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sinfullyrosey · 9 months

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Shrimpmer!Reader

Floyd Leech X GN!Shrimpmer!Reader X Jade Leech

Warnings: Mild Violence, Brief Mentions of Accurate Shrimp Cleaning Methods (kind of gross)

I literally had written up a mini fic showcasing the tweels first meeting Shrimper!Reader… and lost it. Have no idea where it is. Searched through my drafts and got pissed, so just started over from scratch.

Can be read as platonic but with a lot of sus behavior ngl

The Basics (aka an Introduction to Shrimpmer!Reader)

Shrimpmer!Reader is a cleaner shrimp, a type of shrimp known for cleaning off parasites, algae, insects, and other bad stuff from fish. They’ve even been known to eat the mucus and infectious material around a fish’s wound to reduce infection and aid in healing. There are different species of cleaner shrimp, ‘scarlet skunk’ or ‘white-striped’ cleaner shrimps being known for cleaning the mouths of moral eels specifically.

Shrimpmer!Reader specifically comes from a family of cleaner shrimps that have a long-standing business partnership with the Leeches. Their family provides their cleaning and patch-up services to better the mereels’ health and heal any injuries, and in turn, the Leeches provide protection. It’s a mutualistic relationship where both benefit. And congrats, they were assigned to the tweels when they were but a mere fry and twins were still little elvers.

But what is it that Shrimpmer!Reader does exactly? Well, they have a cleaning station set up (i.e. a flat rock for the tweels to lay on while they work) and they go over the twins’ body, ridding it of any parasites and other debris. Picking at their scales and skin like a fine-tooth comb. They’ll even clean their sharp teeth using specialized brushes and tools to make sure nothing is stuck and strengthen the dentin (real shrimp physically go inside eel’s mouths, but shrimpmers are too big for that). Whenever the twins come to them with an injury after one of their scuffles, Shrimpmer!Reader will clean and disinfect the wound, being sure to remove any parasites, then wrap up the wound to heal faster.

In terms of anatomy and size difference, Shrimpmer!Reader is much smaller compared to the twins, but not on the same scale difference as real shrimps and moray eels. They’re not tiny enough to fit in their mouths but are small enough to be carried with ease. The best comparison I can give is like with the dwarves and Neige, but the tweels’ eel forms are much bigger compared to regular humans, so Shrimpmer!Reader would be shorter compared to a human as well. Floyd would joke about them being “child-sized.” Just like the Octatrio, their bottom half is that of a white-striped cleaner shrimp while the rest of their body has the matching miscolored skin, fin ears, and a pair of long, white antenna on the top of their head. No, their hands aren’t claws/pincers, but they do have sharp nails that aid in cleaning.

The Shrimp and the Eels Headcanons

Like mentioned above, Shrimpmer!Reader was assigned to Floyd and Jade back when they were all still children. Each new generation of Leech ends up being assigned a cleaner shrimp who are around the same age so that they can grow together and build a proper symbiotic bond. You just ended up unlucky ‘cause Mr. and Mrs. Leech had twins and you were the only available one in your family at the time. A two for one deal, as it were.

Rough first meet (the twins are asses even back then), but you eventually adjusted and they learned how much they actually enjoy getting all those nasties off of them. You were gentle and efficient, it was very soothing, almost therapeutic to them. But it was only after one particular cleaning where Floyd came to you, a week after he got into a fight, wound infected and riddled with parasites, that they fully realized just how much they needed you. Neither twin skipped a cleaning or wound treatment after that.

You are tiny and not built for fighting, so the twins are more than happy to do so for you!~ Some predator is stalking you, trying to get a taste? Floyd is already grabbing them by the tail, pulling them away from you and towards his own dangerously sharp jaws. Another merperson is bulling you, picking on your smaller size? Jade’s looming right behind, tail at the ready to squeeze the life out of them. Most of your patch-up work was from attending to their wounds sustained in fights defending you.

Floyd and Jade both have their tails wrapped around some poor, unfortunate soul who was pulling on your antenna. Jade is taunting the crying fry while Floyd is “playfully” biting their tail fins.

“Jade, Floyd, let them go already. You’re going to get in trouble…”

You do meet Azul later on, though never quite befriend him per say. His contracts made you uncomfortable and untrusting of his intentions. In turn, Azul was stiff and reserved around you on the account of the overly protective eels threatening to chew his tentacles off if he tried anything.

You’re not a student at NRC nor a student of RSA. Magic isn’t your forte (or your concern really), the tweels are. Which is why you do visit the schoolgrounds frequently, especially after the two (mainly Floyd) start complaining about “needing their shrimp.” They’re not even in their eel forms most of the time, but they do still get into fights and the nurse on staff isn’t good enough.

Congrats, you’re now the Leech’s designated Health Support Cleaner Shrimp, or whatever bullshit the twins pulled out of their tails when forcing requesting to Crowley that you be allowed to stay at Octavinelle! Double congrats, because you also work at Mostro Lounge as a janitor because you literally clean for a living!

In your human form, you are much shorter than most of the other students and you have two long cowlicks that resemble your antenna. You aren’t the biggest fan of this form, finding two legs to be difficult to navigate, especially since you kind of skipped the prep class. Floyd was impatient and claimed him and Jade would just teach you themselves. An unwise decision really.

I mean, you could also just request to have the potion adjusted so you can be taller too, I guess idk the twins aren’t going to tell you that.

You sometimes turn back into your merform with the tweels and swim together because you miss it. Floyd definitely missed curling his tail around his little shrimp and pinning you down with his much bigger size. He especially loves to flip you on your back and watch your little feetsies wiggle around in a panic.

Jade misses the cleanings more than anything else. Being a vice dormleader while also working at a lounge and doing schoolwork is stressful for one eel. So, being able to just relax and have you attend to him while he prattles on about mushrooms is absolute heaven. That’s not to say he doesn’t mess with you either. Jade will gladly use your height against you by putting your cleaning supplies on a higher shelf, so you’re forced to ask him for help, teasing you all the while.

No, you can’t clean anybody else, merfolk or otherwise. Only them. Azul almost lost a tentacle after suggesting such a thing when he noticed business was running slower.

You’re their cleaner shrimp, and they’re your eels. Anybody aware of the Leech’s influence know to back off lest they end up missing under mysterious circumstances.

Oh yeah, and the tweels, at some point, made it a habit to kiss you after you finished cleaning them under the guise of you “cleaning their teeth.” It’s become something so casual between you three now that when Azul caught sight of the twins and you locking lips, he nearly fell over at not realizing the three of you were (supposedly) an item.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Floyd Leech X Reader #Jade Leech X Reader #GN!Reader #I had indented to add a section dedicated to reader dating the tweels but I got creatively burnt out at the end #maybe I'll post a part two at a later date

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awakefor48hours · 6 months

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One of my favorite parallels for Marinette and Adrien had to do with their body movements and expressions.

