attack in the kennels, Andrew discovers that if there’s nothing around to pull Abram into a panic attack he won’t generally fall into one again after leaving the stressor, and Abram finds great comfort in some grounding hold on some part of him. Usually the back of his neck or his hands. He won’t let Andrew hold a knee or leg when they’re sat together, but he will put his weight against Andrew’s shoulder for balance. Little things that Andrew figures out by asking or trial and error. When Abram slips, accidentally refers to himself as “it” or “thing” - words he’d never use normally and sometimes even flinches from - Andrew learns to stay within arms reach, sometimes talking through his and Abram’s schedule. If it’s bad enough Abram might play with Andrew’s fingers and hands while he does, like he’s trying to make sure he can still touch someone without hurting them. This afternoon we discuss plans for the upcoming festival with Day, Captain Wymack, Abigail, and Aaron and Katelyn, and after we’ll eat. Join me in the garden? Always official, non-confrontational events. Slowly Andrew gets Abram readjusted to eating at a table and speaking without seeking permission first.

But again. There’s a lot of possibilities and things are always subject to change or be added, so this is kind of my jumping off point! (And is half of this summarized from things I’ve written? Yes. But I want to have something else polished and posted first so 👀 I hope to circle back to this soon) Thank you for the ask!! 🥰

[belethlegwen]

G/t WAC - Day 1 (oops I'm late)

First wanna shout out to @entomolog-t for putting so much work into the G/t Writer's Appreciation Challenge. I think it's a very fun, extremely sweet idea and while I know I'm not gonna be able to hit all of these (I am ALREADY LATE for Day 1!!) I'm going to do my best because, especially right now with everything going on in my life, ***I*** could use the push to read more and the idea that everyone is sharing their favourite things and there's so much already available (plus the things that will inevitably be created throughout this month with or without the g/t wac) that seeing it all get shared around is a huge huge boon to my mood right now.

Day One: Share Your Comfort Fic

This probably comes as no surprise, but my comfort fic is by @adjacentperception, from their Rose & LaPorte series (directory link).

I have so many pieces out of this collection of short stories that I adore and find myself going back to when I need something to brighten any given day, but the one I go back to the most often is Witching Hour Curly Fries Pt. 2. It brings me, among so many other things, such a deep catharsis for emotions I have struggled with (and now, thankfully rarely, still struggle with) through the lens of Atticus and his unique situation.

There's something about how real both Atticus and his best friend Quinn feel as people, not just characters, and also how shockingly real Atticus makes the fantastical problem of being 4 inches tall (most of the time) feel to the reader through this piece in particular. There's a connection I felt the first time I read it that I have never stopped being able to come back to; there's something so deep there that hurts me to feel so strongly, that even through fiction and fantasy is still, at the core, so human and emotional.

There are times where you just need to sit with your best friend and talk, even though it isn't fixing anything. Even when the point is for you-- both of you, even-- to come to terms with the fact that the problems go so far beyond what they appear to. That there's something so much deeper, and that it may be genuinely unfixable at that level. That the wrappings and trappings and the portrait of what everyone, possibly including you, think your problems are merely just brought forth deeper issues that you don't know if you can untangle and process, let alone work toward correcting.

It's a beautiful piece to me and I have cried over it so many times for the pain and hope it gives me. Zip is wonderful writer, and always has been. Their characters are so human that they feel like coworkers or roommates to me sometimes, and their ability to find a real, core person in any character they make is one of the reasons I love them so much.

I really can't recommend the Rose & LaPorte series enough. It has more than earned it's place as one of my Permanently Open Tabs, and there's really something for every mood I'm in. I love Zip and all of their precious dingdongs and their adventures. <3

[huniths-muse]

HoA Destinies spoilers under the read more...

Today, I had the urge to reread a scene from Destinies with one of the boys fretting over the other by the campfire while the other is whumped and out of it. And I realized, I've basically nearly bookended the fic with scenes like that. At the beginning it's one of them, and at the end it's the other.

Equal opportunity whump with a healthy dose of hurt/comfort. Because as I hope we all know by now, hurt/comfort is my jam.

[just-existing-as-you-do-blog]

Listen I don't think Ven and Icarus could ever get together except in what if fics BUT what I could see happening is Icarus having a deeply unrequited crush on Ven that they would not be willing to explore because Icarus is under the impression that Fable will be bringing everyone back from the dead. OR post war I could see them developing either a QPR or a romantic relationship as they heal (if they both survive that is.)

[danganphobia]

i think because laios and shuro’s clashes in personalities it’s unavoidable that they will fight during their relationship. who do you think would be the first one to reach out first after a fight? (this is just an attempt to make you write angsty hurt + comfort laishuro)

DRABBLE INCOMING!

Toshiro wasn't sure how many beers he had tonight. He sat next to other patrons, the number of guests dwindling as the hours passed. He just wanted to get so drunk he wouldn't have to experience a sober thought until the next morning.

This bar was quiet, two blocks away from their university campus - compared to the ones on the flashier side of town where most students went on Friday and Saturday nights to party hard and forget about responsibilities for the weekend.

