[theyoungblooded]

#theyoungblooded

A STUDY IN: friendship, love, the fickleness of youth, personal loyalty, hopefulness, growing up, overcoming childhood trauma, gifted kid burnout, the pack mentality, moving on from the past, finding a place to belong & creating your own family.

An independent, headcanon heavy, private & semi selective portrayal of The Flags from the Bungo Stray Dogs series eighth light novel Stormbringer! 18+ as mature themes will be present! Penned by Luna! Sideblog to @moonrisenmuses.

{ Piano Man | Iceman | Lippmann | Doc | Albatross }

[zkac-deactivated20200610]

*makes a jerking off motion every time someone with authority talks*

[the-shy-girl-420]

Just because I love you doesn’t mean I’ll let you win in Mario Kart. Fuck off

[naileadevoras]

[horrificmemes]

Send my muse a word and they’ll tell you something about their past related to that word (Angst Edition).

For starting angsty, sometimes difficult, conversations. The words can be taken in any loose way the mun/muse can use them. Trigger warnings apply.

Nightmare Loneliness Forget Heartbreak Luckless Anger Confusion Neglect Fear Illness Death Loss Monster Misunderstanding Loveless Dark Painful Cold Disloyalty Abandonment Escape Break Injury Dissociation  Panic Cruelty Lost Misfortune Lies Abuse Emotionless Blood Goodbye Incomplete Hollow Evil Noise Threat Unrequited Change

[actionmemeplay]

Character development questions for trans and gender diverse muses.

How does your muse describe their own identity? Do they use a different label or describe themselves differently depending on who's asking?

How does your muse most enjoy dressing, when they feel at ease to present however they like? Is this different to how they present most of the time?

How does your muse handle feeling dysphoric or insecure in their appearance?

Did your muse's orientation or way of feeling attracted to others shift with their gender identity?

What was the moment your muse first realised (or began to realise) their gender roles didn't match up with who they were or wanted to be?

Is there someone your muse considers a "gender icon" or aspires to be like?

What does your muse's ideal example of their gender look like? Eg. "the ideal man" and so on.

Have the people in your muse's life been more of a support or a hindrance in them exploring or coming out and/or learning about themselves?

Talk about a key moment in your muse's journey towards becoming their more ideal self.

Is your muse confident in their identity? Still questioning? Is there anything that ever makes them feel doubtful about themselves?

Does your muse consider themselves out and proud, or would they rather live their life quietly and unnoticed?

What very personalised piece of advice would your muse give, either to their younger self or to someone else just beginning to explore who they are?

Is there a seemingly gender-unrelated thing that gives your muse a feeling of gender euphoria? (Eg. an activity outside of the usual societally gender-coded ones that they associate with their gender for some certain reason, an article of clothing that isn't specifically gendered but feels flattering or validating in some way, etcetera.)

Did your muse experience a grieving process at the beginning of realising their identity, or was the revelation wholly positive and affirming for them?

Did your muse feel like they had to "learn" how to perform their gender, or did they slip into the role naturally? Did they change much about their mannerisms or how they interact with the world, at all?

[rpmemes-galore]

the muses who don't think they deserve love ... sentence starters

"You deserve better than me."

"I don't know how to be loved."

"You're not… going to hurt me?"

"Why do you want to be around me?"

"Why would you choose to stay near me?"

"I can't believe you're still sticking around."

"No one's ever cared about me like you do."

"You… actually want to know how I'm doing?"

"You're too nice. You shouldn't be nice to me. "

"Why aren't you scared of me? Everyone else is."

"You're the only person who gave me a chance, so thanks."

"I've done a lot of bad things… why don't you care about that?"

"You shouldn't love me. Bad things happen to people who love me."

"No, there's nothing I need from you. There's nothing In need from anyone!"

"Nobody's ever treated me this nicely before. It's weird. What do you want?"

"I'm just gonna hurt you eventually. I hurt everyone. That's what they told me."

"This is all really new to me. So, just give me some time to get used to being cared for, okay?"

"Why won't you leave me alone?! Why can't you just get it through your skull that I don't need anyone!"

[rpmemes-galore]

send me   “ you’re here…?”   for your muse to wake up in a hospital bed and find my muse holding their hand.      send    “ i’m here. “    for my muse to wake up and find yours. 

