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quaritchsbunny · 1 year ago

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Z-Dog/Zdinarsk as a Yandere (hc styled fic)

Wc: 4.9k (watch this flop because it’s so obnoxiously long idk why it just grew itself into a full blown pic)

Warning/Tags: yandere behavior, slightly toxic behavior, obsessive behavior, f!reader x zdog, medic! Reader, recom!reader, mature language, a bit graphic description of an injury including blood and flesh degredation, a bit of forced touch, i have no idea how actual injuries work please just go along for the purpose of fiction, zdog kinda being an asshole but she’s just been through it, unhealthy obsession, zdog is just in denial for half the fic, biting, enemies (kinda) to lovers?

A/N: My second fic ever and first time writing for a female character ahhh! I really don’t like the way I wrote this one but what can I say I really tried my best, I hope this is to your liking anon! Welcome to any comments and requests!

Extremity Scale : 3.5/5

Type of Yandere: Obsessive, Worshipping (unknowingly), manipulative, slightly sadistic

- Zdinarsk is what others would call a heartless beauty

- Although masculine with her striking mohawk and exhibits of tattoos that spread like blooms throughout her newly blue body, the soldier had been endlessly pursued by RDA officials, scientists, comrades, male and female alike despite her cold attitude

- And one by one without a clench of her jaw on the monotonously sweet bubblegum she always seemed to be chewing, she had laughed callously before turning them away, mind focused solely on her occupation as a recom soldier

- On the battlefield, she was ruthless.

- Shots were fired without a second thought once she held her aim, and whether it was a gun, arrow, knife, or chain in her hands, her cold amber eyes didnt allow for a second of compassion before she made her kill.

- Zdog wasn’t afraid of pain, her many colored bold tattoos on various parts of her body displayed hours of needles that had penetrated her with ink, yet she adorned them like it was a part of her.

- It was all these qualities that made her a worthy comrade to officials and authorities like Quaritch and her trust recom team, valuing her professionalism, tolerance and bravery.

- Her cool exterior seemed to be impossible to break, it seemed to be part of her personality, even her closest comrades in the squad never saw her portray any emotion other than callous joy at the aspect of conquest or the neutrality she seemed to carry with her everywhere.

- Because she never saw a need to feel anything other than that, what was the point? Any other emotion wasn’t going to pay her, being soft or sympathetic like the RDA did for her cruelty when it was directed towards the natives. And damn a soul who bothered to try to entertain her romantically, that shit didn’t touch her heart or her body in the slightest, she stowed away the young part of herself that dreamed of connection with a person that can understand her and instead suited herself to a form in which she didn’t care for the affection of others.

- It was nothing more than a waste of time to her, Zdog had considered emotions to be consuming and useless, and when she wasnt out scouting with the recoms in the thickets of pandora, her little free time was easily passed in the thick leather sketchbook, her fingers thoughtlessly skimming over the thick sheets, nails digging in the cursed piece of charcoal (it was the closest thing to a pencil, the sick RDA officials only had office pens as an alternative) as thick lines formed into her next tattoo design

- As such, the only emotion Zdog really felt except for callousness and the joy of victory was minor annoyance.

- Annoyance towards anything that wasn’t needed, such as the resourceless parts of pandora, the tears of mourning that came with death, the lack of efficiency from any comrade, such things only wasted time and got in the way of the ultimate goal

- Which was why she particularly despised you.

- You were a recom too, but not a soldier

- You were a healer, just as you had been as a human, you had died healing the RDA soldiers that were wounded in the war between the navi and RDA

- And for whatever reason, the RDA had insisted on adding you onto the short list of people to recombinant for a new blue team on their return to Pandora, arguing that your healing skills were essential to survival

- Why did the scientists waste their time and resources putting you into a recombinant body, and then waste the fuel putting you in a cyro and shipping you all the way to pandora?

- Why were healers a thing anyways? Zdog’s scars always healed on their own, fuck the bandage or the cream. The only way to truly heal, as learned from multiple experiences Z-dog had, was to expose the damn bleeding scar to the air and let it bleed until it learned to close its own weeping mouth. The body has to heal eventually, it's why so many organs exist just to keep bood pumping.

- So the first time Zdog had unfortunately stumbled across a carnivorous plants in the thickets of the annoyingly damp forests of pandora, skillfully targeting her right bicep as it sank its teeth into the beloved inked arm of the unsuspecting soldier that was leaning across a tree, it was to both her and your misfortune that the colonel had sent her straight to you with commands of healing and treatment.

It was the first time you have received a patient since your arrival to the new RDA base, and your eyes widened when the outraged female was thrown into the ward, her upper right arm’s flesh seemingly curving inwards like the chunk of flesh was deflated from the bite.

