#unhealthy way of coping fr.

[matilsabell]

Y’know , regarding the scars on the sisters ( or the girls/ladies in general ) they gotta have battle scars somehow. There’s absolutely no way they don’t , especially in the kind of environment they live in. Some are more vicious than others and some are mentally unstable. Due to their hatred for their lives ( and despairing moments of realisation of their situation ) surely they want to take it out on something- SOMEONE.

It’s my take though. That’s why I drew Jessica and scarlet having small barely noticeable scars ( even though I the drawing says otherwise. It’s just to show where the placement is)

[pricetagged]

sacrum

It's not denial, and it's not grief. How can it be when you're not dead? Or: Simon visits your tomb. It wouldn't be the first time he got grave dirt under his fingernails.

2.7k words. GN reader.

Warnings: death; grief; unhealthy coping methods; denial; mild gore and horror; references to ghost's past (being buried alive); implied character death; unhealthy thoughts; grave digging (simon literally tries to dig you up).; unedited.

Look after yourselves please. Read the tags and skip if necessary 💖

_____________

He is overwhelmed with the smell of rot.

That sickly, sweet scent of decay. Vegetation and plant matter transmuting into sticky, pulpy mulch, life rendered into dirt. It's the white lilies that bother him specifically. They're resting there, creamy white petals blooming open and speckled with dustings of heady, brown pollen. It's like looking at his own pale, wan face dusted with pockmarks and freckles, a grotesque mirror image. Beauty and rage. He looks at them and they look back, open and pretty and sweet where he is not.

And they reek. In this place of dirt, in this place of twigs and soil and peaty, earthy humus how did they spray their perfume? An altogether too syrupy, cloying bouquet that stagnates around you, settles at his feat like dense, soupy fog.

He knew that you hated them - funeral flowers, you called them- and he scoffs, toeing at one of the drooping, lurid white petals until it wilts underfoot. Lachrymose, it seems to weep great fat droplets of dew or oil or whatever it is that cries out wet with a wave of pungent redolence. You hated them, and it's so fucking stupid that they're here now because you aren't dead.

He'd nearly bitten Johnny's head off when he asked about your favourite flowers, the sergeant's voice pitched low and thick like he'd half-swallowed the words before they'd even come out. 'Dinnae want to get her something she wouldnae like, but my ma always said that carnations were fittin' for-' the rest of the words seemed to whither, choked like weeds under the weight of his glare. He wasn't quite sure what he said next, only remembering the stricken, glassy look in Soaps eyes and then the weight of his Captain's hand on his shoulder hauling him out for some air. He'd shrugged that off, too. Roughly. Circled around to face him like a dog in a pit. His teeth ached, itched to bite, clamp down and shake and tear, but even mad dogs know not to bite the hand that feeds them. Instead, he'd bristled, hackles raised high as he shoulder-checked Gaz on his way back inside.

Heard them whisper, too, as he passed, hushed and soft like they were all too aware of his pricked ears and quivering, hungry jaw. Mandated compassionate leave, numbers for bereavement counsellors. Denial. Grief. It's a load of shit.

Holding back the words feels like throwing grit on the fire; it's a battle, suppressing the heat and the rage but feeling it pop and spark and simmer beneath the surface. It's not denial and it's not grief. How can it be when you're not dead? He'd crumpled the order of service program, all crisp white parchment and serif-fonted verses. He'd held it so tightly in his shaking hand that it tore and cracked, card-type rendered to clay under his heavy fingerprints. He held it like that, thought about ripping or tossing it but your face looked back at him from the front page.

Smiling. Beautiful. Flat.

True, it wasn't you, but how could he ever damage something made in your image?

It was that pamphlet that led him here, now. He hadn't attended the service, hadn't wanted anything to do with that absolute farce. Had ignored the phone calls, the knocks on the door. You were not dead, and he was not alive. True to his callsign, he existed in some hazy, temporal space. Sustained on rollie cigarettes and tepid tea. It gave his hands something to do, thumbing at filters and glossy, thin paper in lieu of something worse. In lieu of his darker vices. In lieu of disappearing altogether into The Ghost. Faceless form. Nameless, too. But even smoke and shadows move, and he found himself turned Orpheus, drifting past the souls and shades of the departed until-

Until he's face-to-face with those lilies and that little patch of moss on the corner of your grave. Just a little speck of green against black marble. Typical of you, to bring life into desolate spaces. For you to furnish something soft and verdant where others see only hard, cold, dark. You'd burrowed deep into his driftwood body, a little seed that cared not for his splinters and hollowness. He'd been shaped, fractured, by salt and pressure. Twisted into some gnarled, dead branch but maybe that was the beauty of it. Maybe that was a portent, a sign, that he could be useful to you. That you could climb on, cling on and let him pull you up. That you were nestled inside, marrow deep in the mulchy, spongey hollows of his bones. Not hard enough or weathered enough by yourself. No sun-bleached, ossein outer shell of your own.

No matter.

The soil was strangely warm, piled high, and packed tight above where you lay. He dug his hands in, scarred, meaty paws chasing the warmth that surely was coming from you. It was wrong, actually, to say that it was strange. Anywhere that housed you would be warm. He was. His lungs were burning, squeezing at him, oxygen burning like bourbon as it whistled down his throat and smouldered in his belly. His face was cold, though, mouth and nose numb and something wet leaking and pooling down at his chin where he's tugged down his mask. Confusion titled his head, eyes closed towards the sky, neck arched in the closest he'd come to prayer in years. It wasn't raining, but something was dripping down his face.

He'd knelt like this before, put loved ones into the earth and stood stoic under the pitiful gazes and awkward, pinched smiles of acquaintances and strangers. Unbidden, the words from Tommy's - god, Tommy, Joseph, Beth - funeral echoed through his mind. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable.

He'd done it.

Walked in shadow steps across the Mexican border leaking blood and viscera, yes, but undead. It is raised in glory, it is sown in weakness. He'd clawed his way out once. Dragged his weak, struggling body to the surface to draw gasping, ash-tainted breaths and haunt the earth again. He'd help you do the same. You need him to.

Soft thing. You needed him to help you claw at the rich, grave dirt above your body, great scooping handfuls until his hands were stained with it. It was keeping you down there all compressed and boxed in, and he just knows you'd hate it. Hate being from him, hate being alone and in the dark listening only to the writhing of worms and the footfalls from above. You'd always cry a little when he was deployed, resigned and beautiful as you sniffled your farewells. Not goodbyes, superstition or hope preventing you from ever uttering words so final. So severe.

It's not goodbye if I'll see you later!

He swatted hard at his ear, his temples, fingers puppeted by paroxysm as the rich, peaty marl below him turned to dust and loam. Just for a second. Just for a whisper, the air he was breathing was thin and acrid and tasted like sand. He squeezed his eyes shut, screwed so tight that phosphenes danced behind the lids. One breath. Another. He could feel the soil caking and cracking on his skin, smell the heady, peaty turf and he was back.

The last enemy that will be destroyed is death. There was no Vernon here. No Manuel Roba, no Zaragoza Cartel. Just you, the dirt, and the foolish reaper that thought it could keep you from him.

After all those years grave dirt lingered beneath his fingers. It slotted in, filled in the groves of his knuckles and nailbeds like the tide returning to rockpools and crags along the shore. His body was made for this, forged by this, hewn from rock and dirt and left to shamble in the shape of a man. It's why he was numb to it, why stones crumbled to pumice dust as he clawed ever deeper. It was easy to ignore the jagged little pits of sediment that dug under his nails, stabbing until he dripped red from the quick. Watering your grave, he gave an offering of blood, sweat, and tears. You must have accepted this tribute, been satisfied in this champion for your soul because he felt something tugging at his chest. Deep, behind muscle and fat and gristle his heart sped up. Pounding so hard it nearly hit his ribs. He could feel it, see it when he closed his eyes. His red string connected to yours, all twisted and threadbare and fraying where it bored down into the earth, but still there. Still vibrant and raw and red.

And so close.