Adrien is a model so everything about his physical appearance, his posture and facial expressions, and he's just always modeling at all times.

In this scene, he's asking if he can see Marinette and yet he's so stiff as he does it. These are all modeling stances.

But on the other hand, Marinette is a very expressive person. In any moment, her face can go through such drastic changes in just seconds.

Also, in any situation, casual or not, she'll move her body so much with how she talks.

There's not a lot of scene or moments when she's standing still. She's always moving in one form or another.

Another part that I love about this is shunned in young girls. Too many girls grow up being told that you shouldn't emote like this to avoid wrinkles but Marinette is allowed to freely do this without shame.

#marinette just like me fr fr #this is exactly how i look irl #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #this post was originally supposed to be only about marinette #so i focused a bit more on her than adrien #so i'll probably edit this later to add more gifs to adrien's part #my gif(s)

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moodlesmain · 11 months

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Hi. Look at this.

I just spent two days straight making a digital conspiracy board trying to piece together my favourite genre that isn't really a genre and more just a very particular niche which doesn't really have a name.

If you want to look I reccomend downloading and zooming in on the image to read everything LMAO, I want to try and convert it to a page on my neocities at some point so its easier to view but for now you guys just get a big ol' jpeg. You're welcome :)

#THIS IS ALL ABOUT ME TRYING TO LIKE BREAK DOWN A SUB-GENRE I'VE NOTICED like thats the main thing i'm trying to do here #its so broad but also so specific and trying to explain it is hard #so i made this #welcome to my twisted mind etc #just realised i forgot to include Long Exposure :(#i'm actually posting this a day later cause it was like 4am when i finished this #gravity falls #psychonauts #coraline #paranorman #sequel post to my one from a few days ago which got way more notes than i expected asedrjthgdrf???#this is a wip also i still wanna edit things and add things later #need to improve my silly lil' sticker labelling system #mystery kids #should i tag a few more of the things i included? at least the bigger things???? uhh #i'll tag #scooby doo #at the very least since i dedicated a whole corner to them #fandom conspiracy board #is that a thing is this a thing people normally do #idk #it's satisfying though i like it #enrichment for me :)

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blindmagdalena · 8 months

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The Fall

2.8k mostly sfw homelander x reader. christmas adjacent. depowered homelander.

Summary: After being struck by an unidentified projectile that renders him powerless, Homelander crash lands in your backyard, wholly at your mercy.

this is a rework of this original prompt. inspired by the fable of the mouse that aids the lion whose paw has been stuck by a thorn. ♡

Homelander is over a hundred feet in the air when he hears something whistling through the sky behind him. Some kind of projectile. A small missile, maybe. It's nothing he hasn't handled before: It could blow up in his face and he would be fine. He’s more curious about what exactly it is, who’s stupid enough to fire it at him, and where it’s coming from.

With that in mind–in that split second he has to react–he decides to forgo dodging it and instead attempt to catch it. However, as the mystery projectile gets nearer, his vision begins to tunnel.

What the fuck?

His reflexes slow, and before he knows it, the projectile strikes him hard in his left side rib, exploding in fumes that fill his lungs and coat his skin. In an instant, he feels pain like he's been turned inside out, a sensation worse than anything he’s felt since childhood. Instantly he's plummeting towards the ground, crashing directly into your backyard in an eruption of snow and yard furniture.

With his vision going black, the last thing he hears is the sound of the world turning deafeningly quiet.

When Homelander comes to, he's being shaken. No–compressed, hands over his chest, pushing again and again in a steady rhythm. Warm lips press against his, and a rush of air fills his lungs. His eyes snap open, and out of pure reflex, he drives his fist into your unfamiliar form, sitting up with a frenzied look in his eyes.

You should have flown back thirty feet with a hit like that. Instead, you only fell back onto your ass, coughing. Homelander's hands are shaking as he looks at them, and he can feel blood dripping from his ears, taste it in his mouth. He's disoriented, his whole body heavy. He's having trouble breathing, every ragged inhale a struggle, and his heart is pounding.

"Someone tried to kill me," he rasps in disbelief. Not surprised that someone tried, but that someone very nearly succeeded. "Someone... Someone tried to fucking kill me," he says again, growing more hysteric the more the pain sets in. His own brain is hammering against the confines of his skull, beating at the backs of his eyes.

He’s certain that he’s halfway to cardiac arrest, but no matter how he tries to focus, he can’t calm himself. His strength is gone. It’s gone. He looks at you, you, who should have a hole punched through your chest. Instead, you’re staggering to your feet, totally unharmed.

"Homelander!" You address sharply, audibly trying to rein in your own bubbling panic. He can see his own fear reflected in your eyes. You’re just as confused as he is. Just a stupid little mouse that crawled out of your hole and found him like this. "I can help you, okay? Let me help you."

There’s something about the sharp authority in your voice mixed with an undeniable quiver of compassion that catches his attention. It could be the degree of his vulnerability sinking in, but after a second of dumbfounded staring, Homelander nods.

It must be pure adrenaline that gives you the strength to help him into your house. You don’t look like you should be able to carry him. He's practically dead weight in your arms, barely keeping himself on his feet as you both stumble into your living room. The height difference does neither of you any favors.

You get him down onto the couch before fetching a wet rag, a bottle of water, pills, and a first aid kit. He watches you fumble with it, hands shaking. He assumes it’s adrenaline, though you lack the acidic stench of it. No, you probably don’t. He just can’t smell it anymore. He can’t smell anything except the faint tinge of blood, and whatever nauseating scented candle you use to stink up your home. Though, even that’s distant compared to what he’s used to. However, he finds he doesn’t have it in him to panic. Is this what shock feels like?

He takes the water you offer him, but denies the pills. “No, no. I have no idea what that shit will do to me right now.” You nod, setting the bottle aside. You then lean over him, inspecting the level of damage. His ears are ringing, and his whole body is throbbing with sharp, painful aches. Maybe the pills would help, but he’s never had to take painkillers before. He’d rather swallow tacks than lean on something so pedestrian.

As you work, he notices a mottled mark blossoming darkly across the center of your chest, just under your collarbone, approximately the size of his fist. Without thinking, he reaches up to touch it, remembering the blow he’d dealt you.

You startle, looking down where he touches with a wince. The skin looks as tender as he feels. It must sting. Is he bruised like this beneath his suit? The thought of these same ugly dark marks mirrored on his own body brings him visceral disgust.

"Don't worry about me," you tell him, as comforting as your voice can muster. You grasp his wrist and gently lay it back down at his side.

