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austinsastrology8991 · 10 months

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> Ascendant Aspects < How you Appear to be, and how your treated based off your appearances > why you look like a clown without makeup

Ascendant aspecting Sun - I like your smile. Did you put it on for me, or for yourself? yes your charismatic, yes we noticed why your so confident, yes your literally the greatest person do you really need us to shower you in affection all the fkn time? your extra but too many toppings ruin a good pizza. your the embodiment of the cheesy smile from that cat in alice in wonderland. main character energy for sure you get the attention and you know how to use it Ascendant Aspecting moon - 🌚 < dont they look like that.? idk but you guys look like someone you want to grab the cheeks of and treat like a baby, your like a sugar glider. but we know your emotional so we have to be careful with how we grab your cheeks 👀 please stop crying its just a joke > also; big ass eyes. you are so sweet that everyone just wants to take you home and feed you till you become so obese you cant leave Ascendant Aspecting Mercury - the most devilish and cheeky smile all at once. they look like a kid about to do something bad, or have just been caught doing something bad and are now trying to explain why they had to do that dumbassery. but no matter how much you explain yourself, we will still question you because its funny watching you come up with explanations. you give me the vibe of any character from cartoon network or nickledoen - timmy turner, southpark, phineas and ferb, ed edd and eddy, or fkn bart simpson, you act like a cartoon yes.

Ascendant Aspecting Venus - I dont normally do this but whats ur number? is what your used to hearing presumably. and its not necessarily because your attractive... okay you are, you can stop pouting now. but its because you know how to get attention and you clearly love getting it. but they act so superficial, and oblivious sometimes... like they purposrfully look away just so its easier for you to look at them, 💀 then they look back playfully and it gets you in the feels. remind me of doctor who's bitches (any of them) they all act the same idc what you say

Ascendant Aspecting Mars - so pissed off lol but its hot. they are fierce > if they want something they are going to get it, and even the mere consideration of negotiating what they want will just get them more mad. which makes them more attractive? idk people love their ferocity, and as much as people say they don't like aggressive types, they don't ever get in their way when they pissed off (ik because im hot head) your basically a hornet > and no one gonna fight a hornet without the proper precautions Ascendant aspecting Jupiter - Yall are excellent at impressions and being impressionable, idk how you do it so well. You just act normal but then pull off this funny shit and return back to normal like its nothing. you guys perfected just being, and this energy makes people want to be around you. Your like a firework, the explosion is awesome, but when it goes away your like damn that was awesome wish it stayed; but thats what makes it so good, because we never know when its coming, and when its gone we want it back lol Ascendant Aspecting Saturn - batman without the mask sucks. thats you. batman without the mask.... why so serious???? > "because life shouldnt be taking for granted and fuckery aint apart of my Repertoire" - is some whack ass shit yall would say. you have great dignity, but people get insecure around you because your on top of your shit. oh and you tell people to get on top of their shit all the fkn time lol. > your like a crow, you look like one and act like one. - Side note- one time i had a stand off with a crow: I was chilling at home and i was on top of these tile blocks, then this crow came along. I tried to scare him, by like staunching him just a bit. but he responded by gripping the tree branch he was perched on, by twisting his claw foot; and he did it with so much ferocity it made this bone cracking noise (from the strength of his grip gripping the tree) and suddenly i was intimated.... by a fkn crow. okay moving on

Ascendant Aspecting Uranus - how did you even become like that. no one really understands why you act the way you do, you do some really eccentric things which are eye grabbing but also disturbing the more you think about it. your like a sword fish. theres probably more effective ways to kill fish, but i mean a sword works, we are just wondering how you attached a sword to your face. also try to calm down, you doing so much and acting so bizarre that im actually more worried about you, even though im laughing my ass off. Ascendant Aspecting Neptune - your like a mirror of all that i ever could want in a person, and this mysterious allure you so easily pull off is truly enchanting. its like being around you makes it feel as if reality can so easily be readjusted into what i would like it to be. but this quality of urs is addicting, and no wonder people project onto you. but you cant even blame them, you literally shapeshift into whatever you want, and typically you like to show it off. your like a chameleon. or a axolotl Ascendant Aspecting Pluto - you scare people easily lol. your a spider. but spiders are sexy.... look at the BUNDA. okay but those teeth yeesh, have you ever seen a spider like lick its lips, bro its fkn scary. theres a reason arachnophobia is the most popular phobia and its because spiders are fucked. and yall are fucked. you move like a spider, and i swear to god you smile like one too lol. but people low key wanna be eaten by a spider..... so go ahead choose yo prey you fkn creepy crawler

#astrology #astrology blog #astro community #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology placements #ascendant aspects #astrology aspects #astro observations

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splitster · 8 months

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answering more POM WRAITH au/Pingo asks!!

featuring: biology questions, creatures, dingo (unfortunately), and more!! check it out ↓↓

she does need sleep! she doesn't need to sleep as often as people, but she's a little wraith and she needs to snooze every like... i dunno. three days? sure, let's go with that.

although in the first few days of her being on PNF404, i could see her getting bored one night and poking around her crewmate's rooms to see what they're doing (spoilers: they're all just sleeping). in the morning after, dingo talks about a very bizarre dream he had with a specter watching him sleep! everyone dismisses it as the ranger having some weird sleep paralysis, but pom's sweating at the table thinking about how she should be way more careful if she does that again.

this ask did inspire me though, i'll probably make more art explaining how she works sometime later hehe...

that'd be scary... although, if there's anyone incentivized to wraithify olimar, it'd probably be the plasm wraith! that golden goo is really fond of him, and they'd love to make olimar just like them

WAHH THANK YOU!!! if they ever dated and got married they'd be able to save on a dress! hehe

she might look kinda scary but she's a sweetheart!! pom would genuinely struggle to make herself hurt humans. if there's a beast threatening her crew though -- that thing is mince meat!!

WAAAHHH THANK YOU!! it's definitely a challenge to make it fit with the other wraiths but still be unique... it was fun to design though!!

IM SORRY i didn't get to your ask before i actually posted the full wraith design... there she is though!! HILAHERHLIAEERH

yes!! he's the first one to discover her secret. it'd probably happen on accident out on the field pretty early on when pom is forced to defend herself with no pikmin, but it's no difference to Oatchi -- pom is pom! he'd bark and give her helmet a lick, and when pom realizes her rescue pup isn't scared of her it's quite the relief...

i have art of oatchi and wraith pom i'll be posting later!!

WAHHH... this is cute i like this hehe!! dingo sees those striking X eyes and still falls in love!! GRRRR i must draw more pingo now...

AUGH.... OK!! more pingo on the way then boss 🫡 (i do appreciate it though lmao)

she doesn't need to eat human food, but she does need to consume living creatures for biomass! human food is definitely delicious and she very much enjoys things like chocolate or hot coco, but to sustain her form and keep up energy she has to go for creatures

i'll probably make art for this later to explain better, but it is kinda like an amoeba -- after killing something, she can cover it and dissolve it with her goo. easy peasy!

Louie: You're a wraith? I thought you were just weird like me Pom: ... Louie: ... Can you go get creatures for me

pom is trying her best to understand human social cues and etiquette but it's a struggle sometimes!

i took psychic damage from this ask thank you for penis ringo💖

YES!!!!!!!!! there are so, so many ways that could happen and each one is hilarious... i've written out a few different scenarios, i should pick one to draw out... it'd be funny if dingo learns her secret but decides to trust her and keep it safe. but he's, you know. dingo. he's not good at lying, especially to his crewmates (and especially to his actual childhood friend of a doctor who was already very suspicious of the new blood!)

of COURSE i'm very abnormal about those two.... actually if y'all have scenarios you wanna see with those two, send more asks and i'll probably end up drawing them lol

that's actually a really good question! i haven't thought too much about how her full wraith would visually change, but if she ate enough and got stronger i imagine she'd finally be as big as the other two. she'd probably gain more wraithy abilities and attacks! trying to take down a powered up full wraith pom would be a very difficult fight, even for those with the best dandori skills and a full squad of pikmin

Pom: I can't let anyone find out my secret... Shepherd: I can't let anyone find out my secret... Collin: I can't let anyone find out my secret... Dingo: I can't let anyone find out my secret... Yonny: this is gonna be fun Bernard: (doesn't care if people find out) Russ: (doesn't care if people find out) Oatchi: bark

#modpost #modask #pom wraith au #thank you all for the asks!!#i'm gonna try to keep the asks in batches like these #i still have a bunch to get to #pingo

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staytinyville · 7 months

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OUTLAW (25)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none, another spicy chapter you already knoooow

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). Tell me more. We love Jongho my boy needs more love. Turn it up for him!! Also yes. I too would click quickly on updated stories lol. Thank you for liking it so much!

For all 9 people to be packed into one tent, there wasn’t much room to move about. If someone were to trip, the entire tarp was going to come down. However, each one of you were beyond worried and wanted to hear first hand what the diagnosis for Jongho was.

“Out of all the weapons those gang members have, you get injured from falling into a hole.” Yeosang had a deep set frown, harshly wrapping Jongho’s knee between two sticks while still being gentle.

“At least he took out that one guy with him.” Wooyoung pointed out.

It seemed that the story went; Jongho was throwing punches with a guy when he stepped into a hole and his ankle twisted. From doing this, his knee gave out on him, which made him fall. While being on the floor he took the chance to pull on his assailant’s leg to trip him. From there, Jongho was able to find a branch and beat him with it.

“I'm fine.” Jongho winced when Yeosang lightly pressed his fingers into the side of the knee in warning.

“Jongho, your leg is purple.” Yeosang sighed. “You probably irritated your old injury.”

Yeosang stood up after placing Jongho’s leg down onto the bedspread. The boy had been brought in to lay down, the others making sure he was off the injury.

“I wouldn't be surprised if it's a sprain. You should be fine in a couple of days if that's the case, though.” Yeosang explained. “Just keep off it and wrapped tightly. No leaving the bed for today and tomorrow. You can start to walk on crutches in a few days.”

“But we have things to do-” Yeosang held up a finger to stop Jongho.

“We do.” The man pointed to himself and the others. “You can rest here for the time being.” The look in his eyes held no room for an argument.

You knew Yeosang was the one who cared for them when in a medical emergency and you could see he took his expertise very seriously. The others seemed to also be wary of him when he was acting as doctor. They looked like they wouldn’t dare to go against Yeosang’s orders.

“What am I supposed to do?” Jongho pouted, crossing his arms.

“Nothing!” Wooyoung exclaimed with a smile. “Enjoy your time. Sounds like you'll be having a blast!”

“I'm sorry, Jongho.” Yeosang sighed. “I know you get antsy, but you have to stay in bed tomorrow.”

Yeosang’s words only made Jongho’s pout deepen. “What if I need to pee?”

“One of us will take care of you.” The boys who were near you suddenly cringed, silently groaning. “Don't worry.” Yeosang added.

“I'll take care of him.” You spoke up, moving the boys aside to reach Jongho.

You came up beside Yeosang, the boy looking down at you with furrowed eyebrows. By the look on Jongho’s face, the older boy knew the younger one was not too excited about you taking care of him.

“You sure?” He asked you.

“Yeah, don't worry about it.” You gave Yeosang a reassuring smile. “If I need help I'll be sure to call for one of you.” You looked at the others, giving them the same smile.

“Alright then. Sounds like a plan.” Wooyoung slapped the person next to him on the shoulder. Mingi squeaked, giving Wooyoung the side eye.

As the boys all shuffled out, making sure to tell Jongho to listen, Yunho walked closer to you. “If he makes you upset, don't be afraid to come to one of us.” He told you softly.

While you weren’t upset with the boy, he knew that Jongho was holding some kind of resentment towards you after that night. It was a stupid reason, but hopefully you both could solve it with the time you spend with him.

“I'll be fine.” You told Yunho. He hummed, turning around to leave the two of you alone.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the two of you were alone in the tent. You looked around for a bit, taking note of everything before wanting to make small talk. “Would you like anything?” You asked.

“No.” He immediately told you.

He kept his eyes on his leg, poking at it as he messed with the pain it gave him. He didn’t flinch or make a sound, so you knew he would stop right before things got too painful.

“Seonghwa is making dinner. I'll bring it to you when it finishes.” You told him, turning around to leave, but you stopped short.

He hadn’t given you an answer when you reached the door so you whipped back around to look at him. “Are you mad at me?” You spoke up, almost shouting it, as you didn’t have a proper hold on your emotions.

Jongho’s head whipped up to look at you, a confused expression on his face. “Where would you get that?” He shook his head.

While his words were meant to deter you from thinking he was in fact mad, the way he looked at you made you think otherwise.

“You've been avoiding me since last night. I wanted to speak with you.” You looked down, fiddling with your fingers.

“You're speaking now.” Jongho shrugged.

“Jongho.” You told him exaggeratedly, getting annoyed with the way he seemed to dodge your questions.

He looked away from your glare, jaw clenching as he tried to come up with what to say. “Sorry. I'm just annoyed.” He sighed.

You huffed as you looked at his knee. “It's only for one day. You can move again soon.” You told him. “Yeosang said you irritated your old wound. Have you hurt your leg before?” You asked him quietly

“Yeah.” Jongho sighed. “It's sensitive to certain movements.” He moved his knee a bit, wincing from a surge of pain.

“I see.” You nodded your head. You looked around once more, dropping your shoulders when he wasn’t going to talk more to you. “I'll leave you to it then.” You turned around, planning to actually leave this time.

However, he was the one who called out to you. “Why are you still here?” He asked you. You whipped your head around to look at him, confused. “You could be at home in a nice bed, working in the hotel.”

