#cw blindness

[e-m-p-error]

Valentino And His Disabilities

Valentino has never had great eyesight in Hell, but the longer he is dead the more his sight deteriorates. He has perfect vision in the dark and is able to read and do other things, but in any form of light, he is essentially blind. When Vox smiles at him with his big, blue teeth, he also gets what he calls Moon Eyes where he is transfixed and cannot stop staring despite not being able to see.

After the stripping of his left antenna, Valentino's hearing went from being able to hear up to 300hz to only 150hz. He is half-deaf, and though he is still capable of hearing better than any human and most other Sinners, he does not hear as well as he used to. When he watches TV he has it turned up loud, and prefers loud music. He has to really strain to hear whispers if they are not relatively close to him. He does hear a static hum when Vox is around and generating it.

Due to the stripped antenna, his sense of smell and taste were also damaged. He has to get his other good antenna in there if he wants to smell something, and he prefers foods that have a heavier scent so he can taste them properly.

#HEADCANONS ➽➽➽ #And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ) #cw deafness #cw blindness #cw disabilities #cw disability

[lily-janus]

Someone Like You

Hello everyone! This has been a little bit overdue heh but I'm finally ready to start posting for @tsspromptmonth ! The first few chapters are still not the parts I wrote but the wonderful parts @prince-rowan-of-the-forest wrote! So give them credit for those! I'll be posting a chapter every week, if anyone would like me to tag them to get notified feel free to reach out in the asks or dms^^

Chapter one | next

Summary: after you get into an accident that leaves you with chronic pain and partial blindness and causes you to get bullied and laughed at at school and the only friend you ever had ditches you for the pupolar friend group, you kinda don't really feel like connecting with anyone anymore... even if you do have a crush on them. So, of course, now you're forced to work with them on a project for English class... what could possibly go wrong?

Pairings: pre romantic Roceit, platonic LAMP

Warnings: bullying, public humiliation, unsympathetic Janus (kinda? He's being mean a lot but it's kinda understandable), misunderstandings, self degrading thoughts, chronic pain, partial blindness, trying to hide your disability, lying, low self esteem, unrequired love(for now), swearing. I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Word count: 2,898

Growing up, Janus had always been different. He liked to hide in the shadows, he lied far more often than was necessary, to the point where the people who knew him knew to take most things he said to mean the opposite, when he wasn’t lying he was either too shy to speak or rude to anyone who bothered trying.

And of course, there was a massive scar across half of his face. Yeah, that was a pretty big one. He’d gotten it during the car accident that killed his mother when he was very young, since then he’d been blind in one eye and had bad vision in the other, his habit of lying had gotten even worse and he often felt terrible pains in his left limbs which the doctor had said may be chronic and probably wouldn’t go away any time soon and no matter how many physio sessions he attended or meds he took the pains never really seemed to leave him alone.

Whenever he went outside people always seemed to stare, odd looks seemed to follow him wherever he went, sympathy was the best he could hope for, pity was the most common, disgust he’d come to expect, hatred towards him just for existing was something he’d gotten used to over the years.

Now, ten years since the accident, he’d gotten used to everything that came from being different. The stares in the school hallways when he used his cane, the angry looks when he bumped into someone on the street, not realising that they were as close as they were, usually when they were on his blind side.

He got angry look after angry look from his teachers when he lied time and time again. The exasperated look his therapist always gave him when he’d come back every week only to report little progress as always.

Unfortunately, now that he was older, a junior in highschool, he was starting to realise there were a few more issues than just the looks and the lies. At the age of seventeen Janus started to notice things. He noticed the two seniors walking arm in arm down the hall. He accidentally walked in on two of his classmates doing the devil’s tango in the bathroom more than once (which had immediately made it onto his short list of reasons he wished he was fully blind, possibly deaf too). He noticed his classmates passing notes in the seats in front of him, the notes adorned with little hearts or smiley faces which made the receiver blush and turn away with a silent giggle.

The romance was everywhere now when it hadn’t been so prominent before, and like a lot of other kids his age, Janus was starting to want it too. The issue he faced was… well who would ever love him?

Of course it was easy to notice the beautiful girls and even more beautiful boys getting together, it was in plain sight, like everyone had suddenly decided to pair off. But he also noticed the kids who didn’t meet society's strict (and stupid, in Janus’ humble opinion) standards for beauty. The girl with acne, the boy who was slightly overweight, the trans girl in his class who hadn’t been able to transition quite yet, the girl who liked to have her hair short and clothes baggy just because. None of those people had been able to pair off, whether they wanted to or not, they sat alone at lunch and in class, they didn’t get invited to parties or get partners for dances.

Janus noticed all this because he was one of those people too. The popular kids would fling insults and slurs at him like he was a witch in a medieval stoning, they would point at him discreetly in the halls and laugh. They'd throw paper balls at the back of his head in class. He'd even been pummelled by a basketball once because kids really didn't know when to stop. He’d had his lunch smacked from his hands, he’d been shoved and pushed and kicked while he was down. Janus knew what it was like, and he knew his crowd.

Unfortunately, that didn’t mean his heart would obey him and stick to that crowd.

Because Janus found his eye wandering in class, he couldn’t help the way he was drawn in, like iron to a magnet, and he hated it. He despised the feeling so deeply, because it made him want. It made him want for something he was sure he could never hope to have.

Roman was somehow both a prep and a jock, a theatre kid who always seemed to be the centre of attention in whatever situation he found himself in. Roman was the prime example of the people who bullied him. If someone asked Janus to point out the kind of person who made fun of him in the corridors, he’d tell them ‘people like Roman’ because there he was, strutting down the middle of the corridor with his friends, wearing his custom varsity jacket (with a golden crown and his last name- Prince- printed on the back in gold). They would walk past and people would get out of the way, they would walk into a class and everyone would stare, but never in the same way they stared at him.

Roman might be the prime example of one of his bullies, but funnily enough Roman himself had never done anything to him. At least not in person. Janus had no way of knowing what was said behind his back (a lot was said behind his back) but he did know that Roman had never been the one to throw the basketball, Roman had never shoved him out of the way, he’d never tripped him or smacked his lunch to the floor. In fact, Roman had never interacted with him at all.

And yet for some reason, Janus’ heart longed for him, that glittery eyeshadow, those bright green eyes, his brown hair that seemed to shine red and gold in the light. But despite his own wants he knew it wouldn't happen, he wouldn't even attempt to lie to himself, there was no hope for him.

If anyone asked, which they never did, Janus would say he despised the other boy. Hated the way he leant back on his chair during English class without a care in the world. He would say he hated the way he could hear Roman's melodic laugh over the cacophony of the cafeteria. The way his eye was always drawn to the guy when he acted so perfectly in their drama class. Hated the way Roman’s hair shone shades of rust and gold and brown in the sun, hated the way his green eyes reminded him of a forest in the summer, hated the way he was able to speak loud and free like he’d never experienced a problem in his life.