I'm not worried about you, he thinks derisively. "That should have caved in your chest."

"Guess it's my lucky day, then," you say absently, more focused on using a wet cloth to wipe away the blood from his temple, up into his hairline, seeking the injury. You're meticulous but gentle in the way you handle him, cupping the side of his face to turn him one way, then another.

If not for how clumsy your movements feel, he’d think you’ve done this before. There is care and determination in the way you tend to him, but no obvious medical expertise. Even the kit you pull from looks out of date and sparse. You probably picked it up from a gas station on a whim because you needed safety pins. "I think these need stitches," you say as you carefully apply bandages, brows furrowed. Homelander's gaze lingers on your lips as you speak. What kind of person sees someone fall out of the fucking sky, blowing a crater in their yard in the process, and then thinks to give them CPR?

"I'm calling an ambulance," you say, moving to stand. That breaks him out of his stupor. He catches you by the wrist, stopping you in your tracks, despite how pitifully weak his own grasp feels. "No, no, not... Don't do that," he says, screwing his eyes shut briefly. No one else can know that this happened. Besides, if those psychopaths are still out there, it will draw them right to him. "Too much attention, I just... give me a fucking minute," he says, flexing his hands. They still feel weak, tingling like they've fallen asleep, but the bizarre sensation is gradually beginning to abate.

Whatever was done to him, it doesn't seem to be permanent.

He hopes to fuck that it isn’t. "Okay," you say tentatively. Instead of leaving, however, you reposition to continue wiping the blood from his face, gently rubbing from his temples down his jaw. He watches you like a hawk, rolling his fingers in and out of fists, gradually feeling his strength return to him.

He's unaccustomed to the way you're handling him. One hand cupping his jaw, ginger in the way you move his head only when you absolutely need to. The concern wrinkled between your brows is so palpable, so sincere, that for a moment he almost forgets you're strangers to each other.

"What're you doing?" He asks eventually, voice low. You pause, looking down to meet his eye. "Oh, I just... There's still blood, and I didn't want to leave you alone."

Your response tightens something in his chest, like a steel coil wrung too tight, leaving him uncomfortable. He feels small, vulnerable, and the tenderness of your touch is doing nothing for it. "I don't need you," he snaps defensively. "I'm fine."

"Okay," you respond, aggravatingly calm. Still soothing. "What do you need?" Homelander opens his mouth, but hesitates. Your earnestness is infuriating, waiting on bated breath for what you can do for him. He closes his mouth, jaw tight. His gaze flickers back down to the bruise on your chest. It's darker now, varying shades of purple and yellow fading into one another.

Looking back up at you, he schools his expression into calm focus. "Close the blinds," he says, gesturing with his head to the window, where you have twinkling white Christmas lights strung up.

"I need to lay low awhile." He can feel his powers steadily returning. Once he gets back to Vought, he'll find out who it was, and rip out their fucking spine.

You've already gotten up to do as he asked, drawing the blinds down, and then closing the curtains over them. Afterwards, you turn to leave.

"Hey," Homelander calls, frowning. You stop in the doorway. "Where are you going?"

"The kitchen," you answer, hand on the doorframe. "You can call if you need something."

"Stay here," he says, ignoring the bit of petulance he can hear in his own voice. He doesn't care if you're confused. He doesn't care that he doesn't entirely understand himself. He just wants you to stay.

He watches you take a seat at the end of the couch, near his feet. He exhales, closing his eyes. It isn't as though you could do anything if proficient killers did appear, but for whatever reason, no matter how useless you would ultimately be, he feels better for having you near.

Even a curtain is better than no door at all.

After half an hour, his senses begin to sharpen again. It begins as a dull, irritating buzz at first. It has him rubbing at his ears, screwing his eyes shut. It rolls in and out of focus, making it difficult to adjust to. “Are you okay?” You ask from the other end of the couch, where you’ve been sitting with remarkable patience. Maybe you’re afraid of him. He hates not being able to tell by the rate of your heart.

“Peachy keen,” he replies flatly. “Hearing’s coming back.”

“That’s good,” you say, though the inflection you end with makes it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good, it’s just… Loud,” he says, grinding the heel of his palm into his temple. His skull is still pounding. “Everything’s all… Coming back in a jumble. Giving me a fucking headache,” he says, though as he speaks, he realizes he’s able to focus fairly well on the conversation, drowning out the more intrusive ambient sounds. “Keep talking.”

You look surprised by his demand, but after a beat, you oblige. After maybe an hour of idle conversation, he learns your name, that you work from home, you like decorating for Christmas even when you spend it alone, and that you've lived a thoroughly dull, ordinary little life until this very moment.

That’s just what you’ve told him.

From his personal observations, he's learned that you’re a perpetual fidgeter, that you touch your face when you're nervous, and that you would rather laugh than take any of his disparaging remarks about your mundane life to heart.

"I think it's lucky for you that I’m so boring. I might not have been here otherwise," you counter. Your smile is so inexplicably charming–nose wrinkled like you’ve somehow pulled a fast one on him–that Homelander forgets to refute your point. Instead, much to your alarm, he sits up.

"Oh, steady! Are you sure you're okay?" You ask, standing as he does, hands out as if to catch him. He stretches his hands out in front of him, and then curls his arms back in. Exhaling, his eyes flare crimson. He likes the way it makes your heart jump when he looks at you through the red glow.

His lips quirk, lasers fading out. "Good as new," he says confidently, though the aches of his fall still linger in his joints. Not quite new. He takes a few long strides across your living room, pausing in the doorway to your kitchen, where he can see through to your yard, and the absolute crater he left in it. "Vought will... take care of that," he says, gesturing vaguely to the destruction.

You can't help but laugh, crossing your arms loosely to survey the damage with him. "I appreciate it, but really, I'm just glad you're alright," you say honestly, staring out into the wreckage of your yard.

Homelander purses his lips slightly, glancing at you from his peripheral. Above him, he feels something brush the top of his head. When he glances up, what he sees hanging in the doorway makes him smile deviously.

Without warning, he puts his hands on your waist and spins you to him, lips landing warm and firm on yours. He absolutely devours the surprised little noise you make against him, halfway tempted to see what other sounds he can wring from you.

Your heart quickens to a race in his ears, and much to his delight, you kiss him back. You even surprise him by grabbing the back of his head with both hands, deepening the kiss of your own volition.

Not one to be out done, he adjusts his hold on you, one arm wrapping properly around your waist while the other slides up to cup the back of your neck, gloved fingers gently squeezing your bare skin.

To his delight, you retaliate with your tongue, slipping it between his lips and coaxing his forth.

Just full of surprises, little mouse.

Maybe you aren't so boring after all.

