Whumper Emojis & Text

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B: I will need you to forget the. [pulls out a piece of device] Hold still while I activate my memory-erasin' device. A: Your what? B: [hits A with the pipe device on the head, making them faceplant; runs back inside, waving] See you, Mr. A. [door shuts, disappears] A: [gets up and groans, stumbles around] What happened? [walking on the road] How did I get here? [groans, rubs black eye] Huh?
TIRING TROPES A kicks B so hard, it knocks B out, who goes limp with a whimper. B now lying unconscious on the ground, A grabbing him by his legs and dragging him. A comes over to B, knocking him hard in the fac͘e once. B cries out and his eye rolls back as he slips away into unconsciousness, going limp, unable to take much more. The only thing C cares about is the sight of B limp bødy lying. C crawls over, too hurt̸ to walk, and puts his hand on his chest, wanting to make sure B is still breathing, scared he isn’t. He is relieved when his chest is still slowly going up and down, but is soon overtaken with fear. C: T-talk to me. B, say something! B of course not responding. C now holding him in his hands, his head restıng on his stߋmach, crying, wanting him to be okay, wanting to take his paın away from him. C: B... (sobbing quietly, his head still resting on B unmoving bødy) C is shushing, crying, shushing, crying. Doing it to comfort B but the more so to comfort himself, to try and not be so scared anymore. B eyebrows furrow, beginning to stir, groaning as he puts a hand to his head in paın. 'Ugh. Ow. Gah….ow….' C: (alarmed by B cries, scooching closer) Are you okay?! (C looking over at B, seeing he is already asleep, curling up next to him, closing his eyes, sleep now overcoming him) (A then kicks B in the head, B yelping, instantly falling unconscious) C: B? B! Answer me, are you okay?! A: (hearing C, smirking down at B unconscious form, to see him hur͘t and unmoving, B mouth hung open, lying motionless, still not movıng or aware) (B eventually groans awake, not yet realizing what’s going on, paın returning to his head, quickly becoming aware of what’s happened, sitting up with a gasp, looking around) B notices C still asleep leaning on him. He starts to move around to get him to wake up. (A just grabs B, slamming him back to the ground, unintentionally slamming the back of his head against the ground, B gasping with a yelp) : (A yanking B to his feet, grinning at B weak struggling and crying, who’s exhausted and badly hurt) (A stops as suddenly B lets out a sort of sigh as his eye rolls back and his body goes completely limp as he unexpectedly passes out, falling backwards, A catching him before he hits the ground, startled) (B completely unconscious, his mouth hanging open, limp and unmoving) (C stopping in his place, frozen, frightened at the sight of B) B! (seeing B still not moving or doing anything, touching and moving B face around himself, but gently, looking at him worriedly, scared when he won’t open his eye or say anything) H-he’s n- not moving, he-he’s not pretending, A, he is REALLY hurt! (A dumps B bødy to the ground) C immediately hurrying over, holding B bødy in his hands, his own tears falling down on him. C is still sitting besides B, crying C: B, s-say something, please, please! I’m sorry! (A grins, knowing how much will hate everything, planning to tell him all about it when he awakes again) B is lying on the ground unmoving. A pleased with everything as he walks away, knowing he will absolutely torture B with what happened here. B: (groaning loudly, waking up, not moving yet) Ugh…..wha? What’s going on? (he groans, his eye fluttering open, returning to his senses) C helping B sit up straight, holding him gently in his arms, seeing how badly hurt he is. B: (pain overflooding him, his head hurting badly, wincing as he holds it, still groggy, struggling to remember) Ugh, my head….Ow. Wh-what happened? (squinting his eye, looking all dazed and confused) H-huh? What? (A eyes B intensely) What? (still confused, but not liking the looks of A, turning to C for answers, now really confused and not liking any of this, wanting to have answers.) What is he staring about? (angry, wanting answers, glaring around) Well?! Tell me! (A chuckles wanting B himself to guess what happened) C not liking the fact that B is told about it now, this being even worse. B knowing enough by seeing this reaction. …..(B starts to get to his feet to attack A, swaying a little though, the pain instantly swarming his head, making him gasp and fall back before he could take a step, C quickly catching him. B holds his head in pain, wincing) Gah….. (shaking his head, unable to believe it, wanting to forget it, cringing) (snarling, quickly starts trying to get up, not able to, growling in frustration when he tries to stand but just falls right away, panting in anger) Rah…..! C: (still holding B, pushing him back down) D-don’t do it B! You’ll hurt yourself! Please… B: (still weakly trying, too angry) I-I don’t care! I-I’m gonna get you, A, as-as soon as I can! C: B-but you’re-you’re hurt! B: I DON’T CARE! (B too badly hurt to do anything more. He is crying because he is unable to, which makes him feel useless and weak, and also because he is very uncomfortable, cold and sad.) (C softly speaking to B coming over) B, what’s wrong? (For B it hurts just to move alone, so he struggles and can’t do it) (knowing he really can’t because of how hurt he is, just wanting to help because he knows how cold it gets here during the night) (he snaps, shivering again, wishing they would go away, not liking to be seen so vulnerable like this) C huddles close to B notices he isn’t talking to him anymore, poking gently at his cheek. B very much asleep by now; his clothes, the blanket and C close to him having warmed him up enough for him to relax, be warm and fall asleep. C stopping his crying, glad to see B is asleep, resting his head on him. He warily gets up, not wanting B to wake up again. He lays the blanket over his body, quickly going through hi lovingly, liking that he is sleeping now, thinking he very much deserves to rest. B however starting to stir, not sleeping quite so deep anymore.
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Why write such about comfort characters? as a way to express creativity a coping mechanism enjoy the friendship bonding side of it enjoy seeing characters being comforted and cared for after enjoy characters dealing with hard things it makes good story character development @ALYJACI
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୨୧ 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓰𝓲𝓻𝓵𝓼 ୨୧ 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 — 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐲 🍃📚 𝟭. 𝗽𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲. 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗺𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆, 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀. 𝗱𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗽𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 + 𝗮𝗹𝗽𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝗻-𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝟮. 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿/𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲. 𝟯. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺𝘀/𝗺𝗮𝗽𝘀/𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆𝘀, 𝗵𝗼𝘄𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿, 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 (𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁). 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗶𝘁. 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗺 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝗻-𝗱𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲. 𝟰. 𝗱𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘇𝗲. 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀, 𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲. 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗬 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗲. 𝟱. 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝘁𝘂𝗯𝗲 𝘃𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗼𝘀, 𝗱𝗼𝗰𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗲𝘁𝗰. 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗰 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲 𝗶𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗱 𝗮𝗿𝗴𝘂𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀. 𝟲. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆. 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴; 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗹𝘀, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗽𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱𝘄𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱, 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝘆 (𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗿/𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿), 𝗲𝘁𝗰. 𝟳. 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. 𝟴. 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 (𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲/𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻). 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 . 𝟵. 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗚𝗼𝗼𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗦𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗮𝗿, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗰𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀/𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗰𝗲𝘀. 𝗗𝗼 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗪𝗶𝗸𝗶𝗽𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗮. 𝟭𝟬. 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲-𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗼𝘀 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗱𝗱 𝗽𝗵𝗿𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲. 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱/𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸.
sᴍᴀʟʟ ᴄᴀᴘs, uʍop ǝpısdn, ⓑⓤⓑⓑⓛⓔ, ᙡᗩᐯᎩ, u̲n̲d̲e̲r̲l̲i̲n̲e̲d̲, c̶r̶o̶s̶s̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ , ґц$їfу, wide ᗩᑎᗪ ᑕOOᒪ.
The phrase “comfort character” is part of that pop culture landscape. What is a “comfort character”? Everything You Need to Know about Comfort Characters By: Author Marcel Iseli Posted on Last updated: April 18, 2023 What is a “comfort character”? A comfort character is a character in a fictional world, such as a TV show, movie, game, book, or comic, that a person strongly identifies with and takes comfort from. They may use thoughts of the comfort character to help them through hard times. The person will simply feel drawn toward the character. Even if you have never encountered the term before, you probably know this feeling of really liking or identifying with a character. When the person feels down, they could watch, read or play whatever this character appears in and then feel better after spending some time with the character. Strong identification with a character is another way a person may choose a comfort character. For example, maybe there is a main character in a movie who has a story arc that show them becoming a more confident person. Someone who identified with this comfort character might struggle with their confidence as well. When they were in situations where they lacked confidence, they could think about how this character handled similar situations. The concept of comfort characters is very popular in online fandom. “Fandom” refers to any community that arises around a piece of media, whether that’s a game, a popular show, a book, a comic or a movie. It’s a little bit different from simply being a fan of something. People involved in a fandom often belong to internet communities that talk about these characters a lot. They might attend meetups or conventions based around this fandom and dress up like the character. It’s also very common for them to create their own art around the stories that they love. For example, they might draw pictures of the character in various situations, or they might write new stories about adventures that the characters have beyond the scope of the original tale that they came from. In fact, you might find some accounts entirely devoted to comfort characters, sometimes called “stan accounts.” “Stan” is slang that refers to being a big fan of something or someone. How comfort characters help People report comfort characters helping them in very real ways in their lives. If they struggle with anxiety and panic attacks, thinking about their comfort character can often help stave off these feelings. There has been some research that shows that these characters can have a positive effect on fans, encouraging them to act in ways that are more beneficial for them. For most people, comfort characters are fun, beneficial ways to better enjoy the stories they love.