Your jaw ticked as you looked down. There was a growing pain in your chest at his words that made tears almost pool in your eyes. “Do you want me gone?” You asked him quietly.

Jongho began to frown at your tone. It hurt him to have you think he didn’t want you to stay. To stay by their sides. He knows the other’s would be happy with the way he was speaking to you, but all he could think about was the smile on your face if you were to have a better life.

“No.” He answered, looking down at his lap.

“Then why are you pushing me to leave?” You walked over to his side, falling down onto your knees to sit next to him.

“Because you don't deserve this.” Jongho admitted to you.

You knew where he was coming from, but all of a sudden you felt angry with how he was choosing things for you.”Why do you get to choose what I deserve? Better yet, how could you know what I deserve?” You told him. “You don't know me.”

“You don't know us either!” Jongho retorted.

“What if I want to!?” You suddenly asked. You took in a deep breath, trying to calm down as tears pooled in your eyes. “You-You all make me feel like I'm somebody. Like I'm meant to be here.” You admitted to him.

“I have never once ever made a friend who didn't belittle me for the way I thought or acted. You guys don't make me feel like I'm the strange one. But you keep saying I don't deserve this, which means I don't deserve to be happy.” You looked down, hands clenching your pants.

Jongho suddenly felt lost for words, realizing how harsh he was being with you. “I didn't mean that-”

“But you still keep pushing me away.” You cried. “It hurts to have you think that.” You sniffled lightly.

He tried to scoot closer to you, to bring you into his arms in a hug. When you noticed his movements, you were quick to allow yourself to fall forward. “Love, I'm sorry. That's not what I want.” He whispered into your hair.

“Then why are you doing it?” You asked quietly, your words muffled by his shirt.

Jongho pursed his lip, looking up at the roof before leaning back down to pull you closer to him. “Because it'll make me selfish to keep you here.”

You pulled back to look at him. “Aren't we all selfish?”

“Not you.” He shook his head, hand running over your cheek. “Never you.”

You saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, which prompted you to do the same. “How would you know?” You asked him.

“Because I know you.” He pulled you closer, his nose rubbing against yours. “No matter what you do, you'll always think about others first.”

With a suction of breath, you pulled yourself to touch his lips with yours. His hands were warm as they moved to your neck and pulled you closer. You noticed how his kiss was soft yet demanding. He wanted you to know that, while he was sweet about it, he was the one moving you along.

You raised to your knees to get closer to him, which led him to place his hand on your waist. As you shuffled closer, his hands bunched up your shirt. Jongho didn’t use his tongue like the others had, which made you lick his lips just the tiniest of bits. He suddenly sucked in a breath as his nostrils flared from the contact.

Your eyes flew open as he suddenly gripped your waist around his arm and moved you to fall into his lap. You squeaked, but Jongho didn’t allow you to pull back from him. With his other arm, he made sure to keep your head close to his. He didn’t want you to break the kiss and you knew that.

You began to pant as his mouth only seemed to push you along, lifting your hips up to get more comfortable in the man’s lap. Before you realize it, you swing one leg over Jongho’s thighs, straddling him. Jongho took advantage of the position to place both hands on your back and pull you closer. His good knee lifted, which caused you to shift further up his legs.

You pulled your lips from Jongho’s, however the man took the invitation to continue kissing down your jaw. Your head fell back as the new sensations left shivers going down your spine. Your fingers moved to the back of his neck, hands finding their way into his shirt to feel his heated skin. You stuck your hand down the back of his shirt, nails scratching lightly.

Your other hand went to his scalp, digging into his hair. When his lips suddenly touched your collar bone, you leaned back onto his lifted knee, causing him to pull forward. As you did so, you let out a moan from the juncture between your thighs rubbing up against him. Your eyes went wide as you both stared up at each other.

“Sheesh, Love.” He returned to your mouth like a starved man this time around.

He wasn’t careful anymore–he allowed his hands to roam every part of your covered body as they pleased. Jongho grabbed fistfuls of the side of your thighs, digging you deeper onto his lap. You fell forward, feeling the pressure on your most sensitive area. It left you panting and wanting to rub against it more.

However, you were quickly stopped when you realized just how fast you were going. The build up was already coming up on you, which made you pull back from Jongho as you tried to calm down your racing heart.

He allowed you to lay your head down on his shoulders, feeling your thighs twitch on his as you tried to come down from the stimulation. He frowned to himself as he noticed how sensitive you truly were, deciding to soothe your skin by rubbing your back.

“Are you okay?” He asked you quietly.

“Yeah,” You answered. “I’ve just never done that before.” You pulled back from him, suddenly feeling something between your legs.

Your eyes went wide and you made quick work of getting off him. “I’m so sorry!” You gasped, falling backwards.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Jongho frowned, watching your flushed face. When he noticed how you seemed to shy away from him, he came up with a conclusion. “Have you never done any of that before?” He asked you, tilting his head.

You shook your head slowly. “I had my first kiss with Mingi.”

Jongho’s eyes suddenly went wide as his hands dropped beside him. “Well, that’s kind of important.”

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki , @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry , @puppyminnnie ,

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worriedvision · 1 year

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arguing with alhaitham and reader goes to leave, goes missing for a bit, and comes back with no memory at all ! (make it hurt tysm)

Oh wow I'm doing another Alhaitham ask lol! Gender neutral reader, angst with no happy ending in the end. Basically really bad communication lands up having consequences. As much as I would like to do a part 2 of this, I feel like this is better just as itself. If anyone else feels like doing a part 2 of this, however, feel free to do so!

Another argument, another insult session between the both of you. Your insults were never hitting deep with Alhaitham, you didn't use his weaknesses against him.

However, Alhaitham was particularly mean this time. He insulted the fact you never got a vision, he insulted the fact you got too emotional at times, and he implied that he could aim a lot higher than you. You begin to cry, and Alhaitham lands the final blow before you run out crying.

"You are an embarrassment. Even Kaveh is more logical than you." Alhaitham shrugs, you running out and slamming the door behind you.

Deciding you needed some time to process those words, and to slowly get over the statement so you could both have a logical conversation that wasn't laced with insults. When you caught wind of a commission regarding a domain in Liyue, right before you enter Sumeru, you take it. You knew the traveler had so much on their plate, and recently they were enjoying the Mondstadt Festival, and you figured it was the least you could do for all they have done to help so many people.

The domain was very strange. Every turn you made, you heard a male voice telling you to leave while you still could. At the time, you believed this person was in a dangerous situation based on how they were out of breath when screaming out for you to leave. Pushing forward, you eventually come across a short man, clearly almost passed out completely.

"Why are you here, mortal?" He gruffs out. "My karmic debt has caught up to me, it will kill you." He chokes out, spluttering as he looks around. As he goes to grab his weapon, however, you take it instead.

The fight was difficult, but eventually the onslaught of enemies stopped completely. An opening in the domain seemed to be almost ready, but it was clear you needed to investigate another part of the domain. Ignoring Xiao's warnings, you rush in.

'Mortal, you must sacrifice something near and dear to you.'

"Huh?" You ask, looking around to see nothing but void surrounding you. "Who said that?"

'Oh, you poor thing. I can tell you are so...deeply hurt by your lovers harsh, harsh words.' The disembodied voice coos, you hearing a very muffled voice calling out for you. 'Let me take away the suffering.'

"What are you talking about?" You tilt your head, failing to comprehend how you forgetting someone special to you would help this individual.

'Dear, I am here to comfort you'. The voice explains. 'I can help you. I feed off of your negative energy, and this hurt from an argument is perfect.'

"Why did you say I have to sacrifice something near and dear to me?" You ask, hearing Xiao screaming for you to stop responding and wait for him.

'Just hurry up and say yes, and I can make you forget everything bad that lover of yours has said.' The voice tuts, clearly losing patience. You feel your health getting worse by the second, and in a moment of desperation you follow the rules. Saying yes, you feel yourself passing out as Xiao finally gets through the void.

"Well, I am the bearer of good news." Doctor Baizhu hums. "You are physically fit."

"What about the effects of the karmic debt?" Xiao asks, crossing his arms. "I need to know the magnitude of these memories being stolen."

"I'm afraid I can't say...It doesn't seem to have affected them, but neither you nor I know what they have agreed to forget." Baizhu hums.

"I should have forced them out when I sensed them. No mortal should be near me in a domain like that." Xiao huffs, looking down at his mask. "This all happened because 'someone' was worried about my lack of presence."

"So I can go home? I kind of need to get my commission sorted out, and I have some house chores I should get around to." You ask, Baizhu nodding.

As he watches your retreating form, he senses Xiao is feeling incredibly guilty for you coming along.

"Don't blame yourself for this. In fact, you got them out of that domain before the karmic debt got to them physically." Baizhu states, Xiao simply teleporting away.

"_, my dear." Alhaitham lets out a sigh of relief, thoroughly confusing you. "I have been worried sick about you leaving after the argument. It's been days! I wanted to apologise, tho-"

"...I'm sorry, sir." You start, just looking at him. "But I don't know you."

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #angst #xiao #baizhu

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kneelingshadowsalome · 8 months

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You König work is amazing! Idk why but with that “y/n cant watch something with sweaty shirtless men!” It made me think what would König do if Engel was a gamer and had a guy that liked to game with her

Lol this turned out long and superduper self-indulgent for no good reason

CW: Jealousy, possessive behavior, mild smut

This guy friend of yours has the best equipment and has the best games, so you usually go to his place to play and have a few laughs. You somehow thought things would remain pretty much the same after you met König (silly you) because you've told him about this friend and how much fun you've had over the years. He's just a friend, there's nothing suspicious going on, so why couldn't you continue seeing him?

Interestingly enough, the words we're just friends are the exact wrong ones. "Friend" or no, you're not going to some other man's gaming lair alone.

He tags along next time you see this guy, and it's a bit awkward, because you know König doesn't play. He greets your friend coldly, then goes to "relax" on the sofa with a stiff upper back and pure ice in his stare. You shrug and start playing with your friend, and soon enough the feeling that there is a whole glacier behind your back recedes. You've missed playing with your friend so much!

Meanwhile on glacier König, things are only getting icier. If looks could kill, this other man would be dead already. König won't play, not even when your friend offers him the controller and you try to invite him to at least try. He says he likes to watch.

And boy, does he watch.

He watches you like a hawk, the way you immerse yourself in the game, the way you come so, so alive. The way your cheeks glow and your eyes sparkle, the way you laugh or frown or bite your lip with excitement.

The silence extends all the way back home, and then out of nowhere König starts to complain that the war game you played was poorly made.

"That game was highly inaccurate. The guns for example. M16 wasn't introduced to the field until–"

"König," you set a hand on his chest, "calm down. It's just a game."

He lifts his chin and looks at you, down, down, down, like he always does when he thinks he knows better – and he always knows better. But when you go to bed, he gets unusually touchy and cuddly. You're not getting any sleep before he has given you a hot, sweaty fingering session followed by an exceptionally needy cuddlefuck. You can't help but think whether the shameless display of fingering skills was to show off how good he is with his hands... And how he doesn't need a PS controller to prove it.

He suggests, uneasily, that he could buy you a big tv and five different consoles and all the games you want. You have to explain to him that it's not about the games per se, it's about the company. If you had a gift that allowed you to see under that mask, you would see how his nostrils flare at your innocent declaration.

Next time at your friend's house, you play Mario Kart. It's just what the doctor ordered because everytime you play that game you go into a giggle high. It's just so fun and harmless and silly... Actually, it's the perfect antithesis of König. Even your friend starts to laugh because joy is contagious. The only one who’s not laughing is König, who sits behind you like a monolith or a supervising adult, his stare flashing between you two. (When have you ever giggled like that with him...? When have you ever laughed like you can't even stop?)

The truth is that König is going nuts. First you played a lousy war game (riddled with mistakes), as if the fact that you have a super soldier like König wasn't enough for you. You even sighed 'wow 'when there was an intro scene with lots of explosions and an adrenaline-filled jump from a crashing plane. As if he didn't do stuff like that every day... As if he didn't shoot a real gun and kill real people every day. You would say 'wow' a thousand times more enthusiastically if you saw him doing all that shit for real.

And then? You play what looks like a colorful, nonsensical child's game and laugh your heart out with tears in your eyes. You're cute when you're in your gaming mode, and he just wants to squish you, get rid of that dude, then come squish you again.

And you sort of know that something is wrong and perhaps you shouldn't be seeing this friend so often...

It's not just the fact that you and your friend both try your best to ignore the hound dog who insists on coming along every single time even though he never plays.

It's not the fact that your soldier boyfriend has a special talent of making everyone uncomfortable.

It's the fact that everytime you come home, König is all over you and nearly smothers you with kisses and his tall, demanding frame. You barely get out of your shoes before he gets all touchy, almost gropey.

Next thing you know, you're being put to bed, literally, as he grinds you into the mattress in a desperate fashion. Grunting and groaning high above you, the poorly disguised fury seems to seep from his skin as he gets all sweaty and needy with you. Your adoring doe-eyes, your thrilled gasps and dazzled silence only spur him on.

Usually, he's mouthy in bed, but the need to possess you has reached such heights that he can't even speak. He just towers over you like a furious god, arms caging you in while he makes love to you with pitched grunts. When you ask him if he's angry (in a slightly peepy voice, because the man is actually freaking you out a bit), he grunts a quick "Nein" through gritted teeth. That's how you know he's definitely, thoroughly pissed.

Deprived moans send him over the edge right after you, and you can barely catch your breath before he collapses on top of you, cock still pulsing inside you as he seeks out the sacred little place between your ear and neck, lips burning your skin as he snarls:

"I know you are teasing me, little one... And I'm warning you that it's not a good idea."