It was different digging down. When he'd first been reborn, he'd had company. There was him, and a lump of festering meat. A sack of bones moldering beside him in the casket. Dead and useless. Until it wasn't. Until he'd nearly passed out twice, arm shaking and stomach seizing as he raised his broken fingers to what used to be its face. There was no air, just lungs heavy with copper and carbon. He'd been hysterically lucid, thankful that that sick fucks had at least broken his nose before they tossed him in the pit. Probably severed his olfactory nerves but it was a blessing, really, not to smell the putrid, festering thing that was oozing over his fingers as he scratched and gouged until he hit bone. He had enough of his senses to kick at the boards above him, contorting around the hollow spots in the hope that the pressure of the dirt wouldn't do him in. Not killed by fucking soil, not when the bastards who wanted him dead had already tried and failed with greater means.

Digging up was like drowning. Like being dragged away by a current, water pressing and squeezing at your head until your ears popped and your eyes bulged.

It was fighting the urge to breathe, body struggling and kicking so hard against a nature that didn't care. Cruelty from indifference. Lactic acid burning and cramping through muscles that you couldn’t stop moving. Stop moving and you're dead for real. Digging up was rage and hope, something fiery and heavy pulsing under the skin. He remembered some poem he had to memorise back at the state comprehensive. Hope is the thing with feathers. He was shit at English, never cared for it. But he remembered that because it was so bloody trite. He'd told the teacher, first time he'd ever volunteered an answer in her class, and she screwed her nose up at him. Sent him out for cheek. Only it wasn’t cheek. Hope was the worm wriggling around in his guts. The stupid parasite that fed off his fear and made him wonder if he could be purged of it. Those same maggots writhed in his guts, wriggling and squirming as he kicked and pulled up. And up. And up.

Digging down, though. Digging down was harder. He wasn't getting dragged down by the current; no, he was sloshing great bucketfuls of water behind him, wondering why the ocean wasn't yet drained. It was frustrating, endless. Some kind of wank Greek tragedy where he'd been cursed to repeat the same task, over and over again. To have what he wanted, just out of reach, the finishing line set and reset at someone else's whim. Tantalus, Orpheus, Prometheus. He knew what they'd done to offend the Gods, but what about him? What bargain had Shepard and Price struck to have him back? To have him stalk and hunt under their flags, their causes. Would you disappear forever, trapped in the caves of the underworld if he tried to look at you one last time?

His body wasn’t his anymore, hadn't been for a while. Not since Mexico, and maybe even before that. He was more ghoul than man then. Some kind of shambling hellhound they set loose and tasked to kill. But his body wasn't theirs either, not anymore. He'd folded you inside himself so carefully. Made a home for his heart and yours in the cradle of his ribs until he wasn't sure where yours began and his ended. He gave his body in service to you. His heart, his mind, the gristle of his ugly mug - all those chunks of meat were yours. What use was he, then, if he couldn't protect you?

Six-foot-something and 200lbs of weapon rendered flesh, and you're damned bloody right he'd use it to reach you.

Except, something was broken. Salt stung at his eyes; whether perspiration or tears he wasn't entirely sure. Because there were tears, he could admit that now. He could admit that to the magpies watching him from the cracked, weather-worn tombstones littered around. He could admit that in the thick silence - heh, quiet as the grave - settling eerily as dusk fell like a blanket.

'Fuck.'

Regret punched him in the liver, bent and stooped him under his face was buried in the upturned earth below his hands. The first word he'd said to you since his last mission and it was 'fuck'. He didn't even say it properly, just gasped it out as he crumpled in on himself like wet tissue. Voice all damp and cracking like even that one word didn't want to come out. Soul of a poet, him.

You knew he wasn't a man of many words, though. You'd forgive him.

He was tired now. Exertion drank from him, stripped him down to his crypt-cold bones. He didn't think ghosts got tired, but here he was shaking and kneeling in the hollow of your grave like a starving mutt. Pawing and pawing at you until his nails cracked and his fingers bled. It was sapping out of him, now, candle in his chest flickering lower as he got closer and closer to where you were waiting for him. His face was wet, the wind stinging at bitter trails that swelled over his pallid cheeks. Blinking sluggishly, he licked at his cracked lips. Apprehension lingered there, danced along the seam for a second.

Whatever he finds down there, whatever state you are in he will join. You will rise together or rot together, there is no other way this can go.

His breaths catch in his ribs, jumping too quickly past his diaphragm but not quite strong enough to breach. Instead, they flutter downwards. Or something does, something sets his fingers to shake as they brush against polished wood slick with condensation. It's so cold, you must be so fucking cold in there. It sounds hollow, too, knock reverberating like a church bell from where his clumsy, swollen knuckles bump across the lid.

A person cannot enter the realm of the dead more than once. Not while they're alive. So this is it.

And he's so tired, thoughts turning sluggish and foggy as he folds his body over yours. There's just that panel of wood separating you now. The closest you've been to each other in weeks. Christ, he's given so much of himself already. So much, from such a young age. He's not sure he could even go on without giving, without a mission. But he swore to you, swore just before he left that this was the last one. Told you that he'd speak to Price, ask for family leave or an active service break or something so that you and he -

so that -

so-

Fuck, he couldn't quite catch the thought before it slipped away. Couldn't quite get his eyes to open, either. Just feathery lashes fluttering against his cheekbones until he gave in. Until he let them drift shut.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to fall asleep here. Just you and him, together. He could picture it; your head must be somewhere just below his. You'd probably tucked a hand under your cheek, angled slightly to the right so that he could reach out and touch you from his left. His hand slid across the slick, dirt speckled board, tapping out the syllables of your name with his fingertips. Curled around each other, forever, in the cold, dark earth.

________________

Sorry, I hurt our boy 😢 Not really confident in doing Simon's PoV - I always write from reader's perspective but, uhh, not really possible here. Just had to get the idea out bc it's been rolling around in here, gathering dust. Maybe it's been done before? Idk.

Some biblical, wuthering heights, and Greek myth references. And no shade to emily dickinson; that's ghost's opinion, not mine!

Knight ghost part ii will be out this week (finally lol, yay). Then some of the other stuff I've banged on about.

[chron0ph0bia]

you parents constantly telling u the shit that you've been trying to unlearn surely is smth

[biasbuck]

BiAsBuck’s ficrec Fridays

We're so back baby! Happy weekend everyone, apologies for the delay whilst I've been away travelling. I HAVE been reading lots on my trains however, so here's another round of the fic I've been reading this fortnight whilst not actively flailing over the glorious new episodes. As always you can find previous rec lists here. Some light spoilers for new episodes.

6 October 2024

still the bone remembers, still it wants by @eddiebabygirldiaz in which 'Eddie goes to therapy and learns how to want. Buck helps.' Ohhh I absolutely adored following along on this ride as a wip and now it's complete in all its glory! From his childhood responsibilities looking after his sisters, through the events of season 4 and 5, Eddie struggles with identifying what he wants in life, and Frank gives him homework to make a list of simple desires for just himself. What follows is a beautiful journey of unpacking what's in his heart, with the most gorgeously in love and enamoured Buddie. The imagery in this fic melted me, from the orange tree to dancing and more. Indulgent in the best possible way. I'm still swooning from how much they love and laugh together!

tell you my sins (sharpen your knife) by @sonofatoasterwaffle from sweetness to....Hot Priest Smut! (And yet somehow, still sweet?!) This is gloriously fun and filthy and a little tongue in cheek crack treated seriously, in which Eddie deals with his recognition of his feelings for Buck by fucking a Priest about it....and makes Fleabag eat her heart out. It's 'for anyone who dreams about reclaiming pieces of the religion that hurt them in a fun and sexy way.' Featuring incredibly funny Bobby along the way. Poor guy.

oh what a terrible honor it's been (to learn that my blessings are things you call sins) by @capseycartwright on the other end of the Catholic Guilt explorations comes this 'Hey God, it's me, Eddie. I hope you don’t mind that I’m sitting in your house thinking gay thoughts.' In which Eddie seeks various methods of support in dealing with the fallout from season 7, from therapy to a veterans group to reexamining his childhood and his relationship with God. Really beautifully achey and cathartic and uplifting.