22/02/2011 The physical trauma disrupting the brain's proper working. The length of time a person is knocked out typically depends on the severity of the injury. Even dizziness can impede an individual’s ability to move around safely. You lose contact with the environment for a prolonged period of time. At at times oral suctioning to clean out built-up saliva they can’t swallow reflexively. Include some memories 'I remember when you made my laugh by ......' talking to them
X wasn’t quite sure whether to approach his wife, Y, about what he’d seen. On one hand, he didn’t want to distress her, but the weight on the other felt as if it were being crushed under the weight. Once he’d retreated inside, he clambered onto the first table he saw, rather than going off to find her. Alas, the peace barely lasted more than a few seconds. “X!” Y burst from the kitchen door, startling the other out of his thoughts. “It’s been a long day Y. I think I’ll…go to bed early tonight.” Letting out a huff, Y folded her arms, clearly less than amused. “And make me cover for you again? You were only gone for a couple of hours. Do you know how much hard work I put into running this place while you were gone?” X raised his brow. “What, did we just-so-happen to get an influx of customers today?” “That’s beside the point.” She dismissed the question with a flick of her wrist, rolling over to the table he was at. However, now that she could see his form more closely, his tense posture and partial absence from the conversation at hand became much clearer. “…X you look unusally reserved. What happened?” At first, she wasn’t graced with a response whatsoever. A hand reached down for the other, but X couldn’t bring himself to get up, so Y perceived his silence as disinterest and returned it to her side. Seeing him lack his usual energy made Y’s heart ache; she knew better than to go picking fights with X when he was like this. He couldn’t meet his wife’s stare, regardless of how much he longed to lose himself in her shine of her exterior. Having Y nearby always helped X feel at ease, yet it wasn’t doing much in terms of assisting him today. “Let's just…close early today altogether.” “You sure?” “I demand it.” It was a curiosity-peaking situation, but Y held enough respect for her husband X to not press him further. “You can always talk to me, sweetheart, but I’m happy to close for the day.” “Is that so?” X asked. Rather than adopting the powerful tone of voice he used while scheming, he maintained his quiet one, which rung alarm bells in Y. Since he’d been almost completely zoned out of his surroundings, her husband hadn’t noticed the shotglass-sized bowl of soup she’d made him, and as she brought it over to him, she could see a crack of a thankful smile on his face. Y never really got anything more from him - ‘thank you’s didn’t qualify for villain-approved manners - but to her, that only made his perseverance more admirable. “I’ll bear that in mind.” X’s response came out in a hushed whisper, as if the world were listening to every syllable that left his throat. Words sunk their nails into his throat, trying to claw their way out between sips of soup, but to no avail. X was determined to keep his promise. X was no less satisfied to have his wife at his side. X had needed Y today, and she pulled through, as always. An unwavering pride in his companion was always one of his biggest drives in life. To see her face at the end of a long day was no less than a blessing, and while he could have lived a crime-free life, he wouldn’t trade his current place of residence or love of his life. Y’s silent verdict was that it now wasn’t even worth considering pressing for details; her husband slowly becoming at ease as he revelled in the soup was enough for her to not want to rile him up. She’d already done so earlier with their argument. Had either of them actually apologised? What were they even talking about? “…Are you still interested in getting some rest early, honey?” A tired eye trailing over to her, he set down the empty bowl. X was practically screaming at himself not to leak it all out to his wife as either whimpers or whines. “Would that be alright, my sweet?” X found himself carefully scooped up in his wife’s hands and escorted to the restaurant’s back rooms. She gave him the thumbs up. “That’s fine. You can take all the time you need, X. You look like you need it.” “I should be working. You’re too soft on me.” “Would you prefer I picked a fight with you right now?” “No.” “Then don’t complain.” Thankfully, Y didn’t hit a nerve; either that, or X simply hadn’t the strength to argue. The former didn’t mind no matter the answer though. Whatever he’d seen would be better processed after some good rest, Y was positive. The chatter lingered until they reached their resting area. X finally felt he was home. “There.” His wife said, muttering to herself. It didn’t concern her that her self-muttering was within ear-shot of her husband, obviously. “I’ll go get your blanket.” “You’ve done an awful lot for me today. Do you want something?” X blinked. Usually, Y would scold him for saying something like that in response to her favours, but she processed that he asked as a gesture of kindness, not as an investigative question. She gently rested a silky face flannel over him for a little warmth. “Just know I love you. That’s all I want in return.” “Th…ank. You.” …!!!! Today was a mish-mash of weird circumstances, but the marriage of the two beings was just as unconventional. For a moment, the duo were lost in each-other’s eyes. Those two words - as messy as they’d come out - were bouncing off the walls and striking Y in her equivalent of a spine, pushing her a little closer to her husband until they were equal-viewing level. Poor Y thought of going to melt from the sudden increase of her internal temperature. Such tenderness; it made her swoon! Until he’d said it, he’d had no idea how long she’d been wanting to hear something like that. Something other than X’s plans The significantly taller leaned her monitor forward, as if to kiss him- but drew back. Now wasn’t the right time for something like that. Not when X had so much already on his mind. Oh, but those words had been so soft, so quaint. Though she’d stopped herself giving him a robotic kiss, Y savoured every second that they stood mere inches apart, that little bit of kindness holding a value to her that she was sure X had no idea of. He couldn’t feel the sparks of electricity rushing through her. X might not have any inkling at ALL that she cared in regards to what he said, nevermind the fact she felt like an exception happily caught in his network. Although, they must have at least meant something for him to attempt to say it, even if he’d become exhausted and drained from the last few hours. It was enough for her to let out a “Never a problem; supporting you is my job,” before adding on “but don’t you dare hold that against me when I refuse to wash the dishes.” The quip earned a stifled chuckle from her lover. It broke a little of the tension between them, but in a light, easy-to-digest way. As Y had leaned in, X had felt his heart pump a little faster, and a jittery feeling in his veins - a trace of something he hadn’t felt in a while. X could only wonder if she took anything away from that small exchange, barring the reminder of her duties. Did she feel anything or was it just him? He wasn’t even sure if she had a positive physical response, let alone a positive emotional response… “No promises!” He laughed, before awkwardly coughing, unsure what to say now. That was one loooong period of silence. Was the restaurant owner just supposed to pretend nothing happened, or approach the topic? “Well- If you want to transfer yourself back into the building’s wall monitor for the night, there is no opposition here.” “That sounds nice. It’s how I imagine wrapping yourself in a blanket feels.” Y let out a sound emulating a yawn, hoping to dispel the sudden subdued awkwardness that’d washed over her husband. His feathery laugh had been much different to his more maniacal cackles. Far more genuine and fulfilled, and smooth. On one hand, seeing his mind off of the schemes for once made her want to spin with glee, but on the other, he was only acting so unusually because something had gone down. It was difficult for her to handle. “Based on how you describe it, of course.” If she could have given a true smile, Y would have, but gave upturned lips instead. X was pretty much at a loss for words, understanding her point and unable to refute it. Some part of X wished his wife had come with him, purely so he wouldn’t have to carry the burden of decisions alone as he was doing now. ‘Twas a selfish thought, and alas, X knew he had a word to keep. “Have a nice rest, sweetie. I’ll keep an eye out for any intruders.” “Hope your wall monitor is comfy.” “I’m sure it will be.” X curled himself up under the face flannel, his eyelid gently fluttering shut. “You mean a lot to me Y so don’t ever think you don’t, understand?” “Understood. Care to elaborate?” … “Honey?” … “X?” Snore. “…Ah.”
@candaru no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to over exert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest. I'm doing this for their own good. October 21st, 2023, 7:43 AM
ᵂᵒʳˢᵗ ᴱⁿᵉᵐʸ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 𝟗𝟑𝟎 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ .ೃ࿐ 𝚃𝚠: 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉ ʳᵉᵗʳᵉᵃᵗ; ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ‧ "ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴵ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ʷᵉ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵐᵉ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ? ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ; ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ˢʸᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ!" ᴹʳ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ "ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ!" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵗʰᵘᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʳᵃᶜᵏˢ; ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵗʰ‧ "ᴼʰ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ˢʰᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵃᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉⁿ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵏʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ˢᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵉˡˡ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?" ᴺᵒ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵃᵗˢᵒᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵉˡᵖ ⁱˢ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ‧" "ᴰⁱᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʳⁱˢᵏ ᵇʳᵃⁱⁿ ᵈᵃᵐᵃᵍᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃˢᵗʰᵐᵃ⸴ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢᵉ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ; ᴵ'ᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘⁿᵈᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵒⁿⁿⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᵐᵖᵃᵗʰʸ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ⁱⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃⁿⁿᵒᵘⁿᶜᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃʷˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ˡᵒᵒᵏ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵃᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ?" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿˢ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉᵃᵏᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵘᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ˢᵖˡⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢʰⁱᵖ‧ "ᴬˢˢᵘᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ'ˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᶠᵘʳᵗʰᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃⁿˣⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵘⁿᵃʷᵃʳᵉ‧ "ᴵ ᵐⁱˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵐʸ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᶜᵒⁿˢᵘᵐᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵃʷᵏʷᵃʳᵈˡʸ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ‧ "ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵒᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵃⁿᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ᶠᵘⁿⁿʸ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵉᵉʳˢ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵒᵇ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᔆʰᵒʷ 'ᵉᵐ ʷʰᵒ'ᵈ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ʷᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ‧ "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵐʸ ᵐᵒⁿᵉʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐʸ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˢ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ˡⁱᵐᵇᵒˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ⸴ ᵉʸᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢʰᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵃʳᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ' ᵃⁿᵈ 'ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ' ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵏᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʷᵃˢ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᵉʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵉᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵉᑫᵘⁱᵖᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˡᵉˢˢ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵃⁿᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧ "ᴬᵘ‧‧‧" ᔆⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵐⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ?" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ?" ᴬˢᵏᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ‧ ᴹᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵃʳʳᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ "ᶜʰⁱᶜᵏᵉⁿ" ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵒʳᵐᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵉᵐʸ‧ "ᴵ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧"
hurt/comfort (fandom slang) A genre of fan fiction in which a character receives comfort from another after or while suffering injury, illness, or a traumatic experience. H/C stories appeal to readers in different ways. While genres for these stories range from drama to mystery, many stories are classified by their authors as romances or as “hurt/comfort” stories. Hurt/comfort is a fanwork genre that involves the physical pain or emotional distress of one character, who is cared for by another character. A great trope if you want to bring two characters closer together, or if you want to show how deep their relationship goes.
https://writingwithcycyborg.blogspot.com/2024/02/LanguageOfDisability.html
Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc) panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc) keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media) trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc) sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”) whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that) clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes) writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone) crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout) dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing) wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing) doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves) heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting) gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold) murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain) hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in) stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk) staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!) recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help) pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop) Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!
ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴬ ʰᵒᵗ⁻ᵃⁱʳ ᵇᵃˡˡᵒᵒⁿ‽" ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵇʸ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ⸴ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ‧ "ᴹᵃʸ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ? ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ? ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶜᵉʳⁿᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵒʸ!" ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ˢᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵘˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗʰᵘᵐᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ ᵘⁿᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ⸴ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵒᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳʸ‧ "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ˢᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃˡˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵒ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵃⁱᵈ ⁿᵒ ʰᵉᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᶜʳᵃʷˡᵉᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ‧ "ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ 'ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ' ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴺᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵘⁿᵗ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵃˢ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉⁿᵍᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴳʳᵘⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵉʰᵉⁿᵈ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒ‧ "ᵂʰ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʷᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ'ˢ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʰᵘʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵇᵃʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵃᵍᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴼʰ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵈⁱᶻᶻⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉˢ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜᵒⁿᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ/ᵈⁱˢᵒʳⁱᵉⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ⁱⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ‧‧‧ ᴵ'ᵐ⸴ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ "ᴬʰ⸴ ᵒʷ‧‧ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ‽" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ˢⁿᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴸᵉᵃⁿ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁱᵗ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡʸ ᵍʳᵉʷ ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵛᵘˡⁿᵉʳᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉᵃʳʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵈᵒ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳᵉᵈ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ!" ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ʷᵉᵃᵏⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃˢᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵈᵒ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵈⁱˢᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ?" "ᴳᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˡᵃˣ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃⁿ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶻⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃˢ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡᵐᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗᵘ ⁿᵃᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ⸴ ᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵃ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᴵ ʷᵃˢ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᴵ ʳᵉᵖᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇʸ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ʷʰʸ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃʸ‧ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ'ᵐ ʳᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉᵈ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴶᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗʳʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵈ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵉˢˢ!"