[theyoungblooded]

Kazumi had been back in L.A. for a few weeks filming when he heard the news, though admittedly the information given was less detailed than he would have liked. A zombie plague infection? Mind control? What the hell was going on back in Yokohama? When he couldn't get in touch with anybody right away, naturally the actor arranged for his private jet to take him back to the nearest airport, & for a car to take him home once he arrived. As he makes his way through the mysteriously empty airport terminal, he ends up bumping into a young man.

❝ Ah, excuse me, Sir, I didn't mean to — ❞ His apology is cut short when the stranger suddenly sags forward & he reaches out instinctively to catch him. Only then does he take in the condition of the man. A tattered & blood stained military uniform; turquoise eyes dart to the wall the man was leaning against to see blood smeared all the way down the length of the hall. How...?

Very well, whatever was happening in the city, this gentleman ought to be able to fill him in. He carefully picked the white - haired man up, saturating his suit with blood in the process. He began carrying him to where the car was waiting for him; the driver knew better than to ask questions when he changed where they were going to Lippmann's private residence. ❝ Not to worry, once we take care of these wounds we can introduce ourselves, yes? ❞

[vulpesly-archive]

The first thing Jono notices as consciousness slowly creeps back in, is that the scent of blood is distant, muted, rather than the overwhelming way it had dominated his senses before. Good. Between that and the soft itch of bandages against his skin, he can safely assume his injuries have been tended to. So one Teruko or Tetcho must have finally found him and gotten him medical attention--

No, wait... Jono frowns, his senses not picking up anything to suggest he is in an infirmary. His head tilts, listening intently, trying to get a read on his surroundings. As far as he can detect, the room he's in resembles some sort of living space, nothing properly medical or official about it. And there is not so much as the flicker of a familiar heartbeat. Only one pulse besides his own is near, the rhythm belonging to a stranger.

In an instant, the Hunting Dog is on alert. Awareness is no longer coming back at a snail's pace, but instead his mind leaps to being fully awake as he jolts upright. Wounds protest the motion but Jono ignores them for the time being, far more concerned with the current unknowns of the situation. Is this friend or foe? Has he been saved or abducted? There will be hell to pay if someone has made the mistake of thinking a Hunting Dog--even a wounded one--is easy prey!

Facing the stranger, Jono reaches for his saber only to find it missing. Ah, right. He'd lost that in his fight against the captain. Damn. "I demand to know where I am and who the Hell you are!" While pleasantries have been cast aside, panic has not been able to demolish Jono's imperious nature.

Could this day get any worse? Could he not simply be left to die in peace?

[theyoungblooded]

By the time they made it back to Yokohama, the man seemed to be fully unconscious due to the severity of his injuries. It wasn’t good, he had no idea what this gentleman had been through in the airport, but based on the uniform & the reports he’d heard of what happened in the airport, it couldn’t have been good. Now, Lippmann was experienced in first aid training, for both practical & impractical reasons, but if what he’d heard of the Hunting Dogs was correct their physiology was very unique, & he wasn’t sure he was equipped to deal with that. Thus he wound up calling Doc & inviting him over to tend to the man’s injuries more thoroughly. At least he managed to pin down the man’s identity.

As per usual, nothing surprised Doc, arguably the most accomplished medical professional in Yokohama if not all of Japan. The results of his examination were quick, & his diagnosis ghastly. Mild to moderate first & second degree burns, multiple stab wounds to the torso & extremities, & a bite wound in the junction between his neck & shoulder. The fact he wasn’t a vampire was promising at least; the infection was no longer spreading according to Piano Man. Thank God.

Small but firm hands grip Jono’s shoulders & gently push him back down. “Easy, Saigiku-san, you aren’t in danger here. My name is Lippmann, I’m with the Port Mafia, & I found you wounded at the airport. You lost consciousness. I had my colleague who is a surgeon tend to your injuries.” Doc had noted the man was blind when performing an eye exam to check for potential head injuries. Waking up in an unknown place with people you couldn’t recognize was bad enough without a disability to restrict your senses. Lippmann knows he’d be terrified of that happened to him. “You’re in my penthouse, Moonview Apartments in Yokohama. You’re okay.”

He lets go once he believes Jono won’t attempt to stand up, his injuries had been awful. “I would have treated you myself but I’m aware your physiology is different from an ordinary human’s & I thought it best to seek professional care. You were bitten by an infected individual it seems, but you should be fine. We’ve received word that it’s over. The gifted responsible for the infection has regained control of his power.” He should stop there, really. He’d already answered both of the man’s questions. But… something compels him to continue. “Your leader, Ōchi Fukuchi, is dead. I’m sorry for your loss.” Although, if Doc was correct & those wounds were inflicted by a sword… perhaps it wasn’t too much of a loss to this man. Regardless, he deserved to know.