He meets you eagerly, exhaling a rough, excited little huff through his nose, dropping the hand at your waist to grab a cheeky squeeze full of your ass, wringing a soft moan from you that sends a bolt of heat straight to his cock.

When Homelander pulls back, you're flushed warmly all over. You smell of antiseptic wipes and peppermint, like Christmas in a hospital. It’s bizarrely appealing.

"What was that?" You ask, dazed.

"Mistletoe," he purrs, tipping his head back without taking his eyes off you, settling his hands back on your waist.

You look up slowly–taking a solid few seconds to process–and huff a gentle little laugh, nodding at the aforementioned ornament dangling above you.

"Is this your way of saying thank you?" You manage to ask after swallowing back the lump in your throat, your shoulders relaxing, though your heart continues to gallop in your chest. "I hope you're still going to pay for my yard."

It's Homelander's turn to laugh. "Oh, no. I haven't even begun to say thank you yet," he assures you, hands lingering on your hips.

The kiss had been pure unrestricted impulse, nothing he intended to follow through on. However, now that you're toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, your skin warm against his, your eyes half lidded, he’s not sure that he wants to let you go. Your lips shine where you’ve licked the taste of his from them.

“I think for your good deeds, you’re owed a very merry Christmas,” he says, waggling his brows.

You give a flustered, incredulous bark of laughter, covering your mouth as you look away from him, that flush of yours intensifying, making your whole body thrum warmly. You wouldn’t need to worry about keeping warm on these cold winter nights if he had his way with you.

“Okay, well, uhm, thank you for… for that thought,” you say, tripping over your words in a way you haven’t this entire encounter. “You hit your head pretty hard, though so maybe before you make any promises, we make sure you get checked out by an actual doctor,” you say, pushing lightly against his chest.

He maintains his hold for just a second longer, utterly immovable. It feels good to be himself again. He runs his tongue along his teeth, downright predatory in the way he stares down at you, but he does relinquish his hold.

“You should come with me to the tower. You know, now that you’re… Compromised,” he says, folding his hands behind his back. “Someone might come looking for me here. Interrogate you on my condition.”

Real fear flashes in your eyes at that. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he gives back gravely.

“Uh… Okay. Uhm, let me… I’ll pack a bag,” you say nervously, stepping away from him to do just that.

“Okie-dokie,” he gives back simply, glancing around your home while he waits. He picks up an odd little gnome with a big red hat that covers everything but a little button nose, and a long white beard. Maybe he’ll convince you to bring along some of your festive decorations.

Merry Christmas to me, he thinks, already daydreaming about twisting the head off of whoever hit him with some kind of neutralizing agent.

He might thank them for the impromptu date while he’s at it.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #depowered homelander #i was originally just going to edit the original post but #i couldn't add a title to it that way #so have a brand new post lol #i never posted this one to ao3 because i always meant to do this #so i'll cross-post this later #also i think i want this to serve as the foundation for my depowered HL verse #especially that one where he's seemingly lost his powers for good #my writing #ho ho homelander #enjoy some wildly out of season christmas btw lol

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valkubusqueen · 1 year

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Avatrice + being cute in season 1 & 2 (part 1)

requested by @warrionnunaddict

#warriornunedit #warrior nun #avatrice #avatriceedit #ava silva #sister beatrice #wnedit #i had some many clips ready and i def needed another set to finish them #and look at how many moments like had in episode 1 in season 2 #there are more in season 1 but later on so i'll add them later #also warrionnunaddict it would not let me @ u so i linked ur account i hope thats ok if not tell me and i'll delete it #mine #warriornun*#gifset #warrionnunaddict #also i hope the you like it i know its not like the other one but maybe part 2 will be idk

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ciervobizarro · 1 year

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Blackberry.

#guro #planth growth #aaart #I'll add the speedpaint video later zzzzzz it's still uploading zzzzz #d.rubyk

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toomanybrainrots · 4 months

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hello everything is fine? Can I request headcanons for Transformers Prime? for predaking, shockwave, optimus and megatron meeting an original predacon female reader who survived thousands of years during war and isn't that a shockwave experience? (if you can, just predaking sees the femme reader as a romantic partner)

Now this is an interesting request. I haven't actually written tfp Predaking not much, if at all, so this is gonna be new for me.

Warning(s): Femme Predacon Reader, Reader is referred to as 'my queen' by Predaking

Predaking, Shockwave, Optimus and Megatron with a Femme Reader that's an original Predacon

Predaking

Predaking had no idea any original predacons were still here

And he didn't expect them to be more...big.

You absolutely towered over him, easily dwarfing him. You barely even fit into the Nemesis with how big you are

It was the first time Predaking ever felt...small. You easily picked him up and carried him wherever you went, despite his protests

Overtime, he started to not mind it, in fact he kinda liked it? Well, he liked you more specifically

"My queen-!" His protests fell on deaf audials as you picked him up again, craddling him in your arms as you walked down the hallways of the Nemesis.

"My queen, please put me down..." He said, trying to convince you to no avail. He should've known better than to try that, you didn't take orders from anyone, not even Megatron.

He thought he was going to be the one to court you.

He thought wrong cause you ended up being the one courting him. Using old predacon courting methods: bringing him prey you caught yourself, never leaving his side, snarling at anyone that dared to look at him wrong even for a moment

Of course, he did the same to you. Most of the prey he brought were tiny for you, but you loved the gesture nonetheless.

Safe to say, you trated and spoiled him like a King. In turn, he spoiled you like the queen you were.

Shockwave

Shockwave was fascinated to see you, an actual original predacon living and breathing, hidden away in your cave from the war

He wanted to examine you up close, asking all sorts of questions. How did you survive and escaped the fate that had befallen your bretheren? How long have you been here on Earth?

You ignored him. It was annoying and you definitely did not have the patience to answer

You let out a huff annoyance as you tuned out Shockwave, rambling about how 'fascinating' and how 'scientifically illogical' it was for you to be here.

"How did you survive this long with him, my King?" You asked Predaking, leaning down to whisper to him. "I just tune out half of what he says. It is very useful." Predaking answered, glancing back at Shockwave. "Just half?" You repeated, having slight respect for your soon to be mate for dealing with the scientist.

The only reason you let him examine you was because of Predaking and because you knew he wouldn't stop bothering you otherwise

It was very long and tedious for you. Atleast Shockwave didn't bother you much after that

Still, you respected the scientist. He was good at what he did, despite his...strange mannerisms.