#answered #yandere könig #könig x you #jealous könig #possessive könig

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angelyuji · 8 months

Text

professor miguel o'hara headcanons :)

miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader

+ yandere headcanons!!!!

professor miguel o’hara would be so OFUAN:EOAFIDNWFBOWE”NJP sorry im just feral for him

professor o’hara would actually be the worst professor to get tbh like he’s a strict grader, he’s super anal about late turn-ins, all that jazz. like he’s got a shit ratemyprofessor rating… he’s the worst. he’s not the type to insult you or make you feel like shit for getting questions wrong or failing an exam HOWEVER he does say that if you fail an exam, just drop out cuz you’re not passing yeahhh he sucks lol

also he has a p.h.d in genetics and genomic sciences (totally didn’t just search up what the major is called and pasted it on here… definitely not) so he’s a huge stickler on being called doctor o’hara

however, when you mess up and say professor, he doesn’t seem to mind it all that much

professor o’hara who obviously has favorites (based on who participates more/does the best on exams)

Miguel would send students that come to him for help to students that do really well in the class (he does not care to reteach or help with essays) “you should’ve paid attention when i was explaining. im sure one of your classmates like (y/n) can help.”

motorcycle professor, office hours are always open for questions or concerns, he’s honestly chill just super strict and mean-looking

however no matter what, every single bitch has a crush on him… have you SEEEEEN him. yall know that scene in criminal minds when spencer reid is teaching a class and basically the entire class was auditing the class becuz he’s hot… yeah that except miguel o’hara is a lot meaner about chasing those people out.

yandere :0

:IBFP(I)IU*Y&^&TFRTCVGBHIK\

sorry

lemme set the scene, ur one of the smartest of your class, you’re his favorite student like ur pretty, smart, and kind to your classmate and honestly…. he was downright obsessed like mf knows ur entire class schedule, he knows ur address ur number ur email. e v e r y t h i n g

ur kindness to your classmates is gonna be ur downfall, someone (who is known to be a cheater) is gonna go to him asking for help on a project. miguel is gonna be like “lol im not helping u but yk who will? (y/n).” miguel knows that your classmate is gonna cheat, but that’s a part of the plan

they go up to you, ask to see ur project and when ur not looking, take pictures of ur research and everything. you won’t know a thing becuz ur a nice friend :)

you’ll just turn in ur stuff and chill. the next class after the due date, professor o’hara asks you to stay after class.

“(y/n), it looks like you and another classmate have almost exact project.” miguel turns his screen towards you, showing your project and your classmates

“what? dr. o’hara, i don’t know what’s going on, but i promise you, i didn’t cheat off of anyone.” you beg.

“i’m sure that we can get to the bottom of this, (y/n)…” miguel pretends to think for a second. “how about this, come to my office around 6. i think i’ll be done with classes for the day. we’ll have a chat.” he stands, rearranging his papers.

“of course. i’ll be there!” you thank him and rush out to meet your friends, holding back tears.

i mean, of course you’ll go to see your professor. you’ve been accused of plagiarism and that shit can get you expelled.

you knock on the door. “dr. o’hara?”

“come in.” you walk in, anxious to get the situation resolved. you see your professor sitting at his desk, but you don’t see your classmate.

“i thought the other person would here too…” you feel a weird sense of dread fill in your stomach.

“ms. (l/n), i don’t think we need them here for this discussion.” he motions for you to sit down at the chair. “plagiarism is a very serious offence.”

“professor, you can’t seriously believe that i copied off of them!” you’ve got the best grades in the class, you feel flabbergasted.

“ms. (l/n)!” he frowns.

you lower your head, ashamed, “i’m sorry, it’s just. they came up to me, asking for help…”

“i understand, (y/n), but do you have any physical proof of that?” you stay silent. “i can… find a way to help you, but… you’re gonna have to do something for me, (y/n).” miguel leans in and you feel that dread in your stomach worsen, but you have no other choice.

“of course, professor! anything!”

eDTRUTYGYH*(J)(_)_JIHUUGYFR^%&T*Y(UOIJL

he’s gonna take advantage of your situation. at first, it’ll be like secret dates, small (expensive) gifts at your door, then it moves up.

soon, he’s making you come to his home, making you stay overnight….

it was raining when you had went over and the rain was getting worse. his house was in the middle of a neighborhood in the woods, everything about this situation was grossing you out. “dr. o’hara, i don’t-” you, hesitantly, walk through the doors into his home.

“miguel. i’ve told you, (y/n). you should call me miguel when we’re alone.” he smiles at you and locks the door behind you.

“right… miguel, i don’t think that this is appropriate.” you look around his home. it was quaint, clean… almost like it wasn’t even lived in. you would’ve thought it was a random rental if it wasn’t for his diplomas framed on the wall.

“(y/n), do i need to remind you of our deal?” he looks at you, and for the first time since this situation started, you felt afraid. miguel disappears into the kitchen and you decide to step back closer to the front door, itching to run. “(y/n),” he pops his head out and smiles, “take a seat at the dining table.” you see fangs in his mouth and your fear grows.

dinner goes by uneventfully, but you feel uneasy as miguel chats it up with you. he had been too… nonchalant about the arrangement, but this was a new development. he wouldn’t ask you questions about yourself, but he somehow knew everything about you. it creeped you out. “if dinner is over, i should go home.” you stand, pushing back your chair.

he grabs your hand, “there’s no need to rush, (y/n)… unless,” he lets go and leans back in his chair, thinking. you freeze. “if you want to leave, i can always go to the board and tell them about your essay.” miguel shrugs and gets up.

“no! no… i’m sorry, doctor- sorry, miguel, i’m not leaving.” you sit back down.

miguel laughs, straightening, “you’re so cute, sweetheart. i’ll go get dessert.” he steps back into the kitchen. you grab your phone and text your roommate asking for help, but they don’t respond. miguel walks out with two plates of cheesecake. he continues to talk to you, asking about your classes for next semester. you gingerly answer his questions and eat, eager to finish and go home. you look behind miguel’s head and notice that the rain had gotten worse. if you didn’t leave now, you’d get stuck here.

“i should get going then.” you carefully place the fork down. “the rain is getting pretty bad.” miguel turns to look and you check your phone. still no response. miguel hums as the rain pelts the ground. he looks back at you.

“any minute now.” he doesn’t say anything else.

“ha, yeah. it’ll get worse any minute now.” you repeat and stand up. all of a sudden, your head spins. you stumble and grab your chair. immediately miguel is at your side, helping you steady. your head won’t stop spinning and you hear your words slurring, “fuck, i don’t feel good.” miguel picks you up with ease, holding you bridal-style. “put me down, please, miguel. i need to go home.” you feel yourself lose consciousness and lay your head against miguel’s chest, too tired and dizzy to fight.

“everything is okay, (y/n). all you need is me.” the last thing you feel as miguel whispers in your ear, is a kiss against your forehead.

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possibilistfanfiction · 4 months

Note

for surgeons au.,, perhaps some hurt/comfort :,)

[hbd @gohandinhand. sorry but tbf... u asked for this lol (also so many of you asked for 'what if bea gets hurt' bc we all share one collective grey's anatomy-ass braincell // also on ao3]

‘dr. silva is still in the tumor resection?’

it’s only, like, your fifth week being a doctor, so there are so many things you don’t know all the time; you add dr. villaumbrosia asking this question to the list. still, she’s kind of the scariest person you’ve ever met in your life — unflappable and a little mean to everyone but her patients and their families, talented and whip-smart beyond belief, willing to take on the hardest cases — and so you answer anyway with a nod. you only know this because zaire promised he would come find you just after he’d finished with dr. silva — to celebrate at the bar down the street and hopefully more than that too — but you don’t add that; you don’t think dr. villaumbrosia would appreciate it all that much.

‘okay,’ she says, more shaken than you’ve ever seen her.

‘is something… did something go wrong, or?’

‘with ava’s surgery, no, i don’t think so.’

ava is new; you’re not embarrassed to admit that you and basically your whole intern class has been keeping track of who’s with whom amongst the attendings, so you know they’re all either dating or friends or some kind of family. still, dr. villaumbrosia never uses first names at work.

‘there’s a trauma being flown in,’ she continues. ‘there was an avalanche, and dr. choi was skiing in the backcountry today. i don’t — i don’t know more details.’ she worries her hands for a moment. ‘she hasn’t answered her sat phone.’

‘oh,’ is the best you’ve got, disarmed by the obvious fear that lingers around every inch of her.

‘dr. silva can’t know, if she does come in. not until after he’s finished the hardest part of the procedure and can pass it off.’

not that you were going to be the one to randomly decide to go to dr. silva’s OR and say any of this, but you nod. ‘of course.’

‘i need you to go check on tai; she’s in daycare.’

‘uh, i don’t — i’ve never —‘

dr. villaumbrosia waves you off. ‘she’s cute. looks like choi, acts like silva.’

when you don’t respond immediately, dr. villaumbrosia just glares. ‘yeah, of course,’ you hurry to say.

‘and then i need you to go to the ER for the trauma. dr. masters already knows you’re coming; you’re going to see what’s going on and tell me and no one else. got it?’

‘yes, dr. villaumbrosia. will do.’

‘great.’

to be honest, you have no idea where the daycare even is, and this certainly isn’t what you went to a bazillion years of school for, but whatever. maybe this will get you on dr. villaumbrosia’s good side.

‘and dr. al-najjar?’

you nod.

‘i know this seems ridiculous. but dr. choi is — she’s my favorite person. it’s important.’

you understand in your own way: you facetime your little brother every day, no matter how tired you are, no matter how late or early it is for you. ‘i’ll tell you everything as soon as i can.’

‘good.’

tai is, apparently, a fourteen month old, very cute toddler, who really does look like dr. choi. when you explain, very briefly, to one of the daycare teacher that dr. villaumbrosia sent you to see how she’s doing, make sure she’s okay, she nods and shows you over to an area of the room with soft mats and some wooden blocks. tai smiles at you, all baby teeth and big cheeks, and says mostly nonsense but a few words — blocks, doctor, mama — and then promptly knocks over her block tower with definite glee.

you snap a nice, cute picture of tai smiling in her little giraffe hoodie and send it off to dr. villaumbrosia. you’ve never been a baby guy, and you’re certain she isn’t either, because there’s no way you could ever possibly choose her specialty if you were, but she loves the photo anyway — the first and only time she’ll ever respond to a text from you like that, you’re absolutely certain — and it makes you smile, just for a moment. when you wave goodbye to tai she laughs, and you hope, very concretely, that she goes home with both of her parents tonight, or soon, at least, that her family stays as full and happy and warm as it had been this morning.

you feel genuinely nervous and way too invested: you’ve met dr. choi in passing a handful of times, and she’d assisted on one of dr. villaumbrosia’s surgeries once that you’d gotten to hold a retractor for, but according to emma — the best gossip and also dr. choi’s favorite intern, allegedly — says that dr. choi is kind and quiet and a wonderful teacher, patient and skilled and efficient. you’d been looking forward to being on her service soon, honestly, and, even in the past few weeks, you’re starting to understand that the people here, that you spend so much time with, are starting to feel like family.

dr. masters nods at you, her braids already tucked away beneath a cap, trauma gown on. you’re on peds, so you don’t know if you’re really here to help with anything — dr. villaumbrosia wasn’t called down for any consults, still set for the routine bowel repair she’d been scheduled for this afternoon, so you’re fairly certain there weren’t any children coming in — but she gestures toward the gown and gloves anyway.

‘just in case we need more hands on deck,’ she says as way of explanation. ‘there’s four people, and we don’t really know the extent of their injuries.’

you nod — what else is there to say — and things are very, very still until dr. masters gets a page and then everything is moving — loudly, organized, seamless — and you’re in awe, for a moment, of dr. masters’ ER. you love trauma surgery and she’s, like, kind of the biggest badass in the country, and it’s pretty fucking cool to watch her very quickly get everyone exactly where they need to be in the amount of time it takes for her to walk to the elevator that leads up to the helipad.

the wind whips from the blades when the doors open, rainy and miserable, and your heart is caught in your throat when the door opens. you see dr. masters’ hands shake, although you’d never, ever mention it, locked behind her back in tight fists, until dr. choi’s face — a bruise along her jaw, a scrape that runs underneath her eye, all the way into her hair, the tip of her nose and the tips of her ears a painful red, probably from frostbite — comes into view.

dr. choi, strapped into a stretcher, covered in a blanket and hooked up to an IV, immediately starts talking, before the stretcher is even fully out of the helicopter. ‘the three coming out,’ she starts, ‘i dug them out as much as i could. i did an emergency thoracostomy on david, you need to push a ton of antibiotics. anna needs to go to the OR immediately for her pelvis, make sure cam —‘

‘—beatrice,’ dr. masters says, rushing to her side and, if you were to bet, wanting to sink to her knees in relief. ‘oh my god.’

‘i’m fine,’ dr. choi says, annoyed at being made to stay on the stretcher. ‘i properly deployed my avalanche airbag. but mary, listen —‘

dr. masters holds dr. choi’s face in her hands and then kisses the top of dr. choi’s head. it’s tender, and you wonder how long they’ve known each other to afford that level of intimacy, that level of care. ‘i got them, bea. i promise. we gotta take care of you too or ava will kill me.’

dr. choi relaxes, just minutely, but you can tell — maybe because you would trust dr. masters with your life or anyone else’s, maybe at the mention of dr. silva, maybe some combination of both — and she nods.

dr. masters rolls her eyes and kisses the top of dr. choi’s head once more. ‘stupid hero. let me go make all your hard work worthwhile.’

dr. choi smiles, definitely reassured now. ‘you better.’

you’re not surprised, exactly, that chief superion is waiting to take over dr. choi’s care, but you are a little surprised when dr. superion squeezes her shoulder gently and smiles, a little sad.