“Colonel, I’m fine, a couple painkillers and it’ll be good as new” she barked, fangs bared as she tried to keep in her tears of both anger and physical pain, tearing through her like wildfire.

Colonel Quaritch only threw you a look of firm command as he commanded “do whatever you gotta do to get her arm good, and take your time, she’s not coming to missions for two weeks”, the colonel turned on his combat boots, leaving you alone with the hysterical soldier

Zdog whirled angrily, shocked and disoriented as she had never been off duty for that long. Reaching for the Colonel to come back before her head reeled from the fresh shots of pain up her raised arm, her blood dripping onto the bare silver floors of the ward.

You acted on instinct upon seeing the spurts of blood, rapidly bunching up gauze as you pressed into the wound, sitting her down on the bed.

Zdog hissed angrily, her body thrashing as her arm shook due to the huge amounts of loss of blood as she cussed incoherently, channeling her anger in attempt to stop you from wasting her time

“It’s people like you that make injuries worse, you don’t need to interfere, the body heals naturally, that’s the whole purpose for recombination, not that you would know, fucker who took on blue to do absolutely nothing”

“You’re right” you say calmly “the body heals naturally, just like how it was also that carnivorous plants nature to sink its teeth into your bare arm”

The glowering female soldier says nothing as she glares back, watching you as you unwrap the towers of gauze upon her wound.

You ignore her profanity and swiftly inspect the wound after pressurizing the opening to avoid amputation, the ink from her spilling out and blending with the dark blood as it swirled on her indigo skin.

Zdog cursed her heart as it beat rapidly, trying to look anywhere other than your knowing eyes that meticulously scanned her marks of injury, reassuring that her sweat and rapid shaking was from the physical shock and not the way your lips pursed together in expertise as you reached to grab disinfectant

Without warning, you poured the disinfectant on her wound after retracting as much blood as possible, the burn of the alcohol hurting almost more than the damn plant’s bite as it spilled into the marks, cleansing the indents from the vicious carnivorous plant

However the sear the disinfectant brought was a tickle compared to the rapid fire spreading amongst her heart, pumping blood rapidly at your firm touch on her arm and the whiff of sweet cherry she caught as your head whipped to place the disinfectant back on it’s shelf and disappeared behind a cabinet, digging through creams and bandages

Zdog had told herself it was only a natural reflex, her body trying to react to to pain as it sped it’s organs up, swallowing thickly as the your sweet scent left her surrounding, leaning forward from her resting position on the bed to catch it again

“What a medic, abandoning your patient like that” Zdog scuffs, the popping of her bubblegum breaking the silence in the room

“Please lay back Miss Zdinarsk, rapid movement will cause more blood loss” you reply as you approach her again, her eyes immediately mellowing when your sweet scent invades her again

“No one calls me that anymore” she breathes out, biting back her huffs of pain as you press the q-tip of healing cream into the cleaned wound, circles rubbing along the raw flesh. “Z-dog, or Z works”

You nod, leaning back as you rest the q-tip on the silver tray as you reach for a bandage. “Well Z, luckily there's no signs of infection, I suggest regular icing to increase blood flow to the area and less intense use of that arm” you lay an ice bag by her non injured arm.

“For how long, this is the arm i shoot with, i’ve actually got shit to do”

“Depends on the speed of your muscle recovery, for humans though, it would be at least 3 weeks before you can do lifts with that arm again without permanent tissue damage” Your fingers worked nimbly, wrapping the bandage around her toned arm

Her relaxed form suddenly seemed riled up again as the words came out of your mouth, frown etching its way on her face as she growled. “I’ll be fucking damned”

“And because the bite had drawn your blood out of that part of your flesh, your tattoo ink had also leaked out with it, so that might be distorted, if not gone” the bandage was pressed with care before wrapped with another layer of gauze.

The cold buzz of the AC in the ward almost did nothing to combat the way her face heat up as your palm pressed the bandage in place with medical tape, before she remembered the proper emotion she was supposed to be feeling, rage, not whatever appreciation she was developing towards a person that only made her future work inconvenient by dramatifying the injury

“Listen Z, I’m only here to help, I know this is a frustrating situation, but the only thing you can do is to rest, and if there’s anything i can do to help in your recovery, please tell me” you say, your recited script towards angry patients such as her prepared as she kicks herself off the bed, stalking towards your form as you explain softly.

“Listen up miss nurse, I didn’t need this. I’ll be going out to the mission and I’ll be doing whatever I like with this arm that you only damaged more with your shit medical proceudure.” She growls angrily, the blood loss from the injury and your scent making her head spin with confusion.

Why did she have the urge to pull you into her, to feel your sweet scent closer, what is this strange undertone to her anger?