Optimus

You slammed Optimus into a wall the first time you met

To be fair, you thought he was an intruder when he and his team had ventured into your cave

He had never, in his life, had expected to meet an actual, breathing and living original predacon. He's met a predacon in the form of Predaking but this was very different

He was relieved when you decided to join their side, though he wouldn't admit it

It puts a smile on his face when he sees you act very familial to the kids of the team(Smokescreen and Bumblebee) and makes a chuckle escape his vocalizer when you pick them by the neck guard

"Come on, put me down!" Smokescreen protested, squirming as you held him by his neck guard, his protests falling on deaf audials

The team looked at you two in amusement as Smokescreen eventually fell limp, giving up and succumbing to his fate. You let out a pleased hum at his defeat.

A chuckle escaped Optimus' voice box as he watched the scene unfold before him. Sometimes, he wished these peaceful moments would last longer. Where no war could touch them.

You often exchanged stories with him, talking about ye olden days™ and how it was like back then

He told you stories of the modern age, telling what has happened since then and telling you stories that had popped up

You both talked to each other for hours on hours, until Ratchet had to remind the two of you to recharge(not like he was any better)

You respected him as leader and friend, and he respected you as teammate and friend

Megatron

Megatron had thought you were going to be a new subordinate for him, a new pawn for him to use

That immediately shattered after he saw you in actual form, and he had to crane his head up to actually look at you

You made it very clear you didn't want to submit, and that you did not heed to anyone

(I couldn't make or think of a scenario but basically, you kicked the shit out of him(im so sorry my brain juice is out at this point))

So yeah, not very good first impressions

It didn't grow any better, as you kept being passive aggressive with each other

Just a lot of passive aggressiveness

He did have a begrudging respect for you, due to your immense power and skills. He thought you respected him too

You didn't. You just thought of him as a bucket head that looked high 24/7

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riconsty · 8 months

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Love & Basketball (Dir. Gina Prince-Bythewood)

#sanaa lathan #love and basketball #loveandbasketballedit #black cinema #filmedit #sports film #riconsty: gifs.#tf is my tags man #idk i'll add later!!!#ship inspo #ship inspiration.#movieedit #pocedit #pocfiction #friends to lovers

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maximotts · 8 months

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⚘ 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲

an 18+ cowgirl!Wanda Maximoff AU New to the small, rural town of Westview, it was only a matter of time until you caught the eye of everyone's favorite local young farm owner. And you can't seem to get your mind off her either...

As mentioned above, this is an 18+ AU, minors DNI, respect my wishes, etc.

This started as a lil jokey joke, but now I'm obsessed: welcome to Yeehaw Wanda Supremacy!

I'm just writing her for funsies and honestly, this AU is mostly very lighthearted because sometimes we just need a lot of warm fuzzies in our lives! Still, this Wanda has a lot of nasty smutty tendencies and each part will be labeled with appropriate warnings

There's no overarching plot to this so fics are listed in chronological order instead of posting order as I write different parts of Wanda and Bunny's relationship; the most recently posted fic will be marked with a *

Inbox Tags: #country bunny au. || #cowgirl!wanda

┊. 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧

⚘ first encounters ⚘ dessert ⚘ homemaking

┊┊. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

⚘ warming up ⚘ barn nights ⚘ fireplace snuggles ⚘ helping wanda undress after work ⚘ a run in at the grocery store* ⚘ chubby bunny challenge

#I'm sure I'll continue finding things I wanna add in this later but for now... its Here #country bunny au.

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tired-hellowl · 2 months

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here' a comprehensive list as to every problem I have with the current *unecessary characters known as 'Glitz and Glam'

Do they expand the story/worldbuilding in any meaningful way? Do they explore a new hidden dynamic/past conjunction with a differing character and is that explored meaningfully? What was the point of having them animated when Mammon can portray the same level of humiliation/degrading/on stage lack of positive reinforcements. 😐

I'm so sorry but I view these characters as necessary garbage that caused some animators arthritis via too many patterns, not enough screen time to have meat and potatoes worth of dialogue, or really any pretense within the story whatsoever and yes this extends towards every female character on screen but let's not worry about that !!! Even if they are IMPLIED to be from the ring of envy-a color or ring we haven't seen nor meaningfully conveyed to the audience that it even is possible to go in/exists- it isn't conveyed to the audience well enough besides the visual implication of colors???? Instead of having shitty b-plots that go nowhere via Stolas and Blitz goofing off in seeing stars, Moxxie and Millie getting C-plots for no reason, or loona getting a rabies shot- all of that time could have been exploring hell, going to different rings, focusing on other characters besides the main 5, literally I would prefer a quiet episode like BoJack Horsemans 'Fish out of Water'where we can actually see the personalities of the main characters be appreciated and shown to us but that's never gonna happen :/

What I've been worried about is not even the on screen racism/out of touch 'rap/hip-hop parody' leaves a terrible taste in my mouth, if that isn't enough then the sexualization/implication of an incest type dynamic and nothing else besides fetish bait with these characters constantly grabbing one another and not really acting like siblings moreso someone who has never had siblings attempting to write sibling banter and failing terribly :/

Why do you have a problem with 'Klown Bitch' it's so catchy! Uhm, no??? I feel bad for anyone who attempts to defend helluva/hazbin as good modern musicals let me grit my teeth in silence as to the glorification over white people dominating black culture

HERES A HISTORY OF FEMALE HIPHOP ARTISTS: X

Pictured above is very old concept art about twin characters and its the same hairshape viv kept to transfer over to glitz/glam- despite clearly being over designed and way too much going on Alá vivzie style. It just goes to show she recycles even from herself and not every design is always new hot and fresh :/ AND SPEAKING OF CONCEPT ART-

Also also don't forget salems' concept designs thst got passed even though they loon toony, loony, clown enough, and definitely majorly way easier to have animated besides the mess that is the current design meta ???

Love how you can clearly see the silhouettes being so easily identifiable comparably towards the actual amalgamated mess that is their current limbs attempting to hold onto their toothpick body for their head.

All this screams to me is viv using the artists thst try to come onto helluva and they try their best with what their given, viv only picks the best bits SHE thinks is worth her time rather then thinking about the audience or animating anything else besides overglorified white people rap 🤔

Also the episode literally presents its full internalized misogyny/racism within this episode because vivzie herself literally admitted to typing into script with a full chest that

'Women just ain't funny'

. . .

why present misogyny within the series if you as a creator aren't willing to tackle the subject matter? Why write about it or present it as if you're smart over including the joke in your script when it isn't even funny because it just further pushes women out of the entertainment/comedy business which mind you IS ALREADY VERY WELL MALE DOMINATED SO PUTTING OTHER WOMEN DOWN TO PUT YOURSELF UP ISNT HELPING YOUR CASE VIV???

So then what was the point of adding female clowns if all you were going to do with them was make fun of them out of their expense and then profit off of the fact that they are incest coded????????????