‘ava is still in surgery, so let’s get the worst of it taken care of before she’s done, yes?’

dr. choi nods, growing more exhausted by the minute. which is fair, you think, as she tells dr. superion — and you, because you’re stuck in this room until you have a real report for dr. villaumbrosia beyond the text you’d sent that just said Dr. Choi is talking and moving, no head or neck injuries — about how the avalanche airbag had worked, even if it was frightening; about how her transceiver, according to SAR, had helped them get there faster than they would have otherwise.

‘ava always teased me about how expensive the gear was, but look who’s laughing now.’

‘well, to be fair,’ dr. superion says, looking at dr. choi’s x-rays, ‘i don’t think either of you are laughing.’

‘oh, yikes,’ dr. choi says, looking at the films too. she’s on a fair amount of pain medicine at this point, but she’s right: there’s a few nasty fractures along the bones in her left wrist. but, other than those and a few cracked ribs and some mild frostbite on her nose, ears, and the tips of her fingers, it seems like it’s just cuts and bruises: nothing she won’t heal from, and far better off than the others who came in with her.

‘i, uh — sorry,’ you say, feeling like you’re interrupting, but they both just shake their heads, waving off your apology. ‘dr. villaumbrosia sent me to see if you’re okay, and i’m supposed to go talk to her once i know. which, i guess i know now.’ not your best work, and in front of the chief, but oh well.

dr. choi smiles fondly. ‘thank you for telling me. i’ll never let lilith forget it.’

dr. superion doesn’t smile, but it seems like she wants to. ‘go ahead, dr. al-najjar. you can tell her that we’re admitting dr. choi to ortho; dr. alvarez will operate tomorrow, once the swelling has gone down.’

‘and tell lilith i love her too.’

‘i — uh—‘

dr. superion laughs. ‘go, dr. al-najjar.’

you’ve just finished your report to dr. villaumbrosia — in the middle of a surgery, but it’s clear her shoulders relax immediately, continuing to operate smoothly — when dr. silva flings open the door of the OR.

‘hello ava,’ dr. villaumbrosia says, not even looking up from the stitch she’s putting in. ‘she’s okay.’

dr. silva, breathing so hard her mask is getting sucked into her mouth and nose, doubles over, her hands on her knees. ‘i gotta do more cardio, oh my god,’ he mumbles, then takes a deep breath and stands. ‘you’re sure?’

‘yes,’ dr. villaumbrosia, ‘i had dr. al-najjar make sure personally. he also checked on tai; she’s doing great.’

‘very cute,’ you say and then debate just quitting residency here altogether, but dr. silva smiles at you.

‘thanks man,’ she says. ‘sorry you missed this surgery.’

‘the bowel was perforated,’ dr. villaumbrosia says. ‘it was quite disgusting, to be honest.’

‘well then,’ dr. silva says, ‘hey, you’re welcome! you got to see my adorable kid and my sexy wife. who, as lovely as your company always is, lil, i’m gonna go see now.’

‘she deployed that avalanche airbag, dug three other people out, and did a field chest tube by the time SAR got there.’

‘hot.’

‘insane, actually,’ dr. villaumbrosia says. ‘but give her my love.’

two days later you’re back on shift — after drinks and truly, genuinely great sex with zaire that still ended up happening despite everything, god bless — and you swing by ortho before you go up to peds. you’re not friends with dr. choi or dr. silva, but you do want to see how things are going anyway. your mom always says it’s better to be kinder than necessary, and you’re starting to believe it.

they’re an adorable family, you think, tai showing dr. choi her lion stuffy and babbling excitedly, sitting on the hospital bed between her legs, turning every now and then toward dr. silva in a chair by her bedside. dr. choi, her arm in a brace and a sling, looks pretty good overall: her eyes seem clear, the bruises along her jaw are already starting to turn green and yellow, a great sign of healing, and the redness on her nose and ears has lessened considerably.

also, she’s sitting up and talking animatedly, clearly happy with her daughter and her wife there. from her chart — you looked it up in the system before you came, whatever — you’re pretty sure she’s going to get to go home today, which you suspect is what the small duffle bag by dr. silva’s feet is for.

‘all i’m saying,’ you hear from dr. silva, ’is that your nose could’ve fallen off.’

‘ava,’ dr. choi says, exasperated and laughing.

dr. silva sits back and pouts, exaggerating with crossed arms.

‘i will be more careful,’ dr. choi concedes, but it doesn’t feel much like a concession the way she smiles at tai and then runs a gentle hand over her wispy hair. emma — who is an incredible gossip but you’re starting to think she also just has a giant crush — had told you and zaire that dr. choi is, like, an experienced outdoors person with certifications in all kinds of different safety courses and activities; you know she and dr. villaumbrosia have done stints with MSF together too.

‘good,’ dr. silva says. ‘because lord knows i cannot raise tai by myself.’

dr. choi frowns, then offers her good hand to dr. silva, who scoots closer and takes it with a kiss to her scraped knuckles.

‘plus, while i would deal, obviously, you’d probably be less hot if your nose fell off.’

‘“probably”?’

dr. silva shrugs. ‘i love you.’

‘i love you too.’

‘would you still love me if my nose fell off?’

‘ava.’

‘good morning, dr. al-najjar,’ dr. choi says when you knock lightly on the open door of her office. it’s impeccably neat, a few pictures of dr. silva and tai on her desk. she’s wearing the brace on her wrist still but no sling; her bruises and frostbite have faded. in her scrubs and white coat and clogs, a fresh buzzcut and a cup of coffee in her good hand, she looks exactly the surgeon you’ve looked forward to working with.

‘good morning, dr. choi. welcome back.’

she smiles and closes her office door, starts leading you down the hall. ‘thank you. and, apologizes in advance that you won’t have any surgeries with me for the next two weeks until i’m officially cleared.’ she rolls her eyes.

‘that’s okay,’ you say. ‘more sleep, honestly.’

‘true. and,’ she says, opening a door to the most incredible, brand new lab you’ve ever seen, ‘i can promise that the research we’ll get to work on will be worth it.’

‘i always thought i would go into trauma,’ you tell her, ‘but i think i just fell in love.’

she grins. ‘the heart wants what it wants.’

you pause a moment but then you can’t help yourself: you laugh.

‘in that case,’ she says, ‘let me show you around, and let’s get to work.’

#wn #wn fic #avatrice #avatrice fic #surgeons au #this is not nearly as angsty as it could've been! ur welcome!#butch bea 🥺🫡#am i making up interns as i go?? why not i love to spiral! lmfao #also the real hardest part of this was spelling lilith's fucking long ass last name jesus christ

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mikuni14 · 4 months

Text

The Sign - Ep 7

First of all, as always, I will officially ignore all the cop stuff, the doctor discussing his patient's condition and giving his data without a court order, how a person with a mental disorder is treated, and the meme quotes from Paulo Coelho 🙃 (It's interesting that the Dr. Chewconcretemotherfucker treated both art Art and Tharn 🤔)

It never ceases to amaze me how much Phaya has NO control over his face and his behavior in Dr. ChUNT's presence lmao. And how all Tharn gives him is basic politeness, and how it must be apparent to anyone interested (including Dr. Changinghisnameisapublicservice) that Tharn, his heart, and his body belong to someone else. So what exactly is he trying to achieve? The only thing left for him is to actually end this relationship in a drastic way… "So don't worry, I will see him to his bed" I bet your ass that you will Phaya! 😆 I'm 100% sure the only thing your bird brain registered is "I" and "Tharn" and "bed" 👍

Somehow, in this episode, Tharn was able to de-escalate the situation between Phaya and Dr. Chanceyougettharniszeroyoucunt (with just one sentence), and he was also able to confess why he was the way he was (it took him one sentence as well). This is what I wanted in last episode, but what we only got now to fit the plot… *sigh*

I really liked the scene of Phaya trying to explain himself to Tharn: he's freaking out, not controlling his emotions, grabbing Tharn's hands.. and those broken sentences, grimaces on his face, visible nervousness and distress. And how Tharn is worried about what he sees (that deep crease between his eyebrows), trying to hide his worry, comforting him. Phaya's line: "Just tell me you forgive me and all these symptoms would probably go away" floored me. That's some old romance novel shit, it gets me every time! 😍

Phaya and Tharn's conversation in the archive was great, making Phaya's position on being in a relationship clear. Tharn's reaction to what Phaya says and when he asks what would he do? Really nice, as Tharn shows mostly with his eyes how much it all affects him..

I love Phaya and how persistent he is, how he doesn't give up, how he treats all obstacles to his happy relationship with Tharn as something that simply needs to be overcome and that's it 😄 That's why he follows him like a dog, uses every opportunity to be with him and creates his own opportunities. Like inviting Tharn to his nest house to disarm him with his family, food and cat and ultimately WIN him. Which of course works! Who would have guessed, Phaya actually has some game after all lmao

The scene at Phaya's house was so sweet! Tharn is so loving and gentle with the cat, immediately noticing Namami, unconsciously petting him just beacuse he is within his arm reach, which is what cat people do without thinking. I love how everyone just passed the cat between them lol

I liked Tharn having fun, being relaxed, the way Phaya shows him around his nest, the way he talks to him about himself. Tharn staring at the eagle painting…

Ohhh, and we have a perfect confession. As it should be, because Phaya is so serious when it comes to Tharn: it was long, honest, romantic without exaggeration or cringe. It's nice that Tharn didn't interrupt him and made an emotional confession himself. I'm not surprised that Tharn gave in because everything had been building up to this point. The way he saw Phaya freaking out, the way Phaya kept pushing, the whole "love" atmosphere of their current case certainly made him think too. Tharn himself tells Phaya not to press him, suggesting that he doesn't have the strength to resist, because as Tongthai even said earlier, you can't "fall out of love." You can't just shut down your feelings and desires. And Tharn FEELS it and oh god how much he wants it. And what I think convinced him was that Phaya didn't dismiss his worries with the traditional "don't worry" or "everything will be fine" or worse, "you're exaggerating, it's just a delusion." No, Phaya took his fears upon himself, saying that HE would try not to leave THARN, taking the burden of keeping Phaya alive off Tharn's shoulders. "I'll do whatever it takes so that you won't be sad or lose me", because his life is his responsibility, not Tharn's. What Phaya did was notice Tharn's worry, recognize it, take it upon himself, and let Tharn relax. That's why I'm not surprised that Tharn allowed himself a moment of happiness, to reach for what he wants. Perhaps it's a moment of weakness that he will regret later, but come on, Tharn is not made of steel! He's just a cute lil' guy and he's in love and horny! 😭 Oh, but this confession had its beautiful moments: "I really want to have you by my side in every day of my life" "This is the best I can do, please don't force me" "I promise not to leave you"

Love scene: YES. I love Phaya when, before they started, he takes a deep breath, as if he's finally at peace, because this is it, he FINALLY has everything he wants, everything is right with the world. And then he just go for it. I fucking love predatory, hungry Phaya. I love the pliant Tharn, how he's almost always with his back to Phaya in an act of sweet submission and ultimate trust. Phaya had moments as if he couldn't believe that they were together and when he realized that yes, this was really happening, he became even more passionate, as if he couldn't get enough of Tharn. It was incredibly hot. There was a lot of heavy breathing, pulling on skin, tight embraces, intense caresses, hungry looks. And am I seeing things or there was a scene of Tharn nodding his consent and implication that Phaya was preparing him? 👀 Anyway, the scene was an intoxicating mix of Phaya and Tharn's fantasies: it was pretty, pink, emotional and hot.

When I finally see them together, I'm as happy as Phaya with a naked, tattooed, wet Tharn in the shower 😄💖🥳 everything is right with the world.

#the sign the series #bl drama #thai bl

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heartofwritiing · 2 years

Text

The Doctor Rambles

paring: 10th!doctor x fem!reader

summary: the doctor gose on one of his many rambles but you’re so exhausted from your recent adventure.

a/n: so i am yet again on a doctor who fixation for the 100th time in my life lol i got this idea the other night and i really wanted to write it hope you guys enjoy!

warning(s): just fluff, short and unedited!

Your legs felt like jelly as you walked down the busy London street in your combat boots. What you hoped would be a relaxing day turned into another crazy adventure. You had just spent the day running around London following the doctor and his little gizmo that was tracking “void stuff” the doctor never really explained what that was but you went along with it as always. Just nodding and smiling whenever the doctor went on his many, many tangents.

You were jogging along the sidewalk trying to keep up with the doctor and his long legs when he stopped at a crosswalk, his coat clung around his shoulders but the bottom swished with every movement. He looked down at the device and it had stopped making noise as you came up from behind him placing your hand on his shoulder while you caught your breath.

He poked his tongue out in thought and brought his other hand up to fiddle with the device in the other.

“Okay, I need a minute before we start running again.” you pant. The Doctor huffed and banged his hand on the side of the gizmo before it finally went silent from the whirring noise it made. “No need, I've lost the trail.”

You sighed in relief. At least you didn’t have to run anymore.

“Oh well back to the Tardis!” the Doctor shrugged and began to walk off in the other direction.

You gaped at him but followed. “Doctor!" you shout.

"That's it? after all that?!"

He turns back to you frowning.

"No, something is wrong with the gizmo, I have to go back to the tardis to fix it," he says.

You groan.

"the Tardis is parked all the way on the other side of the city!” He shoved his hands in his pockets and took out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the device trying to see the problem and why it had lost the trail. He turned back to you.

“Well I suppose we could take the bus back, come on.” he motions for you.