Take My Oxygen (This Plane is Going Down) by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels ahhh I had so much fun reading this! Buck is a succubus, and the firefam a mix of fae and humans in the know about the magical world. Eddie is a new recruit, and he can't help but find Buck mesmerising as they become best friends. But Buck has been coping with his inadvertently fatal (to his partners) natural state through a series of unhealthy mechanisms and it's taking its toll. When we say Eddie would step over the body to help support Buck...this is this fic! And yet it's also so supportive and sexy and a weaves in canon in such surprisingly effective ways!

the moon don't hang quite as high by @glorious-spoon in which 'after Bobby and Chris leave, Buck breaks up with his boyfriend, tries not to punch his new boss, and worries about Eddie.' I am so incredibly obsessed with the dialogue in this fic, it captures Buck and Eddie's voices and idiosyncrasies so well and the patter of their banter and friendly bickering, particularly how weird they are about their own and each others relationships (affectionate.)

The Write Way To Love by @spotsandsocks this was such a cute AU, in which Buck is an anxious children's fantasy author and Chris (and Eddie) are some of his biggest fans. Running an art competition for children to submit their drawings to be printed in his next book, the elusive E. Buckley makes a rare public appearance and bumps into single Dad Eddie, where sparks fly. Can Buck get over the voice in his head self sabotaging his path to happiness? This fic hit very close to home and I had so much fun reading it, and loved Christopher's voice in it so much!

a sweetheart (to hold when i'm alone) by @clusterbuck at all times on my Give That Man A Cat agenda, directly following on from the zoom call in 8x01, Eddie finds a stray in his back yard, adopts her and falls in love. Things might not be healed with Chris but perhaps they can take tentative steps forward. Eddie holding on to the mask even as it fractures, and yet not giving up, finding inner strength and outlets for all the love he holds in his heart.

cool dry place by @gayeddieagenda 'After a long summer, Buck and Eddie try to figure out if this is the right time.' Another which just nailed the voices so well, I love the patience of this fic, a really lovely look at restraint and allowing grace time to heal and feel surety, without punishing characters for needing time, and with a beautiful sense of precipice for a new relationship.

And finally two tumblr fics from @hotshotsxyz, the taste of iron a powerful alternate ending following 8x01 (what if Buck hadn't tackled Gerrard) with a brilliantly effective mirroring of the shooting arc, and a hilarious Brad Torrence POV fic from 8x02 this method acting (might pay our bills) in which we hear his inner monologue whilst riding in the back of the stolen fire engine with Bobby and Buck. Perfection!

That's it for this week, bee seeing you soon after Athena and Jem land this plane!

[revivemyreverie]

Rev when reading time let’s GO

hi yoomf if its too much thats fine but uh offers up my pastel guns of death and mr electric

Nutshell explanations uh

🧸70 smth chr. but 22 biologically, vv sweet cope kind if ur nice to him if ur not uh u get jail time in unending loop of the worst day you've ever had ^-^

🚀19. Imagine shojo boysmell older brother who used to be a bully and still has a bit of that in him but overall is very chill. Also engineer major lmao

🔗 immortal so idk if it applies but lets just say 18💀. actual delinquent whos very stubborn about what he believes in but willing to fight tooth and nail for the people he finds worthy

omg ofc oomf ^_^ collecting all ur ocs like pokemon hehehe

🧸 lotsie:

gallerian morta 🧺what if we both had abandonment issues and wanted eien 🖐️

da synergy with their disposition is nice u_u … my diplomatic pacifist calm soothing smileys who care for the dorm… nothings wrong with having a severe attachment to the construct of dorm members guys

an interesting dichotomy is perhaps how they view da concept of everyone leaving you 🧐 gallerian’s less nihilistic, and arguably more romanticized about it — considers it something akin to a bird finally leaving its nest. maybe, probably?...

🚀 saturn:

swipes occult prez elaine perleau @ u 🥛 ^_^ commander of evil dolls (infested with ghost friends. his fear abt dolls coming to life has been realized). tie her dolls to rockets i think itd be funny

when they both terrorise each other w/o knowing 💀 elaine’s not very good with social people or loud noises or like. anything. this world is terrifying. turns into the screaming man portrait when she sees his explosives attached to mr guinness III (doll she left lying around)

she seems to have no problem with blasting and exploding enemies on online games, though?…

🔗 durante:

gives u a bird girl… 🦂da aesthetics matchup in my head…

she’s somewhat of a demigod herself! or well. a creature who delegates (not) justice. gives you your last meal on deathrow before you enter the cycle to reincarnate ^_^. satine’s been let off her role recently.

generally speaking, she’s not the one who slams the gavel and decides whose evil, and doesn’t seem to have any particular opinion of those she deals with. if I say foils with dude tied up with what he considers right and girl whose indifferent despite supposedly embodying it ☝️moral dilemma but it’s not so in your face

[whumperofworlds]

Whumptober 2024 Days 6/15: Heroics

Now on AO3!

TAGS: @gala1981 @whumptober-archive @crash-bump-bring-the-whump @rebelxwriter @expressionless-fr

@fourwingedsnake @whumble-beeee @whumpninja @kingxlinkwrites

CWs: blood, unconsciousness, near death, argument, food mention, male whumpee, male caretaker, whumpee x caretaker.

FANDOM: Final Fantasy Crystal Chronicles

A/N: Nothing to say here, let's roll!

I only own Gulru, Rae, and Ambra. Everything else belongs to Square Enix.

ENJOY!

_____

Unhealthy coping mechanisms / healed wrong / "It's not my blood."

Painful hug / moment of clarity / "I did good, right?"

Gulru nearly screamed when Rae entered their shared home, covered in blood. Immediately, Gulru jumped from his bed and rushed towards his boyfriend, gently taking his shoulders as if Rae was a fragile vase. He studied over his body, noting the cuts and bruises on his beloved's skin.

Rae, as usual, however, smiled with a shrug, knowing what Gulru was thinking.

"Don't worry, Gully," he said, "it's not my blood. See?" He held up an arm for Gulru to see. While the green blood indeed wasn't Rae's, the fact that some of it was close to his cuts worried Gulru. If he didn't get his wounds taken care of and get himself cleaned up, they would be infected.

"Here…" Gulru whispered gently, taking Rae's hand and leading him to the rocking chair. He gently helped Rae sit down, as Gulru went towards the bathroom to gather some medicine. When he came back, he saw that Rae tried to get back on his feet. Immediately, Gulru rushed forward to force him to sit back down. "Pl-please don't move. You'll make your wounds worse."

"But I still have some heroics to do!" Rae whined, "Someone's in trouble out there, and I have to help them!"

"But you…" Gulru gulped, unsure of what to say to his beloved. He hated to create an argument, even though Gulru was in the right here. He knew Rae for many years; the Clavat always wanted to be a hero, and after the miasma was gone, Rae had been going out to defeat monsters lately. To be a hero, he said.

"What?" Rae questioned as Gulru used a Cure spell on Rae's wounds. The wounds closed up, as he glanced at his Yuke with worry in his eyes. "What's going on, Gully?"

"...I…" Gulru stuttered, as he took a bandage and wrapped it around Rae's arm. The blood began to seep through it, making him cringe.

Gulru wasn't sure what to do in this situation. Should he tell Rae to stop? No. It wouldn't be fair if he did that. Rae loved to be a hero, and it would hurt Rae if he told him to stop. But the worry remained. What if Rae never came home from his heroics? What would Gulru do if that ever happened?

"...Never mind," Gulru shook his head. "Just… promise me you'll be careful, okay?"

Rae nodded with a smile. "Of course I'm careful, Gully. I'm strong after all! I know my way around a fight."

"...Yes, you do," Gulru said, knowing that Rae was right. Rae, during the caravan years ago, was always the one to take charge. While his best friend, Ambra, protested that, Rae always proved himself by defeating anything or anyone that got in his way.