?????????Are we watching the same fucking series????????

#vivziepop critical #i'll add more later #helluva critique #helluva critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss is homophobic #helluva boss critical #i hate it here #anti hazbin hotel #anti spindlehorse #anti helluva boss #anti vivziepop #cw inc*st #I hate glitz and glam so much

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yukkureimu · 15 days

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I love making blingees!!^^

#old web #old internet #early internet #web graphics #glitter graphics #2000s internet #blingee #picmix #made by me #stuff i made #I'll add the anime names later #2000s web #myspace #web finds #glitter gif #glitter text #emo #2000s emo #my chemical romance

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stellasolaris · 1 year

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What does canon suggest about Riven and his background? I will share some of my thoughts about Riven's background and potential socioeconomic status in this post. As always, these are just my opinions. (If anyone's wondering: no, this is not the meta post that I was talking about in one of my other posts.)

I'll start by saying that my following thoughts are based on the RAI dub and the first four seasons (S1-4) as I don't consider anything past season four canon. However, I'm mainly going to focus on seasons one and two in this post.

As pointed out by many, the one-on-one scene between Sky and Riven in 2.08 is the closest we get to Riven directly confessing that he is (or has been at some point in his life) from lower-class origins.

Riven: Must be nice being a prince. You spend your whole life learning from the best.

I agree that this does give us some indication of his social class, mostly because this line fits with the rest of his characterization that's established in the earliest seasons, but even on its own, it does imply that Riven isn't nearly as privileged as Sky. He wouldn't make a comment specifically about Sky's access to highly qualified teachers if he didn't feel like he lacked them in some capacity. In other words, when we take into consideration his character as a whole, it's implied that Riven has not had as many resources growing up. This hints at him being from the lower class or relating to the struggles of someone from the lower class.

It's important to note here that this isn't the first instance Riven has expressed distaste or a mocking attitude toward privilege. It is also equally important to understand why he reacts so strongly to it. It's not that he hates or dislikes anyone who's above him in wealth or opportunity. I think he primarily has an issue with the injustice of being looked down on, of not being treated fairly, of not performing well enough. He's sensitive to people being ignorant of their privileges, which is why he often calls it out, but it's not necessarily out of resentment toward the person or their social class, but rather an indicator of his roots and how he feels about privilege in general. 2.21 is a good example of this, which I will get into later.

The reason Riven is so aggressive and abrasive in the first season has to do with a myriad of things, but it makes the most logical sense that he's likely had a bad childhood (aka trauma) and experienced being treated unfairly by either the system or people above his status. Riven wouldn't otherwise feel so strongly about privilege in season two or make patronizing remarks that are directly about one's social class in season one.

Sky (Brandon): What Riven means is that perhaps it would be best for you to go back to Alfea while we try to capture that animal. Riven: We don't need your editorial comments, Your Highness.

Brandon (Sky): Riven, you've gone too far! Riven: You're just Prince Sky's yes-man, Brandon. Why don't you go clean up his stables?

In season one, Riven likely projected a lot of his personal issues and insecurities on Brandon and Sky and their class dynamic as a whole—primarily his trust issues and feelings of inferiority—but after the infamous monster scene in 1.22, he goes through a ton of humbling and character development. He grows as a person and learns to trust and appreciate the boys, and most importantly, he starts to embrace himself. He also finally feels accepted by the group, which makes him want to clean up his act even more.

By the time we get to season two, Riven is relatively calmer and significantly lacking in condescension. The comments he continues to make about privilege are mostly a nod to his background and how he feels about unfair advantages. This is why we see a much more mature and open version of Riven in season two where he continues to make remarks about privilege on several occasions, but he's much more reasonable about it.

I want to thank @skylaryozora for mentioning the following scene in 2.21 because it ties in perfectly with what I've been explaining so far.

Riven: Well, I think it's high time you girls get a taste of what life's like where you don't have magic powers, and all you can count on are your wits and your muscles.

In this episode, Bloom says she finds it hard to get used to not having magic powers, which leads to Riven making the aforementioned comment. Similar to 2.08, he indirectly calls out the privilege (albeit a different kind) but doesn't make a big deal out of it. He's most likely talking from personal experience and having had to count on his "wits and muscles" as a kid. He isn't angry or insulting in this scene, but he does acutely notice the difference between himself and others when it comes to having unearned advantages or a better upbringing or better circumstances, and again, he wouldn't continue making these types of remarks if it wasn't deeply personal to him.

Riven's comments based on 2.08 and 2.21 alone suggest that he's had to work hard on his own to get to where he is. It's blatantly obvious he knows what a lack of privileges (and likely economic instability) feels like, probably more than anyone else because the writers make it a pattern to have Riven point out these things.

Let's talk about Riven's skills and what they mean for his character

I don't think it's a coincidence that Riven is good at creating lock picks from scratch . . .

. . . or that his stealth and wilderness survival skills are impeccable compared to others

. . . or that he's exceptionally resourceful and adaptable

. . . or that he's good at spying

These are generally not skills someone randomly picks up or excels in after a year or two of training. These are skills usually associated with people who've had to look after themselves, watch their backs, and protect themselves—people who are more likely to come from the lower class than the upper class. These "street smarts" skills might not hold a lot of weight on their own but together they form a bigger picture as to what Riven has possibly gone through to obtain these skills. (Yes, I'm sure they teach all these skills at Red Fountain, but what I'm getting at here is that Riven's expertise lies in these skills, and I think it was an intentional decision on the writers' part to showcase these particular skills.)

It's also important to consider Riven's fighting style in season one. It's not very polished. It's rushed. It's rough. It's very direct and brutal. He's not afraid to play dirty. Riven almost seems inexperienced compared to the other guys when it comes to technique and formal training, which suggests that Riven has likely been self-taught for the most part or lacks some private or selective education.

Incidentally, and this is more of a personal note, I think one of the primary reasons why Riven seems to always lose to Sky in one-on-one combat is because Sky has an edge over Riven when it comes to technique. But when it comes to other skills, like racing and wilderness survival instincts, Riven is better than Sky—the former being canon, as witnessed in 2.01. In spite of this, Riven feels a little insecure and bitter about not being as good as Sky. That lack of technique, coupled with a lack of opportunities, might be what he thinks is holding him back from being one of the best students in Red Fountain. The balcony scene in 2.04 is interesting in that regard because Riven appears to feel some type of way about the fact that Brandon and Sky were chosen to accompany the girls to a mission instead of him. He doesn't express it outright, per se, but you can tell by his tone and posture that he wishes he was included.