You say nothing as her non-injured arm slams her first into the wall behind you, her bubblegum scent ghosting over you as she towered, tail swishing excitedly as her tone said exactly the opposite things

“I didn’t ask for this, the recombinant bodies heal faster and I don’t need your false pity, and maybe you’d know if you actually did anything other than sit in your pretty little ward, so i’m gonna fucking show you now”

What she did next shocked you, it hadn’t processed in your brain that her single hand had somehow made it to pin both of your arms above her and you were only able to see the flash of her mohawk as a warm spotch bubblegum was spat out. And before you even had time to squirm in response, you felt fangs sinking into your blue neck much similar to the way the carnivorous plant had done to her arm, but with surprising tenderness

Zdog had no idea what she was doing, no. She did. She was doing this to teach you a lesson, to demonstrate how the recombinant bodies worked as you clearly had no idea. She wasn’t doing this because of how much she indulged in the fluttering in her heart and stomach when she tasted the softness of your skin, the addictive feeling of your flesh on her tongue.

No blood was drawn, her saliva connecting her to the bright mark as she pulled away, still glaring at you as she inhaled sweet cherry rapidly, savoring the sweet taste of your flesh and laughing against your collarbone as she heard your cry. Damned the way her body relaxed like a cat as she retreated.

“And you’ll be paying for that tattoo that i lost” she said matter-of-factly, boots sliding across the floor as she slammed the door to the ward, leaving you dazed, confused, and the mark on your neck burning as her brown queue swished out of sight, the ice bag chunks rattling like her heart on the way out.

You couldn’t deny that you had enjoyed your little scuffle with her, you couldn’t help it, feeling the magnetic attraction the soldier exuded from her built form and confidence. And even if deep down you knew it was wrong, you’d be stupid to report it to anyone in the RDA, the recom team was basically the backbone of all the physical operations holding the establishment up, they wouldn’t hear a recombination nurse out if it meant the best to them

Zdog returned to her quarters, jaw empty of the bright pink bubblegum that frequented her mouth as she rolled her tongue around her teeth, trying to memorize the way your flesh felt around them.

In her mind, gnawed a voice, telling her to apologize to you, to see you again, to thank you

Her head reeled with swirling new emotions that she swore were useless as she layed on her bed pried open her sketchbook, trying to sketch an image of you, memorizing every feature before she realized her dominant arm was in too much pain.

She huffed frustratedly, before throwing her head back to her pillow, and icing her arm

Whenever she had been injured before, her comrades had laughed at her weakness, taking it as a chance to demote her position or belittle her for feeling pain, along with the fact that she had been a female, it had caused her to be pushed around.

But you? No “get over it”s or belittling laughs, just words of genuine advice as your fingers pressed gently into her wound, smoothing over the years of mistreatment she had received, and whether it was rehearsed from years of expertise as a medic or genuine care, your sweet cherry scent made it all too confusing to distinct.

Now all that filled her head is the sound of your sweet voice as it reassured her and your form in the white medic robes that softly pressed against her cargo vest.

Reminiscing, she lifted the ice bag, tracing the bandage where your delicate fingers had graced upon her arm, and a smile made its way upon her face unknowingly.

A brilliant excuse to see you again creeped its way into her mind as she ripped off the bandage, admiring the way you had folded it intricately as she held it to her chest, her heart beating rapidly.

I need to see her again, I need to, and I will no matter what.

Deep down she knew it was not needed, but two weeks off with an injured arm called for routines out of the ordinary.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just do something useless for once, the anger would be just as time consuming as the weird feeling of attachment she felt near you.

She slept disturbingly well that night, the cloth held close to her chest as she dreamed of tied hair, marked necks, and sweet cherries.

Despite not having duty, the responsible soldier still awoke early to send off the colonel and the rest of the team, still holding back her complaints when the colonel shook her head, telling her she wouldn’t be any good with her shooting arm injured before he assigned her to stay at the base.

As soon as the recom helicopter lifted off into to pandora sky, she skipped excitedly to the mess hall, where breakfast was being served, cherry red gum popping in her mouth as she scanned the room for a particular blue medic

Her heart seems to sink stupidly when not a single other blue form was seen in the room, her jaw tightening around the cherry gum as the flavor seemed to taunt her

That’s right, this is what you deserve for being such a impulsive asshole, indulging yourself in emotions that waste more of your time, and wasting even more energy walking around to find her

You see the agile female’s tail swishing curiously from miles away, you approach her, squinting when you realize she doesn’t have her bandage from yesterday

Zdog’s jaw immediately falls slack when she smells it, her heart racing, reciting your name, as it sends her stepping back towards the source, almost knocking into your form.