"So Gully," Rae said, as he stretched, "what's for dinner tonight? I'm starving after my heroic deeds."

"Oh!" Gulru said, "Y-yes, I was getting ready to cook some pork chops for you."

"Oh swell!" Rae said, perking up, "I'll go ahead and get cleaned up then. Thanks, Gully, you're the best!" He stood from the chair, pecking Gulru on the nose, before he went into the bathroom to clean up.

Gulru let out a sigh. Hopefully that Rae understood what he was getting into, and that he was more careful in the future.

____

Every day, without fail, Rae came home covered in blood and injuries, and Gulru had to patch him up. It was routine at this point; Gulru was still worried over his beloved, especially when he came home a few times tired. However, Gulru kept his mouth shut—he knew better than to tell Rae to stop. It would break the Clavat's heart if he did so.

Today, however, he wished he had said something.

As he sat on the rocking chair, reading a book, Ambra bursted through the door, tears welling up in her eyes as she heaved a few deep breaths. Gulru jumped when his friend appeared, and upon seeing how distressed she was, his concerns grew. Not only that, but Rae hadn't come home yet. Did that mean…?

"Rae's hurt!" Ambra sobbed, "H-he came back, and he's hurt badly! The healers said they don't know if he'll make it!"

Gulru's eyes would be wide by now if he had them. His heart nearly stopped in shock, as he stood up so fast he felt dizzy for a second. The book was forgotten as he rushed out with Ambra to the town's infirmary.

Gulru never thought he could run so quickly, but knowing that Rae was likely dying, he ran as fast as he could. Within a minute, he arrived at the infirmary. Many healers, a few he didn't recognize from around Tipa, were gathered around, using their White Magic to heal someone. Some were speaking loudly, as Gulru's nerves grew as his body shook.

He tried to push past the healers, but one of them stopped him.

"Sir," she said, "you can't come near him. We're working on him now."

"B-b-but…" Gulru whimpered, "he needs me! What if I never get to say goodbye to him if he dies? What if—"

"He should be fine," the healer hushed him gently, "we're doing everything we can to save him. Barging in like this could distract us. Please, sir, wait outside."

As the woman talked, Gulru spotted Rae, and his heart dropped at the pitiful sight, and his mouth would be gaped open if he had one. Tears pricked at the corners of his eye holes.

Rae's body was full of cuts and bruises, with one injury a huge gash on his chest—chances were the slash hit his heart. His eyes were closed, as if he was in a peaceful sleep, and his breathing was labored as another healer used a Cure spell on him.

It was the worst state Gulru had ever seen Rae in. Much worse than the few times he came home injured.

Tears fell then, as his heart broke. But anger—an unusual emotion he very rarely had—began to bubble inside him. Anger at Rae for putting himself in that position, and at himself for not saying anything.

With a sigh to calm himself down, he left the room, where Ambra waited for him. Gulru took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself down, but the anger and fear remained.

"Gulru…?" Ambra questioned, tilting her head. She had never seen Gulru like this before. What was going on?

"...I'll be fine," Gulru whispered, so low that Ambra barely heard it. He turned his head to the side in an attempt to hide the tears from his friend. Thankfully, Ambra didn't question it, as she glanced at the door to the infirmary with a frown.

As they waited outside, Gulru glanced up at the sky—he never prayed before, but he did so in his mind. He prayed for Rae to be okay. He prayed for Rae to be alive.

He didn't want to lose him again like last time.

____

One of the healers met with the two outside, breathing a sigh as she wiped off the blood from her hands. Gulru perked up then, his heart racing. Without warning, he began asking without breathing.

"Is Rae okay? Is he still alive?! Please tell me—"

"He'll be fine," the healer answered him in a relieved tone.

Gulru's heart began to slow, as the sweat that was beading down his helm cooled on the metal. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he processed those words. His Rae was still alive. Thank Cosmos.

"He is quite lucky," the healer explained, "if the gash on his chest was deeper, he would be dead on the spot."

Anger began to boil inside Gulru again. Rae was indeed lucky—he shouldn't have made him and Ambra worry about him that much. If only he said something. If only Rae listened…

Ambra met with the two, her eyes red from her crying for a few hours. Wiping away another tear, she asked, "Can we see him?"

"Of course," she said with a nod. "Only one person though. He still needs the rest."

Gulru glanced at Ambra as she did the same. While the two were indeed worried for Rae, they knew that they had to follow the healer's orders.

"You can go ahead, Gulru," Ambra whispered.

"What?" Gulru questioned, "A-are you sure, Ambra? I know you're just as worried over him as I am, but…"

"I can tell you need to talk to him," Ambra pointed out. "I can wait until you're done." She gently pushed him towards the door to the infirmary. "Go ahead. Talk to him."

Gulru merely nodded; while he wished he could ask her how she knew that they needed to talk, he decided not to think about it. Ambra could read people well, and Gulru knew that.

He entered the infirmary, cringing when he spotted his beloved. While his wounds were mostly healed, Rae still looked like he ran into a hurricane and got hurt trying to fight it. Bandages wrapped around his chest, arms, and legs, and Gulru could see red bleeding through them.

His anger grew. But he held back. Rae already went through enough today. This was just a visit.

"...Hello," Gulru greeted hesitantly.

Rae perked up when he heard his beloved's voice, before turning his head. He smiled, but Gulru could see how strained it was due to the pain. "...Hey Gulru."

"What happened out there?" Gulru questioned, unsure if that was the right move.

"Oh, just a bunch of monsters outnumbered me and got me," Rae said with a shrug, as if it was an everyday occurrence. Gulru couldn't help but feel his anger grow. Why was Rae treating this like some everyday thing? "But I beat them! I did good, right?"

"..." Gulru wasn't sure what to say to that. He held his anger back, but every second, it grew to a boiling point. Rae… seeing Rae like this due to his recklessness angered him. Why couldn't he listen to him? Why couldn't he be careful like what Gulru said?

"...Right?" Rae asked, tilting his head when he noticed Gulru's silence. What was wrong?

"...No." Gulru whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Huh?" Rae asked, "What's up, Gully?"

"...No," Gulru growled, tears bubbling in his eye holes as his anger began to spill over. "You didn't do good."

"Wha—" Rae gasped, as if taken aback by Gulru's honesty. "What do you—"

"I asked you to be careful, and you didn't!" Gulru screamed, as the tears fell. "You scared me! You scared Ambra! You scared everyone with your recklessness! Why can't you think for yourself instead of nearly dying?! Don't you realize that you have people like me who worry over you?!"

"Gul—" Rae tried to protest gently, shocked that his beloved was screaming. He never saw Gulru this angry before, and it frightened him.

"Shut up!" Gulru yelled, "Stop with your heroics and be more selfish for once in your life!"

Silence reigned between the two, with Rae's eyes wide in shock and his mouth agape. Gulru froze, realizing what he had done. He didn't mean to scream at Rae; he wanted to let him know that what he was doing scared the Yuke.

"...Gulru," Rae whispered, "I-I didn't—"

Gulru, with tears still falling down his helm, fled the infirmary, slamming the door closed as he left. The last thing Rae heard from Gulru was the Yuke's sobbing.

Rae frowned, tears bubbling in his eyes as well as guilt raised inside him. What had he done? Why did he hurt his beloved? It was all his fault, and now Gulru didn't want anything to do with him now because he was an idiot.

He sniffled, shuffling in his bed as he turned on his side, his back facing the door. He couldn't hold in the sob that crept up in his throat, as he cried himself to sleep.

____

Rae shivered as the night air bit his skin, and he curled up into a ball to get rid of the cold that swept in the room. He sniffled, his eyes red from the tears he had cried hours ago. The guilt was eating him alive—he hurt his Gulru because he didn't listen to him. And now Gulru was nowhere to be found. He wished that he could go and apologize to him, but he knew that he couldn't leave the infirmary until a few days later. His wounds still need healing, and if he moved, he would end up reopening them.