[theyoungblooded]

💉 — Doc

[theyoungblooded]

🌹 — Lippmann

[theyoungblooded]

🎹 — Piano Man

[theyoungblooded]

🏁 — Albatross

[theyoungblooded]

❄️ — Iceman

[vulpesly-archive]

Each step leaving a fresh puddle of blood in his wake, matching inconsistent crimson streaks along the wall he braces himself against. Following the sounds of conflict, he's made considerable progress through the airport since Akutagawa's departure. Remarkable progress, really, when taking into account the series of sword-inflicted wounds across his form.

But there is only so far one can walk with such injuries. Even a Hunting Dog has limits. He sways, consciousness wavering.

[theyoungblooded]

Kazumi had been back in L.A. for a few weeks filming when he heard the news, though admittedly the information given was less detailed than he would have liked. A zombie plague infection? Mind control? What the hell was going on back in Yokohama? When he couldn't get in touch with anybody right away, naturally the actor arranged for his private jet to take him back to the nearest airport, & for a car to take him home once he arrived. As he makes his way through the mysteriously empty airport terminal, he ends up bumping into a young man.

❝ Ah, excuse me, Sir, I didn't mean to — ❞ His apology is cut short when the stranger suddenly sags forward & he reaches out instinctively to catch him. Only then does he take in the condition of the man. A tattered & blood stained military uniform; turquoise eyes dart to the wall the man was leaning against to see blood smeared all the way down the length of the hall. How...?

Very well, whatever was happening in the city, this gentleman ought to be able to fill him in. He carefully picked the white - haired man up, saturating his suit with blood in the process. He began carrying him to where the car was waiting for him; the driver knew better than to ask questions when he changed where they were going to Lippmann's private residence. ❝ Not to worry, once we take care of these wounds we can introduce ourselves, yes? ❞

[rpmemes-galore]

q’s for muses who deal with chronic pain 

How often do they have ‘bad’ days?

What helps the most with their pain? 

Does the weather affect their level of pain?

What does their typical ‘good’ day look like?

Where is their pain  ( or the majority of it )  located?

Do they feel the need to hide when they’re in pain?

How does their physical pain affect their mental state?

How do they feel about / view cancelling plans due to pain?

Do they tend to listen to their limits, or do they push themselves?

How much pain can they deal with before it gets to be too much?

What caused their pain? Illness, injury? Do they know what caused it?

Do the people around them tend to understand / sympathize with their pain, or brush them off?

[rpmemes-galore]

aches and pains … sentence starters

tw for chronic illness / chronic pain and body dysmorphia 

“Shit, it hurts!”

“I’m used to it hurting.”

“It’s nothing. It just hurts, again.”

“I just can’t ever get comfortable.”

“My whole body just feels… wrong.”

“No, it’s normal pain. I’m used to it.”

“I wish these scars would just go away…”

“It hurts too much to stand up, I need to sit.”

“I’m tired of feeling off all the time, that’s all.”

“I think I need a hot shower and some painkillers.”

“It doesn’t even feel like this body is… me, anymore.”

“God, I wish I could be healthy for one day. Just one.”

“No, it doesn’t really hurt today. It’s just uncomfortable.”

It’s a bad day, again. I might need some help getting up.”

“It just feels like there’s something in me that’s not… me.”

“I don’t even remember what it’s like to get a good night’s sleep.”

“What’s it like waking up and NOT always hurting? Must be nice.”

“Man, if I hurt this much already, it’s really gonna suck to get older.”

“I need a hand up. If I start crying, don’t stop, it’s manageable pain.”

“I’m only (age)! I shouldn’t have the aches of a 90 year old woman.”

“I feel like a burden. I wish I was healthy so no one has to look after me.”

“This doesn’t even feel like a body, anymore. It’s just a big ball of pain and ick.”

“It feels like my body’s never… right. Like there’s always something wrong with it.”

“I don’t want to stay in bed, ‘cause my brain’ll tell me I’m lazy. But, it hurts too much to stand up today.”

“I don’t want to have to ask for help. I wish I could just do these things by myself, but my body won’t let me.”