You both make it to a bus stop at the end of the road and plop yourselves down on the bench. You cross your arms over your chest to keep yourself warm, even though you were wearing a jacket the air was very chilly at night. The Doctor was still messing with his gizmo and you just sat there looking up at the sky, occasionally a car would pass you by on the road but other than that the street was pretty much empty. The only sounds were the wind brushing by your ears and the buzzing of the sonic to your left.

When the red double decker bus pulls up the doctor motioned you to step in first, while he showed the driver the psychic paper. You both found seats and plopped down beside each other again.

The bus began moving and your eyes felt heavy with exhaustion. The Doctor began rambling about the machine he was still messing with.

You yawned, but not because you thought what the doctor was saying was boring but because you were so tired from all the running. You rested your head on the doctors shoulder but he was too busy talking to notice you were begging to doose off to the sound of his voice.

"And I just can't understand what happened to-" The Doctor stops his speech when he looks over to you and realizes you've fallen asleep on his shoulder, your soft snores and chest falling slowly indicating this. He smiled amusingly, he hadn't realized he had tried you out from running around London all day. and went back to work fiddling with his contraption. He would tell you about his rambling brain latter when you were awake.

tags: @redheadspark @a-lumos-in-the-nox @steve-harringtons-slut

@magnificentzombiebasement

#10th!doctor x reader #10th!doctor #doctor who #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagine #fanfiction #x reader #the doctor x reader #the doctor x fem!reader #10th!doctor x fem!reader #david tennet #david tennant x reader #doctor who fanfiction #fluff #short fic

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ohbo-ohno · 4 months

Note

so to preface this, I have absolutely no interest in asylum/doctor AUs with Ghoap and/or Ghoap X Reader because my trauma stems from a psych ward. But, I do have some potential tidbits of knowledge you could use to write such a thing for anyone interested!

-the food at the psych ward I was in was uniquely terrible, so much so that their main complaint on Google Reviews was about patients getting food poisoning. This could be leveraged by Ghost to spike Johnny and/or Reader’s food with something, hiding the effects behind the usual ‘yeah the food sucks, just grit your teeth’ the other patients give.

-the main memory I have of the ward I was in was a therapy circle I did with a bunch of other patients. After explaining why I was placed there, all of them told me it was my own fault. I don’t think I need to spell out the delicious gaslighting potential this has for Johnny or a Reader. Maybe both of them are patients but Johnny is in cahoots with Ghost, and the two of them are working together to coax Reader into doing what they want?

-The inpatient people were kept on a separate floor. The fifth floor iirc. We never saw them, but one of my friends at the time spent over a month in inpatient and had absolutely nightmarish stories about it. Being locked down there, potentially including things like straitjackets or padded cells, would be a great way to torment and break a Reader or even Johnny.

-I was 12 going on 13 when I was sent to the ward, and they put me in a group of people at least twice my age. These individuals were actually dangerous to themselves and others. One good way to keep a Reader nice and dependent on Johnny and Ghost for protection would be doing the same, putting her in a group where she feels unsafe and alienated. Bonus points if one of said group tries to hurt her and Ghoap get to swoop in and save the day.

That’s pretty much all I had to say, thinking about the event too much gives me a migraine lol. Just wanted to offer up some writing fodder for anyone who wants it! Consider me tossing bits of bread and corn off the dock for the guppies of the lake to feast upon at their leisure

Oh my god you are a fucking Saint

#a good friend of mine was locked up in a psych ward for a bit once #and GOD the stories she has… those places are fucking terrifying #kudos to you for surviving and getting better anon #wishing you all the best in your recovery #asks and answers

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yellowbluemoonshine · 2 months

Note

Hi,

I see you finished Monster and are quite versed in Johan. Can you help me understand the depth of his character better? I feel like many people miss the point of it. Also I'd like to know why you like him so much.

Oh, there is so much to say about him but i will try to make it short as possible.

Lets Talk About Johan;

First of all, i heard his character as some 'evil' mastermind so i wasnt really interested in his character until i experience the story by myself. I wondered why this series is popular so i decided to give a chance. I tought Johan was like Afo (from Bnha) but he turn out to be a lot like Shigaraki lol.

What makes a character depth is if they are not one-dimensional, that there is a more than how they seem from surface. And Johan fits well since he is mysterious character who is seen as angel, monster, devil, basically anything but human but they end up failing to understand him because if he was so simple, police would've catch him a long time ago.

At the start of series, he seems like your usual dangerous serial killer which fits the psychological thriller theme of story. And one of the best thing in series is his connection with Tenma. A doctor saves his life and this dangerous killer starts to view him as parent figure. A killer who see no worth in life and the doctor who thinks every life is equal, especially saving Johan is the reason he starts to to be able to live his life as a real doctor. Only to learn the child whom he saved turn out to be serial killer.

Tenma feels responsible for this and goes to journey to kill Johan. During this journey, we aldo discover some hints of what made Johan the way he is. The irony is we get the hints and a lot of characters perspective of him, everyone except Johan.

Is his messages about 'the monster inside of him' serious or not? Tenma assumes Johan is enjoying this at first, then he assumes Johan has multiple personality disorder. And later when he talked with other doctor, he assumes Johan is just playing with him because thats what most serial killers do with police. This is interesting because all of those end up being wrong. Johan doesnt enjoy from killing people. Johan doesnt have DID. Johan didnt write those messages to play with them. We know this because we later learn that he is unconciously imitate the fairytale stories he read as child.

Meanwhile, he has fanclub. A lot of murderers admire Johan because they view him as destruction Buddha. Just like others, he is seen as monster but why though? Its not like he is the only killer in the world. And personally, a lot of characters are more 'evil' than him so the thing about Johan is; he treats human life as nothing. Not just other people but also himself. Thats what makes him so scary to everyone. He doesnt even do it out of joy, money, statue. He looks like the devil in human form. He spreads misery to world. (Thats why he burns library when they said "its humanity's treasure" LoL.)

To people, that is scary. When they look at Johan, his eyes, the see someone who has no identity (nameless world). They see someone who treats life like as a game. Which explains why many people are afraid of him.

Some also want to use him, such as they want him to make second Hitler and he is like 'Nope'.

I think the main reason i love Johan is that he is like a magician. He can create a beautifull illusion. He is someone who can touch people's hearths because how well he understands them. Which is why he is seen as angel when people dont know he kills people.

This is also why he can use other killers for himself. He can see their vulnerabilities. Because even a killer is still human and they might need acceptance, to be understood by someone. Johan can give it to them. And they wish they were like Johan because they think everything would be a lot easier for them to kill others, like some kind of edgy teens. They fail to understand the person they want to be is extremely miserable.

On other hand, Johan can use his skills with curing people. Such as him waking Suk's mother, he made her remember her son again. Though he does things with ulterior motives, same skills can be used for good things. He can make people happy or miserable by little things. With a little magic or just skill.

And even though he is villain, he has very relaxing voice. He is very elegant. He listens other people. This fits perfectly well with his manipulative character.

We also never know when he is sincere or not because when you think he doesnt he actually seem to care, such as when he cried for Karl. Apperantly, tears were real. He is always in his world, its so funny when you think about he is some kind of mastermind.

Also his interaction with kids is so interesting. I think he geniuely enjoys being around them. Otherwise, why would he bother to spend time with them, why would he know so much about child's rights, why would he look for picture book for a friend? This is the same guy who encourage kids to rooftop game (and the scene where he was projecting on Milos) which is messed up. It gives me chills. His nihisilism, him viewing life as game end up resulting him expressing love as twisted.

----

Later, everything changes when Johan finds certain book in library. Basically, Johan's character doesnt necessarely stay same during the series. He changes his motives from unconciously imitating nameless monster stories to find actual monster who ruined his life. Even though he does messed up things, everything about his character makes sense with that scene. Johan geniuely believed that he is nameless monster. Johan geniuely believed that he doesnt exist.

Everything about him makes sense because it explains why he doesnt think death as much of it. Because if someone doesnt exist, they cant be killed. If someone doesnt exist, they cant be responsible for killings. He is detached from reality. Its not that he didnt feel. Its that he doesnt view it as real the way other people does. Because Johan isnt there. This is the tragedy of Johan's story. He doesnt have name. He doesnt have identity. He feels as he doesnt exist.

The famous 'monster' tape everyone after is about a child unable to see the difference between fairytale story and reality. 'My name is Johan. My name is Thomas. My name is Hans. My name is Otto.' He is them but he is neither of them. Johan views Anna as his half, as Anna is the real one and he is fake copy. He killed people as child, not because he is evil but because he geniuely thought that monster is coming after them. He cant even separate his own memories from Anna's. He takes all bad memories both to protect Anna and other reason is to become someone. He wanted to have identity, he wanted to live so bad but he didnt have on his own so he took it from others, just like the nameless monster.

This is also why Johan is also affected by Tenma's saving him. He probably wondered Tenma wouldnt save him, if he knew he was monster. He was kinda right because Tenma regretted his decision but he was wrong because Tenma couldnt shoot him and he saved him the second time. He showed him that he has right to live, he has right to exist, and that he has a name so he is not monster. This is why Johan can open up his worst insecurities. And they really give father-son energy and i think thats cute. I am glad that even after years Tenma visists him at hospital.

And we can guess what happened at the end thanks to Grimmer (one of the characters who deserves better), 'The monster become human at the end'. and Lunge said that if he were not a human being, he would not leave a trace, only humans leave a trace. For the first time we see Johan leave his mark. So Johan is no longer a monster, just a human. Also, his real name doesnt matter, he is Johan to us/all.

I love the messages of story. There is a monster inside all of us, but we can contain/heal it and after all, we are all human, our lives are equally valuable and stealing a person's name is the biggest crime, so having a name is very important. Story still has certain writing issues but generally, it is good story. Johan is well written character because his story is such a journey. We cant even really appreaciate the story without fully understand Johan. Every scene he is in meaningfull. And personally, i think his story is very empathic because of how tragic he is. Also sometimes he looks so funny and weird which makes him entertaining. He is such a good character.

Though you are right, anon. Many people still misinterpret the story, especially his character but anyway, there are still people who makes great analysis about him. Such as this analysis made by @cyanogoth.

Its ironic that most/some main villains have the most interesting and sempathic backstories, even though they are supposed to be 'big evil' or something but in reality, they are not really.

Anyway, he is fun to think about, i love him, lol.

#anon ask #johan liebert #tenma kenzo #tragic villain #naoki urasawa's monster meta #monster meta #monster #monster analysis #character study #character analysis #monster naoki urasawa #naoki urasawa #naoki urasawa's monster

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renecdote · 1 year

Note

ren please my love will u write me "wiping their tears when they cry" for buddie mwah

Also for @abcdefuk-off who requested the same prompt. This got so much longer than planned lol but enjoy the Buck angst <3

[Read on AO3]

Those first few days after waking up, and after leaving the hospital, everything hurts. Buck gets used to a baseline of pain: headaches, muscle aches, healing burns on his hands, fractured ribs, bruised lungs, something vague and unrelenting that coils tight in his stomach. It all ebbs and flows, a tide teetering between low and high, easy enough to ignore sometimes, but never fully gone.

It gets better, as days blur into weeks. One and then two and then three, and after four he’s sitting in Dr Salazar’s office and she’s saying, “You can go back to work as early as next week.”

Buck doesn’t know how to explain the flash of panic that seizes him. The way he wishes she could just tell him that something is wrong, that there is some physical explanation for the way he feels. But all his other doctors say the same thing: there’s nothing wrong with him. His lungs have healed enough for him to go back to work. His hands aren’t even going to scar. There are no blood clots in his leg, no reason it should be hurting at all, except for how it will probably always hurt sometimes.

“But it’s worse,” Buck tries. “It hurts more, and more often, doesn’t that—shouldn’t it mean something is wrong?”

“You’ve been through a trauma,” is all the doctor will say, shrugging behind ultrasound and CT results that all say the same thing: he’s fine.

So why doesn’t Buck feel fine?

Why can’t he just feel fine?

****

He gets through the first shift fine. He’s exhausted at the end of it, a headache knocking behind his temples, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He lets Eddie talk him into going home with him, manages to smile through breakfast with Christopher before crashing hard on the couch, and when he wakes up a few hours later, he’s fine.

The second shift, he doesn’t go home with Eddie. Doesn’t leave the station with a headache, either, which is nice, but he’s left with something restless and itching beneath his skin that makes him want to run until he has forgotten how to breathe.

He goes home instead. Deep cleans his apartment. Heats up frozen lasagne for lunch and eats sitting on the balcony, squinting at the grey edge of the sky and wondering if it’s going to rain.

Come over for dinner? 🥺 Chimney texts around four p.m., and Buck spends several minutes frowning at the message before he sends back a question mark. Chimney sends back a block of the same emoji in response and refuses to elaborate.

Fine, Buck replies. But just for the record I’m sick of eating pot roast.

He’s half expecting it anyway; Maddie isn’t a bad cook, but her repertoire is a bit limited, and Chimney’s even more so. When he arrives at six-thirty on the dot, he’s pleasantly surprised, and then a little suspicious, to find them setting out containers of Thai from one of Buck’s favourite takeout places.

“This isn’t another intervention, is it?” he asks, and he tries to make it sound like a joke, but he’s pretty sure he doesn’t succeed.

“Should it be?” Maddie asks, eyebrows raised.

“No,” Buck answers, matching her raised eyebrows with his own narrowed eyes. “I thought we agreed you couldn’t fix me.”