He sighed, realizing that he couldn't sleep like this. Why did the infirmary have such thin blankets? He couldn't sleep like this—

Warmth suddenly hit him as a heavy blanket fell on his body. He blinked, glancing at the blanket that came out of nowhere. He recognized it; it was his blanket from his home. But where—

He slowly turned, and spotted Gulru standing beside his bed. The Yuke's helm was still wet, as if he had cried for hours.

The two stared at each other for a moment, before Gulru finally broke the silence.

"I-I figured you would be cold," Gulru whispered, "so I brought your favorite blanket."

"Gulru…" Rae trailed off, the shock not wearing off. Gulru came back? But why? Rae was a selfish idiot.

"I-I'm sorry for waking you," Gulru stuttered, backing away, "I-I'll let you sleep. Goodnight, Rae—"

"Wait."

Gulru froze in his tracks, glancing down at Rae. Rae turned on his side, careful not to jostle his wounds.

"...I'm sorry." Rae whispered. "You were right that I was selfish. I grew up wanting to be a hero, and instead, I hurt you and everyone around me because of my recklessness." He sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. "I'll stop from now on. I'm sorry for scaring you and everyone else like that."

"N-no," Gulru began, shaking his head. "P-please don't give up your heroics. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Gulru…?" Rae questioned. Why was he sorry? He didn't do anything wrong—he had every right to call Rae out.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you, and… I'm sorry for not speaking up," Gulru continued. "If I had said something, you wouldn't have gotten hurt this bad. I was so worried that if I said something, you would be upset. But I ended up hurting you, instead. I-I love you, Rae, and I hate to see you hurt, emotionally and physically." He sniffled, unable to look at Rae in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, love," Rae reassured. "Even if you had said something, I wouldn't have listened. I'm at fault here for scaring you like that. It wasn't fair to you or to everyone around me. So… I'll stop."

"It isn't fair to give up on something you love, either," Gulru pointed out. "Just… please be more careful? For my sake? I could even come with you to help you. I'm more than happy to protect you like how you protected me."

Rae smiled slightly, nodding. "Of course. I'm sorry, Gulru. For this and for everything else."

"I'm sorry too, Rae."

Gulru approached, and Rae sat up carefully. With one wing, Gulru held his beloved close, as Rae held him back with one arm. Feeling the warmth from the Clavat made Gulru's guilt fade away. Everything was okay. Rae was okay.

"I love you, Gully." Rae whispered.

"I love you too, Rae." Gulru whispered back.

Gulru visited Rae in the infirmary until he was healed enough to do what he loved; being a hero. This time, Gulru was with him, making sure that Rae wouldn't get hurt on his watch. The two grew closer since then, with a few people calling them the "dynamic duo" due to their fighting prowess together.

[is-this-plural]

99% that im not plural, but this specific thing i do could be interlretetd as it haha

-roughly 7 years ago

-draw three silly little characters, one of which is a way 2 draw myself in severe distress

-draw/write one to be a caring, motherly, gentle and patient lady (lets call her F)

-re-purpose "me in distress" as the embodiment of unhealthy habits, a voice that tells you to act out of desperation, hopelessness, etc (S)

-assign last character as Me, my (then) current self who is weak and stressed and heavily influenced by S. (B)

-write little comics where B is venting, and depending on my mental state, either S tells me bad things or F tries to calm me down and guide me. still dont know how to be gentle to myself.

-the years pass, still using this coping method, altough unregularly.

-i get better through therapy, meds & overall better surroundings

-i feel bad one day and decide to roleplay with F.

-through me vocally using her character, she tells me how lovely i am, how happy she is to know me, and that shes proud of my progess

-i am not even entirely steering her words at some point, she wont stop saying nice things (felt good tho!)

-i take vocal control back, thank her and tell her im happy i made her all those years ago

i am a singlet but am microdosing alters ????

its fr strange how its Very Much coping roleplay, yet looks and kinda felt like F was kinda not 100% me.

im pretty sure thered be more confusion, amnesia, "voices" and such if i was a system... right? (looks at systems whose host didnt find out for decades)

rating: you're an interesting critter. look up median system right now.

[diavolosnumberone]

hello >:)

may you bring some headcanons or ideas about Shinji?

nosy anon -

Hello, yes!! Gladly!! I don't really have many, but sure thing. :3 I'll keep them general lol

Content warning for brief mention of self harm, depression and starvation. Nothing strong nor graphic, per se, but still.

Also I'm taking into account the timeline MP100 is ocurring in, which is to say 2012-13, so this aren't exactly 'modern-day au' type of head canons :PP.

PRE/DURING BIG CLEANUP.

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-> Despite it being said he has no talents whatsoever, do remember he has entered multiple competitions for different things (None of which he has won but that is not the point), meaning he'd have to have at least a bit of skill in such things. He's far from useless or stupid, but his parents are much too used to Takuya, who was canonically a prodigy. lol

- Further on that topic, I think out of the things he's competed for, I think he'd be best at writing and playing the violin. Clearly not the best, but a good amount skill is there nonetheless. I'd like to think writing is another way he uses to cope (Albeit one that resulted to be ineffective in the long run, seen as he still ended up having an emotional breakdown).

-> This one is heavily implied in the source material if you're familiar with it, but he struggled quite badly with depression; as seen by the lack of motivation in cleaning his room and how said space was practically ripped from any type of decor of his liking. Notice how he has nothing but a desk filled with books? There was also a ripped poster in his room! You could understans that as how the feeling of dread and sadness takes away the motivation and desire, the interest in things and leaves you feeling vulnerable and miserable (to say the least). His disheveled appearance is also key to that, the dark circles underneath his eyes and the eyebags, along with how messy -and greasy, clearly- his hair was. Also the probably horrid sleep schedule.

- Him actually showering during that period of time is something I doubt because, again, lack of motivation and interest in self-care; but even if he did, he absolutely smelled bad. After all, he did sleep in quite literally a pile of trash bags. Strong odors might stick to a person if they stay in that spot long enough, actually. (I'm also pretty sure he's canonically unattractive lmfao)

- He probably also skipped meals for that very same reason earlier mentioned, and simply stayed locked in his room instead. At a certain point, he also fell into a much unhealthier habit for coping than writing had been, which could be either dissociation or cutting himself.

-> I believe he's bisexual/biromantic (Insert the 'Damn son, nobody want you fr' image lol), claims he's got no time nor interest in relationships, though craves someone who shows genuine, healthy affection and love for him– Despite him being a somewhat emotionally unavailable person.

- Would probably balance between being very romantic one moment and in the other isolating himself and acting aloof. Emotional responsability is not his thing, and might accidentally end up hurting his partner. In other words, he's in a bad space and dating him is not a good idea; even if it wasn't for the lack of emotional responsability, he's also a busy boy, and his family most likely wouldn't accept him being in a relationship, as that'd distract him. (Or do date him, and try to support him through his struggles.)

-> He's clearly not a bad kid, and was actually pretty decent at being council president, it's only his familial situation that made him break and act rashly in distress and a need for approval, a need for feeling important. Had he not been a good enough president to begin with, I highly doubt they would've re-elected him.

- Not quite popular in salt middle, people don't really know him outside of leading the student council body.

-> Sometimes whilst studying at home, he can't help but think about how things would be if maybe his family was more understanding, or supportive. Often, he feels unloved by them (After all, they do indeed look down on him).

- He hates thinking about that, it causes a feeling of impotence and helplesness. At certain points can't help but hate his family for the neglect of his emotional wellbeing, yet can't help but still love them in the end— Might be because of feeling obligated to doing so.

-> He's got favourite flowers, which would be carnations, dahlias, lilies and roses.

- He used to have a cracked vase of iris flowers he took care of, though they all wilted away. Irises are flowers that represent hope and faith.

-> As silly as it sounds, I pinpoint him as a Weezer (the band) fan... I can't help but picture him with a tee of weezer's blue album. Lol

- Deepening on the topic of clothing, despite having more than enough money to dress nicely, he can't care that much about it and often just throws on whatever he has at hand.

-> Definitely huge on praise and attention. Despite trying to look confident on the outside and coming off as arrogant, it definitely shows that he's at least a bit flustered. It makes him feel fuzzy inside.