While the show deservedly gets a lot of criticism for its bad writing, season one is mostly decent in terms of character portrayals and has some of the best writing in the series. As I mentioned before, I think the writers were intentional with their decisions to paint Riven in a certain way, to have him say certain things, to give him certain skills that set him apart from the other characters, and in several ways, the narrative of his story gives us many details hinting at his background.

All in all, it's not strictly canon that Riven grew up financially lower class as we don't have any direct statements in the show about his background. However, I think there are more than enough allusions pointing to Riven having had to be independent and live in less-than-ideal circumstances with limited resources, so the idea of him having had a rough childhood (economically and otherwise) or being from the lower class at some point or another in his life is not unfounded. Personally, I think it's heavily implied.

#i'll try and add some more points later #winx club #winx #winx riven #winx meta #metas #riven meta #riven headcanons #winxmeta

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autumnblooms · 6 months

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Hold Me, Hand in Hand

My first Ghost fic, and it's MountainDew angst because of course it is. This is my attempt to expand on this post after I cranked out a full outline while very stoned last night. Turns out writing sober with actual sense takes a hell of a lot longer. Anyway, I didn't proofread much so go easy on me.

Cw: dermatillomania, anxiety, some blood, possibly incorrect Italian, Mount gets stuck in his head but Dew brings him out of it, 2.5k of hurt/comfort

Mountain feels it creep in slowly, so slow that he hardly realizes until he’s deep in it. The height of summer in July has left the Abbey grounds in a drought, the crunchy grass and oppressive heat keeping most ghouls and Siblings indoors. The ghoulettes have been trying their best to keep air moving through the halls of the Abbey, and Rain has hardly left his generously sized bath all week. That’s left Dew reveling in the sun’s energy alone, and Mountain using the last bit of energy he has avoiding him. Mountain can feel all too keenly through his magick the way the plants on the Abbey grounds wilt and die in the sun’s rays, and it’s left him feeling lethargic and in his own head.

That is how Dew finds him one day in late July. After hardly seeing anyone for days, Dew, in his boredom, had gone wandering out to the greenhouse to look for Mountain. He opened the door, helping himself in and calling a greeting to the earth ghoul.

“Hey sapling, whatcha up to…out here…” Dew trails off as his eyes find Mountain, sitting on a stool in the back by his workbench, eyes staring into the middle distance out the closest glass wall.

“Hmm…?” Mountain hums his acknowledgment of Dew, not moving his eyes from their spot.

“What, is a Sibling skinny dipping in the lake again? What’s out there more interesting than me?” Dew jokes as he walks closer to Mountain, looking out the greenhouse windows to try to determine what he was so entranced with. He looks back to the earth ghoul, confusion creasing his brow as he tilts his head to try to look in Mountain’s eyes. “Hello?” Dew eyes him up and down, and finally catches what his hands have been doing in his lap this whole time: Mountain’s left hand has been rhythmically digging and peeling at the skin of his right thumb. Dew can see bloody gashes already formed on the sides of at least four other fingers, all the way down to the second knuckle.

“Oh sapling,” Dew coos softly, changing his tune from joking to an attempt at soothing. “Hey baby, can you look at me?” The fire ghoul puts his hands over Mountain's, being careful not to add more heat to the already overheated ghoul. Dew looks closely at him now, noticing just how dull his complexion has become and how dry the skin of his hands feel. He slowly pulls Mountain’s hands apart and rubs soothing circles over the backs with his thumbs while he waits for the earth ghoul to come back to his element.

Mountain begins blinking his eyes, slowly at first, and Dew sees his attention drift back to reality from the middle distance. He turns his head towards Dew, and a few dry leaves drift out of his horns and fall to the floor of the greenhouse, joining a small pile that had already congregated there. Dew briefly wonders to himself how long the earth ghoul had been out here, stuck in his own head.

“Hey firelily” Mountain croaks, his voice sounding like dry kindling. “Sorry, I think I was somewhere else for a bit.” He smiles down at the smaller ghoul, feeling his skin stretching uncomfortably as sensation starts to come back to him. It’s at this point he notices the sharp pain in his fingers and flexes them experimentally in Dew’s hands, wincing as he does.

“Yeah, you really got yourself good this time sapling. Hold tight.” Dew places Mountain’s hands on his knees and stands up, looking for a clean rag and soaking it in the greenhouse tap. He returns to crouch down in front of Mountain who hasn’t moved, but Dew can feel the embarrassment radiating off him now that he’s fully back online and processing what had happened.

“You don’t have to do that Dew, I can get it” he mumbles as Dew starts washing the blood off his fingertips, trying to wipe his free hand on his apron before Dew can see the full damage. The fire ghoul grabs that hand too, tsking at him.