Chimney fumbles a grease-stained paper bag and two spring rolls make a bid for freedom, rolling across the counter. He snatches them quickly, muttering hot hot hot under his breath as he drops them onto a plate. He doesn’t say, “ah, so there is something that needs fixing,” but he may as well have. Buck steals a spring roll and bites down on it hard, chewing and swallowing even as his eyes water at the burn of too-hot pastry and filling.

Maddie rolls her eyes. “Sometimes dinner is just dinner, Evan. Why don’t you help Chimney set the table? I’m going to get Jee washed up to eat.”

Just dinner would be sitting in his apartment alone with whatever leftovers he dug out of the freezer, but Buck doesn’t argue. He takes the handful of cutlery Chimney offers him and sets it out on the table, Maddie and Chimney side-by-side, Buck opposite them both, plastic cutlery arranged carefully on Jee’s high chair at the head of the table. It’s hard to feel anything but warm inside when handling toddler cutlery, which was probably Maddie’s goal all along.

It spreads through him while they eat: warmth soaking into aching muscles, loosening the tension in his spine, helping him breathe a little bit easier. They don’t ask him if he’s okay and at some point he stops expecting them to. It’s like the moment after a jump scare in a movie, when all the tension that has been building snaps, the door pushed open to reveal a cat or a squawking bird where you expected to find a killer, adrenaline draining away to leave you loose and giggly. Buck stretches out his legs under the table and he can almost trick himself into believing that the twinge of pain is just in his head.

After dinner is over—plates and cutlery packed into the dishwasher, leftover Thai in the fridge—he helps Maddie give Jee a bath and put her to bed. It’s good. Normal. From the moment the tap turns on until Jee’s bedroom light is turned off, he feels like he can breathe. Like he might be okay.

Which. That was probably Maddie’s goal all along.

“You can stay,” Chimney offers when they’re back out in the kitchen. “The guest room has a proper bed and everything now.”

Buck smiles, appreciating the offer. “Nah, I should get home. Thanks though. For dinner and…”

A gesture, vague and all-encompassing. Chimney shrugs it away.

“Anytime,” he says, and Buck knows he means it. He could show up here at three in the morning and he wouldn’t be turned away. “See you at work tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. “See you at work.”

Maddie follows him to the door and hugs him tightly before he steps outside.

“Drive safe,” she says against his shoulder, words cast like a spell. “Text me when you get home.”

It’s the kind of thing she has said to Buck all his life. He used to roll his eyes good naturedly, grumble through a yeah, okay , and he’d still speed through yellow lights but he’d always feel a little more guilty about it with Maddie’s words in the back of his mind.

Tonight he just squeezes her again and promises, “I will.”

He slows down for every yellow light on the way home.

****

It’s not so bad at first: a dull ache, deep enough in his leg that he can almost ignore it. He’s getting pretty good at that, with the way it feels like the pain is always there these days, lurking, waiting to pounce. Buck avoids looking at it head-on for as long as he can, like it’s a monster in the dark that he can keep away by pulling a blanket over his head.

So it doesn’t sneak up on him, really, but it still takes his breath away when the pain corkscrews through his leg, suddenly sharp and biting. Buck stumbles, catching himself on the engine, choking back a curse that becomes a strangled wheeze. His first thought— fuck, ow ow ow —is followed quickly by a second: thank god everyone else is already in the engine .

“Buck?” Bobby calls, head sticking out through the front window. “You coming?”

Buck gives him a thumbs up, words trapped behind tightly clenched teeth. Climbing into the engine is hell, his leg pulsing with every step up, and he curls his hands into fists to hide the way they’re shaking after this seatbelt has been clipped into place. It was a long call, the kind that leaves everyone tired and not in the mood to talk, and Buck is absurdly grateful for it because it means nobody is paying too much attention to him. Nobody sees the wince he can’t hide when the truck jolts over a pothole, or the way he has to brace himself before jumping out when they’re back at the station.

There’s a bottle of Tylenol that lives in his work bag and he goes straight for it after he gets his turnout gear off. Everyone else has already drifted towards the bunks, but Buck tries not to limp as he walks up the stairs anyway. It feels too much like giving in. Like letting his leg and that bomber kid and the whole fucking universe win.

He tries to pace, tries to shake the cramp out by moving, but every step is like a knife through his ankle, his knee, shooting up through his hip to grip his chest in a vice as well. Buck makes it three limping circuits around the loft before he gives up and collapses on the couch. He folds over, head against his right knee, left leg stretched out while he digs his fingers into the long-healed muscles and wishes the pain would go away.

A stress headache is setting in now too, the kind that feels like his head is in a vice, the pain squeezing and squeezing and squeezing. Buck takes a shaky breath, then another, then another, trying to figure out whether he feels sick, or if it’s just the same coiling tension in his stomach that he’s been dealing with for weeks.

“Hey.”

He flinches, startled, and Eddie moves closer with a frown.

“Buck? You okay?” he asks, sounding like he’s already halfway convinced that he answer is no . Which it is, but.

Buck swallows. “Yeah, just—my leg. ‘M okay.”

Eddie hums, an I’ll be the judge of that kind of sound, and he perches on the edge of the coffee table, so close that their legs have no choice but to touch. “Can I…?”

There’s a half-hysterical thought in the back of Buck’s head that his leg will fall apart if he lets it go. The pain will tear through flesh and bones and leave nothing but broken, jagged pieces behind. Blood and sinew and useless muscle hanging off splintered pieces of bone. The thought of it makes him sick and he has to swallow hard against the nausea before he can make his fingers loosen their hold. It gets him a smile, quick and gentle, like Eddie knows the mental battle it took.

“Okay,” he says, easy and soft. “Do you want to lie down?”

Buck shakes his head. Even if he’s lying on his back, even if it’s the couch in the station instead of the rough asphalt of the street, his edges are too frayed right now for it to feel like anything other than being back there under the truck. He stretches his leg out in front of him instead, hands curled into tight fists while Eddie does his exam, quick but thorough.

“I don’t see anything concerning,” he judges, and Buck shouldn’t mourn the touch of his hands but he does. “No redness or swelling… is it just the pain?”

“Yeah,” Buck manages, too shaky. He doesn’t need to explain because Eddie knows more than most what it’s like when an injury heals but doesn’t ever fully let you go.

“Alright.” Hand on his knee for a second, two seconds, warmth lingering even after it’s gone. “Heat or ice?”

Buck shakes his head because—he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if anything will help.

“Okay,” Eddie takes his non-answer in stride, “we’ll try heat first, then switch if it isn’t working.”

It doesn’t take long to grab a couple of heating pads from the first aid cupboard, nor to pull the coffee table a bit closer so Buck can put his feet up on it without having to stretch. Hen would smack him if she saw him doing it, but he’s pretty sure Eddie would defend him. His only other option is stretching out on the couch and—no. Not tonight.

“Here, drink this,” holding out a glass until Buck takes it. “It’ll help.”

It’s only half full, which is good because Buck’s hands shake when he holds it. He still feels vaguely sick, but he chokes down a few sips anyway, clinging to the way Eddie smiles at him when he does.

“Better?” he checks, adjusting one of the heating pads that had started to slip off Buck’s knee.

Buck wants to say yes. He wants to say yeah, all good now, thanks for your help but you don’t need to stay . He wants to rewind time and never get in the front seat of the truck. He wants to rewind time and wait just a few minutes before climbing up that ladder so the lightning doesn’t hit him. He wants and wants and wants. He’s spent his whole life wanting—his parents to love him, somewhere to belong, to be useful and good and happy —and even now that he has so much, he still fucking wants.

Buck bites his lip through the sting of frustrated tears, determined not to cry.

“It’s been, um, worse. Lately. Since the lightning strike.”

Eddie frowns. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Buck shrugs, as if he doesn’t know the answer. As if the words aren’t right there on the tip of his tongue: I didn’t want anyone to worry .

“No,” Eddie says, gentle and a little bit—sad, almost, but trying not to be. It’s like he can read the words spinning through Buck’s mind. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

Because Eddie isn’t anyone . He hasn’t been for a long time. Buck rubs a hand over his face, then picks at a loose thread on his knee, avoiding Eddie’s eyes.

“Are you going to tell Bobby?” he asks.

“You don’t want me to,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shakes his head anyway. “Because you don’t want him to worry? Or because you don’t want to be benched for the rest of shift?”

The simple answer is both . That’s the answer Buck is supposed to give. It’s what Eddie is expecting to hear. But the truth is that Buck died, and nobody will let him forget it, and he still doesn’t know how he really feels about it.

That coil in his stomach tightens, dread clogging his veins. A traitorous, frustrated tear slips out and Buck squeezes his eyes shut. He makes a belated movement to wipe it away, but Eddie’s hand is already there, the curl of his fingers warm under Buck’s chin and his thumb warmer still as it swipes gently across his cheek. It’s that, Buck thinks, more than the pain and the frustration, that makes the next two tears slip out.

“I won’t tell Bobby,” Eddie promises him, the absence of his touch burning like frostbite when he pulls his hands away. “But I’m going on record saying that I think you should.”

“I can still do my job,” Buck mutters, sinking into his corner of the couch. It’s the easiest excuse to hide behind. It’s even mostly true: he can do his job, even if adrenaline and determination are the only things that get him through.

Eddie rolls his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Buck wilts. He does know. And he doesn’t want to argue with Eddie. It’s always so much easier to be angry, to burn hot and fast and deal with the fallout later, but whenever he reaches for the flames these days, whenever he thinks it’s not fucking fair , all he feels is tired. Bone deep, achingly tired.

You’ve been through a trauma , people keep telling him, but Buck has been through traumas before and they’ve never left him feeling quite like this.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I’ll tell Bobby if it becomes a problem.”

If it comes down to other people’s lives, he would have done it anyway. He’s not stupid; he’s not going to risk anyone else.

Eddie nods, satisfied. He takes the glass of water from Buck’s hands and sets it on the coffee table, out of the way, then settles into the couch at his side. There’s enough space that they don’t need to be touching, but they end up pressed together from thigh to shoulder anyway.

“Do you think you can sleep?” Eddie asks.

Buck shrugs, but he’s pretty sure the answer is no. He’s pretty sure that Eddie knows it too.

“Alright,” he says, reaching for the remote. “But it’s my turn to pick what we watch.”

It’s not, but Buck doesn’t fight him on it. He doesn’t care what they watch, doesn’t think he could focus on it right now anyway. He closes his eyes, letting the sound of some late-night soap rerun fade into background noise, and waits for the pain to fade with it.

****

Buck doesn’t sleep, but he drifts, sinking down to something close enough to sleep that it can almost be called rest. His leg doesn’t hurt as much anymore, the weight of the heating pads over his knee and ankle as much of a relief as the heat itself. He’s not sure what time it is when footsteps on the stairs make him tense, threatening to undo all the hard work that Eddie and the heating pad have done to relax his muscles. The only thing that keeps him still is the hand Eddie puts on his thigh, warm and grounding. He squeezes gently— relax, you’re okay, I’ve got you —then stands up, meeting Bobby in the kitchen with an easy, “Hey, Cap, you want some coffee?”

Buck relaxes, listening to the familiar sound of people moving around the station kitchen: mugs clinking, the coffee machine gurgling, the slightest squeak of boots on the floor as Bobby and Eddie move around each other. It’s so familiar and soothing that he’s almost back in that state of not-quite-resting, drifting through the currents at the edge of the room, when he hears Bobby ask, “He okay?”

It’s right there in his voice: worry worry worry . Buck bites the inside of his cheek hard enough that he tastes blood, sudden and metallic. It stops his heart in his chest for a beat, two beats, and he has to breathe carefully through the swell of memory and nausea until the taste of blood and bile have both been swallowed down.

“Yeah,” Eddie is answering behind him, and that helps too, “just a leg cramp, he’s okay.”

Buck doesn’t get to find out what Bobby’s response to that is—the alarm rings and he’s on his feet before it’s a conscious thought. Before he stops, one hand on the bannister going down the stairs, and wonders whether he should actually stay behind. Whether Bobby will make him stay behind.

He hesitates too long. Long enough that everyone else is already climbing into the truck and Bobby is looking back at him from the app bay, eyebrows raised.

“You coming, kid?”

Buck shakes himself and follows. He can still do his job.

****

The fire burns hot and fast, two townhouses already alight when they join the 122 on scene, a third just starting to go up as well.

“Shit,” Chimney mutters, and Buck feels it in his bones: people are going to die tonight. People are probably already dead, just waiting for someone to pull their bodies out.

“Buck—” Eddie starts, low and close, fingers twisted in his sleeve, and Buck doesn’t know what he’s going to say but—

“Not now,” he says, shaking Eddie off.

Eddie lets him go.

Buck tells himself that he’s grateful for it, even as his leg throbs in protest. He’s fine, he reminds himself. He’s fine, he can still do his job.

And he does. He lets the smoke and the flames numb him, sinking into the routine: check room after room after room, pull out body after body after body. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think.

He’s limping by the time they clear the buildings. The pain isn’t as bad as it was before, but it’s deep and persistent, the kind of always there pain he got used to feeling in the weeks after the ladder truck crushed him. Buck sees a life stretching out before him where it never goes away: he’ll wake up hurting every morning, go to sleep hurting every night, probably have to quit his job because he’s always, always hurting.

He feels sick. Thinks he might actually be sick, stuck on a roller coaster he doesn’t know how to get off, and he leans shakily against the engine, pressing his forehead against the cool metal while he tries to breathe the feeling away.

Bobby finds him there.

Of course Bobby finds him there.

“Here,” he says, and his hand is a steady pressure between Buck’s shoulder blades until he turns his head, blinking past the red of the engine to find a water bottle being held out. Bobby shakes it a little when Buck doesn’t immediately reach to take it. “Come on, Buck, you know the drill.”