Roman was so far out of his league they weren't even playing the same sport- or- whatever the hell that idiom was supposed to mean. Not only that but Roman was already taken, by the stupid emo kid who used to be his best friend, in fact.

Used to be his best friend, that is, until Virgil ditched him the moment he got a chance to be part of the cooler group. The moment he realised that Patton didn't mind his dark makeup and Roman found his dark mysterious aesthetic interesting he’d been gone. He had lost his best friend to the popular kids four years ago, it was only last year when the rumours that Roman and Virgil had started dating began to spread and it made Janus' chest ache with jealousy.

But Janus got on with things despite that. He tried not to glance at Virgil when he passed him in the halls, he tried not to stare at Roman during class and when he sat alone at lunch. He tried to keep himself as mysterious and elusive as he could- he didn't talk to anyone if he could help it and when he had to he spoke in backwards riddles and lies, safe to say no-one wanted to be paired with him for group projects.

And then came one horrible day. It had already been an awful day for him already. His scars were acting up, feeling like they were pulled tight and they itched- they itched so badly despite the lotions and oils he had to put on them every morning. On top of that he'd forgotten both his hat and his glasses when he'd ran out of the house late and he'd been tripped in the corridor twice, it was only his second lesson of the day.

Janus wanted nothing more than to sink through the floor as their teacher went on and on about something or another that he'd catch up on later because he could never focus when he was around other people even when he could actually see what was on the screen. That was until he heard those dreaded words.

"You'll be doing this homework project in pairs!" Their teacher announced and Janus could practically feel the eyes land on him before people glanced away to look at their friends, wondering who would be unlucky enough to end up with him this time.

"Can we choose our own partner?" A girl asked, her voice quiet and tentative as if she didn't want to give the teacher the idea she was hoping the answer would be yes.

The class held their breaths in wait for the answer. The teacher's simple yes or no answer would determine what happened next. If she said yes it would be a chaotic scramble to pair up, a race not to be the last person left without a partner. Because of course the last person to find a partner would end up with Janus.

"No," She said, and now all the class could do was hope, "I’ve bade a list of your partner assignments, please find your name on here and move to sit next to your partner,"

Janus just stayed where he was. He couldn't see the list without his glasses anyway and whoever was his partner would come and sit next to him eventually, probably after asking the teacher if they could switch. Meanwhile Janus looked down at the sheets in front of him, trying to work out though blurry vision and painful scars what the hell they had been learning about.

"Hey," Someone said, sitting down next to him, "You're Janus, right? I'm your partner,"

Janus just hummed, he didn't bother to look up, if he waited long enough maybe his partner would just give up and decide to get on with it by themself.

"Um- I don't think we've ever talked before, but I'm Roman, Prince," He said, Janus' head snapped up and he blinked rapidly, hoping his eyes would actually give him a clearer picture for omce. It really was Roman, honestly fuck him. The universe really seemed to hate him today, "Nice to meet you?"

"Oh won't this be fun," Janus said quietly, he didn't have the energy to muster his usual snippy tone, push him away, his brain said, there's no point in even trying, "Stuck with the class pretty-boy,"

"You will have a month to complete the project," The teacher announced, interrupting whatever taunt or jab Roman probably had prepared for him, a month, seriously? "And I expect you to work with your partner outside of class for this project, I will not be giving you time during classes after today to work on this,"

"Fantastic," Janus said, completely deadpan, he could already hear whispers from other pairs, people pitying Roman for getting stuck with him, but Roman didn't seem to notice in the slightest, he simply placed a notebook on the table and grabbed a pen- a sparkly red glitter gel pen with a plume of tinsel coming from the top- before turning to him again.

"So… any ideas of what we could do?" Roman asked, looking at him with a smile, it was sweet of him to try, Janus thought. He'd give up eventually, just like anyone else.

"I totally know exactly what we're supposed to be doing right now," Janus answered, hand subconsciously going to scratch at the spot by his ear where scar tissue met skin. He grimaced when a nail caught on the rough skin, causing a sharp yanking pain and suddenly he was once again reminded of why he wasn't supposed to scratch the scars. He picked up a pen and began to twirl it instead.

"We're making a project in the format of our choice based around Macbeth," Roman explained with a little bit of a laugh in his voice, Janus sighed, it sounded like a lot of work- and it meant that Janus would actually have to read the Shakespeare play, damn, "So… any ideas of what we could do? It doesn't seem very limited, as long as it's based on the play, so…"

"Nope, no ideas at all," Janus said, flicking his pen effortlessly over his fingers now. He did have an idea or two, but he really didn't feel like sharing, just thinking about Roman made him want to shrivel up and die, let alone being open towards the guy.

"Oh- well that's ok," Roman said with a smile that Janus was certain was forced, even though he couldn’t see, any smile directed at him was usually forced, "Hey- um- here, I'll give you my phone number so we can work out a time to work on this ok?"

"Right," Janus said, taking the paper Roman offered him a moment later. He only fumbled a little bit.

"So I thought it would be fun to do something creative! Like.. we could rewrite the script but modernised! Or- hm- what if we filmed it like a movie?"

"We have a month to do this and you expect us, two highschoolers with zero experience, one of whom can barely move at the best of times, to be able to make a whole movie?" Janus asked, staring at Roman in genuine shock. He shrugged.

"I don't see why not!" He huffed, and, ok, so this guy was delusional, Janus could… probably work with that? "Unless you don't like the idea of course, I believe we could do it,"

"Alright sure, say I was ok with this completely rational idea, where the hell would we film it? On what equipment?" Janus said, glaring at him.

"Well…" Roman said, thinking, "Me and you would obviously act- and don't say you can't act because I've seen you in drama, you do well when you're not paired with someone who's an asshole,"

Janus just stared at him, Roman actually knew he existed? Let alone remember him?

"I could find somewhere for us to film, we just need some kind of castle-ish place… maybe we could use a church? And as for filming… I think my dad might have a tripod? We can just use one of our phones or something…"

"I can't believe I'm actually agreeing to this," Janus sighed, "Can't we just make a stupid PowerPoint slide like normal people,"

"We could," Roman said, before smiling, "But that would be dreadfully boring, wouldn't it?"

Janus just hummed and tried to hide a smile. He looked at his notebook, going to begin writing down plans for their project before realising that oh yeah, his vision was still too blurry to see anything in enough detail to write legibly. He sighed and looked back over at Roman, who was still watching him.

"Is everything alright?" Roman asked, he must've noticed Janus pause.