“Don’t do that big guy, you’re gonna get an infection. That apron’s as dirty as your work tables.” Dew knows that Mountain’s connection to his element is the only reason he hasn’t gotten an infection yet; the wounds on his hands never being left alone long enough to heal but that not being enough to stop Mountain from submerging his hands in soil daily. He hopes though that a little light ribbing might snap Mountain out of his guilt. Mountain cracks a half-hearted smile and allows Dew to finish his work, though if it’s out of true acceptance or a desire to just have this over with quickly Dew doesn’t know.

~~~~~~~~

Dew had gotten Mountain to join him back inside the Abbey after his hands had been cleaned and some water from the rag had been applied to his neck and face, not fully rehydrating the tired earth ghoul, but doing enough to give him the energy to walk back inside. Mountain didn’t feel like doing much, embarrassment from disappearing from his pack and being caught in a vulnerable moment still twisting in his stomach. But he knew it was getting late and Papa would be expecting them all for practice after dinner, and the anxiety of not doing what Papa expected was enough to get him moving.

Dinner went by in a bit of a haze, the sound of his pack teasing and laughing with each other becoming background noise. Even Rain seemed to be feeling back to his normal self, the day spent in the lake being enough to shake off the effects of the dry season. Mountain hangs his head over his food and hears a small voice in the back of his head tell him to get over himself, that he’s an earth ghoul not a water ghoul- if Rain’s not in pain he has no right to be either. The hand not holding his fork moves under the table, middle finger finding a rough edge on the thumb and resuming its rhythmic picking. Dew spies this movement from across the table, mid conversation with Swiss, but stays quiet and saves that information for later.

The pack finished up dinner not long after that, continuing their conversations as they cleaned up the table and filed out together to the practice room to meet Papa, who greeted them warmly with a “Hello my ghouls, so good to see you” as always. Aurora and Rain hug him as they pass, the rest giving a smile and a nod as they make their way to their instruments and begin tuning. Mountain sneaks behind the group to his kit while Papa is preoccupied with Aurora squeezing him around the middle, not wanting to taint practice with his moodiness. He sits himself down behind his kit and grabs two sticks from the holder, grimacing as he feels the skin on his fingers pull tight, the wounds he opened earlier in the morning keeping his fingers from bending far enough to wrap around the sticks in his usual grip. As though from a distance he hears Papa say he wants to do a full run through, and Dew kicks up the first few notes of “Kaisarion”. Mountain takes a deep breath and forces his fists to close as his count approaches. He makes it a little over a minute through however before the stick in his right hand goes flying backwards, his grip becoming weakened from pain. His packmates, ever the professionals, keep playing without missing a beat, but Mountain doesn’t miss the sideways glances of worry they give him. It’s not like Mountain to mess up, he’s been around too long for that.

Mountain slips a few more times after that, not quite throwing the stick again, but fumbling his notes as he attempts to play more in a more subdued fashion than normal. He grips harder, forcing his fingers to bend past the point his healing wounds wish him to go. He grimaces through the pain as he feels the torn skin open up again. Mountain tries his best to focus his attention on the beat and the familiar burn in his muscles instead. He somehow manages to make it to their first break before “Cirice”, and carefully peels his stiff fingers off his drumsticks, wincing as he sees the blood soaked into the wood. His attention is too focused on the sticks in his hands, however, to notice Papa approaching.

“How are you feeling, alberello? Are you alright? It’s not like you to drop sticks like that…” Copia trails off as his gaze moves down to the sticks laying on top Mountain’s snare, and sees the blood stains. Mountain jumps at his Papa’s voice and looks up at him with surprise, a knot of anxiety working its way into his chest. He doesn’t wait for the look of worry to finish creasing Copia’s brow, and he certainly doesn’t wait for the next question to leave his mouth before he’s scooping up the evidence, mumbling a quick apology, and running out of the practice room. Copia stands there in shock, watching the door close behind his earth ghoul as Dew comes up behind him, carefully setting down his guitar and putting a comforting hand on his Papa’s back.

“It’s alright Papa, it wasn’t you. This weather’s been tough on him. I’ll go get him, try to bring him back.” Copia shakes his head.

“No, take as much time as he needs. We’ll finish up here and end early. Just help him back to himself, lucciola.”

Dew gets lucky and guesses correctly the first time, assuming that Mountain’s room being the closest is where he’d go in his panic. He tests the door and finds it unlocked, so he lets himself in. Inside, the scene that greets him almost breaks his heart: Mountain, sitting cross legged on his bed, whole body shaking as he’s desperately trying to lick the blood off his own fingers, that thousand yard stare back in his eyes. Dew knows Mountain hasn’t registered his presence yet, not when he’s in that state, so he silently closes the door behind him and slips into Mountain’s bathroom, grabbing an empty snack bowl he finds on the way. Dew gives the bowl a quick rinse and fills it with the coldest water the tap can manage, grabs a washcloth, bandages, and antibac ointment, and heads back in to Mountain.

“Shhhh hey baby, you’re alright” he coos, sitting down cross legged in front of Mountain and carefully settling the bowl between them. He takes Mountain’s hands, just as he did earlier in the day, and dips them into the cool water, watching the earth ghoul’s face the whole time. Dew’s careful not to let his own hands in the water, not wanting to warm it any more than the blankets already will. He waits patiently, eyes never leaving Mountain’s face, whispering soft encouragement while he waits for Mountain to come back out of his head again. When the tears start welling at his eyes, Dew knows he’s back.

“There we are, hi sapling” he soothes, carefully setting the bowl on Mountain’s side table and wrapping his fingers in the washcloth. Mountain whines at the sweet words, hanging his head further, shoulders still shaking. “I know baby, I know. Just let me wrap you up and we’ll make you all better.” Mountain holds his hands a few inches above Dew’s lap and whines again, resting his head on the fire ghoul’s shoulder. Dew inspects the wounds, placing ointment on the worst cuts and counting how many bandages he’d need. “You’re doing great, big guy, almost done.”

“It hurts, Dew,” Mountain whispers.

“I know it does, baby. The ointment will help.”

“Not just my hands…my chest…my arms…” Mountain tries shaking out his arms to show what he means, pressing against their mental bond to explain what can’t come out in words. His anxiety is lingering, settling into his chest and arms like an insistent pressure that can only be released by shredding all the skin off his fingers. His tail comes up to his mouth and Mountain starts chewing; the longer he goes without picking, the more the pressure builds, and if Dew won’t let him pick then biting is the only way to release it.

“Hey, hey now, we’re not gonna do that. I don’t have enough band-aids, pebble” Dew says, quickly wrapping the last bandage and pulling Mountain’s tail from his mouth. The tears return to his eyes, this time out of frustration. “Shhh…I told you I’d help, let me help.” Dew runs his hands through Mountain’s hair, down his neck and over his back, kicking up the warmth in his hands now. Mountain shakes his arms again with another whine, trying to show Dew where he needs the warmth the most. Dew catches on, turning to lay down on his back with his head in Mountain’s pillows, bringing the bigger ghoul down with him to lay his head on his chest. Mountain latches onto him like a koala, wrapping his arms and legs around the smaller ghoul and burying his face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his comforting scent of woodfire and spice. His shaking subsides, low whines turning into purrs as Dew’s warm hands soothe over his arms and neck, fingers trailing across his face, and back down in a loop. “How you feeling pebble?”

“Mmmmm…better. Your hands feel nice” Mountain purrs. “Gotta get back though, Papa’s gonna be so pissed at me.”

“Papa’s ending practice early, he said take your time.” Mountain groans, burying his face further in Dew’s neck.

“Dammit…I didn’t want anyone to notice…”

“Baby, you fucked up ‘Rats’ and bled all over your sticks, they were gonna notice” he says, tickling Mountain’s sides to make sure he knows he’s being lighthearted. Mountain groans again, and Dew wraps him in a tight hug. “I know, I’m sorry. I should’ve helped you wrap your fingers before we left for practice. I just didn’t want to stress you out more by bringing it up.”

“ ‘S not your fault, firebug. My problem, I gotta deal.” Mountain mumbles.

“Hey, no look at me,” Dew tilts his chin up, leaning forward to look in his eyes. “That doesn’t mean it’s your fault either, or that you have to deal alone. We all get fucked up by the weather topside, your element just gets it a little worse. It’s not fair, but you’re strong. The Dark Lord wouldn’t have sent you up here if you couldn’t handle it. It will rain again, you will be yourself again, and we’ll all be here for you in the before and after. We love you, sapling. I love you. More than words can say.”

Mountain squeezes the smaller ghoul back, mindful of his hands. “I love you too, firelily. More than words can say.”

#I'll probably add to ao3 later #the band ghost #ghost fic #mountaindew #mountain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #tw: dermatillomania #nameless ghouls #ghost band #my fic

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