For Toshiro, beers sounded more tempting than any club to wash away the stress of exams and back-to-back assignments.

When he asked for another refill, his vision started to blur. Next thing he knew, he heard another voice within earshot.

"He's been here for the past three hours."

"Don't worry, I'll pay for it."

"Uh, that's kind of you, but he's already paid for the whole night."

"Then I'll tip you extra."

Toshiro groaned, facepalming. He didn't have to look to know who it was that just showed up. Laios leaned his body against the counter, trying to peek at his face.

"Kabru said you'd be here."

Saying nothing, Toshiro finished his last beer.

Laios' carried him back to campus on piggyback. It's silent, save for the occasional cars driving through.

"Why did you come?" Toshiro asked stubbornly, the alcohol he drank made him lightheaded. If it weren't for Laios, he'd be unable to walk - but the idiot didn't need to know that. Just two weeks ago, Toshiro remembered storming out of that party Namari and Kabru invited him to, with Laios following after him, asking what his problem was, and everyone outside looking on in curiosity.

"My problem?" Toshiro had asked, sneering. "Don't you see it? This - we - doesn't work! I'm sick of it! All I ever get are stares when I tell them-"

"You're with me," Laios finished with a bitter nod, stopping Toshiro in his tracks. "If you're that embarrassed to be with me, why didn't you say so?"

That was the killer. When Toshiro noticed the eyes on them, Laios staring right at him with disappointment and hurt, Toshiro decided to admit defeat. He had only given a sour apology, leaving the party without another word.

They hadn't talked to each other since then. Toshiro stopped coming to club meetings because he didn't want to risk running into Laios, and unfortunately, Laios was always present. It was fine, their campaign could go on without Toshiro considering where they'd left off anyway.

"Why did I come?" Laios repeated the question, exhaling as he contemplated his answer. "I don't know, actually."

This was why Toshiro couldn't stand him sometimes. He was a very logical person. This was how he was raised, otherwise he'd never be fit to be heir of his father's company. Laios Touden didn't need a reason to do the things he did.

"I don't get it," Toshiro mumbled. This should make him a walking red flag, after all. This was the guy who was known for smoking pigs at clubs, did kegstands at frat parties, and could squirt milk out his eyelids for the hell of it. He was the kind of guy that would make a pristine rich kid's parents like Toshiro's have a heart attack if Laios told them what he'd been up to. They were polar opposites; someone Toshiro would've avoided if it weren't for their mutual friends. "After everything I said to you, you still came to see me."

"Yeah." Laios said, like there was nothing odd about it. It only pissed Toshiro off even more.

"Why?"

"I can't just leave you there. What if you passed out in the middle of the street?"

Toshiro snorted, scoffing. "You are aware that I practice martial arts?"

Laios laughed. "I don't doubt you can probably kick my ass while drunk. Then again, you didn't." Instead, Toshiro was clinging to his back, Laios' cyprus scent calmed him, as it was so welcoming. He hated that. It should make him nauseous if anything. "I can't say for any other stranger that would see you this vulnerable."

"I can take care of myself," Toshiro huffed. "You shouldn't have come."

"I don't care if you're mad at me, because I've already forgiven our fight."

"That's - that's preposterous -" Toshiro sputtered in defense, "Why continue to torment yourself by being seen with me?"

Laios chuckled. "Who said being with you was tormenting?"

Toshiro stayed quiet.

"You might think so, so I'll just have to prove myself to you. Lucky for me, I don't really care what people think," Laios explained, pausing at a stop light. Toshiro's eyes widened when Laios turned his head slightly with a gentle smile. "And you shouldn't either."

Toshiro's heart pounded in his chest. The traffic sign flashed - as Laios was permitted to cross the street.

"Yeah, you were an asshole at that party. But at the end of the day, it doesn't change my feelings for you. I think," Laios sighed, "if you like someone, if you really really like someone, you should let them know as much as you can."

Toshiro reached for Laios' ear and tugged on it.

"Ack!" The noise Laios' made in pain just made Toshiro pull on it tighter until he let go. "What was that for?!" He asked, pouting.

"It's easy for you to say," Toshiro said bitterly. "I've spent my whole life trying to live up to the expectations of others. I don't just do impulsive, stupid things out of my own free will. Which is why - I don't even understand why I have feelings for you, either..."

"Toshiro..."

"I am not worth this trouble. You misguide yourself."

"That's not true," Laios countered in earnest. "Tell yourself that all you want, but to me, you're worth it."

Silent and brooding, Toshiro buried his neck deep into the crook of Laios' shoulder to hide the scarlet in his cheeks.

Laios was like a leech that wouldn't pull himself off Toshiro even if Toshiro tried.

And he'd never admit how nice it felt, to be around someone who didn't expect much from him; just his presence, so they could exist together in a world so unpredictable. The air felt easier to breathe the longer they remained, just being.

[peapodfics]

Mess

By: wheat_bus

Sick Dazai, Chuuya takes care of him!!