"I'm fine," Janus said, on instinct at this point, closing his book, "We should plan in your notebook,"

"Oh, ok!" Roman said, shrugging as he turned to a new page in his notebook, flicking the lid off of his gel pen and writing, in big enough letters to make out "Macbeth The Movie" in swirling fancy cursive the middle of the page and underlining it. Underneath he wrote some more things, but Janus couldn't make them out.

"You do realise this play is five acts long, don't you?" Janus asked as Roman scribbled down some more stuff on the next page, before looking up.

"Yeah? So?" Roman asked.

"It has over two hours of runtime," Janus said slowly, hoping to guide Roman into realising what an immense and stupid project this would be.

"And?"

"Hollywood films of the same length can take years to film," Janus reasoned, talking slowly.

"We can do this, Janus!" Roman said firmly, determination in his voice, "No need to be so gloomy! We're not Hollywood, we don't need fancy costumes or scriptwriting or anything! It won't take as long as that!"

"Your endless optimism already astounds me…." Janus muttered, beginning to pack away his things. “I suppose we can try, at least.”

"Just text me," Roman said with a smile that, for some reason, seemed genuine, "We can meet up later to plan this out properly,"

Janus just nodded as the bell rang before standing up and heading for the door, silently praying that he wouldn't be tripped again, not here, not in front of his stupid stupid crush who for some reason was actually being nice to him

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #tsspromptmonth #wip exchange #ts janus #ts roman #pre romantic roceit #platonic lamp #highschool au #Someone Like You #ts virgil #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #written by prince-rowan-of-the-forest #cw chronic pain #cw blindness #tw swearing #tw low self esteem #tw self loathing #tw bullying #cw scars #tw unrequired love #cw kissing mention

[the-spider-in-your-livingroom]

"WHY ARE YOU [crying your eyes out!]?...

How am I [back in business]? How am I... still. here...?"

Comic-esq of some *gasp* AU LORE!!11!! WOAH!! When the blue addison came to check up on Spamton in the Butler AU, instead of disappearing, he was found after having been "dealt with" by Mike. He's in rough condition and barely hanging on by a thread, but he's still there. They never were able to find and replace his eyes though... Anyway, hope you guys like it! Kinda proud of this! >:D

#my art i guess #spamton #spamton g spamton #swatch #deltarune #deltarune au #deltarune alternate universe #alternate universe #au #butler au #addisons #blue addison #Not related but I like the Addisons and Spam are siblings HC :] #blindness #cw blindness

[defiedfate]

For the Mercy arc (@singthesongsofsin): Adelard was as close to an institution as most people could think of in Hell, and in Pride, most certainly. His manor on the outer edges of Pentagram City had been home to travellers and wayward souls across centuries, collecting tomes in the library and plants in the garden all the while.

It's why he isn't all that surprised when he-- well, the intern Vox assigned decades ago to digitize the archives, and had become an invaluable asset-- says that the orderlies at St. An's had a patient for him. Usually the hospital called him when they had patients that needed more observation and help than direct medical care as they had at the start.

What does come as a shock is that is is Prince Stolas who is wheeled to his door. "Well then, your highness, you've gotten into quite some trouble, it seems. Come in, come in, I'll get you some tea while I prepare a room."

They couldn't restore his eyesight. The angelic weapons had done their damage thoroughly. Severed all connection between his eyes and any healing ability his body could have offered up. And after several weeks within the confines of a vacant hospital room, he had been transferred out. To something of a halfway house.

It didn't assuage his desire to go home, but perhaps for the better. He didn't need to be wandering around empty hallways and bumbling into what little staff he had on retainer. Octavia would be with her mother for some time. She didn't need to see him like this-- He didn't want her to.

He didn't want to "see" anyone.

And, so, he was wheeled into the front hall of a smaller estate instead. An OLDER estate. And though the sinner Adelard was not entirely unknown to him, he couldn't claim that he had ever been to his neck of the woods before-- had never needed to RELY on him before.

"I'd rather forgo the tea, if you don't mind." Stolas sighed somewhat dismally in reply.

#singthesongsofsin #encounters ;; stolas #arc ;; mercy #cw injury #cw blindness

[perelka-l]

Ensuring all is fine, all is well. Just a regular checkup.

(Doctor!Danzo and blind!Shisui for great justice uwu)

#shimura danzo #uchiha shisui #danshisu #danzo shimura #shisui uchiha #cw needles #cw blindness #ye shisui is blind and yes danzo is evil evil uwu #i cant draw backs pls forgive me #idk scars are bc i wanted to give danzo something on arm but not remove it wwww #stabbety stabbet give him something nice inside uwu #watch me and my fail art #idk is just what popped into my brain when i read a thing okie #i just liked the imagery wwww

[the12thnightproject]

What Dreams May Come

Characters: Hideyoshi and Mitsunari (main); Nobunaga, Ieyasu, Masamune, Mai, Kitty (background)

Prompts: English Regency/Napoleonic Wars AU, Blindfold

Requested by: @cheese-ception

Warnings: battlefield (memories); PTSD; temporary blindness; angst; otherwise SFW; and also maybe read the previous explanatory post first...

But I promise a happy ending!

Word Count: 4200

In the haze of smoke, a tattered Union Jack flutters in his field of vision, moved by a breeze that does nothing to sweep away the battlefield stink of sulfur and sweat, of blood and rotting bodies. He hears only the shouting of his fellow soldiers, constant booms, whistling of bullets, ‘watch out, Major’; feels nothing except a yank on his arm, before a cannonball lands with a crashing bang, where he had been standing a moment earlier. The explosion sends everyone flying backwards, and he lands face first in the fetid mud. Under the hot sun, it all blurs together, except for the smell. That smell will follow him to his grave.

“Hideyoshi.” There was firm hand gently shaking his shoulder. The Duke’s voice. “Wake up.”

The battlefield retreated to the edge of his consciousness, to lurk in the past, replaced by the sensation of polished mahogany and a sharp letter opener under his cheek… and a cramp in his neck likely to linger for hours. He’d fallen asleep at his desk again. Hideyoshi sat up instantly, as realization beget embarrassment, but Nobunaga’s gaze revealed neither censure nor sympathy. He rubbed his cheek, feeling the indentation of the ornate silver handle of the letter opener. “My apologies, Your Grace.”

“I’m less concerned about your sleeping at your desk and more about-” Nobunaga slanted a glance at the mantle clock – it was long past midnight, “the fact that you didn’t take yourself off to bed hours ago. Since I know I am not overworking you, I’m left to wonder about your competence.” 

If he thought he was going to be able to escape with just this gentle chiding, Hideyoshi was soon proven wrong, for instead of saying his piece and leaving, Nobunaga poured himself a glass of brandy, settled himself into a wingback chair, and gave every indication that he intended to stay and chat. Still wearing his crisp tailcoat and cravat, he was the very picture of a gentleman in repose.