Buck wonders which drill that is. The stay hydrated when fighting fires one, or the don’t disobey orders one, or maybe the let people take care of you one. It doesn’t really matter, he supposes, the answer is all the same. He grabs the water bottle from Bobby’s hand. Fumbles it open and takes a few sips.

“Sit,” Bobby suggests, hand still on Buck’s back, gently guiding him the few limping steps until he can sit on the front of the engine. The scene is still bustling around them, firefighters moving like moths around the flames, but Bobby seems content just to stand beside Buck, watching silently.

Buck lasts five minutes before he breaks.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asks, exhausted down his marrow.

“About your leg?” Bobby doesn’t pretend not to know what he’s talking about and Buck is grateful for it. “I figured you’d come to me if something needed saying.”

Buck swallows.

Swallows again.

He’s pretty sure they’ve reached the point where something needs saying, but he has no idea where to start. I’m sorry , maybe. I swear the doctor cleared me , probably. The words all feel frothy on his tongue, taking up more room than they should, and he opens his mouth without really knowing which ones he’s going to say and—

“I’m scared.”

It’s a whisper. A confession meant for the dark safety of night, spilled out here in the burning daylight of a new day like oil on the road. The sun glints off it like a beacon: here! look, beware, there is danger here! Buck wants to scoop the words back up, shove them deep inside his chest, lock them up where he’s the only one who might choke on them. He wants to find a smile, or a joke, anything that he can tape over the moment to wipe the look of quiet concern off Bobby’s face. He wants to pretend that he’s fine because maybe if he pretends hard enough it will become true.

“I don’t even know why I’m scared,” he finds himself confessing anyway. “I don’t know why my leg hurts, or how to make it stop, or—”

or if I’ll ever feel normal again

There’s a flash of memory—Eddie crying at the dining table, Eddie’s room destroyed, Eddie’s door locked, Eddie dying in the street—so sudden and visceral that Buck flinches away from it. His breath stutters, and his leg throbs sharply, and it’s all so much that he almost flinches when Bobby puts a hand on his shoulder as well.

“I’m not going to pretend that I have all the answers,” Bobby says, as warm and steady as his hand. His lips twist into something wry for a second as he adds, “Or any of them.” Buck doesn’t smile, even though he thinks he’s supposed to. “But I’m always here if you want to talk, or even if you don’t.”

Bobby breakfasts . It’s not a secret at the firehouse, but it’s always talked about in low tones, the same way you’d whisper about something sacred. They’ve all had one at some point: a quiet invitation at the end of a hard shift, “we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” then the comforting bustle of a café with good coffee and eggs cooked any way you want them. Buck remembers sitting in that café three days after Eddie got shot, the taste of blood still in his mouth and his stomach too messed up to even think about eating, sipping camomile tea while Bobby ate a bagel and did the crossword in an honest to god newspaper beside him.

He remembers wondering where the newspaper even came from. Remembers the flash of fear at the realisation that he’d lost time somewhere between the firehouse and the café. Remembers his hands shaking around his teacup, china rattling as he set it back in the saucer, and Bobby’s knees bumping against his even though the table was big enough that they shouldn’t have.

He remembers that it helped, even if he didn’t really know it at the time.

“Captain Nash!” someone calls, and it’s like a bucket of ice water over Buck’s head.

Bobby glances behind him, towards the IC who called his name, then back at Buck, his reluctance clear on his face.

“Go,” Buck tells him, hugging himself. “I’m okay.”

Bobby still hesitates, long enough that the IC calls his name again, and Buck tries for a smile that is probably more like a grimace by the time it reaches his lips. It gets Bobby moving though. Gets him to nod, once, and squeeze Buck’s shoulder again before he turns with a parting, “I’ll send Eddie over.”

Buck opens his mouth, halfway to a protest, but Bobby is already striding away. He should be annoyed, he thinks; he doesn’t need a babysitter. But instead he’s just kind of grateful as he sinks back against the engine, knowing he won’t be alone for long.

****

The shift is over by the time they get back to the station, but Buck still finds Bobby in his office. The door is open, but he knocks anyway, leaning heavily against the doorframe because he thinks his leg might collapse under him if he has to take one more step.

“I can’t,” he says, when Bobby looks up at him. “Talk about it. Not yet.”

Not with Bobby, at least. Not until he can find a way to say I’m not okay without also saying you died, you know? in my coma dream, you died because I wasn’t there to help save you, and I don’t know what to do with that because sometimes I feel like I can save everyone except myself .

“Okay,” Bobby says easily. “Would you like to have breakfast anyway? We don’t have to talk.”

Buck smiles, tired but real. “I appreciate the offer, Cap, but—maybe a rain check?”

Bobby’s face is a silent ah . “You’re going home with Eddie.”

It’s not a question. Buck nods anyway. If he turned his head just slightly, he’d be able to see Eddie hovering by the engine, both their bags slung over his shoulder, waiting for Buck to be ready to go. Waiting to jump in if he’s needed too, knowing Eddie.

“Good,” Bobby smiles, and Buck knows it means he’ll take care of you . “If you need anything, let me know.”

“I will.”

Bobby nods, satisfied, then looks back down at his paperwork. “I’ll see you next shift, Buck.”

Buck bites the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t do something embarrassing like burst into tears. He has to breathe through the sudden lump in his throat a couple of times before he can say, “Thanks, Cap. See you next shift.”

He turns carefully, weight balanced on his good leg, and limps out towards the parking lot. It only takes a few seconds for Eddie to fall into step beside him, their shoulders bumping gently.

“Okay?” he checks, brown eyes warm and serious on Buck’s face.

Buck smiles; still tired, still pained, but still real.

“Yeah,” he answers. “All good.”

And it’s not really. Not fully. But—

“It will be,” Eddie agrees, smiling back.

It will be .

Yeah.

Yeah, Buck thinks, he’s gonna be okay. His family will make sure of it.

#Evan Buckley #Eddie Diaz #Maddie Buckley #Chimney Han #Bobby Nash #911 Fox #fic #post lightning buck is something that can be so personal

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 6 months

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One piece X Demon Slayer

You've done Demon Slayer characters ending up in the one piece world so let's do the opposite and see how that works

Chopper somehow ending up in the world of Demon Slayer it would be interesting to see the slayer's reactions to a harmless reindeer demon that can stand in sunlight that not only doesn't have any craving for blood or even a need for it but is also stupidly good doctor

The notable reactions I think would be Shinobu, Kaguya and Tamayo

Shinobu because one her fear of furry things and two he is a doctor and arguably leagues above her in skill outside of her specialty in toxins and poisons

Tamayo I think I sort of kinship would form between the two of them

And kaguya is more Chopper taking interest in him mostly due to the curse and I am 110% sure that Chopper would immediately trying cure or at least find a treatment for his and his family's illness

-The Demon Slayers had been dispatched after reports of a strange creature, one that was wandering around in the sunlight, so it couldn’t have been a demon, unless if it was one that overcame the sun.

-Tanjiro and Rengoku arrived at the location where it had been spotted and Rengoku was able to pick up the sounds of someone crying and sniffling.

-They were not prepared to see a … “A deer?” Chopper flinched, holding onto his hat as he turned, his voice hitching, “Don’t hurt me! I’m not a demon I swear- I’m just a reindeer!!”

-Tanjiro kneeled, trying not to appear so scary, “How can you talk then?” Chopper explained that he came from another world, one filled with strange fruits called Devil Fruits, which gave those who ate them unique abilities.

-Rengoku then asked his own question, “What fruit did you eat then?” Chopper lifted a hoof, rubbing the back of his head, bashfully, telling them he ate the Human-Human Fruit, which made him more humanlike, allowing him to speak.

-After a bit of hesitation, Rengoku made the decision to bring Chopper back to HQ, something Ubuyashiki agreed on, wanting to meet this reindeer.

-When the others saw Chopper peeking from behind Rengoku, facing the wrong way so most of his body was exposed, he immediately panicked as Sanemi drew his sword, “You brought a demon back?! You idiots!!”

-Chopper was quickly crying, overwhelmed- he just wanted to go back to his friends, he wanted to go back out to sea, as Mitsuri and Tanjiro were trying to calm him down (looking like this lol).

-Kagaya was the one to calm Chopper down, after he approached, “This isn’t a demon- that much I can tell.” Chopper’s voice hitched, looking up at him before seeing his face and eyes, “What happened to your face?”

-While some yelled at Chopper for the rude question, Kagaya kneeled down, explaining the curse that he was forced to endure before Chopper spoke, “If it’s a disease- I can try to help!”

-Shinobu, who was hiding behind Mitsuri, terrified of him, as she did not like small furry creatures, glared lightly, “Curses cannot be cured- believe me we tried!”

-Chopper turned and everyone saw her flinch, hiding back behind Mitsuri again who was confused on why Shinobu was so scared- Chopper was adorable!!

-To humor him, Shinobu allowed him to see her research and he went over everything, and he stunned all by rattling off information about what he could see, about what the curse was doing.

-Everyone was stunned, seeing that he was a doctor, and a very knowledgeable one at that! Chopper got to work, researching a few different things before he came up with a new medicine, one that drove the demon poison out of others, as long as the wounds were fresh, as in the poisoning had only happened within the last day or so.

-Shinobu was stunned, forgetting her fear only for a moment as she looked over his research and helped him heal the warriors who came in, on the brink of death, driving the poison out of their bodies.

-While he couldn’t heal Kagaya, something Chopper felt like a failure for, the same medicine at least took some of the pain away, letting him have a mostly normal day when he took the medicine.

-Shinobu was prideful but she knew that Chopper was a talented doctor, and admitted that to him, flinching back with a squeak after he turned with a bright smile, thanking her.

-Tamayo was invited to see this medicine by Kagaya, as he knew that she was also researching the poison that demons used, wanting to use it against demons.

-Chopper had originally been against using medicine to harm others, as it went against his code, something Tamayo sympathized with, sitting with Chopper, “There are good demons in the world, like myself and Nezuko, but it’s the demons who are bad, those who would cause unneeded suffering, slaughtering innocents, that we want to rid the world of. If this will give us an edge, to stop more suffering, I believe we should take it.”

-Her words resonated with him, as he looked down at his hooves, which made her smile softly, he was such a kind person. The world needed more people like him.

-Kagaya was very kind to Chopper, always willing to answer his questions, and Chopper was such a good doctor, wanting to do whatever he could to help with his pain.

-Kagaya would let Chopper cry when he was missing his friends, telling him all the adventures he had gone with his friends, becoming a pirate, making Kagaya smile, hearing about the fun Chopper had before he came to this world.

-Most of the Hashira respected Chopper, because his medicine had saved so many lives and had helped their leader with his suffering, but there were some, Sanemi, who still thought he was a demon, being cautious.

-Mitsuri on the other hand, was the opposite, she loved to cuddle Chopper, treating him to meals and just making him feel welcome, and Chopper was a bit dim to realize why Obanai seemed so angry with him all the time. Once Obanai realized this he did back off, seeing Chopper as a child.

-Chopper still missed his friends, and probably would, at least until he could figure out how to go home, if there was a way to go home, but at least he had a safe home and had a purpose, helping the Demon Slayer Corps, helping those who had been injured and helping them fight back against the demons who would easily take over if the Demon Slayers fell.

#demon slayer #chopper #ubuyashiki kagaya #tamayo #shinobu kocho #tanjiro

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leoslosttoolbelt · 1 year

Text

What I think the demigods would major as and why

these are personal head canons dont take them too seriously :)

Percy: Education. I know that we usually hc as a Marin biology kinda guy but I genuinely think that he wouldn't be too fond of the workload but instead want to work towards being a teacher and being the kind of teacher he needed as a kid, y'know? Alternatively, I can see him being into something like baking and pastry art to take over Sally's shop.

Annabeth: Architecture. I really don't think I need to explain this one to y'all but yeah she's an architecture girly. But if we want to branch out I can also see her studying law and working in the area of Child Protection.

Leo: Astrophysics. I have this head canon of him panicking because of the sheer amount of choices that he's presented with and choosing the first one of the alphabetical list. Lucky for him, he's insanely good at it AND it'll pay well in the future. He minors in mechanical engineering and realises that although he has all the practical knowledge because of his father, his theoretical knowledge isn't as strong lol.

Piper: Food Science. I'm trying to be unique here because yeah, she could do environmental studies but I also think it would be super cool to see her learning about food and developing new vegetarian versions of food because it's something she's visibly passionate about in the books.

Nico: I can see him getting a history / philosophy related degree for his bachelors just for him to get a doctor of philosophy (Ph. D.) in mythology or folklore. His hyperfixation runs deep and he sure as hell is going to fuel it as much as he can.

Jason: Doesn't go to college!! Is severely burnt out <3. No but like idk man I think he'd legitimately want to take it chill if that makes sense? Maybe he'd do a business major just so that he can get a job somewhere but I can't think of somewhere he'd fit in nicely. Jason does have a lot of part time jobs though!!

Frank: Nurse! Nursing school! Despite being the son of Mars I can see him being in the medical field because he wants to help people in need. It's a long journey with lots of ups and downs but finally getting his degree makes it all worth it.

Hazel: Geology because rocks. And also women in STEM!! This one directly correlates to her powers in the books as well as both of her parents! On the other hand, I can see definitely see Hazel studying in the field of archeology with the goal of being an archeologist and then eventually a museum curator :)

Reyna: Psychology!! Listen, I know this seems out of the blue but Reyna gives me the right vibes. Everyone is skeptical at first because they don't think she'd fit the mold of a clinical psychologist but that's okay because Reyna wants to further herself in research! She studies Neuropsychology and becomes a prominent researcher in her field! Please tell me you see the vision.