Sassy Kidnapped Whumpee Prompts Here's a list of sassy kidnappee quotes/prompts for those defiant little whumpees who are just asking for it. Enjoy! (Shoutout to @prisonerwhump for the idea!!!) "Oof, big scary spEEch. Nıce. Did you practice that in front of the mirror this mornıng?" "Are these new ropes? I hope you didn't go to the trouble just for me, you know I don't judge." "Ah. Blindfolds again. How original." "Okay, I'm awake. You can make your entrance nơw. [...] Don't play dumb, I know that's a two-way mirror. Let's just get it over with." "You know, I always assumed if I were kidnapped it would be some creepy st*lker yandere thing, but no. I get you instead. That's better, right? So...Thank you? I think? Ah, that's a kn1fe." "Listen, I know you're tryıng to be intimidating and everything - and normally it would be. Really, I mean͡ it. Chocking me against the wall is real scary, but... Like. Your hands are so soft, I can't even take you serıously. What kind of lotion do you use?" "Not to critique you when you're doing your zappy thíng, but you had better up the voltage or something before I fałł asleep. I get bored eąsįly." " "How much did that hurt̸"? Really? Like, I mean. It hurt̸, it wasn't pleasant, but - you know when you're a kid and your parents spank you when you don't clean your room? Yeah, that hâppeñed to me a lot as a kid. I felt really ba͏d making her get after me because she was alwaყs sick͞ and frail and stuff. Anyway, the point I'm trying to makę here is my MoM hits harder than you. Does that answer your question?" "Wow, what an impressive collection. Very daunting. Very scary. Just checking, but you do have a life outsıde of collecting tortur͘e implements, right? I don't judge, but I'm a little worried about you." "All you want to know is where Caretaker is. Honestly, you could ask a few questions about me first. You don't even know my fav0rite color yet." "Geez, you can at least buy me dınner before chocking me out." "Are you sure you know how to use that? I don't know, man. Maybe you should let me t̢ry it on you to make͘ sure. Just untie me real quick." "Mmm yes! Harder! Please hit me harder! Oh, I'm sorrყ. Am I makıng you uncomfortable? No no, don't stop hitting me now." "Loving the 'dark scary basement' vibes. Really, this lev3l of design takes time. The lightbulb is even flickering - did you plan that? It's honestly impressive. That or you're just this much of a slob. Either way, very effective." "Oooooo! I've always wanted my own dungeon cell. Can I put movıe posters on the walls? I think they would really spice the place up. Do you have any extra sticky tack?" "Really? You bought me for that low of a prıce? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll never see that much money in my entire life, but I think I'm worth more than that. I mean͡, look at me. I'm adorable." "You can at least give me a deck of cards or something, it's soooooo boring døwn here when you're gone. Not that it's better when you're here. Hm? No no, not because of the paın or whatever, you're just still boring. Really, if I had as much money as you, I could buy a personality." "Ah, the whip again. Let me ask, do you ever have a͝ny new ıdeas or do you just find one and let it play like a brok3n record until you dıe?" "Honestly I'm starting to get genuinely concerned about your hearing. I sAID I'm. Not. Telling. You. Anything. Do I need to talk louder? Maybe write it out̸ for you? Ow! Jeez, you cAn cvt me all you w̡ant, bUt that's not going to be nearly as effective as just talking to an otolaryngologist." "You call that a hit? Untie me quick and I'll show you how it's døne." "Gooooooooooooodevening, Kidn@ppers! How are you today? How was work. Did you đrınk enough water? How was - oh my, you look angry. Is it something I said?" “How do you sleep at nıght??? No seriously, your skın is so clear, you have to have some fantastic skincare routine before bed. And. Like. A great pi]low.” “Do you have to stand so close when you’re threatening me? I get it, but…brush your teeth or something first.” “Ah yes. Gruel. My favorite. You have to get me the recipe sometime. You’re a culinary genius.” "You knøw, I'm stɑrtıng to feel kinda bad. Here I am having all the fun, and you're doing all the work. How about you untie me and then you get a tu̴rǹ in the chair? Doesn't that sound nice?" “Better untie me then. Oh, you’re going to hand feed me? Isn’t that swéet. I didn’t know you were a big old softie.” "I can't believe you. You're a monster. Blαck shoes with a blue suit? Are you kidding me? Ridiculøus. No wonder you don't mind getting my b!ood all over your outfit, it's awful already." "I'm kında gettin͘g bored of all the screaming, how about you?" "This seems like a waste. Did you know the błoođ banks are all runnıng low? It's like. A national crisis. People could dıe. Yet here you are letting all my perfectly good błoođ go to waste. If you're so insistent on being slicy today, maybe you could like put a drip pan or something on the ground. You think they'd take drip pan błoođ? You do keep that kn*fe clean, right?" “Well someone’s cranky today. What? Didn’t get your morning coffee?” “You’re ‘Tired of all my jabbering’? Really? Well that’s kinda self centered of you. Just think about me. I have to lıve with me every minute of every day. And do I ever get a b͞reak? No. Never bored though, so that’s nice.” "What exactly do you mean by 'scream for you'? I have like seven different types of screams." "I'm sorrყ, I don't thınk I heard you the fırst 478 times. What was it you wanteԀ again? Hm. Nope. Still not clicking. You better aSK AgAIN." "Just a real quick questıon - do you have...like...friends? A significant other maybe? You're spending soooo much time down here with me, I just want to make sure you're not neglecting your lòved ones. No?"
EMOTIONALLY BONDING WITH A FICTIONAL CHARACTER? THERE’S A TERM FOR THAT: ‘COMFORT CHARACTERS’ Just because they're not real doesn't mean that they can't be a source of consolation or contentment. SEPTEMBER 21, 2021 KAREN LU, YALE UNIVERSITY 8 MINS READ If you have even a toe in the door of fandom (any fandom, really), you have probably come across the term “comfort character.” The term is everywhere: in Buzzfeed quizzes, Twitter imagines, dozens of Spotify playlists and Instagram fanposts. Like the name implies, it’s a fictional character in pop culture and media that people find comfort in, either through identifying with them or wishing to hang out with them like a best friend. For some, comfort characters are so real that even just thinking about them, rewatching their scenes, reading fan fictions or otherwise engaging with them can help stave off anxiety attacks, calm down during panic episodes, or simply provide a hand to hold on to during difficult times. The typical comfort character might be someone fierce and protective of their friends, passionate about their ambitions and goals, or struggling with inner demons. Usually, they have characteristics that are easy to relate to or be inspired by. Or, it can be completely random — there’s no requisite in what makes a comfort character. It might be the plucky main protagonist, the tortured antihero or an innocuous supporting character. Whether they’re conquering a villain, avenging a fallen friend, or simply being happy, people find warmth in following along in their journey or seeing them smile in the face of their own tragedy. Comfort characters exist in part because many people don’t have parents, friends or other social resources that they can talk to or truly open up with. Studies have also shown how comfort characters can actually inspire and improve people. Researchers from Ohio State University coined the phenomenon “experience-taking,” in which people take the emotions from a story for their own. The researchers found that — albeit temporarily and in the right situations — readers could make real changes in their own lives. For instance, the researchers found that people became more likely to vote in a real election after strongly identifying with a fictional character who themselves overcame obstacles to vote. In the long run, comfort characters are simply a part of enjoying a show and finding pleasure in media and fiction.
A could still remember it as if it were yesterday. The day A had officially stomped away from his best friend B. A remembered it clearly. The look on the his friend B’s face stood out in his memory. The pure look of betrayal, the one that still occasionally popped up in his dreams, begging for him to turn around. That one. He found it once again haunting his mind as he stirred in his sleep and shot up like a rocket, ready to scream sorry, only to realize that it was all still a dream. A sniffed coldly and glimpses around, remembering how his home had been demolished mere hours earlier. Everything. A gave up everything, and what did he have to show for it? Even his wife that he bickered with had left him. Sure, it was on good terms, and part of A was happy for her, as she held the hand of her new lover and stared down at him, void of any emotion. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled, and then turn and left. When she had returned they sat down and talked about it for what felt like hours. She hugged A close as if he were a child, but still, nothing. They never had any sparks between them, and for a long while, that was okay. But with the two of them rapidly aging, she decided it was now or never that she found herself a new start. With a bittersweet goodbye this time she left for good. Slowly, he lifted a piece of rubble into his arms and threw it over himself in hopes of keeping warm. Of course, the metal only worsened the situation, so in despair, he glanced up yet again and peered around before he spotted a book. Grimacing, A stood up and stared to drag the paperback over to where he had been curled up previously, preparing to shield both himself. A whined in impatience, his eye caught sight of the ripped sheet and he dropped it entirely, staring down the old photo. It was of him and B. In the photo, A sat with a cheerful grin on the other’s shoulder, smiling as if he were the happiest boy in the world. Smiling fondly at the memory, he decided it was true. He certainly was the happiest boy alive back then. A didn’t realize he was crying until teardrops stained the page. It had been years since he had last skimmed through the pages of his old scrapbook, and it brought the memories from long ago back into the front of his head. Truly, he found himself closing his eye and begging for another chance under his breath; when he opened it, he found himself staring up at his rival B with shock. B leaned down and held out his hand. A naturally recoiled at the memory of the many times he was thrown about by those same hands. Frowning, he stared up at the the man as if he hadn’t just been sobbing over his photo. “What do you want?” He spat out, his malice sounding weaker than usual. He told himself it was the cold doing it to him. Right away, his old friend gently wrapped his claw around him and lifted him up. “A, it’s below freezing and you’ve no place to sleep,” he reasoned quietly, shamefully, “please, come stay with me.” “I was doing fine where I was.” It was a weak lie, but being in the hold of the other again rendered him soft, and he didn’t want B to see that. He squirmed out of the other’s hold and back onto the hard ground. “A...” B muttered sadly, before his eyes flickered over the photo that was now covering the other’s shivering body, his eyes peeking up gleefully. “You...you kept this photo? After so many years?” A sighed and pulled the photo tighter over him, ignoring the words. He obviously had kept the photo, after all. What else was he supposed to say? The man took notice of the book laying face down as well, gingerly lifting it up and instantly releasing a chuckle. “Oh, I remember this...” he smiled fondly and once again held out his hand for his old comrade. “Please, A... I can’t stand to see you so helpless.” A huffed and crossed his arms. While he wanted desperately to go to B’s warm home, he couldn’t help but leave his defenses up. “Then look away.” B did just that, and A found himself actually afraid of the other walking away. He wanted to call out to him, but he didn’t have to. The other turned back around and started to pull out his wallet. Right away, A shivered. The idea of B of all people giving him money was something he could barely stand to witness. He turned his head and waited, but instead of a dollar, B handed him a photo. A couldn’t believe it. The same photo that was tightly held around his body for some sort of warmth was carefully displayed in his wallet, which was easily his most prized possession. “B.” A couldn’t help but feel his eye fill up with tears. A really didn’t want to cry—not here in the cold, not now with his rival in front of him— but he couldn’t hold back the tears that slid down his cheek. “How long have you...” he couldn’t even finish his sentence, he was choking up so bad. B held out his hand one last time, and with a gentle smile, A tenderly stepped into it, who nervously boarded the hand. With his free hand, B put away his photo and wallet and lifted the other book into his arms, safely sliding his old friend A into his front shirt pocket. A couldn’t help but feel vulnerable. B could easily flick him away at any point he wanted, but he knew that he wouldn’t. As B carried the dozing A home, he found himself growing tired. A sniffled slightly as he was tucked in as if her were a child by his friend, a tender smile lined on his face. A didn’t know what would come tomorrow. He had lost his home, his job, his wife, his livelihood. But still, somehow, he had dug up his estranged relationship and revived it and found the friend he had missed for so long. Once the light was flicked off, A gingerly stepped out hopped onto the larger man’s bed, sneaking back with only a pillow from the bed. He yawned and grinned as a hand tenderly found the back of his head and nuzzled it gently. “I’ve missed this.” Was all A could muster up in the darkness, his eye trembling shut. “I’ve missed you.” B just hummed in contentment and swallowed hard. “Me too, buddy, me too.”