-> Physically, I tend to picture him with messier and slightly longer hair, droppy-ish eyes and a single mole on the left cheekbone. Also slightly a haircut that differs ever so slightly from the anime and manga (See below)

-> Whenever he has the chance, he hangs out with Hikaru, wether it'd be to study or simply talk, who's pretty much his closest friend and one of the few aware of his home life. Which is to say, not often. Because he doesn't really get the permission to go out that much.

-> He's got a pretty low idea of self-esteem and self-image, can't help but feel like he's worth nothing, at constantly being compared to his older sibling and not being able to meet the expectations his family had set up for him.

(Post big cleanup + timeless ideas after the cut!)

POST BIG CLEANUP.

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-> His brother helped him clean up the total mess on his room, which was a tardy process due to all of the stuff littered around. Newly put posters and the order in his room actually does somewhat give a feeling of tranquility.

-> With his family supporting him instead of constantly pressuring him into doing academically better, he does actually manage to raise his grades (That aside, I do believe his parents are still very exigent of him. He did state Takuya supported him from then on, but said nothing of his parents).

-> With a bit more of time and motivation in his hands now, he gets another small flower pot with irises, to put on the side of his desk. They don't wilt this time.

-> Betters his sleep schedule, at least a bit. He still struggles somewhat with scheduling when to do what, when he's at home.

-> Aside from bettering his grades, he also pursues writing and playing the violin a bit more. Also gets into poetry.

-> With his struggles mostly solved and having had worked on himself, he does become emotionally responsible. It's shown he regrets his wrongdoings and actually wants to better himself as a whole.

-> Does manage to get permission from his parents to go out more often now, partially due to Takuya helping, and partially because he raised his grades. Meaning, he hangs out with his friends more often– Namely Hikaru and Ritsu, the latter being one whom he had grown somewhat closer to.

-> Still doesn't know how to dress well, but at the very least actually makes an effort to look neat now. Also, he no longer smells bad.

- Actually a decent boyfriend if given the chance. He's a sweet boy.

-> Although still affected by praise, is somewhat more composed in response to it now, as his self-worth and self-esteem are no longer as low as they were before. Then again, they still aren't very high— Though at least they're no longer pinned to the floor.

GENERAL IDEAS/HEADCANONS,

NO TIME SET.

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-> Does not know how to ride a bike for his life.

-> Despite being somewhat skinny and slim, he's fairly strong. For an average fifteen year old boy, that is— He's still not very strong.

-> Very good at speaking in public, doesn't really stammer; also surprisingly cunning and charismatic whenever he needs to be. A good leader needs charisma to actually stay in place, after all.

-> Had he ever gotten a crush, he'd be absolutely whipped, no matter how hard he tries to deny it. All the previously mentioned courage vanishes and is instead replaced by a fake sense of confidence that is completely see-through, due to just how easily his cheeks flush and how shaky his voice gets. He'd probably try and impress the person in every way he might be able to, and then fail miserably most of the times.

- Depending on the person, the somewhat pathetic way in which he behaves would be the reason to getting rejected— Or, in the other hand, a reason to getting his feelings reciprocated.

-> Likes horror games. Like maybe Ao Oni or stuff.

-> Used to be very scared of the dark when he was a child, but grew used to it as he got older, and it now brings him an odd, somewhat sad sense of comfort.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

-> I am against the AUs that give him powers, as the lack of them is the key component of getting him to grow as a person, what got him to change. While he did not have psychic powers, he did have an amount of authority -a type of power-, which gave him the confidence and motivation of being bad to others and using them to cope. That's why it's important for him to not have any habilities. They had beat him up OUTSIDE of Salt Middle, where he had no authority whatsoever and was just another boy more— That sensation of helplesness and despair, that power and popularity were indeed not everything, is what got him to change. He knew it'd just happen over and over.

- In the end, reflecting in the solitude about what he has done was what got him out of it. It happened because he was helpless, and it wouldn't have had gone that way in the case of him having psychic powers. Shinji is, in my opinion, a character that it's great never awakened any habilities.

That's all 4 now!!!! I really love Shinji so I think abt him a lot... Do send more asks or even drawing requests if you wanna, I don't mind at all!

[bug-decal-kissing]

Hey friends!

Alone Inside by ackletze was updated today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Roommates"

You can read it here:

I AM SCARED I AM SCARED I AM SCARED. MY BOYS. MY POOR BOYS. THE ANGST IS DEFINITELY THERE. PRISMO I AM SO SORRY SCARAB I AM SO SORRY. THEY NEED THERAPY. THE ARGUMENT HURT OW OW OW/pos. This was such a good chapter, everything felt so real and now I am very scared as to what is going to happen next vbhnjmkl please let the comfort of hurt/comfort come soon/hj

And They Were Roomates by Finn565 was updated today, with 2/2 Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Fluff and Angst, Scarab has self esteem issues, They wont leave my head I can not stop thinking about them, Fluff, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Prismo is actually the best for real, Developing Relationship, Scarab is manic at one point, Touch-Starvedthey both are, Kissing, Wonder what kissing a wall is like fr"

You can read it here:

Prismo you simp/j. I love Scarab using it to tease him, like yes king you are attractive now weaponize it <3. And then they start talking about Jake and that always makes me go🥹 oh my poor boys my poor, poor boys. Scarab is finally being nice for once in his lonely life/j. He can't comprehend that Prismo just wants to be nice to him my poor stupid boy/lh.

Day Jobs and Daydreams by RainSparks29 was updated today, with 5/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Slow Burn, Exes, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, except the office is not present much, it exists in spirit, Narcolepsy, prismo has narcolepsy, Scarab's POV, I like these guys, Hurt/Comfort, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Grief/Mourning, implied prisjake, No beta we die like Jake"

You can read it here:

I was HYPED for this one, I love this work so much, it's just written so well !!! I feel bad for Cosmic now that he has to sit between these two doing whatever the heck they're doing/j. And now Scarab knows that Prismo is at least a little attracted to him, and he has to be normal about that; I could never. I love the way everyone is written in this work, the characters just work so well !

Golden Eyes by Kurei16 was updated today, with 3/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and Graphic Depictions Of Violence, with the additional tags "Alternate Universe - Pirate, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, no proofread, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Panic Attacks"

You can read it here:

MY BOOOOOOOOY NOT MY BOOOOOOOOY-- PRISMO YOU PIRATE B IT C H/hj. I'm so excited about this fic, I love the pirate AU, even if it makes me want to be violent against my favourite pink sticker man/pos. Scarab is going to need some therapy after this; too bad it's too early for therapists/j. I am HYPED to see nightmo soon too !! I don't know if he'll be worse than Prismo, but the bar is set pretty high right now/lh.

A new work, Like Looking In A Mirror, by phoenixash234flames, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of General Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Multiverse, Sort Of, part of wedding wishes but also not really, AU-ception?"

You can read it here:

I love this series so much, they get to be SOFT and MARRIED <3. I'm glad Orbo is at least a little bit nice, letting them go to Fionnaworld. Also, very in-character of Prismo having no actual plan when they got there. Empty-headed king/j. I always like it when they get to see Fionna and Cake again, it's funny when they realise what's going on between Scarab and Prismo fvgbh They are so silly and it's so nice :].

Seraphyllic-⭑-Prohibited Wish by DrakianDH was updated today, with 4/15 Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and Graphic Depictions Of Violence along with Major Character Death and the additional tags "scarab the god auditor - Freeform, prismo the wishmaster - Freeform, Priscrab, ProhibitedWish, Scrabby, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we get turned to legos like the lich, Adventure & Romance, Story within a Story, Eventual Happy Ending, Maybe - Freeform, Author Is Sleep Deprived, The Author Regrets Nothing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, You gotta work for the comfort, begining poem important, each chapter a word, prepare"

You can read it here:

Cosmic Owl once more has to sit and watch these two do whatever the heck they're doing/pos. Scarab may be acting like a little baby who wants to sit in his room and brood for the rest of eternity, but at least Prismo is being nice about it wbhdencrf They finally get a chance to be soft and it's so good :,]. I'm now extra scared about the upcoming chapters/lh.