Will: From what I can see in the books, Emergency Medical Services degree seems like the right field for him. He's already basically a paramedic at Camp Half Blood so he knows it's naturally the right step for him. On the other hand, for something a little different - he seems like the kind of guy who might be interested in studying cinematography or art history maybe.

Travis: He studies Economics because he's so fucking convinced that he can become the next Elon Musk if he studies this. Alternatively, he studies music because he wants to travel the world and like sing with the wind and all that shit.

Connor: he's a communications major because he's a really popular youtube and technically doesn't really need to go to college but oh well he can study communications.

Drew: She goes to cosmetology school as the first step to start her own makeup and skincare empire. She's super nice to all of her clients and helps out all of the other students when they're having trouble with something! I will not tolerate any Drew slander let my girl breathe.

Pollux: Chemical Engineering. He got influenced by watching breaking bad and somehow landed himself a degree in chemical engineering. He doesn't know how he survived that degree but it doesn't matter because he decides to not give a fuck and open a coffee shop that becomes really popular because all the drinks are to die for.

Thalia: I don't really know the right terminology but she has an art related degree / tattoo apprentice so that she can work as a tattoo artist!! It fits with the thalis vision and also she is the eldest daughter who loses it lowkey so she doesn't follow your usual education route. Tattoo artist Thalia for the win!!

#pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #annabeth chase #leo valdez #piper mclean #nico di angelo #jason grace #hazel levesque #frank zhang #reyna ramirez arellano #will solace #travis stoll #connor stoll #drew tanaka #pollux #thalia grace #pjo headcanon

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cy-cyborg · 8 months

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What kind of worldbuilding would you expect from a world where amputation is really common? (NOT a cyberpunk thing. The technology is somewhere between Bronze Age and Middle Ages, which I know is really broad but I’m indecisive). Also the most common cause of amputation is disease, not war or anything like that, in case it makes a difference. So far all I’ve come up with is that assistive technology isn’t limited to more urban/populated areas, and people treat amputations as commonplace. Sorry if this is too random

Ok, so my answer to this will depend of what kind of tone you want. Do you want it to be normalised in a more idealist/optimistic way, or do you want to do worldbuilding around the new problems that would likely arise and take a more pessimistic approach? Either way there's a lot you can do with a setting like that and I absolutely love world building stuff like this! I was actually working on another post kind of similar to what you're asking for, so I have a lot prepared lol. apologies for the long post in advance.

Here are some questions/suggestions I would consider:

What are the views around Amputation in this setting? Do any stereotypes or beliefs appear around it?

Just because a disability is common, doesn't always mean it's accepted, or accepted unconditionally, nor does it mean people won't make odd assumptions about it. Obviously, if you want something more optimistic, you'll want to go with "it's just a normal part of life, most folks don't really think about it much" but in that case, even accepted disabilities get weird assumptions, stereotypes or even religious beliefs surrounding them. The best example of this in the real world is people who wear glasses. Most folks wouldn't even consider it a disability because it's just so normalised, but it is - glasses are a type of accessibility device. But what comes to mind when you think of someone who wears glasses? Chances are, it's someone smart, maybe a nerd? Glasses have nothing to do with intelligence but we associate people who wear them with it anyway. From what I found, that association formed in the middle ages, as monks and priests wore them to read, and those were people who studied religious texts and passed that information to the public. the common folk saw these people as a source of information and wisdom, forming the idea that glasses were worn by intelligent or wise people. If amputation is common and/or accepted, this kind of thing will probably happen with it too. If amputations are more common in some lines of work than others (either because that job leads to more amputations, or because a lot of people go into that line of work after their amputation) people will start to associate qualities needed for that job with amputees. For example, If the most common reason for amputation is illness, and if that illness is contagious, you might actually end up with a similar belief, that amputation is a sign of intelligence because doctors/healers, who people view as intelligent, are more likely to catch the illness, resulting in more amputations among doctors.

On the flip side, a lot of cultures have disabilities at the heart of many of their beliefs. For example, they idea of the fey replacing children with other fey, is thought to have been people's way of explaining neurodivergence like autism, ADHD and personality disorders before we had words for those disabilities.

Likewise, some European Christians believed people born with disabilities (including limb differences) could be explained by their mothers participating in witchcraft or deals with the devil. These disabilities were pretty common at the time due to malnutrition and a general lack of understanding about how to be safe while pregnant, but they lacked the medical knowledge to be able to explain it, and so superstition took over. If your setting has a similar level of medical knowledge/understanding, something similar might occur. Not every example of this is negative btw. It's thought that early ancient Egyptians believed disabilities such as blindness, especially if it was from birth, were the result of the gods calling them to speak for them. Similar lack of understanding about where the disability came from but this time it has a much more positive outcome.

Also, consider that if it's so normalised, people are going to be much less likely to be afraid of becoming amputees. This can be a positive thing, but it could have run on effects, both in the sense that people are less likely to care to take precautions to avoid things that could result in amputation, and that people may underestimate the impact it will have. Even in the real world, as being an amputee has become less stigmatised (though we are still far from normalised), some people have started underestimating how it will impact you. My prosthetist says the hardest part of his job is watching the realisation that a prosthetic won't be a magic cure hit his patients in real-time. this isn't to say being an amputee is always a terrible and awful and all the other things people think about disability, but it is a BIG adjustment that a lot of folks are unprepared for. In a setting where it's even more common, this is even more likely. It's also more likely that non-amputees will underestimate this impact, and say things like "but I know someone with the same amputation and they're fine!" when someone tries to say they can't/struggle to do something because of their amputation - something that also already happens to me irl lol. People are going to take to being amputees differently, they'll have different limits and different capabilities, how well does your society as a whole understand this?

Finally, think about if there are certain types of amputations that are more accepted/normalised/understood than others. In the real world, leg amputees tend to be more accepted than arm amputees in my experience, and larger amputations/multi-limb amputations carry more stigma and have a lot more bizarre misinformation and stereotypes about them. Is this the same for your world?

What is the general populations view of other disabilities?

Just because one disability is more common or accepted, doesn't mean they all are. This is especially important to consider for comorbid disabilities (disabilities that are connected to, are caused by having, or are usually seen alongside being an amputee). For example, a lot of leg amputees choose wheelchairs over prosthetics, but the degree of acceptance for that in your world will depend on people's view of wheelchair users as a whole. In real life, it's an unfortunate reality that the use of a wheelchair is looked down on and there are a lot of negative stereotypes about wheelchair users which deters a lot of leg amputees from using a wheelchair, even when they really need one. When leg amputees specifically use wheelchairs, we are often said to be giving up or even lazy for not "pushing through" or "trying hard enough" - I have another post here talking about that. This has resulted in a lot of amputee-specific spaces being completely inaccessible wheelchair users. An example of this would be a camp I used to attend specifically for amputees being held in a non-wheelchair accessible location until recently, or amputee clinics (where you go to see doctors who specialise in treating/rehabilitating amputees) having equipment needed for taking measurements essential for getting quality prosthetics, being unusable to people who can't stand up. If they do accept other related disabilities though, there's more stuff to think about (which I'll come back to in the next few points)

Of course, how your world views unrelated disabilities is important to consider too, because chances are there's someone out there with both. How does the general view of disability affect those people? Are people more or less likely to accept that having this other disability means they won't be able to things other amputees can? I'm autistic for example and find it nearly impossible to wear my prosthetic when I'm in burnout, both because it's a lot of energy I don't really have, but also because when I'm in burnout, I'm very sensitive to certain textures, and the feeling of wearing my prosthetics when I'm like that is unbearably uncomfortable.

What has the acceptance/normalisation of amputees done to influence beauty standards?

You see this a lot in cyberpunk but it's worth considering for other settings too. Amputation can be a very visible disability if you want it to be, but in the real world, there is a big emphasis on "looking normal" because beauty standards. This isn't just a modern thing either, there are many stories of real-life knights who lost arms during battle and had armour made for them that hid their missing limb. They were functionally useless (except for maybe backhanding people lol) but the desire to look "normal" outweighed the need for functionality to many.

If amputation is common though, this might not be the case in your setting. This might mean people are freer to explore prosthetics that put function over aesthetics, meaning they might have more advanced prosthetics than you'd typically expect to see in that time period. Alternatively, it might go the other way and you could end up with people who still favour aesthetics over function, but they try to make it look as outlandish and unique as possible.

Beyond how it effects amputees though, if prosthetics are seen as fashionable, do non-amputees try to mimic the look of prosthetics in their outfits? Consider the first point I mentioned here too. If there are certain desirable characteristics associated with amputees, would people trying to present themselves a certain way try to make it look like they're an amputee, even when they are not? Kind of like how people wear fake glasses to look smart or just as an accessory. Alternatively, how dose being an amputee play other beauty standards and expectations? Another real-world example, is that there is a lot of fatphobia in amputee circles, to the point where most teenaged amputees I know have/had eating disorders. Part of it comes from the general fatphobia in the wider population, but its amplified by the fact that many prosthetic components have weight limits on them, and many prosthetic companies refuse to make components for bigger people, not because they can't/it's too hard, but because they say there's no demand for it. So Doctors push the importance of staying below a certain weight so their patents can have access to better tech and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. If there are a lot more amputees though, this might be different, but it's worth considering.

How will it impact architecture?

When we think of medieval or even older structures, "accessible" isn't the word we usually think of. Most buildings had stairs, and the needs of people with different bodies was rarely, if ever considered. But if amputation is more common, this might not be the case, especially if things like wheelchair use are also common/accepted (told you I'd come back to that). Buildings will be more likely to use ramps, lifts (even in ancient times - this could be achieved via pullies or something similar, though it would need to be usable to arm amputees too) or forgo multiple levels entirely where possible. Roads would probably be paved or at least smoothed to allow for easier travel via wheels and cities would be laid out in way that would make traversing them from a wheelchair easier. This would likely have a run-on effect and lead to cities being more accessible to people with horse-drawn carts, wagons, carriages etc too. things would be made with the idea that someone lower to the ground, or someone who needs to use their feet to grab things (and therefore can't reach as high) needs to be able to access the thing too, and a lot more. Even small things, like the way doors are opened might be altered to make it easier to use for someone missing an arm/who's arms are occupied with pushing a wheelchair. Making spaces more accessible in these ways also has run-on effects. I already mentioned the carriages in cities, but it also means you might start seeing small changes to the world, like chairs being made to be more comfortable, or single-handed versions of tools/weapons being more common.

What type of illness is the most common cause? How do people view it? Is it understood?

You mentioned illness is the most common cause of amputation in this setting. In that case, consider what kind of illness is usually the cause. Is it a single disease? if so, is it contagious? How high is the mortality rate? Who does it mostly impact? I lost my own legs to an illness, one that is well-known where I live, but poorly understood - most people just know it's contagious and acts kind of like the flu. This has resulted in some very bizarre interactions with non-disabled people when they find out how I lost my legs. There was a rumour about me in school that I still had the illness, and so because of that my amputations were contagious. It wasn't just children who believed it either lmao. Now as the public has been better educated, those ideas are less common, but weird stuff still comes up occasionally, like the lady who thought my illness was a government conspiracy theory made up to control people and scare them into getting vaccinated, apparently my amputations were unnecessary and all a part of the plot lol. I don't know if I talked about that on this account yet but I think it's probably my favourite weird interaction lmao.

You can also look at how people reacted to COVID for ideas about how people react to wide-spread illnesses that have a high chance of disabling you. Diabetes is another good example too, while it's one of the most common causes for amputation in the real world, people are still very weird about it and a lot of people insist it either doesn't exist or can be treated without medicine (insulin). Does the disease in your world have a lot of untrue information about it too? are there people peddling fake "cures" to take advantage of people who are more at risk?

How has this impacted Medicine as a whole

In medicine, advancements in one field are rarely isolated. When advancements are made in one area, other areas usually follow or are at least influenced. As much as the modern medical industry structure likes to pretend otherwise, it's all connected. In the real world, amputees were a lot rarer (not unheard of mind you, but rarer) because well, bronze-age understandings of things like infection and disease in general wasn't great. people would often die from the side effects of the amputation or the surgery itself (e.g. infections, going into shock because the surgery was preformed while the person was awake, blood loss during surgery, a general lack of understanding of how important hygiene is post-op/a lack of access to proper hygiene etc). So if amputees are more common, that would imply their understanding of medicine is at least a little better than real-life bronze age folks. This won't just stop an amputees though, like i said, it's all connected. Having a better understanding of, say, how infection happens in an amputee, means they will probably have a better understanding of infection in general, which could stop a lot of deaths in other ways. Likewise, sewing a stump closed in a way that won't cause immense amounts of nerve and phantom pain implies a decent understanding of the nervous system in general, which will have run on effects in how a lot of other conditions can be viewed and maybe even treated.

Conclusion

There's a lot more you could consider, but I hope this gave you some additional stuff to think about (sorry for the long response, but like I said, I was already working on a nearly identical post so this was perfect timing lol). Let me know if you need more help, I love this kind of worldbuilding stuff! Also, just to be clear as well, as long as you aren't just ignoring the fact so much of your world is disabled or being super ableist about it, there's no right or wrong answers here. You can have more positive answers to these questions than what I've given as examples, you can go darker, you can have a mix of both, whatever you like. Depending on the tone you want, you don't even have to answer every question if you don't want to. If you have a rather light-hearted setting for example, you probably don't need to know how all your amputees are surviving infections and unmedicated amputation surgery lol, but if its a darker tone where the illness you mentioned is a central focus, then it's probably a good thing to think about at least. At the end of the day, just ensure your answers aren't based on stereotypes or misinformation and you're all good for the most part!

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