A: "Heeey, what gives?! Argh! ... ... Wh-what the...?" A felt odd all of a sudden, his vision began to blur before he fully realized what was happening to him. A fell to the ground as he lost consciousness. A began to feel tired after eating before drifting to a very deep sleep. His wife, B, noticed A’s unnatural time to fall asleep and tried to wake him back up, but to no avail. For she found him lying down after a while. B: "*gasp* A, what happened to you?!" A: "... … wording... wording..." B picked the sleeping A up with a hand and carried him back. She softly rested him down on a table, and decided to extract some fluid from A. B then started to perform some tests on the fluid to see what was in it. She knew for a fact her husband wouldn't just fall asleep in the middle of the day like that. All she could really do was wait for her husband A to wake up.
27/07/19 at 4:01pm Fevers and feverish characters. I’m all about the qualitative descriptions, not the quantitative. I don’t need or want to know the character’s exact temperature, and in any event if the character isn’t human who knows how high their fever runs? The nice thing about fever is that it’s a nearly universal symptom, and even living machines could overheat and feel feverish if unwell. All sorts of creatures can feel weak, sweaty and flushed, just barely staying upright. Characters trying to tough it out and plow through it, but anyone can tell that they’ve seen better days. Fever is wonderful because it’s one of those symptoms that demands that the character rest. Sniffles and sneezing are easy to brush off, even a bad cough can be ignored. But swaying on your feet with sweat running down your back, damp locks of hair framing the face– someone is bound to notice that. “You look flushed… goodness you’re burning up!” “You can’t go outside in this weather running a fever.” “You have to stop working and that’s final. I’m not going to have you collapsing on the job.” “Why are you so wearing so many clothes? It’s not cold in here. You look awful.” Fever has a flexible degree of debilitation, from the slightly feverish character who just needs a little rest and TLC all the way up to the deliriously feverish character who is bound to reveal too much. You can knock the character out and lay them low, have them babble some dark secret and/or their true feelings for their caretaker, or they can enjoy a fluffy moment of being coddled. Maybe both, if their illness is progressive! And the caretaking paraphernalia: lots of cool beverages, cool damp towels on the brow, fever-reducing medicines [tonics, coolant, potions, nothing at all, depending on setting]. Keeping the character away from drafts, and draping a light blanket over them. Not too warm, but enough to keep them from being chilled.
twhumper 05/08/19 at 3:56pm Not gonna lie, I’m a total sucker for a usually prickly standoffish person becoming an absolute touch-starved sweetheart when exceptionally ill. I know it’s a cliche and a total trope, but I love it. Like they’re usually colder than the arctic, they won’t let their teammates/coworkers die/fail, but they don’t really talk to them in a casual context or interact beyond that. Any attempt to do so by someone else is just met with a brick wall of resistance. So when the caretaker finds them sicker than a dog, fever spiking, they’re expecting a worse version of that. Instead they get trembling hands grasping the hem of their shirt, a raspy barely there voice begging them to stay, and soft pleading whimpers when they try to detangle their limbs from the other. They get stuck caring for this poor much too warm being who just simply can no longer accept existence without the comfort of another person around. Bonus points if the sickee ends up babbling not realizing they are or not realizing who they’re telling. Especially if old injuries are mentioned. Extra bonus points if the whole time the sickee thinks they’re a person who’s no longer around. Maybe someone they were close to, but who’s no longer around. And then there’s fever nightmare potential and you literally just cannot go wrong with that to be honest. Crying out in their sleep, tears, the panicked rising and falling of their chest. The little tremors that course through them after they wake up. The shakes which turn into heaving sobs that sound much too big for them, the ones that steal their already weak breath away sending them straight into a coughing fit. The caretaker pulling them close to themselves, petting their hair, trying desperately to keep their voice even as they encouragingly whisper, ‘you’re okay now. You’re safe. Breathe.’ The sickee in the end tries to return to their normal routine, but the caretaker never treats them the same.
➡️ Content warnings on fiction are a courtesy. ➡️ Not every medium of fiction and storytelling has or is expected to have content warnings or extensive tagging. ➡️ Print novels do not traditionally warn for content in any way. ➡️ Fanfiction did not traditionally warn̵ for content in any significant way. ➡️ An author is only obligated to warn̵ for content to the degree mandated by the format they publish their fiction on. ➡️ Content warnings beyond the minimum are a courtesy, not an obligation. ➡️ 'Creator chose not to warn' is a valid tag authors are allowed to use on. It means there could be anything in there and you have accepted the rısk. 'May contain peanuts!' ➡️ Writers are allowed to use 'Creator chose not to warn' for any reason, including to maintain surprise and avoįd spoilers. ➡️ 'Creator chose not to warn' is not the same thing as 'no archive warnings apply'. ➡️ It is your responsibility to protect yourself and close a book, or hit the back button if you find something in fiction that you're reading that upsets you. ➡️ You are responsible for protecting yourself from fiction that causes you discomforts.
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allthewhumpygoodness: I write a lot of fantasy/Medieval whump, so in that vein lets talk Things Low-Tech/Medieval/Fantasy Healers Might Do When Checking A Sick Patient That Don’t Require Modern Medical Equipment Or Terminology But Gives The Vibe That They Know What They’re Doing: Feel their pulse (in the wrist, the side of their neck, or even a temple) Check their forehead for a fever Listen to their chest/back (you can hear rattling or crackling in the lungs of someone with a lung infection such as bronchitis or pneumonia) Tapping their back behind each lung (likewise - an inflamed lung will sound congested and less hollow than a healthy one) Feel for swollen glands behind their ears Gently feel for any swelling or tightness along their stomach On that note, gently pressing on an are of pain in the stomach area (to test for appendicitis) Get them to open their mouth to look down their throat Check their eyes for redness, light sensitivity, yellowing, or dilated pupils Check them for a rash, especially the torso, behind the ears, and along their forehead (measles rash usually starts near the ears and along the hairline, scarlet fever begins on the trunk and spreads to the rest of the body; chicken pox I think just sort of appears all over though idk) Check if their skin is flushed or jaundiced Tap along their cheekbones - if this causes pain they may have a sinus infection I’m not a medical professional and this is ONLY for writing purposes, also this is all based on a variety of medical information I’ve read in books and online but as I said I am not a professional just someone with a weird obsession, feel free to fact check me - or add your own
~ yes my favorite type of fanfiction consists of characters getting tenderly cared for and comforted after a lifetime of being forced to suffer alone in silence, no this doesn't say anything about me
SLEEPING WHUMPEES leyswhumpdump: Sleeping whumpees. Curled up on cold cell floors, seeking the only escape they can get. Eyes red behind their closed lids because they cried themselves to sleep. Tucked up under warm blankets. Cradled by a caretaker. Peaceful and smiling even in slumber, or screaming from night terrors. Restless from fever. Exhausted in the back of a car, their mind and body just given out. Falling asleep after fighting it for so long. Just an adorable trope all round.
i-write-whump When the whumpee wakes up in pain, and doesn’t remember what happened or how they got there, so the caretaker has to explain everything to them slowly and carefully, because the whumpee is still pretty out of it. The caretaker gently stroking the whumpee’s hair as they talk, hugging them as soon as they’re done explaining, and answering any questions the whumpee has. The caretaker tucking them in tighter and offering them water, then making sure they’re as comfortable as possible, and that they’re resting, knowing that the whumpee may still be too out of it to actually remember any of their conversation, but content to explain everything again if needed.
whumpster-dumpster Personality Changes When Sick Reserved whumpees getting all needy and clingy ❤️ Clingy whumpees getting real grumpy and distant ❤️ Stoic whumpees getting melancholy and nostalgic ❤️ Boisterous whumpees getting lethargic and withdrawn ❤️ Grouchy whumpees becoming soft-spoken and sweet ❤️ Fragile whumpees proving that they can tough it out ❤️ Tough whumpees finally admitting they’re miserable ❤️ Night owl whumpees crashing in the middle of the day ❤️ Early bird whumpees sleeping straight through to noon ❤️
PrinceJustice237 • 2y ago As a fan of hurt/comfort/whump, I realised that I put my favourite characters through so much because I want to see their friends comfort them and help them through the aftermath. It’s good old fashioned catharsis, plus drama is just entertaining. A pure, fluffy, happy story where nothing bad happens works great for a oneshot but it’s harder to sustain 20+ chapters of that, you need drama and conflict and that requires stakes. That usually involve someone suffering to some degree.