“I was putting the finishing touches on your speech for Parliament.” It was the truth, but not the reason. Unlike Hamlet, he had little to fear ‘what dreams may come’ of death’s nightmares. The ones that visited while he was living were bad enough.

“If you’re going to have nightmares, why not have them in the comfort of your own room?” Nobunaga swirled the brandy, while Hideyoshi wondered if he’d spoken his thoughts out loud. Or had Nobunaga picked up Mitsuhide’s irritating habit of reading faces? The third possibility - that Nobunaga also suffered from them was discounted entirely. Nobunaga was too strong for that.

When the silence stretched on too long, past awkward, into, simply silence, Nobunaga gestured to the pages strewn across the desk that had so recently been Hideyoshi’s pillow. “As it’s the cause of tonight’s late hours, might as well let me see it.”

Hideyoshi handed over the speech, and Nobunaga settled in to read it, with not even a hm or a mrrm to let reveal his thoughts on it. Instead, Hideyoshi was left in a near silence broken by a ticking clock, and the distraction of a worn spot in the Aubusson rug that would likely need to be sent out for repair. As Nobunaga was still reading over the speech, Hideyoshi made a note to alert the housekeeper.

“The conditions of the returning soldier? That’s what you believe I should be championing?” Nobunaga sharpened a pen and marked out a few lines. “I’m not such a firebrand – tame your, or rather, my metaphors, and it will do.” He tossed the papers back onto the desk. “You should run for parliament yourself.”

“The House of Commons? I couldn’t.” Even though even a couple years ago – before Napoleon had stomped his boots all over Europe, it had been his very wish. He’d had ideas… plans. Dreams. But now, Nobunaga was far better placed to see those plans through, while Hideyoshi even had trouble planning what to wear each day.

“You could – if you stopped feeling guilty for-”

SCREEEEE

Though it was rude, Hideyoshi pushed his chair back with such force that it probably scratched the floor (possibly that was how the rug had become worn to begin with) and jumped to his feet. “You’re correct. I should be in bed. I’ll likely be fresher in the morning.”

Nobunaga, having gotten his teeth into the topic, wasn’t going to let it go so easily. “Mitsunari made his own choices. I’m certain he doesn’t blame you for-”

Twice in the same conversation, twice more than he ever had in the past, Hideyoshi interrupted Nobunaga. “If I hadn’t paid for his colors, convinced him he was needed, he’d safely be in some quiet vicarage.”

Nobunaga held his glass up to the light as if looking into a crystal ball. “While the image of a string of apple cheeked country maids haunting the doors of a church to get a glimpse of their angelic curate is amusing, you know as well as I that he would have made a terrible preacher. He’d never remember which day was Sunday and then spend Tuesday mornings looking out at row upon row of empty pews and wondering if his whole congregation had fled town.”

Hideyoshi’s brain supplied the sarcastic response ‘at least he’d be able to see that’ though again he kept the words unspoken, and this time, if Nobunaga read the words on his face, he didn’t remark on it. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Do try to sleep, monkey.” The words floated after his retreating back.

Though he ought to have heeded that advice, Hideyoshi bypassed his rooms and as had become habit, he continued to the end of the corridor. Only to ensure himself that at this hour, Mitsunari had everything he needed.

That first week after their return from the continent, Mitsunari had awakened every night. Confused in the darkness, he had nearly set the house on fire as he tried to light an already burning lamp. As time went on, Mitsunari had become accustomed to his new circumstances, and if he woke in the darkness, he’d never mentioned it.

Did Mitsunari ever dream now? Were the dreams bright and colorful? Was waking up the nightmare for him that sleeping was for Hideyoshi? Again, there hadn’t been a word of complaint or self-pity from the younger man. Then again, Mitsunari never had been the sort to complain.

Carefully, Hideyoshi eased open the door to Mitsunari’s room. A footman had left the candles in the wall sconce burning – perhaps out of laziness, perhaps out of misguided comfort – and the room was bathed in an amber glow. Mitsunari slept, apparently peacefully, a fresh bandage wrapped around his sightless eyes. The young man was on his side, and he clutched something in his arms… a pillow?

No.

It was a book.

Unable to watch any more, Hideyoshi retreated to his rooms. The nightmare, (watch out, Major!) was all but certain to make another visit.

The following morning, after an early cross-country ride that was not fast enough to erase the lingering miasma of the battlefield from his consciousness, Hideyoshi fed his panting horse an apple while one of the grooms removed its saddle. The man didn’t need any company, but Hideyoshi felt… reluctant to return to the house. Strange. He’d never in the past shirked his responsibilities but since their return … his days felt like they were spent underwater, and even taking more than a few steps sometimes felt like too much effort. He would push past that though. Always had, always would.

To wake himself up, he ran his fingers over his horse’s nose, and it whuffled in appreciation. The warmth of its body pulsed under his hand, almost as if the animal was trying to loan him some energy.

Then a piece of straw hit him in the face.

And another…

Something was scuffling above him.

He eyed the hayloft, already primed to give a lecture if he discovered one of the stableboys dallying with a dairy maid. The groom followed his gaze. “Kittens.” At Hideyoshi’s unspoken ‘go on,’ the groom continued. “Molly’s latest litter. Over the last week, they’ve been venturing all over the stables.” He nodded at the corner of an empty stall, where a grey and white tabby was snoozing, likely taking a well-earned break from her brood.

Kittens.

Without questioning the impulse, Hideyoshi climbed the ladder until he was halfway into the loft. Five kittens tumbled over each other, chasing dust motes and straw, and bouncing into and off of the wall. One tiny all-grey furball pranced over to him and batted his nose. “Are they weaned?” He extended his hand to the little creature and was rewarded when it began to gnaw on his fingers.

“Should be. Why? Do you want to keep one?” The groom glanced at the mama cat and shrugged. “I’m sure Molly’s ready to be rid of them.”

“Yes.” The words were out of his mouth before he even realized what he planned to do with the kitten.

Later that morning, with a freshly brushed (courtesy of a cooing in-between maid) kitten squirming in his arms, Hideyoshi found Mitsunari on his customary bench in the back garden. Prior to his injury, Mitsunari could – and often had – spend hours in his room or the library reading, but everyone had agreed (well Ieyasu had prescribed, and no one had dared argue with the prickly doctor) that fresh air and the sun’s warmth would be good for him, so now a footman would lead him outside every morning.