Thumbnail art by @lotus-pear!! <33

[absurdumsid]

i never really loved you

best nightmare sequence ever

i dont love the same way anymore (if i do at all) by fishy bishie Guide! Sans/Mori belongs to lyrikke HorrorPills! Sans is my martyr

[jojosbizarrekakyoinobsession]

To everyone else: I hope you have a wonderful day :)

To Jotakak: I hope you have a wonderful day, or don’t. Please don’t because I want to see Jotaro cry like a big baby and find comfort and happiness in Nori’s arms, and vice versa. :)

[cage-cat-yt]

Pride month art challenge day 1: MH Jam

Was also gonna be lesbian Jessica + ally Brian and Alex, but this took more out of me than I anticipated and my stomach is hurting a lot today, so I'm saving them for other days :3

[magnoliasforyourmedic]

I guarantee all of the jokes the boys made about him using the morphine on himself hurt Doc’s feelings. Can you imagine giving so much of yourself towards caring for these boys only to be treated like that? I understand they were just joking but it feels like such an insult that they’d even joke about that sort of thing.

[i-ran-into-a-lampost]

Everybody decided that this guy needs to go through hell like canon wasn't enough for y'all PLEASE

[blog-of-reaction]

So….I’m in love. (And also screwed, so very very screwed because my sister is visiting which is awesome but between that and work I probably won’t be able to binge watch the entirety of 9-1-1 Lone Star.) which I guess could be a good thing, as it’ll give me more time to marinate in it’s awesomeness.

[sallowsunshine]

MC was able to take away Anne's curse, but in order to prevent her from losing all emotion, the curse had to be transferred to MC. Summer before year 6, MC isolates herself, not wanting anyone to know.

[alonelystargazer]

there's gonna be an ItaFushi week event on twitter and I need to write something for it or I'm gonna 🤯

[littlelostmabari]

Day 4: Deep Roads

Rating: T (hurt / no comfort), 720 Words (the gif makes sense I promise)

Jorah thinks it will be the sunshine he will miss the most.

For a day or so, it was the rumble of loyal Barnabus when he snuck an apple into the war horse's oat bucket in the mornings. Barnabus would rumble and grumble that they weren't out running, but an apple would soothe until the straps of the leather could be tightened and gear packed up behind the old worn saddle. The horse still had a bit of a limp from the Hurlock arrow three years ago. Jorah had tenderly removed the arrowhead and packaged the wound with sugar and elfroot, then spent the rest of the day brushing and carefully braiding Barnabus' mane while whispering who's a good boy and it's just a little tick, you're alright boy because Barnabus had always gotten him out of far worse scrapes than a little Hurlock arrow. Konas always said Jorah was a better friend to his horse than he was to any of his brothers.

Konas was the one who led Barnabus away this morning, leaving Jorah with his kit and his gear and the memory of apple rumbles.

Konas would be missed too, of course. Jorah would miss the easy laughter, the roughness of the palm that would come down on his back when Konas thought he did something especially funny. He'd miss teasing the boy about his razor burn and the bits of morning oatmeal he never managed to get out of his whiskers. He thought for a time that the verbal sparring that accompanied the clashing of their practice swords would be the thing he missed most.

The youngest of the new blood, Konas was still too young to have accepted his fate. He hissed and argued and holed himself away in the larder for the last forty-eight hours before Jorah was set to leave. Their superior officer had to order him to accompany Jorah to the final camp — both as penance for his tantrum and also as a lesson. All things end.

All things end. Jorah had spent the evening thinking about those endings, before he had to force his mind to wander back.

There was a long hour or two where he had convinced himself that the thing he would miss the most was the green of trees and the brown of hills and the blue of water and the white of the bespeckled night sky. He knew that he would forget those colors, the smell of the autumn Ferelden air turning the leaves from emerald to amber, where the rot of the logs and mud would clump under his bootheel and he'd have to scrub them in front of the campfire to make sure he could pull them onto his feet the next day.

There were things he already missed, and had missed for a long time. The taste of his brothers wine, pulled to early from the aging barrel because I made it, Jorah, I'm allowed to sample. His mother's homemade jam, where she always failed to fully smash the berries and the result was always juicy and sweet when he bit into a little bit of it slathered across the fresh bakery bread.

He didn't think he'd miss the smell of Denerim, but he did. For years. The smell of people and animals and bars and whorehouses and warehouses and the days and nights filled with the dirty, rotten, wonderful city life.

But, in the end, his thoughts turned, as they always did, to the sun. Hair the color of late-summer wheat that shimmered in the Solis sunshine. The frown that pulled at lips when clouds teased, and the smile that reappeared as they passed. The feeling of laughter and the sound of fingertips passing over his skin. Nights that burned sometimes like flash paper, and others that made sugar syrup seem fast-flowing. The music of a voice that he strained to recall other than that, in a pocket of his stomach, something was heavy and warm and ached if he lingered too long on days long past.

That pain was worth it today.

As Jorah slid his daggers into his belt, adjusted his pack on his left shoulder, and scuffed the fire out with a shuffle of boot and lose dirt, he drowned the Calling with sunshine.

If there was a Maker, there would be sunshine at the end of this too.