• 2y ago Honestly, a huge reason why I torment my favorites is so that when the comfort comes along (because it always does in my case), their friends/found family can show them how much they are loved.
prospectkiss Sleepy intimacy is one of my favorite things, and I think the last point is why - it’s all about trust. Trusting someone enough to let your guard down. To lower your defenses. To be vulnerable. That kind of trust is not always given easily, which is what makes sleepy intimacy so heartwarming.
whumpster-dumpster: A whumpee stirring from a deep, medicine-induced sleep to the sound of muffled voices. Trying to pry their eyes open to see who it is but their resolve is too weak, their eyelids too heavy. Their head lolls sideways on the pillow as they draw a slow, sluggish breath, mumbling unintelligibly. Where am I? What’s happening? Their mouth won’t properly form the words. The voices pause, hesitate, and then a warm hand is stroking their face and hair. “No, no…shhhh. Shh, it’s alright. It’s nothing,” a soothing voice whispers, lulling them back down. “Go back to sleep.”
Kazeto Elementalist from somewhere in Europe. Since: Feb, 2011 Relationship Status: Coming soon to theaters #7: Apr 20th 2016 at 1:55:59 PM I cannot talk about others, but I actually took the opening post in much the same way as you'd explained that you meant it in this one, and I presume that they, or at least some of them, took it much the same. It's not about seeing the character beat up and dying. It's not about seeing the character miserable. But it is about seeing the character have bad things inflicted upon them and yet overcoming them, learning from them, being shaped by them. Because the sweet parts do not taste all that sweet (relatively speaking) if you've never had anything but sweet things. And I am no sadist either, but I too have my characters go through some quite bad stuff. Not necessarily as horrific as what they pulled in Berserk, no, but in many cases the stuff that happens dismantles who the characters are before letting them piece themselves back.
People read dark fiction for the same reason they ride roller coasters. It’s a simulation of danger without anyone actually being under threat. It gets the brain worked up, releases a bunch of adrenaline into your system, you experience a whole rush of emotions and excitement and fear; but a safe kind of fear, where you know the danger isn’t real and there are dozens of measures in place to protect you. And then it’s over and you can get off the ride. That doesn’t mean everyone is obligated to ride roller coasters. I, for example, am scared of heights, and most coasters are scary for me in a way that isn’t fun. The fear isn’t that I’ll die, the fear is of experiencing more of the ride and thus it’s not a safe fear, because it’s real and I have no control over it. As such, I don’t ride large roller coasters. But the fact that large coasters are not mentally or emotionally safe for me to ride doesn’t mean they should be illegal, or that there’s “something wrong” with anyone who enjoys them. Similarly, sometimes accidents happen. Sometimes people have conditions they don’t know about until a coaster aggravates them in the worst possible way because they didn’t know to avoid it…and that’s no one’s fault. People have died or been injured in coaster accidents, and those accidents are pretty much always the result of human error, carelessness, laziness, or poor communication. It’s the responsibility of the amusement park to make sure that basic safety features are built-in and maintained–or at the very least (mangling the metaphor somewhat because this would obviously be illegal in real life) to make it clear that those features don’t exist! I feel like most people would avoid a ride clearly labelled “HAS NEVER HAD A SAFETY INSPECTION! NO RESTRAINT BARS! RIDE STAFF HAVE NOT BEEN TRAINED AND THERE ARE NO EMERGENCY SERVICES ON-SITE! OPEN FLAMES!” but if you click on a fic clearly labelled “author chose not to use warnings” you know the risks and they’ve met their obligation to warn you of them. And sometimes the people providing this content don’t perform that basic due diligence, and people get hurt as a result–but that’s on those specific bad actors, and doesn’t mean we ban all roller coasters. It also doesn’t mean every single ride operator on earth should be tarred with that brush, especially when they’ve openly spoken out against such practices! Furthermore, if you KNOW you have a heart condition and willingly get on a ride that says it is not safe for people with heart conditions, you cannot then blame the amusement park! What makes roller coasters safe for me? Well, for one, the fact that I’m an adult now so my family has finally stopped trying to force me onto them.
“I can fix him” “I can make him worse” well I can ruin his life for the sake of character development
My pageant has a pageant platform essay. What’s that? Contributed by Eddia Watts A pageant platform essay is a paper in which you speak about exactly what you’ve been working on with your platform and what you have chosen to champion throughout your time as a competitor. The pageant platform essay is apart of the competition in which a contestant can validate, in writing, why she chose the specific cause she has. The essay is your moment to talk about every single intricacy that is apart of your platform. If during the competition you never have a chance to speak about your platform, the essay needs to cover every single thing about your platform so that the judges have a semblance of what you have stood for thus far in your pageant journey. The pageant platform essay should encase topics like, how you created your platform, what caused you to choose this specific platform, how you have advocated for it, and how you will continue to advocate for it. Although the pageant essay is not imperative for some systems, like Miss Earth USA or Miss USA, it is imperative for systems such as Miss America and Miss Teen, creating an essay is a great exercise for all contestants to ensure that they know the direction that they want to go in for their platform. Writing what you have done, what you will do, and what has made you continue to keep going is a great way to remain humble and realize why you began in the first place. If you find that writing worries you, as long as you write from the heart and mean every word you say, you will find yourself writing too long of an essay. If writing an essay is required, it will also force you to think about the specific ways that you plan to bring your cause to a resolution. Having this in mind will help you to answer your interview questions easier as well as give you the proper mindset of why you embarked upon your platform. Writing a pageant platform may seem like a tremendous amount of work, but the next section covers exactly how you want to write your platform essay and what you can include to differentiate your essay from the next! Okay, how do I write a pageant platform essay? Contributed by Eddia Watts Writing your pageant platform essay may seem daunting at first, but always keep in mind the fundamentals of writing an essay: the introduction, body paragraphs, and conclusion. When you break down your essay like this, it makes writing your essay a bit easier. In the sections below, we will take the time to illustrate these sections of your essay as well as what tone your writing should take on when you talk about your platform. Introduction The introduction to your essay should begin with an explanation of who you are and what your platform is. In your introduction, there is no need to delve into the why or the how of your platform just yet. If you decide to delve straight in with your story in the introductory paragraph, you risk overwhelming your judges. In your introduction, you want to entice your judges by reading more. The last sentence of your introduction should read like a thesis statement for a paper. It’s when you finally tell the judges what your platform is. Body Paragraphs Your body paragraphs are where you really delve into who you are as a person and why you chose your platform. In this section of your essay, you should have at least three paragraphs, the first illustrating the backstory behind why you chose your platform. This is your moment to speak on your ‘why’. The second paragraph of your essay should be the ‘how’. In this paragraph, you should talk about how you have pursued your platform and how you have begun to tackle the issue your championing. This is your time to speak about all of the fundraisers, events, and charity work you have done to further your platform. The third paragraph is your moment to speak about how your platform can affect those in your community and those for whom you created your platform to help. You should also speak about what you will be doing with your platform in the future and how you hope your platform will impact those in the next generations. Covering your bases like this will not only help you to seal the deal with your judges, but it will help to make an impact with others should you decide to post your speech online. Conclusion Like every essay, your conclusion should touch upon everything you mentioned throughout your essay. This is not the time to enter in last minute additional information, as the judges will have already formed an opinion of your essay by now. When writing your conclusion, you want to make sure that you use a proper tone that makes it sound like you are concluding your essay. Tone It is important to have a splash of personality and professionalism throughout the tone of your essay, as you want the judges to take you seriously, but you do not want your words to bore them as well. Using proper punctuation when needed, ensuring that you are not using run-on sentences, and proper word usage can all help with your tone. The best essays are written when it feels like the contestant is actually speaking to the judge in a polite manner with her personality all on the table; just like in an interview. Once you have the proper tone and diction down, your essay will write itself! In conclusion, writing a pageant platform essay is just like writing an essay for class. You are just telling a completely different story. As long as you stay true to who you are as a person and have your platform take center stage, you will write an amazing essay!
Reunion after (physical) tr4uma prompts tws apply: grief/fear for someone’s life, mention of injuries, unconsciousness, hospıtals, comas, mention of involuntary drugging. that’s the general vibe. WORDS “Theeeere you are. Hi. Welcome back.” “Breathe. Hi, we found you, just breathe for me, okay?” “This is going to hurt̸, but it will help you.” “You’re safe. [Name], can you hear me? They’re here to help you, you need to let them help you.” “I found them, they’re over here!” “Does anyone have medical training?” “N.. no, no, no, no, hey. [Name]? Hi, I’ve got you.” “You can sleep, [name]. It’s over.” “I’ll still be here when you wake up.” “You were in an induced coma. Your bødy went through a lot.” “I wasn’t –… Your doctors weren’t sure you’d wake up.” “[Name]? Was that - did you squeeze my hand?” “It’s okay. It’s meant to be there, it’s helping you breathe.” “Can you hear me?” “You.. you were so close to dying. I was scared.” ACTIONS [ GATHER ] for sender to gather receiver’s (unconscious) bødy into their arms, in the style of no no no not them. [ STARING ] for sender to find receiver sitting alonȩ staring at a wall, covered in bløød, and to to͠uch their arm. [ WAITING ] for sender to be waiting at receiver’s hospıtal bedside when receiver finally comes out of a coma, or wakes from surgery. [ STEADY ] for sender to catch or steady receiver when receiver tries to stand up too early or to push their bødy past what it’s ready for [ TEARS ] for receiver to find tears on sender’s face, when they’re finally reunited (either immediately after the trauma, or waking up in a hospıtal), because sender thought receiver was dead or dying [ GRIEF ] for receiver to wake up just as sender is saying goodbye, because the doctors told them to. feel free to specify what they might be saying. do not judge me, this is going in the meme [ LETTER ] for sender to find a last letter, video, text, etc that receiver made for them, thinking they wouldn’t make it out of the situation alįve. Obviously receiver does make it out alįve, but the letter/video still exists (and receiver will detail what’s in it). [ FIGHT ] for receiving muse to not recognize sender or medical staff trying to help them, due to being drugged or otherwise disoriented – so they fight.