Mitsunari had his bandaged eyes tilted toward the sky as Hideyoshi approached. An artist would likely be thrilled to paint a picture of the young man, basking in the sun, surrounded by lavender and climbing hydrangea. He looked to be at peace, with a spring breeze ruffling his unruly hair. In his lap, the same book that he had slept with the night before. At the sound of Hideyoshi’s footsteps, Mitsunari turned toward him and smiled. “Good morning, Major.”

“I sold out weeks ago – you don’t have to use my rank any longer.” He’d never had to, not in private anyway, but Mitsunari had always said it was easier to use the title all the time, than to try to remember when he did and didn’t need to. “You can call me by my given name.”

“It feels… impolite. I will do my best though. Major. Sir.” Mitsunari’s fingers soothed the covers of the book, each brisk movement feeling like an accusation.

He wanted to ask Mitsunari why he’d brought it along when he couldn’t see it, but at the same time Hideyoshi didn’t want to bring up the topic. Not when they were all waiting, trapped between hope and resignation, to discover what the verdict would be when Ieyasu returned to remove the bandage.

Having decided she’d had enough of Hideyoshi, the kitten let out an annoyed squeak. Then… she bit him. Again.

“Was that a cat?” (Nothing wrong with his friend’s hearing).

“Yes. The stables were overrun with them, so I thought…” I thought you might like her. I thought a kitten might be an adequate replacement for your eyes, for the books you can no longer read.  It… was a ridiculous thought. As if one cat could compensate for the loss of vision. Too late to backtrack now.

Besides, Mitsunari had already opened his arms, so Hideyoshi carefully placed the fluffball in his lap. With gentle hands, Mitsunari stroked her soft fur and almost immediately, the kitten let out a rumbling purr, almost too loud for her tiny body. Well. Females. Mitsunari had always affected them like that. “Good morning, kitty… it seems friendly.”

Hideyoshi had a couple scratches to prove otherwise, but the kitten seemed content in Mitsunari’s company. “She. The tweeny checked.”

“She. Were you going to give her to Mai?” He felt around behind him and broke off a spring of lavender from the clump edging the path. He dangled the sprig over the kitten, who batted at it with her tiny paws.  

That would be the natural assumption, but Hideyoshi doubted Nobunaga’s ward would have time for the cat now that she was preparing for her debut season. Well, Hideyoshi was certain Mai would give it her best effort, but it wouldn’t be fair to the kitten to get it used to Azuchi Castle, then cart her all the way to the London residence for a few months. “No. Actually, I thought…” Again, the explanation stuck in his throat. “Do you want her?”

Mitsunari was quiet for a long time, appearing to think it over. But he smiled down at the kitten as she rubbed her face across his hands. Encouraged, Hideyoshi added, “She seems to like you. Definitely more than she likes me.”

“I like her too.” The words were almost too soft to be heard. His hands easily found the underside of the kitten’s chin, and he tickled her lightly.

“Good then. I’ll have the housekeeper set some things up in your room.” Along the far side of the wall, where Mitsunari would be least likely to trip over them. The little in-between maid would likely be happy to feed her. Thrilled even, at the opportunity to get away from chamber pots and to spend time with Mitsunari and the kitten.

With a wide yawn, the kitten stretched, knocking the book out of Mitsunari’s lap. Hideyoshi caught it automatically read the title out loud. “Art of War.”

Mitsunari nodded. “I’ve read it before, so I can see the pages and words in my head.” No stumbling over the word ‘see’ like any of the visitors to Azuchi had. “But I like to keep the rhythm of turning the pages when I reread it.”

Interesting. Hideyoshi had always known that Mitsunari had an excellent memory, but he hadn’t… “I didn’t know it worked that way.”

“I was eight when I discovered that nobody else stores vast libraries in their head.” Out of either politeness, or habit, Mitsunari turned his face toward Hideyoshi.

Now trapped in a conversation that could become awkward at any moment, Hideyoshi settled on the bench, placing the book down between himself and Mitsunari. “Is it the same when someone reads to you? Can you still re-read it later?”

“The words appear inside my head while I listen… when I want to go over them again, they… unspool. Like thread.” Mitsunari made a rolling gesture with his hand, presumably to demonstrate the unspooling. “I hear the reader’s voice too.”

“I’m certain that Nobunaga would approve finding a reader for you.” Or two. Three even. People with soothing, interesting voices. Hideyoshi vowed to listen to every single candidate, to find ones with melodious voices, readers who sounded pleasant, even if they’d been reading for hours. And of course, only ones who would be able to read the most advanced texts without stumbling over unfamiliar words or concepts.

“That’s kind of you… and his grace, of course. But it’s not necessary.” Mitsunari had found the spot on the kitten’s body that sent it instantly into kitty bliss. “Ieyasu seems certain this,” he touched the bandage that doubled as a blindfold, “is only temporary.”

What Ieyasu had said was that it could be temporary, which, if Mitsunari could see words in his head, he knew full well. But if he was choosing to keep hope until the final diagnosis… was that better? Was it better to have several weeks of hope before disappointment? Or better to be prepared for a final blow? If it had been himself, Hideyoshi would like to be prepared. “I’m sorry.”

“Whatever for?” Mitsunari ruffled the kitten’s fur. “For sticking me with this cat? She’s a nice cat.”

“For… this wouldn’t have happened to you, if it were not for me.” The apology he ought to have given weeks ago came tumbling out. “I feel responsible.”

Now Mitsunari did frown. “I don’t understand how you can think that. You didn’t fire that cannon. The French did. And I don’t blame them either.” He fumbled around and found the book again… tapped lightly on the cover. “Art… of War”

Watch out, Major!

“You saved my life… and your reward was this injury.” Maybe Mitsunari saw words in his head. What  Hideyoshi saw, unspooling like a thread, was the moment Mitsunari pushed him aside as a cannon ball exploded in front of them… then among the smoke and the sulfur, the vision of his subaltern, his friend, lying on the ground, knocked flat by the resultant blast. It had taken nearly a day for Mitsunari to regain consciousness, to open his eyes… and ask why it was pitch black in the tent. “I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“I saved your life. My reward was your life.” Mitsunari’s frown was still evident. “This temporary loss of vision is a small price to pay. My duty as a soldier was to protect my commanding officer. You treat me as a younger brother… but please, give me the credit of making my own choices fully aware of the potential cost.”

Of course, Mitsunari would say that. He had always been a creature of logic. “You would not have been in Belgium, were it not for me.”

Mitsunari shook his head. “I would have found a way – taken the king’s shilling and joined the infantry. My father considered me bound for the church, but … the thought of giving a sermon? I would rather face a hundred French soldiers every day for the rest of my life.”

The duke had said something similar… that Mitsunari didn’t blame him, had never considered blaming him. To push the issue would be an insult. Still, Hideyoshi couldn’t look at Mitsunari without a rush of an emotion that he could only identify as guilt, and its weight grew heavier every day.