Silly Bug by TJade was updated today, with 2/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Genderbending, Domestic Fluff, Teasing, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Suggestive Themes, Awkwardness"

You can read it here:

More of the girls YES PLEASE !!! And we get a little bit of Fionna time too :] ! It's so funny that she sees Carrie and is immediately like 'oh glob not SCARAB,' at least Carrie is nice to her <3. Cake has no filter but that's okay because she's a little kitty. I love seeing them interact with Fionna, she is reeling dcvfgbhj

That Won't Fly With The Boss by just_a_somebody has been updated today, with 5/? Chapters released! It has a rating of Teen And Up Audiences and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Prismo x scarab, ProhibitedWish, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Headcanon, might've given him trauma, please just hear me out - Freeform, what if scarab had wings like scarab beetles are supposed to?, key word had, it makes sense with canon(to me at least), My first fic, Be nice to me, Post-Canon, and they were ROOMMATES, this can probably be considered as scarab having ptsd, PTSD, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Developing Relationship"

You can read it here:

HYPED for this work too !! Poor Prismo has to deal with Scarab's little guys form, he's lucky they're so cute/j. I love the way Prismo treats them and just how he treats Scarab in general, king is trying his best <3. They get to be soft and it's GOOD !! More people need to write about Scarab's little guy form(/nf), the possibilities of him getting up to no good are endless.

NSFW works are below the cut :].

A new work, got you in my mind, by rizzy_luke, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Masturbation, prismo is whipped, i blacked out and end up with this, ig theres some plot elements here??, theyre texting now"

You can read it here:

Prismo is so down bad it isn't even funny anymore/j. I love the soft office AU, and getting a work from Prismo's PoV is always a treat :]. The ending made me cackle; Scarab you have no idea what you are doing to him <3/lh.

A new work, Touch, by kiripiry, was published today, with 1/1 Chapters released! It has a rating of Explicit and No Archive Warnings Apply, with the additional tags "Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Anal Sex, Biting, First Time, Blow Jobs, Touch-Starved, Prismo wants to touch things, and scarab is helping him, confession kinda?? cause they are idiots, written from a shutdown nest, My First Fanfic, very self indulgent"

You can read it here:

These GOOBS are so GOOBERLY !!/pos. I love how they get to be intimate without having actual sex at the beginning. They are relishing in their human bodies and it is so nice :]. Absolutely smitten for each other too. I love it <3

[hinamie]

Hina how do you prevent burnout in general? Do you do anything specific or do you just chill for a while?

If i knew the answer to /preventing/ burnout i would be unstoppable fgsjfgfhj but unfortunately it is simply part of the creative Cycle ,, when it happens it happens all I can do is make the most of the time in between :'> i wouldn't necessarily call it Preventative but personally when im on a creative high I'm lucky in that it becomes its own positive feedback loop of Make something->satisfaction+validation-> make something else so for better or worse i farm that loop until i collapse

the flip side to that is that when burnout Does strike i have been known to completely ghost social media and rot in my own head when it gets really bad ,,. working theory as to Why is likely because I haven't found a way 2 cope with seeing people continue to create content for the things I like when I myself am stuck in a rut (unhealthy mindset !!! i know !!!! i have Problems !!!!!) . its not good and i don't do much else because all my eggs are in one basket i only have 1 hobby :< (i dont count running/exercise/baking which r more Coping mechanisms than hobbies imo)

as fr breaking out of that rut, the only solution ive found so far that works reliably is to just fuckin rip the bandaid off and draw miserable draw frustrated draw hating what u make but just Get It Out just make Something. Anything. u gotta bleed the wound to get the gunk out and then u pick urself up u remember ur hotkeys and u learn how to hold a pencil again :)

also i won't delude myself into thinking this time will be different but I do think that this recent Rush has taught me a lot about how to streamline my process and be Ok with posting pieces that old me wld have thought r not "clean" or "finished" enough to share so maaaybe that'll help my burnouts be less debilitating ??? i fear the crash but time will tell !! for now im chillin

[kurjakani]

Gyu is so annoying (affectionate) he says he likes pitiful and ugly things and then immediately goes on about how no one in the whole wide world has it harder than him

Gatekeeper supreme

Fr tho jokes aside its So Interesting 2 me i think theres a couple reasons why he does that why he shames himself so much

Its an unhealthy coping mechanism: if he makes fun of himself first it wont hurt as much when others do it, if he makes fun of himself first maybe people won't bother to do it, if he makes fun of himself hes RIGHT about himself, his feelings about his personhood are right, and people like 2 feel right.

Its a rebellion to take pride in his "negative traits" (his appearence isnt one fr, just his personality, but he sees them both as such), it's a fight, this i feel could take a healthier form but he's still clearly jealous of others so i dont think he truly deeply takes pride and JOY in how he is

ITS STRAIGHT UP. a way for him to excuse/allow himself to do awful things. "im an awful person so what do you expect?" kinda thing. allowance to give into his worst impulses and tendencies, which he would need to hold back or find an another way to excuse if he didnt just decide that. Since hes an awful person, hes SUPPOSED 2 do awful things.

Sorry u just sent me a message roasting him a little but im also rotating him on a spit in my mind and i cant get enough AUGH hes soooo on my mind

[hsv2poslife]

So. A lot has happened

I'm feeling better about my hsv status. A friend of mine told me they had it, I felt less alone. I realized I had been dealing with life in unhealthy ways, and getting lost in the sad goop of all of this plus the pandemic plus just life has led me to seek mental health help. Next bit is kind of heavy so

I'm only sharing this bc I've been coping in destructive ways, and I want other people to learn from my mistakes.

TW alcohol tw dr*gs

Yeah so I went in for a mental health eval and they said I was one point short of being involuntarily admitted due to my alcohol abuse. This was like Thursday (2 days ago) so I'm a little shaken definitely. I have a history of depression and substance abuse, but I never disclosed how much I was using when I would go to see professionals because I didn't want help. I kind of don't want help now, but I know I need it. I actually contracted herpes BECAUSE I was sleeping with people for drugs, lol. Nothing hard, it was just weed before it was legal in my state, but I didnt want to get cut off, so I let them hit unprotected all the time and now here we are. I'm lucky it didn't get worse. I can't even tell you how many times I was offered c*ke and had the courage to say no to these guys. Legalization of MJ saved my life, fr.

Sooo I guess I mostly overcame one battle right as I started a new one. Fingers crossed for me that I can find a form of sobriety that works for me ❤️ Also, I realized that I'm sure I'm a lesbian. Connecting the dots that the guys I slept with were all for dr*gs has really put that into perspective. Yeah.

Good luck to all of us, I guess.

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Let Me Drown (Orville Peck)

Never knew where was home I slept a lifetime alone/Yeah, we had it one time but it's gone now, it's gone/Let me drown/I know with pleasure comes pain/I figured we were the same/But as I get older I get more afraid

"It is the best song for a good cry, when I'm down I listen to this on repeat. It so hard to stop listening to, you don't want any other song you want this again. The emotions are so strong you get swept away in it. I first heard this song on a video edit of Edward Teach (ofmd) after Stede leaves him. When he is turning back to his old ways and rejecting all the good in him that Stede brought out. He is throwing away his own growth and returning to the safety of a hard violent facade. It fits this song so well."

Family Line (Conan Gray)

Scattered 'cross my family line/I'm so good at telling lies/That came from my mother's side/Told a million to survive/Scattered 'cross my family line God, I have my father's eyes/But my sister's when I cry

"Familial trauma go BRRR. Nah cause my family fr be kinda like that and wow that is one way to make me face it and cry instead of my humour coping mechanism among some other unhealthy ones. I also project it onto the blorbos I kin and it makes me cry all over again 🥲 (it's also just a very good song that haunts you)"

[thequeenofsarcaasm]

What do you think are Geto and Gojo’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

I’ll try to make it short. (And probably fail so I apologize in advance)

1-What I adore about Gojo is how terribly human he is despite everything. That might also be his greatest weakness but only because he never truly embraced all that humanity. In a way, he denied himself the chance to be “weak” after Toji almost killed him and it only got worse after Geto (the one person who truly saw him for who he truly was) abandoned him. He “thrived” in individualism but where did that get him? Also, another weakness might be how tightly woven he is with that damn Jujutsu system . He says he wants change (and I wholeheartedly believe him) but he is the embodiment of that very system and its values.