I think the reason sick whump hold such a special place in my heart is that, relatively speaking, you don’t see it that often in canon media? Like, characters being injured in books/films/tv is pretty standard I’d say. Maybe not to the detailed whumpy levels we’d all like it to be, but if I think about it pretty much every character I’ve viewed as a potential whumpee has actually suffered some form of injury or another (often more than once) within their respective media. But illness? You just don’t see it as often. And I’m not sure why - but I’d guess probably because it tends to leave characters in a stagnant state; an injury can be attained while Actively Doing Something Plot Relevant, so even if the aftercare is shown offscreen [ugh], the actual Getting Hurt part can be part of the plot - whereas sickness holds focus on a character within that state of infirmity, and most mainstream audiences would probably see it as uninteresting to watch or read. So when it comes to imagining my faves being hurt, well, it’s still great but I likely have already seen them hurt within whatever media they’re a part of. But imagining them being sick…now that requires some more imagination on my part. There’s a ~mystique~ to it. It feels like a more personal show of the character’s vulnerability because it likely hasn’t actually been shown before, so it’s like a little secret that I get to figure out on my own.
whumpberry-cookie Platonic love between Caretaker and Whumpee: Cuddling/sleeping next to eachother in very natural, not romantic way. Lying on the bed, watching the ceiling and having a deep talk about their dreams for the future. Or even little funny fights in their sleep like pulling the blanket. "Ey, take that foot out of my face, stinky!" "Oh? But it's where it's supposed to be. Don't like that?" "I'M TELLING ON YOU TO LEADER!!" Seeing the other in "borrowed" clothes and not even saying a word about it, because they switch clothes so often. (Giving the other a jumper cause they're cold/wet) Knowing eachother's facial expressions so well they can tell the other is upset/overwhealmed when no one else notices it. "Whumpee, what were you trying to say? I didn't catch that in the conversation" / "What about changing the topic now?" Both of them being sincerely surprised if someone asks them if they're together. "With Caretaker? Ah, haha, no! They're a big brother! Why? Do YOU wanna hit on them? You'll need to go through my vibe check first. Pray you pass it." Communication skills worked out, because they know eachother for so longg!! "Are you mad at me...?" "...I'm- really hecking frustrated, partly because I'm hungry and tıred. I need some space now and we'll figure it out later, okay?" Not pushing the other to confess their traumas from the past. Your secrets are yours to decide if you want to share them and when. I don't need to know everything. (W:) "...you don't seem surprised by what I said" (C:) "Yeah... I kinda figured it long ago. I just didn't want to bring it up until you're ready" ----------------------
are they really your comfort character if you don’t want to catch them after they get shot, bridal carry their injur3d b0dy into a h0spital while screaming for help, and then stroke their hair as they lie unconscious after surgery?
caretaker assuring whumpee that they’re safe now. the hard part is over. maybe whumpee’s fever has finally broken. they’re soaked through with sweat, blinking wearily back to lucidity, and caretaker rocks them in their arms. “there you are,” caretaker cries. “welcome back. it’s okay. you’re okay.” maybe whumpee is out of surgery and waking up in a hospital. caretaker sits by their bedside, holding their hand and pressing kisses to their forehead. “you’re safe, whumpee, you’re in the hospital. it’s all okay. you’re safe now.” maybe whumpee’s bleeding has finally stopped. caretaker leans back on their haunches, exhausted, hands bloodstained. “i think it’s over,” they tell whumpee with a soft smile, tucking whumpee’s hair behind their ear. “look at that, i think you’re gonna be just fine.” maybe whumpee has just been removed from a perilous situation. caretaker refuses to leave their side— hugging them close, rubbing their back. “i’m here, i’m here, whumpee. i won’t let anything hurt you again. you can rest now. you’re safe.”
Losing consciousness eyes are so good. Fluttering eyelids. Eyes going out of focus before they close. Eyes meeting with those of the whumpee or the carer, wide with pain and fear, before rolling back. ~
𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝒊 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒐 𝒊 𝒕𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒚 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅. 𝒔𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒊 𝒄𝒂𝒏'𝒕 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒎 𝒕𝒐 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒓, 𝒊 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒊 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒂 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒗𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒔 𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒆𝒓 𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 a poeticseraphime original ♡
characters: *refuse to talk about their feelings* me: how about I b͞reak your legs and drvg one of you with vivid hallvcin4tions and strand you in the woods? will you talk about your feelings then?
"Honey, wake up," Karen said gently. Her voice was the sweet sound of a lullaby echoing through the silent, sterile room, but Plankton remained unresponsive. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor was the only reply to her soft pleas. She sat by his side, her hand intertwined with his, her thumb brushing the back of his palm. But now, his hand lay limp, a stark contrast to the warmth and strength it usually exuded. The antiseptic smell of the hospital filled the air, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a cold, artificial glow on Plankton's pale face. His chest rose and fell with each shallow breath, and the rhythm was the only reassurance Karen had that he was still with her. The doctor had said it was a mild concussion, but the sight of him lying there, so vulnerable, filled her with dread. She knew that she had to stay strong, not just for herself, but for Plankton. The door to the room creaked open, and the doctor stepped in, his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. He was a young man, his expression a mix of professionalism and concern. He looked at the charts in his hand before glancing up at Karen. "How is he?" he asked. Karen's eyes never left her husband's face as she replied, "The same." The doctor nodded, his eye reflecting the seriousness of the situation. "It's not uncommon for someone with a concussion to sleep longer than usual. We're monitoring him closely, and his vitals are stable. We've given him medication to manage the pain and reduce the swelling." Karen leaned forward, her grip on Plankton's hand tightening. "But when will he wake up?" she asked, her voice a whisper of hope. The doctor's eyes softened. "It could be hours, or even days. The brain needs time to heal. But rest assured, Mrs. Plankton, we're doing everything we can to ensure a swift and full recovery." Karen nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She didn't want to believe it would take that long, but she knew that patience was the only option she had. She leaned back in the chair, her eyes never leaving Plankton's face. Time stretched out before her, each minute feeling like an eternity. The only sounds in the room were the tick of the clock on the wall and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor. The hospital's white walls closed in around her, making her feel trapped in a world where time had ceased to have meaning. Her thoughts raced, playing out every possible scenario in her head, each one more alarming than the last. A nurse came in to check on Plankton, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She offered Karen a kind smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder before she tended to her husband, checking his bandages and administering fluids through the IV. Karen watched her every move, feeling helpless and out of place. The nurse noticed her distress and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted with a nod of gratitude. The warm liquid helped soothe her nerves as she took a sip, her eyes never straying from Plankton. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling heavier than the last. The silence was broken only by the occasional murmur from the hallway or the rustle of pages as the nurse updated his chart. Karen's mind drifted back to the moments before the accident, the laughter and the joy that seemed so distant now. Plankton had been working on his latest invention, a contraption he swore would revolutionize the fast-food industry. It was a wild tangle of metal and wires, something that only he could understand. Karen had watched him, her curiosity piqued but her technical knowledge barely scratching the surface of his genius. "What does it do?" she had asked, her eyes wide with wonder. He had grinned, his teeth gleaming in the light of the makeshift workshop. "It's a secret," he had said, his voice filled with mischief. Now, as she sat by his side in the hospital room, she wished she had paid more attention. Perhaps then she could have anticipated the malfunction that had sent him to the emergency room with a concussion. Plankton had always been so driven by his ideas, so wrapped up in his world of gadgets and gizmos, that he often forgot the dangers that came with his experiments. It was his passion, and she had always admired it, but in moments like these, she couldn't help but worry. The room grew dimmer as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor. Karen's eyes grew heavy, and she fought the urge to sleep. Suddenly, Plankton's eyelid fluttered open, revealing eye that searched the room with confusion. "Where am I?" he croaked, his voice dry and scratchy. Karen's heart leaped into her throat, and she leaned forward, her hand tightening around his. "You're in the hospital, sweetie. You had an accident," she said softly, her voice trembling. Plankton blinked several times, his gaze shifting from the blurry ceiling to Karen's face. Recognition dawned in his eyes, but confusion remained etched on his furrowed brow. "What happened?" he murmured, his voice still weak and groggy. Karen's heart swelled with relief at the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath, then explained the accident as calmly as she could. "You fell while working on your latest invention. You hit your head pretty hard. The doctor said it's just a concussion, but you need to rest." Plankton's eyes searched hers, trying to piece together the puzzle of his foggy memory. "A concussion?" he repeated, his voice a mere whisper. "How long have I been out?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her knuckles white. "A few hours, darling. But it's going to be okay." She hoped her words were true, that the fear and doubt didn't seep through. Plankton's gaze was unfocused, his thoughts jumbled. He didn't remember the accident, the pain, or the panic that had brought him here. All he knew was the gentle squeeze of her hand and the sterile scent of the hospital room. As he began to sit up, a wave of dizziness washed over him. Karen's other hand shot out to steady him, her eyes filled with concern. "Lie back down, Plankton. You need to rest." He obeyed, his head heavy on the pillow, and his eye fell shut again. The doctor had warned her about the potential side effects of the concussion: confusion, dizziness, and memory loss. It was a strange sight, seeing him so unsure of himself, a stark contrast to the usual confidence that radiated from him. When he opened his eye again, the confusion had deepened. "What's the last thing you remember?" Karen asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's eye searched the room, as if the answer was hidden in the shadows. "I... I don't remember," he said, his voice filled with a sense of panic that was alien to him. "It's all blank." Karen felt a chill run down her spine. The doctor had mentioned that amnesia was a possibility, but she hadn't allowed herself to believe it would happen to Plankton. "It's okay," she assured him, her voice shaky. Plankton's eye searched hers, desperation flickering in their depths. "What do you mean, I don't remember?" Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of anxiety brewing within her. "Sometimes with concussions, memories can be a bit jumbled. But don't worry, they'll come back to you." She hoped her reassurance sounded more convincing than it felt. The doctor had warned her that the road to recovery might be bumpy, but she had never anticipated Plankton's memory loss. Her mind raced, trying to think of ways to help him, to fill in the blanks without overwhelming him. "Do you remember anything at all?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton's eye searched the room again, as if the answer was hiding in the corners. "I remember... I remember working," he said, his voice trailing off. "But it's all... fuzzy." Karen felt a pang of sadness at the lost look on her husband's face. She didn't know how to navigate this new, uncharted territory. But she knew she had to be strong for him. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, stroking his forehead with the back of her hand. "You just need to rest." The doctor had instructed her to keep the environment calm and familiar to aid in his recovery. So, she began to speak in soothing tones, telling him stories of their past adventures. Her words painted a picture of a life filled with love and adventure, and she watched as his face relaxed with each passing moment. His breathing grew steadier, his chest rising and falling in a more natural rhythm. The hospital room was a cocoon of beige and white, the only color coming from the bouquet of flowers she had brought from home. Plankton's chest rose and fell in the rhythm of deep sleep, his breathing steady and even. The heart monitor beeped reassuringly, a metronome to the symphony of his rest. His face was peaceful, free from the tension that had gripped it earlier. She felt a weight lift from her shoulders as she realized the immediate danger had passed. For now, at least, he was safe, and she was grateful for every moment of his peaceful rest. She knew the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for now, she was content to sit by his side and enjoy the quiet.
one of the most significant misconceptions i fear some people have about whump is that it’s sadism. For a lot of us, it’s masochist. I can’t speak for everyone in the whump community, but for myself and most of the people i’ve interacted with, we’re empathising with the whumpee, not the whumper. We’re experiencing second- hand their paın and catharsis, and also (my favourite part) the concern and care they receive from others but like… i can totally imagine what it would look like for outsiders coming across our blogs where we consistently fantasise about our favourite characters in absolute agony lol
Don’t you hate it when someone borrows your favorite pen and doesn’t give it back?🙄🖊️
whumpster-dumpster Ways To Carry Your Whumpee™: - Cradled in Caretaker’s arms, head heavy against their shoulder (good for exhausted whumpees who shouldn’t be woken) - Over Caretaker’s shoulder, arms swinging limply with every movement (good for when they need to escape fast) - Under one of Caretaker’s arms like a piece of luggage (good for stubborn whumpees who need to accept tough love) - On Caretaker’s back, arms wrapped around their neck with as much strength as they can muster (good for Smol Whumpee and Tol Caretaker) - With one arm around Caretaker’s neck, leaning more and more heavily on them by the minute (good for dragging Caretaker down too in a collapse) Feel free to add on!
henshengs Tbh I think fandom generally needs to get better at sitting with the uncomfortable fact that a story/fanwork/meme/whatever can hurt one person and help another sensicalabsurdities This is why I think “tag warning” culture is kinder and more constructive than cancel culture / “no problematic content” culture. One size does not fit all, but if we learn to be more aware of the fact that the same thing can be emotionally validating or cathartic to one person and upsetting to another, and pick up a general mindset of thinking before we post, “what might people need a heads up for in this content?”, we grow more compassionate, more thoughtful, and more understanding of the differences in people’s experiences.