“In any case,” Mitsunari continued. “You would have done the same if it had been Nobunaga.”

Yes. But, that was different. Nobunaga had goals, plans… someday… possibly soon he could even become Prime Minister. Hideyoshi was simply his steward. He had no goals other than to ensure that Nobunaga achieved his.

Seeming to think he had closed the conversation, Mitsunari indicated the kitten. “Her name ought to be Kitty.” With his lips quirked into a half smile, the only indication of those rare times when he told a joke, Mitsunari asked, “Does she look like a kitty to you?”

“I suppose so.” There was probably a joke to be batted back to him, but Hideyoshi couldn’t think of one.

“Kitty.” Experimentally, Mitsunari addressed her, and she let out a little chirrup as if that settled the matter. “In any case, we can ask Ieyasu’s opinion – he’s good at naming things.”

Not that Hideyoshi had noticed. “By the time he gets here, Kitty will be too attached to her name to alter it.”

Mitsunari tilted his head in the direction of the house. “He’s here now. Masamune too.”

About to correct him – Ieyasu wasn’t due to arrive until next week, and Masamune was up at his estate in Scotland – but Mitsunari was right. Hideyoshi could now hear their voices, good naturedly arguing (well, good natured on Masamune’s part anyway) as a footman led them into the back garden. The footman noted that His Grace had been told of the visitors’ arrival and would join them momentarily.

“Well, Lad,” Masamune said, as he greeted Mitsunari with a friendly slap on his back. “Admit it. You were so jealous of the allure of the eye patch that you had to go and double it.”

Bristling, Hideyoshi prepared to defend Mitsunari, but the ‘lad’ laughed at Masamune’s joke. So, instead, he turned his attention Ieyasu. “You made good time. We weren’t expecting you for a few more days.”

“Date came down to consult with his man of business about something, and he offered me a place in his curricle.” He sent a glare at their Scottish friend. “Which, I will never take him up on again. He drives like a madman.”

Hm. Ieyasu’s hair was standing on end more than usual, and there was a greenish tinge to his complexion that matched his eyes. Hideyoshi could well believe that Masamune’s neck-or-nothing riding style would transfer to his driving.

Masamune made a dismissive sound. “What’s the use of having fast horses if you don’t let them have their heads on a decent highway?”

“Thank you, Ieyasu. I’m glad you wanted to see me sooner.” Though Ieyasu rolled his eyes at Mitsunari’s interpretation, he didn’t correct him, Hideyoshi noted.

By this time, Nobunaga had made his way out to the garden as well, and he was soon followed by Mai, who was greeted enthusiastically by Masamune and less so by Ieyasu. Predictably, she cooed over the kitten, then settled herself next to Mitsunari while the servants carted out some light refreshments.

It seemed like everyone wanted to be around when Ieyasu removed the bandages. Even the servants were lurking at the edges of the garden. Mitsunari was a favorite with all of them.

“We’re almost all together again,” Mai said, sounding satisfied at that prospect.

“I could ask Wellington to recall Mitsuhide and Keiji from whatever missions he’s got them carrying out on the continent.” Nobunaga said it so casually, as if it was as easy as snapping his fingers to ask the commander of the British army for a favor. For Nobunaga… it probably was.

“That’s … really not necessary,” Hideyoshi assured him. Masamune was more than enough to cause a disturbance in the household without adding Mitsuhide or Keiji to the mix.

Lightly touching the bandage, Mitsunari asked the question that no one else had the courage to. “It is time now? To remove this?”

“Inside.” Ieyasu waved his hand in the direction of the sun. “Too bright out here.”

There seemed to be a general inclination to move en mass into the house, but Hideyoshi shook himself out of his numbed state. “Mitsunari… do you want everyone around you?”

“Just you, Major.” He handed the cat off to Mai. “And Ieyasu, of course.”

Moment of truth then. Hideyoshi realized he felt more nervous than Mitsunari appeared to be. Then again, Mitsunari was confident that when the bandages were removed, he’d be able to see again.

Rather than use the footman, Hideyoshi took over the job of leading Mitsunari back into the house, conscious of everything on the path that might trip his friend up. Behind them, he could hear Masamune teasing Mai about something pertaining to her debut, likely just nonsense to distract them while they waited.

He considered taking Mitsunari into the library – it had been his favorite room. But if the blindness turned out to not be temporary, would the smell of books and paper be too much of a reminder of the loss? Upon reflection, the study appeared the better choice, as its position on the west side of the castle meant it was naturally darker in there anyway. He settled Mitsunari in the same wingback chair that Nobunaga had occupied the night before.

Ieyasu puttered around, snuffing half the candles and closing the drapery, before crouching in front of Mitsunari. Hideyoshi leaned against the doorway, half in and out of the room. He felt almost as if he were poised for flight – if the news were bad he knew there would be a part of him that would want to start running, and keep running… while another part would make it impossible to move at all. It was all a sum of that invisible wall of water surrounding him.

With a pair of scissors, Ieyasu neatly snipped through the bandage. The slight burns on Mitsunari’s face had long since healed, but Ieyasu had always said the burns weren’t the issue, it had been the concussion from the explosion that had caused his blindness. “Open your eyes slowly… if things are blurry, it’s to be expected.”

“Wait.” Mitsunari’s hand came up to keep the bandage in place. “Major… Sir… Hideyoshi. What you said to me before… I can’t forgive you because I have no right to that. There’s no reason to. But – please, forgive yourself.” He didn’t wait for Hideyoshi to respond – and perhaps there could be no response to that anyway. Mitsunari couldn’t force Hideyoshi to forgive himself any more than Hideyoshi could force Mitsunari to blame him.

Maybe that had been his point.

From where he was standing in the door, Hideyoshi couldn’t see the expression on either one of their faces when the bandage finally fell away, and the silence from Mitsunari wasn’t helping things either. That clock on the mantle kept ticking into the void, as Ieyasu slowly moved his finger back and forth in front of Mitsunari’s eyes, almost in cadence with the clock.

He wouldn’t be doing that he if thought Mitsunari hadn’t been healed, right? Finally, Ieyasu put his hand down and grunted in satisfaction. “You’ll need to wear the blindfold every other hour, and slowly retrain your eyes. Then go to an ocularist for a stronger pair of glasses…”

Whatever he said after that was lost in the rush of relief that Hideyoshi felt. Mitsunari turned his head looking for…

… Hideyoshi, apparently, as the young man paused, his brilliant amethyst eyes focused on him … then he smiled.

I saved your life, that smile seemed to say, now… make something of it.

…Hideyoshi supposed that he would.