RIP Princess. You shall be missed.

2-Now Geto! My man has many weaknesses. Whew. He lost his goddamn mind to fear and hatred, but despite that he is full of love (in a twisted way). He had that black and white vision of life that transpired in the way he interacted with others and yet he remains in a sort of grey area since he’s so complexe. The immense love he held for his family and friends was only matched by his hatred for regular folks. Remember in JJK0 when he started to tear up during his fight with Panda and Inumaki? 😭 Also, he disliked the idea of having to attack Yuuta, and yet so many other sorcerers (the people he supposedly wanted to protect) had to be sacrificed on that day. A reasonable sacrifice perhaps? Or a desire to sieve the popular further? I want to slap him (affectionate).

That man was the perfect embodiment of “my grandpa was racist as hell but he was kind to me and everyone in our circle so he will be missed.” and it makes him super compelling imo.

I’d also want to add that Geto had a sort of convoluted “selflessness” that wasn’t compatible with his job but remained a big part of his personality post defection. In reality, it was just a coping mechanism mingled with a saviour complexe. He needed an ideology to back his actions and lifestyle (contrary to Haibara or Gojo for ex) . The “protect weak people” bs made the job not only bearable but also ego stroking. Which means that once he stopped feeling good about being a hero FOR the weak (since he deemed them unworthy), he decided to become one for sorcerers and AGAINST the weak. That “us against the world” mentality was born from trauma and fear but also from arrogance and an unhealthy tendency to dichotomise(Gege cooked fr. Call Gordon Ramsey pls). I get it though. After killing the village there was no going back so I probably would’ve convinced myself it was a good idea to keep going until someone killed me or something (a task he “delegated” to his beloved). Had that massacre never happened, I’m convinced someone would have been able to slap some sense into him.

(I wish we knew more about his upbringing tho cause he was a master manipulator and a fucking hypocrite. I want to know where he acquired that skill lol.)

Btw, his greatest strength is that he was hot as f (I’m joking. Or am I?)

Final words on him: Beware of dogmatism y’all. Great men have been lost to it.

3-Now, I love the brat-brat tamer aspect of their duo sooooo much. Gojo was insufferable as a teenager (still is) but Geto was the only person he actually listened to, the person he chose to guide him. It’s funny that in Season 2 EP 1, Geto has to explain to him why Rico wants to spend some time with her friends before the merger but that two episodes later Gojo willfully extended the mission just because she pouted when it was time to go home. He clearly had a good influence on him. Moreover, I love how protective they are of each other. I’m positive Geto wanted to massacre the cult members but turned down Gojo’s suggestion because he knew Gojo would later regret killing them. Now, the thing that really makes my heart throb is how Geto always saw Gojo. While most people see him as a superhuman, a machine even (remember when Nanami said he should take on all the missions), Geto showed a level of care that was so strong that it changed him as a person. I will never not obsess over the glance Gojo threw at him when he asked him if he wasn’t too exhausted to continue the mission. That’s why he never got over that man. I mean, how could he?

It’s not exactly brief but I tried. It definitely could have been worse 😭 I deleted a few paragraphs.

Thank you for giving me the chance to ramble about my beloved wives. It’s a proof of love and I assure you that I love you too.

🫶🏾

[amoeganism]

🍓🌹❗for both and 🥀❤️💔🥩 for mayumi :333

(can u tell i really like mayumi)

MAYUMI MY GIRL!!!!!!! i love her sm she's a horrible person but idc 🔥

info under the cut

🍓 (strawberry) - Does your oc believe in anything? Are they superstitious? Religious? Atheistic? Has anything in their past made them this way?

already answered this one in the previous post!!

🌹 (rose) - What does your oc find attractive in other people? Are these traits found in their friends and/or romantic partners? Are they found in themselves?

mayumi's standards are LOWWW she'll fold for any girl but she doesn't fall in love easily. her kind of pining is staring at a girl from afar and giggling over scenarios at home (she needs to stay mysterious and nonchalant). she skips from crush to crush really fast though, a new one maybe every other week but she's got a thing going on with yuu that's been pretty steady

ryuji is an unapologetic gold digger LMFAO ever since the u20 match he's had his eye on isagi and hits on him every chance he gets (he's atrocious at flirting and isagi thinks ryuji is just fucking with him and it pisses him off). his feelings for isagi started because he saw isagis potential and exponential growth in the sport and from that MONEY!!! FAME!!! if he sees an opportunity to exploit, he'll jump for it cuz he's trying to do anything to get validation and also out of his life

❗️(exclamation point) - What was the scariest moment of your character’s life? Does it still affect them?

for mayumi it's when when her mom got hospitalized after her dad beat her. she was used to her parents always arguing and both of their explosive tempers but that time they got physical. after that she was left kinda jaded and cuz violence was all she knew, she flipped out on her schoolmates and ended up getting expelled her second year.

i'd say the most defining moment of his life is when he got alcohol poisoning and had a nearly fatal overdose of synthetic drugs one night, leaving him in several thousands of yen in debt because of medical bills in a city he doesn't live in. his family is already poor so that was a huge punch in the face about his lifestyle and living situation. also he used diapers until 13 and he lives in constant fear about that secret coming out

MAYUMI ONLY SECTION:

🥀 (wilted flower) - How does your character deal with stressful situations? Is their fear response fight, flight, freeze or fawn?

mayumi has horrendous coping mechanisms and immediately goes for fight. she's on edge like 24/7 and is 5 secs away from jumping everyone #angerissues

❤️ (heart) - Who is the most important person to your character? To what lengths would they go to protect this person?

MAYUU YURI!!!! mayumi honestly only cares about yuu and feels kinda bad because she sees herself as a horrible influence on yuu. she'd do anything for yuu but is also scared that one day she'll blow up on yuu and fuck up their relationship, leaving her alone

💔 (broken heart) - Who has your character hurt most? Physically or emotionally? How did it feel? Do they regret it?

i'm gonna be fr she's probably hurt everyone in her life bc that's all she knows of relationships. she's thought about getting physical but she can't hold her own in a fight like... at all.... so it's mainly emotional abusing others until she got expelled and that's when she was like "huh.... maybe i should .... not 😱 " and got sent to intensive therapy for half a year so yuu is her #1 #icon

🥩 (steak) - Does your oc have any coping mechanisms? Healthy or unhealthy?

her previous coping mechanism was severely bullying everyone in her vicinity but ever since she got out of therapy, she's been trying to manage her temper. she's still on edge 24/7 and a literal bomb so she turned to self harm and punishing herself #ROFL i was gonna include it in my scene!mayumi art but i thought it was too much so i cropped it out 😭

[aemiron-main]

*cocky blog that starts drama in the tag every day with my pressed takes and trying to disprove peoples’ interpretations and unhealthy obsession with it voice so literally just my normal voice* “mike wheeler is gay btw. gay gay homosexual gay.”

fr though like some people (anons) need to go and touch grass you would never last 10 seconds in any form of academic debate or essay. and I’m not even saying that in a “people have to debate me” way I’m saying it in a “I make my own fucking posts it’s not immoral to criticize things esp when ur not forcing people to interact with ur” way. please cope. seethe perhaps. i am going to criticize other ideas as part of my analysis & it’s not immoral to do so. you are not morally superior for taking the centrist route. there is no inherent morality in centrism. so what if people are obsessed with analyzing parts of the show, including mike’s sexuality?

sorry but not all analysis is equally rooted in the text of the show. not all analysis is going to be equally true. I’m wrong sometimes. Other people are wrong sometimes. It happens. Mike Wheeler is gay. It happens.