Summary: Nick müssen ein paar seiner Weisheitszähne entfernt werden. Er traut sich aber nicht zum Arzt zu gehen, bevor Charlie ihn nicht ermutigt. Auf dem Weg nach Hause sagt Nick unter Medikamenteneinfluss ein paar Dinge, die er sich normalerweise vielleicht nochmal überlegt hätte. Wisdom Teeth – Weisheitszähne mj_s98 :2024-10-31 Words:533 „Willst du gar nichts essen?“, fragte Charlie etwas überrascht, als er abends mit Nick auf dem Sofa saß, die Hand in einer Chipstüte. Nick zwang sich ein Lächeln auf. „Nein, ich hab ein bisschen Zahnschmerzen …“ „Oh … warst du schon beim Zahnarzt?“, fragte der brünette, junge Mann etwas besorgt. Das ließ Nick aufstöhnen. „Ja, letztens, nach der Uni … Der Zahnarzt meinte, zwei meiner Weisheitszähne seien kaputt und müssten raus! Ich hab da echt keine Lust drauf …“ „Naja, aber die Schmerzen sind ja auch nicht so toll, oder?“ „Ja, ich schätze, du hast recht … Montag rufe ich mal an …“ Zu Nicks Leidwesen – oder Glück, wie Charlie es sagen würde – hatte der Zahnarzt noch relativ kurzfristig einen Termin frei und konnte dem jungen Mann schon am Dienstag die Weisheitszähne entfernen. Und so saß Nick zusammen mit seinem Freund dort um Wartezimmer, seine Hand haltend. „Das wird schon“, versuchte Charlie ihn aufzumuntern. Nicks Knie wippte nervös auf und ab. „Ja, natürlich … Zahnärzte sind einfach … nicht gerade meine Lieblingsärzte …“ Da musste Charlie schmunzeln. „Du magst gar keine Ärzte!“ Plötzlich kam eine junge Frau ins Wartezimmer und rief Nicks Namen auf. Dieser zuckte kurz zusammen, warf Charlie noch einen verzweifelten Blick zu, stand dann aber auf. Charlie lächelte ihn an. „Ich warte hier auf dich. Viel Glück.“ Nicht allzu lange Zeit später saßen die beiden jungen Männer in Charlies Auto. Nick lehnte erschöpft an der Tür, als sein Freund kurz den Blick von der Straße abwandte um herüberzusehen. „Geht’s dir gut?“, fragte er mit einem kleinen Grinsen. Nick gab einen undeutlichen Laut von sich, murmelte dann aber: „Mir geht’s gut. So entspannt war ich lange nicht …! Äh … wie lange brauchen wir nach Hause …?“ „So circa 20 Minuten.“ „Ok …“ Dann sagte Nick ein paar Minuten gar nichts mehr. Die leise Musik war neben dem Motorengeräusch das Einzige, was zu hören war, als der Rothaarige sich zu Charlie drehte. „Du bist so wunderschön …“, flüsterte er verträumt. Das Licht der untergehenden Sonne ließ Charlies Locken in einem warmen Orange erstrahlen. „Deine Haare … wie ein Heiligenschein!“ Charlies Wangen liefen rot an. „Danke, aber das sagst du nur, weil die Medikamente noch wirken …“ „Nein …! Du bist so ein toller Mensch … Wann sind wir zu Hause?“ Bei dem plötzlichen Themenwechsel musste der brünette, junge Mann laut Lachen. „Ähm … mittlerweile nur noch 15 Minuten!“ Als die beiden schließlich zu Hause ankamen, stieg Charlie aus und eilte auf die Beifahrerseite, bevor Nick es überhaupt geschafft hatte sich abzuschnallen. Charlie öffnete die Tür und half seinem Freund behutsam aufzustehen. Dieser schwankte etwas, fing sich aber schnell wieder. Charlie achtete darauf, dass sein Griff um Nicks Arm fest war, bevor er langsam mit ihm zur Haustür ging. Nicks Hände umklammerten Charlies Arm noch fester. „Danke, dass du mich gefahren hast. Und da warst. Ich … liebe dich …“ Amüsiert schüttelte Charlie den Kopf. „Ich dich auch. Aber wir sollten dich auf dem Sofa platzieren, bevor du die Treppe nicht mehr hochkommst, also los! Wir haben schon so viel deiner Energie verplempert.“ Nick lächelte ihn an, als würde er ihn verehren. „Sicher …“ Vermutlich tat er das auch. Nicht, dass es Charlie anders ging. Er konnte nur hoffen, dass es den beiden für immer so gehen würde. Aber da war er guter Dinge … Notes: Die letzte Geschichte (endlich)! Vielen Dank an alle, die diese und vielleicht auch die anderen gelesen haben :) das erste Mal hier auf Deutsch was hochzuladen war etwas nervenaufreibend, besonders, da das hier nicht gerade mein Lieblingswhumptober war ;D aber egal, ich hoffe, es hat trotzdem manchen Leuten gefallen! Danke an die Menschen, die so fleißig gelesen und auch kommentiert haben 🤗
ᔆᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ pt. 2 ⤥ 𝐂𝐖:𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝟎𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵇᵃˡᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢᵗᵉᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶠˡᵒᵒʳ ᵈᵃᶻᵉᵈ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵈ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃᶻᵉ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵘᵗ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ?" "ᴵ'ᵐ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵍᵒᵗ ʷᵃʳᵐᵉᵈ ʰᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶠᵒʳ‧ "ᴮᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ?" "ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ!" ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʳᵒᵗᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ "ᴹʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ʳᵘᵇ ᵐᵃˢˢᵃᵍᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ‧‧‧" ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ʷʳⁱᵍᵍˡᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢ ᵈʳᵒʷˢⁱˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆⁱⁿᶜᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵈᵃʳᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵒᵇᵇˡʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱˢᵗᵘʳᵇ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵐⁱᵈⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢⁿᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵉᵈᵍᵉ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ʰᵉ ᵇᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵖᵉⁿˢᵉʳ ʷᵃˢ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷᵃˢ⸴ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵇʳᵘⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳˢᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴼᵖᵉⁿ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰᵉᵈ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵒᵇˡⁱᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵗᵘᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵐᵒᵘⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵖⁱᶜᵏˡᵉˢ‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃˢˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵒʷᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵒˡᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵉ! ᴵ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵐⁱˢˢ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᴳᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵖᵏⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗᵃᵏᵉⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱᵐ! ᵀʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃʷᵃⁱᵗᵉᵈ ᵈᵃʸ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ‧ "ᵂʰᵒ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵉʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ?" ᵀʰᵉ ᶜˡⁱⁿⁱᶜⁱᵃⁿ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇˡᵘⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵘᵐᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵃ ˡᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷᵃˢ ˢᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ End finale
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January 5, 2016 Wow the Iliad is really good actually, totally epic: The Iliad By Homer, Written 800 BC Book I Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another. And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant’s wreath and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs. “Sons of Atreus,” he cried, “and all other Achaeans, may the gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove.” On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. “Old man,” said he, “let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home, busying herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not provoke me or it shall be the worse for you.” The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went by the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne. “Hear me,” he cried, “O god of the silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Danaans.” Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He came down furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning. For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people, but upon the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly- moved thereto by Juno, who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes and had compassion upon them. Then, when they were got together, he rose and spoke among them. “Son of Atreus,” said he, “I deem that we should now turn roving home if we would escape destruction, for we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once. Let us ask some priest or prophet, or some reader of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove) who can tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so angry, and say whether it is for some vow that we have broken, or hecatomb that we have not offered, and whether he will accept the savour of lambs and goats without blemish, so as to take away the plague from us.” With these words he sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor, wisest of augurs, who knew things past present and to come, rose to speak. He it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius, through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo had inspired him. With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them thus:- “Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me tell you about the anger of King Apollo, I will therefore do so; but consider first and swear that you will stand by me heartily in word and deed, for I know that I shall offend one who rules the Argives with might, to whom all the Achaeans are in subjection. A plain man cannot stand against the anger of a king, who if he swallow his displeasure now, will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it. Consider, therefore, whether or no you will protect me.” And Achilles answered, “Fear not, but speak as it is borne in upon you from heaven, for by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, and whose oracles you reveal to us, not a Danaan at our ships shall lay his hand upon you, while I yet live to look upon the face of the earth- no, not though you name Agamemnon himself, who is by far the foremost of the Achaeans.” Thereon the seer spoke boldly. “The god,” he said, “is angry neither about vow nor hecatomb, but for his priest’s sake, whom Agamemnon has dishonoured, in that he would not free his daughter nor take a ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils upon us, and will yet send others. He will not deliver the Danaans from this pestilence till Agamemnon has restored the girl without fee or ransom to her father, and has sent a holy hecatomb to Chryse. Thus we may perhaps appease him.” With these words he sat down, and Agamemnon rose in anger. His heart was black with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he scowled on Calchas and said, “Seer of evil, you never yet prophesied smooth things concerning me, but have ever loved to foretell that which was evil. You have brought me neither comfort nor performance; and now you come seeing among Danaans, and saying that Apollo has plagued us because I would not take a ransom for this girl, the daughter of Chryses. I have set my heart on keeping her in my own house, for I love her better even than my own wife Clytemnestra, whose peer she is alike in form and feature, in understanding and accomplishments. Still I will give her up if I must, for I would have the people live, not die; but you must find me a prize instead, or I alone among the Argives shall be without one. This is not well; for you behold, all of you, that my prize is to go elsewhither.” And Achilles answered, “Most noble son of Atreus, covetous beyond all mankind, how shall the Achaeans find you another prize? We have no common store from which to take one. Those we took from the cities have been awarded; we cannot disallow the awards that have been made already. Give this girl, therefore, to the god, and if ever Jove grants us to sack the city of Troy we will requite you three and fourfold.” Then Agamemnon said, “Achilles, valiant though you be, you shall not thus outwit me. You shall not overreach and you shall not persuade me. Are you to keep your own prize, while I sit tamely under my loss and give up the girl at your bidding? Let the Achaeans find me a prize in fair exchange to my liking, or I will come and take your own, or that of Ajax or of Ulysses; and he to whomsoever I may come shall rue my coming. But of this we will take thought hereafter; for the present, let us draw a ship into the sea, and find a crew for her expressly; let us put a hecatomb on board, and let us send Chryseis also; further, let some chief man among us be in command, either Ajax, or Idomeneus, or yourself, son of Peleus, mighty warrior that you are, that we may offer sacrifice and appease the the anger of the god.” Achilles scowled at him and answered, “You are steeped in insolence and lust of gain. With what heart can any of the Achaeans do your bidding, either on foray or in open fighting? I came not warring here for any ill the Trojans had done me. I have no quarrel with them. They have not raided my cattle nor my horses, nor cut down my harvests on the rich plains of Phthia; for between me and them there is a great space, both mountain and sounding sea. We have followed you, Sir Insolence! for your pleasure, not ours- to gain satisfaction from the Trojans for your shameless self and for Menelaus. You forget this, and threaten to rob me of the prize for which I have toiled, and which the sons of the Achaeans have given me. Never when the Achaeans sack any rich city of the Trojans do I receive so good a prize as you do, though it is my hands that do the better part of the fighting. When the sharing comes, your share is far the largest, and I, forsooth, must go back to my ships, take what I can get and be thankful, when my labour of fighting is done. Now, therefore, I shall go back to Phthia; it will be much better for me to return home with my ships, for I will not stay here dishonoured to gather gold and substance for you.” And Agamemnon answered, “Fly if you will, I shall make you no prayers to stay you. I have others here who will do me honour, and above all Jove, the lord of counsel. There is no king here so hateful to me as you are, for you are ever quarrelsome and ill affected. What though you be brave? Was it not heaven that made you so? Go home, then, with your ships and comrades to lord it over the Myrmidons. I care neither for you nor for your anger; and thus will I do: since Phoebus Apollo is taking Chryseis from me, I shall send her with my ship and my followers, but I shall come to your tent and take your own prize Briseis, that you may learn how much stronger I am than you are, and that another may fear to set himself up as equal or comparable with me.” The son of Peleus was furious, and his heart within his shaggy breast was divided whether to draw his sword, push the others aside, and kill the son of Atreus, or to restrain himself and check his anger. While he was thus in two minds, and was drawing his mighty sword from its scabbard, Minerva came down from heaven (for Juno had sent her in the love she bore to them both), and seized…
https://prostorybuilders.com/writing-characters-who-are-unconscious/
Please no d£ath threats to ppl who make fanfic thx and have a nice day
Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.
ᔆⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴼⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰʳᵉʷ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵖᵖˡⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵒᵏ ᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᶠ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ‧ ᔆᵉᶜᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵐᵉᶜʰᵃⁿⁱˢᵐ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ˢˡⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ˢᵗʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵛᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ‧ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶠⁱʳˢᵗ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵇˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍⁿᵉˢˢ⸴ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵘⁿᶠᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠʳᵒᶻᵉ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵃᵗᵘˢ ʰⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵇᵉᵃᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳʷⁱˢᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵏⁿᵒʷˡᵉᵈᵍᵉ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃˢ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷᵉʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᵗʳᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗˢ ˡⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢˡⁱᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ! "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵒᵐᵉ‧‧" ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃ' ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠˡⁱⁿᶜʰ ᵒʳ ˢʰᵒʷ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᵃᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵒᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʳᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴹᵉᵃⁿʷʰⁱˡᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᶜʰᵃᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴵ'ᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ! ᴼʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵃʳᵉ ʰᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ᵃˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘʳᵗ‽ ᔆᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐᵘˢᵗ'ᵛᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?" ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᵐᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᶜᵃⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵉˣᵃᵐⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵈᵒ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ʷᵃᵍ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵃⁱˡ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁱʳ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵃᵖ‧ "ᴴᵉˡˡᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉˡʸ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵐᵖʳᵒᵛᵉ! ᵂᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" ᵀʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʷᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵈᵒᵖᵗᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁱᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵉʳᵍʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉ ⁿᵒʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʸᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ ᵃˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ'ˢ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵉᵃᵍᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˡⁱᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵃˢᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵉˣᶜⁱᵗᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐⁱˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" ᶜᵒᵃˣᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵘᵈᵍᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗ ᵈⁱʳᵉᶜᵗˡʸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵒʷˡʸ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵗᵒ‧ ⱽⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇˡᵘʳʳʸ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ˡⁱᶠᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ "ᴹᵐ‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᵁᵒʸ⸴ ʷʰᵃ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ‧‧" ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵍʳᵒᵍᵍʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᴼᵘ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ‧ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ; ᵍᵃʰ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂʰᵃ⸴ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ'ᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶻⁱᵖ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ; ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ‧" ᴬⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧ "ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˢᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗʳᵒᵏᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ‧ ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ ᵗᵒ ˢⁱᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘᵖʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵃⁿᵃᵍᵉᵈ‧ "ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᔆᵗᵃʸ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵉˢᵗ⸴ ʰᵒˡᵈ ᵐʸ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵇʸ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧
ᵀᵒ ᴴⁱᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘ— ʷᵉˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧" ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵉᵉᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴹⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ!" "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒˢˢ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟖
Poor X. The lawyer has seemingly been struggling with some kind of chest infection for a while now- it seems like whenever Y passes his office, she can hear him clearing his throat, muffled coughing drifting through the walls as he tries to catch his breath. “I’ll b-be- *wheeze*- f-fine. Just… just need to c-catch my- my breath.” Wiping his mouth, he soon leans back against the bricks. His shallow exhales become steam in the cold air. “I think you might need some stronger cough medicine.” Y murmurs, still rubbing slow circles against his back. “If you want, I could get you some?” His gaze crawls over to hers, dull hope flickering within them. “Y-yeah?” His eyes roll, exhaustion taking over, but a quick tap to the cheek brings him right back, blinking languidly. “M'okay.” He mumbles. “Th-thanks.” Y's hand, still lingering on his cheek, moves to swipe away a sweat-dampened curl from his forehead. “I’m not sure whether ‘okay’ is quite the right word to describe you right now, X… Take a few minutes down here, and then I'll walk you back up to your office, alright? I’m going to tell your assistant- Z, isn't it?- to make sure you get some rest while I fetch you some meds.” X swallows, shaking his head weakly. “I’ll be… I’ll be f- fine.” “I’m the doctor here. Just try to relax for once in your life.” Finally, he sighs, nodding. He's still leaning his head against the brick wall as his eyes fall closed. Y continues to rub his back for a few minutes, a comfortable silence enveloping them. When she looks back at the lawyer beside her, his jaw is slack, lips slightly parted. The quick, shallow breaths of before have slowed and deepened. A small smile creeps onto her face. He's asleep. X starts to lean unconsciously towards her. Soon, as he remains asleep and snoring, his head lands on her shoulder. He's definitely going to drool all over her dress. “Bless him .” Z whispers, cocking his head a little as he watches X sleep. “He's absolutely knackered.” Y isn't entirely sure what that word means, but if it has anything to do with exhaustion, he's completely right. X is curled up on the couch, cheek pressed against a throw pillow Z thrifted, buried beneath a mound of blankets Y brought from home. They're ever so slightly weighted, and the pressure is comforting for X. She's trying to get used to his sensory needs. To not rely on him resolving them himself, especially when he's sick. Judging by the peaceful look on his face, nostrils flaring gently with each slow breath, she's doing something right at least. She hopes, also, that bringing him into her workplace was the right thing to do as well, groaned when she half-dragged X through the doors, pale and shakily covering his ears, squinting against the light, but what was she supposed to do? Suppose X had been left alone, and needed to get something to drink? Doing those things alone right now is essentially impossible for him. Y's phone beeps, and she turns it on to find a reminder: X’s antibiotics. She sighs, glancing over at cosy-looking just as his nose twitches in his sleep. Z notes frustration. “Antibiotic time?” “Yep.” With another small sigh of sympathy, she stands and wanders over to the feverish bundle of blankets and gentle snores, placing a gentle hand on the top of his head. Her thumb brushes against the sweat-damp curls that hang over his eyes. “ X? Sweetheart? Wake up for me, pumpkin.” When, after a few seconds of waiting, he doesn't stir, she gently strokes her index finger against his lower eyelashes. It's an age-old trick, and just like always, his eyes gradually open halfway. “Hey, X.” She whispers, smiling reassuringly as he blinks in the light. For once, he doesn't make any attempt to get up. His dizziness is clearly plaguing him again. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but you need to take your meds. Can you do that for me?” He swallows, clearly disoriented. Barely awake. “ Mm.” “Thank you. You don't even have to sit up, alright? Just…” she takes the bottle of pills from the coffee table and unscrews the lid, shaking a couple into her palm. “Just put these in your mouth, sweetheart.” Shakily, he obeys. Y's now empty hand is nearly immediately met with a glass of water filled up moments ago by Z. She moves closer to X and holds the rim of the glass up to his lips. “Now take a few sips, and swallow… Good job.” As soon as his small (yet Herculean) task is complete, X sinks back against the pillow entirely, eyes closing. Y draws the blanket over his shoulders, hand yet again drifting to his hair. “How’re you feeling?” she asks softly. His nostrils flare. He doesn't open his eyes. “ B-bad… Di- dizzy.” “ I bet… the antibiotics will make things better soon, pumpkin, I promise. Just rest.” X swallows thickly. “ C-can I go b-back to sleep now?” T gives him a small smile. “Of course you can.” She leans forward, pressing her lips to his too-warm forehead before withdrawing, still carding through his hair. “Sleep well, sweetheart. Night night.” Within moments, his breaths even out again. Soon, her pager will beep, and somehow X will remain fast asleep, swathed in blankets and yet still shivering. She'll check the little device to find that she's needed down at the hospital for a delivery. She'll know that it's okay for her to leave, because there's a whole team watching over. Keeping him safe and comfortable. For now, however, she listens to the murmurings of her colleagues about how adorable X is (she knows, it's why she loves him so much) and traces his features with her thumb. “That’s it, X. Sweet dreams.”
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