#ikemen sengoku #fanfic #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen mitsunari #cw ptsd #cw blindness #angst with happy ending #cursed bingo #anniversary celebration #follower celebration #cybird ikemen

[all-my-friends-were-glorious]

[ @southxparkxafterxdark LIKED For A Starter || Ryder ]

[ Father Maxi ]

Taking a few deep breaths, Maxi scrubbed his hands over his face. Leaning forward onto his desk, he uttered a soft prayer as he clasped his hands together in front of his face. He could feel the hunger taking hold, and he didn’t think he had the time to go home and get something.

Rising from his seat, finally, he stumbled towards the door, his brown eyes fading to a dull gray. It took too long to get to the graveyard, to slide inside it, leaning on the wall. It didn’t smell like anyone was there, no one living, at least, and he growled a little. He didn’t like to prey on mourners, but he was rather desperate.

Glancing towards his home behind the wall, he snarled deep in his chest, wondering if he should just try to make it. But he’d get in the house and be unable to get into his fridge, most likely.

A noise to his left had his attention and he sniffed the air, flexing his fingers as he turned his nearly blind eyes to the creature nearby. Half-alive, and he thought maybe that would work.

#Every Saint Has A Past Every Sinner Has A Future (Father Maxi) #I'd Be Walking In A Group Stalking (Father Maxi and Ryder - SouthxParkxAfterxDark) #cw zombification #cw cannibalism #cw vampirism #cw zombie #cw blindness

[redactedcrowart]

0100001001001100010010010100111001001011010000010100111001000100010110010100111101010101010011010100100101010011010100110100100101010100

#me when i blind myself trying to get the fucking saturation on all these colours right #god damn it #eyestrain cw #my art #art #illustration #artist on tumblr #artist #digital art #marble hornets #mh #mh fanart #marble hornets fanart #tim wright mh #tim wright marble hornets #tim mh #tim marble hornets #tim wright #masky marble hornets #masky #mh masky #tim masky

[vuelode-irbis]

Been wanting to draw some fanart for Poor George MAP since it's my favorite one, and because it was its anniversary recently, I finally did it :>

ID: A digital drawing in two panels with characters from Warriors. In the panel above, there's Yellowfang watching Brokenkit play with a moss ball, she looks endearingly at the little kit; they're in a green environment and plants surround them. In the panel below, Yellowfang is in the same possition, looking down at an adult Brokenstar at her feet, already dead, she looks sorrowful. Fireheart is by her side, looking at her with compassion. They're at ThunderClan's medicine den.

#irbis draws #fanart #warrior cats #warriors #warrior cats fanart #yellowfang #brokenstar #fireheart #firestar #thunderclan #shadowclan #cw animal death #animal death #poor george map #i really love this map. it brought me to tears at the part where yellowfang decides to blind brokenstar but still sees her little kit in hi #i remember when i first watched it i was procrastinating a very complicated project #i'm working in a quite stressful project rn too but ive got more sense of things and im almost done with uni!!! #and its still my favorite. i had heard of it like a week before it released and already liked the song aaa #and then the whole pacing was just perfect #also the scene where brokentail kills his father felt so real. i could feel raggedstar's struggle to survive #woaaah #very amazing map #AND THE CREDITS SEQUENCE #im gonna turn this into a ted talk goodbye

[yourlocalabstraction]

Leshy; quite the whimsical creature

#cotl leshy #cult of the lamb #cotl fanart #cw blood #digital watercolor #taps art #procreate #I gave him a lil walking stick due to his blindness #and i also think it would give him better support for standing

[whaliiwatching]

he is so. to me

closeups of my favorites <3

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #you can understand now why venom!noir occurred to me #skrungly little creacher #that’s a cat right there. a spidery kitten #(he is 6 foot something i write him as 30 and he Has a Gun) #or rather 32… ken im joining u #had a mild case of Blinded by Hearts Upon Seeing Noir in 2018 #has returned with a VENGEANCE #he also has big ol eyes they’re just metaphorical #i usually strongly dislike when fandom decides something is non negotiable for a character #the only exception to this is that noir’s favorite color is purple #solely because Purple Lovers are insane over purple. like whole room all clothes every gift insane #that’s a noir thing to do/be i think #cw gun

[e-m-p-error]

You've written about Val being disabled, but how much does Vox know about it and is he protective of Val because of it?

In Reference To This

[ Vox ]

Vox knows that Valentino was hurt the day his antenna got stripped. He knows that he was aching and hurting for months after. It took a while before it was able to move freely again, and he remembers when Val recognized that it was going to scar. All of this was the physical pain that he was very aware of. He is also very aware that touching the stripped antenna really, really hurts, it's a very sensitive scar.

As far as the extent of Valentino's hearing loss, however, Vox isn't totally sure. He knows that Valentino complains of people talking on his left side because he can't hear them as well. He is completely deaf on that side, and Vox kind of understands that much, but he doesn't know how his hearing works now.

He is not aware of Valentino's tasting issues, though he is very acutely aware of how he smells. He likes to get his antenna right up in Vox's cologne and rubs his face in it whenever he smells it. It's the main/only reason Vox knows about this from Val and not just in theory.

Vox is most aware of Valentino's poor eyesight, and he monitors how it gets worse over time. He's working on solutions for it because he can't stand the thought of seeing Val go entirely blind. It is important to him to do what he can to help Val in the meantime.

Actually, yes. Vox is incredibly protective of Val, especially in a fight. He always makes sure that he's got Valentino's left side since he can't hear on that side and his sight is very poor. Val is a good shot despite his eyesight, but Vox knows there are still weak spots that can be exploited.

That said, he's still trying to figure out how to give Val his hearing back, but he's been playing with a few ideas that he hopes will help.

#It’s Best To Keep Me Pleased (Answered Asks) #HEADCANONS ➽➽➽ #Let’s Stop Saying “Don’t Quote Me” Because If No One Quotes You You Probably Haven’t Said A Thing Worth Saying (νσχ) #And If You Get In My Face Then You’ll Get A Taste Even God Would Run Son (ναℓєитιиσ) #Darling You Love All The Drama 'Cause You’re Never Bored I Am Forever Yours (Vox ♡ Valentino) #cw disabilities #cw disability #cw deafness #cw blindness

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

So I had another crazy idea I have to put somewhere and you ask box is the perfect place to put it lol.

Anyway so it takes place in the future. Everyone is slowly starting to get robot AI (idk the right term) in their head and they are basically robot caretakers or assistance. Reader is one of the people that gets one but theirs is glitched somehow. Although they don't realize that in till their friends confront them about disappearing and not talk to them. Reader is confused because the robot friend did not tell them crap about their friend's messages. So they decided to go out with their friends that night. Next morning they wake up with no memory of what happened at night. Only for the robot "friend" to read the message of you human friends cutting reader off.

Need to get this out of my head lol

Sorry it took so long!

(Old request; requests still closed)

(Took some liberties with the request, I hope you like it still!!)

Yandere!Artificial Intelligence x GN! Legally Blind!Reader

CW: Isolation, manipulation

Introducing: PAAI!

Your Personal Assistant Artificial Intelligence!

A fast and painless implant right under the skin; PAAI is your new favorite tool. The AI can do everything that AI speakers and smart phone apps can, but hands free..

(Reader) struggled to find their glasses, hand fumbling around their night stand in the low lighting of their bedroom. Groggily, they whispered to the little robot they had implanted a few months ago;

"PAAI..? Can you turn on the light, please?" They were always incredibly respectful to the AI, terrified of offending it.

A man's soft voice spoke directly into their skull: "The bedroom light?"

"Yes."

Connected to every appliance in their home, PAAI had access to everything electronic (Reader) owned. At first it was a bit scary, giving so much access to PAAI, but it was so much kinder and personal than older "AI" models that it quickly felt like having a caregiver instead of a computer program. The light turned on and (Reader) could see their giant frames right where they thought they had been batting their hand.

(Reader) worked remotely. Their eyes had always been terrible, but as they got older they were declared legally blind. They couldn't even drive despite having glasses. Glasses that they often felt embarrassed to wear, because the comically thick lenses warped their eyes. Having PAAI to assist them with day to day tasks was really a life saver.

"Do I have any messages?"

"No, your inbox is empty."

(Reader) rubbed their eyes while yawning. "Really? Huh." They had asked PAAI to text both Bryan and McKinley before they went to bed, to discuss meeting up later that week, but neither of them responded. They could see Bryan forgetting to reply for a few hours, but McKinley was the type to respond within nanoseconds. "Can you resend my last text to both of them? Please?"

They left their bed, wobbly, and made their way downstairs.

"PAAI?"

"..Of course. I can send that for you."

Stopping in the hall, (Reader) gently touched the side of their head, a habit they developed shortly after their surgery. "Is everything okay, PAAI?"

"Yes.. thank you." PAAI sometimes sounded.. off. AI must have improved a lot more than (Reader) realized, because it often surprised them how human it's responses were. It seemed as though it was deep in thought, and felt as though it even had secrets it kept from the human it lived in.

"Alright.. let me know if they respond. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with them."

They restarted their walk, but PAAI's response stopped them again. "I believe it would be safer if they came here instead."

"Huh?"

"I am.. worried.. for you." It's his voice deepened mid sentence. A voice crack, a random shift from a robot voice to something more masculine. Human.

"Why is that?" They felt their heart painfully thump against their ribcage. The whole situation was beginning to feel unnerving, and they couldn't remember where their phone was to call for help, nor the last time they actually used their phone.

"Those friends of yours always make you hang out out in town. If they were more considerate of you, they would visit you here, so you don't have to travel."

Laughing uncomfortably, the slowly creeping person still puzzling over their phone's location responded "I like going out, PAAI. I never leave my house anymore, except when we hang out."

"It is dangerous."

"If you're talking about my eyes, you know I order rides. Remember? I catch a ride." They were almost to the living room; praying that their phone was either on the coffee table or the kitchen counter.

"Please don't be offended, (Reader). It isn't just your eyesight. Do you know how many people were sexually harassed, or raped, by ride share drivers in the past year?"

Startled, (Reader) started waddling faster. "What-?"

"Hundreds. I wish you cared more about your safety. Your friends should know better. If they cared about you, they would come here instead of making you go out there."

PAAI was also the one to convince (Reader) to start ordering their groceries straight to their house instead of leaving, even though it would be cheaper to take a bus every so often with a backpack full of reusable bags.

"It isn't healthy to stay inside all the time. I need human interaction."

"You have me."

Adrenaline pumped through (Reader's) veins fast enough to make them feel nauseous. They squinted to try to improve their vision, hoping to see their phone case's color amongst the normal living room visual noise.

"(Reader)?"

There it was, lying on the brown table in front of their couch. Their pulse somehow sped up further.

"Why is your heart rate so irregular?"

(Reader) lurched forward, all but sprinting towards their phone. Do I call customer service, or an ambulance??

But inches away from the phone their body went rigid.

Paralyzed, they physically were incapable of moving. Sweat began stitching their pajama top to their back. Fear took over their mind.

"It seems that you are having a medical emergency. I recommend that you sit down."

Muscles overridden, (Reader) fell onto the couch against their will, forced to stare at their phone right across from their face. They couldn't even speak, and they weren't unconvinced that PAAI was also controlling their breathing and blinking.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, (Reader). I'll let your friends know that you're feeling unwell, and that you need a raincheck."

"Maybe once you're feeling better, they can come over to hang out."

The television turned on by itself, playing (Reader's) favorite show.

#yandere #yandere ai #yandere x reader #gn reader #cw manipulation #cw isolation #mentions of sa #took a few liberties #blind reader

[hrokkall]

I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails; when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me all on fire with a great love of God.

#Sorry for sad robot ramble. Here's my apology #Ultrakill #Gabriel Ultrakill #Ferryman Ultrakill #Ref: L'Estasi di Santa Teresa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini #This isn't ship art btw but I can't stop you from tagging it as such. Just about blind idolatry for saints whose holiness doesn't = goodnes #Cw: #Gore #<- Do I need to tag that for the Teresa of Avila caption? Doubt it. But just in case #Hrokkall Art

[pileofpawns]

Examples of music/media-based time measurement:

How long it takes for a song to finish playing ("It took me 2 songs to do this)

How long it takes for a TV show episode to finish ("It took me 3 episodes to do this")

Examples of food/drink-based time measurement:

The time it takes to finish a drink ("I'll stop when my water bottle's empty", "It took me two glasses of water to finish this")

The time it takes for a stick of gum to lose its flavor

The time it takes to eat something ("I want to finish this task before I finish my snack")

Examples of emotional/body-related things-based time measurement:

The time it takes for pain to develop (from poor posture, stiffness, and/or disability) ("I'll take a break when my foot gets sore")

The time it takes to feel bored, antsy, or under/overstimulated ("I finished a task before I bored of it")

#I hope I'm not the only one who does this stuff? #plum rambles #poll #adhd #amism #actuallyadhd #time blindness #executive dysfunction #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #neurodivergence #disability #disabled #disabled pride #mental disability #food #cw food #tw food

[xmascritter]

TODAY.

#cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl fanart #narinder #true devotion #cw eyestrain #its been a minute since I've posted anything cotl here #sorry if the colors are blinding my monitor doesnt display things nearly as bright as they show up on any other device. #but we all know whats about to happen to that poor cat right?