“Back so soon?” You tilt your head towards her bare arm, scar breathing without the bandage

“Looking for you nurse, just needed another bandage, you didn’t anchor it enough and it fell off when I was sending the squad off earlier” Zdog says fluently, rehearsed words from her practiced scenarios ready for whatever response you have

You only raise your eyebrows, chuckling as you led her back to the ward. Not that you were really a faster walker by any chance, the soldier made a strong effort to take smaller strolls to admire your beautiful form from the back, the sweet swirls of tenderness and affection filling her as her heart pounded louder and louder as you sat her down to bandage her, almost 10 times as intense as the way it had felt yesterday

Correct to Zdog’s assumption, the scar had indeed healed a lot faster than you had expected, though her arm was still sore and healing, the wounds had closed up a lot faster than expected

You raise your eyebrows when you see that her scar has healed fast, leaning back as your eyes scan over it

She gulps almost nervously, voice coarse and low as she mumbles “what’re you lookin at, nurse, get on with it”

“Maybe you were right, recombinant bodies really do heal much faster, i doubt you really even need the bandage” you say hesitantly, as if questioning your own healing abilities

Zdog’s eyes widen as she reaches out for you, fingers around your arm as she tries to sound as threatening as possible, but her words coming out as pleas instead ``Nope. You’re a medic aren’t you? So do your job and bandage me, or else I can get you fired and on your way back to earth” she had plotted this with so much meticulous thought just to feel your fingers on her arm again! It surely can’t go to waste, she was gonna go out and find another carnivorous plant if she had to

You smile softly, chuckling and the sound goes straight through Zdog’s ears into her heart.

What is this fluttering feeling? Why won’t it stop?

“Where’s this compliancy coming from, you barely let me do anything yesterday, Ms. I have shit to do with this arm” you sit down and twist the cap off the healing cream, grabbing another q tip

Zdog rolls her eyes naturally, although she cant help but open it faster when she feels the rub of the soothing cream on her arm, amber eyes trained on your experienced movements

“If I really wanted to get back, maybe I should heal in the right way so I can do shit faster” she muses, fingers tempted to run themselves down your delicate queue and spine that was exposed to her as you leaned to heal her

You blink, sighing as you reach for the gauze “I think you were right though, maybe these procedures are only damaging it more, maybe it needs to just breathe. Are you sure you need the bandage?”

Zdog nods rapidly, her bold neck tattoos becoming a blur of black and blue as she spits out, trying to keep up her shell up and ignore whatever was swirling in her heart an brain “What do you think? Does that arm look anywhere near healed to you? Do you want me to walk around unbandaged and get a worse injury?”

It wouldn’t hurt to just indulge in the useless things a little bit, processes that only really waste time if it’s with you. It wouldn’t hurt to just have it on if it meant your fingers would grace my arm everyday

“Plus, I’m sure the only reason the lil nasty’s recovered this fast is because of your speed and expertise in treating it yesterday, don’t question your skill” The sentence hopped out of Zdog’s mouth almost unknowingly, and she almost wanted to bash her head against the wall. What did she say that for? You didn’t need reassurance, reassurance was for people who didn’t know anything, people who needed others to walk them along

Before her thoughts become more self deprecating, your laugh echoes through the ward, the cold silver and white walls suddenly becoming welcoming as you shake your head, anchoring the gauze in palace on your arms

“Flattering, but I really mean it when I say I think you may have been right about recombinant bodies healing faster” you lift your neck, bearing the mark that was violently purple yesterday, faded to a shade of lavender with the fang indents like marks of violet.

Zdog swallows, feeling both guilty and in a weird way, proud when she sees the mark.

“Yeah about that, that’s my bad, I was pissed and out of my mind because I’ve never been told to stay off duty yesterday, being out all day in that damp jungle heated my blood, and I may have been tryna prove a point about recombinants but that was completely fucked up and unnecessary”

she looks down at her lap, 9 feet body suddenly feeling like she was a young human girl in the marines again, disappointing her sergeant for not being as strong and capable as they expected

You set down the gauze gently and lean down to peer at her, her downcasted gaze unable to see the slight blush on your face “I’m not gonna say it’s okay to bite a medic that was trying to treat you, but you’re lucky it was me, I didn’t mind it that much, and it really did prove a point that recombinant bodies heal faster”

Zdog nods quickly, happy as she detected no anger in your voice. “Never trying that again for sure though”

“The world’s medical field is in danger if that's what you act like to everyone who tries to treat you” you chortle

For the rest of the day, Z-Dog spent time helping you maintain the ward as an extended apology to her behavior yesterday as she continued to indulge in the honey like emotion that came with being near you

- Through the next week, the ward seems to grow warmer and more homey every time Z-Dog visits (though by the first four days, her arm was completely fine, she found excuses) unknowingly, Z-Dog began to sink in the feeling of the previously useless emotions, letting it consume her until she was wasted in love

- Without knowing it, morning visits for rebandaging had turned into long conversations where Z-Dog healed more than the injury of her arm, but burns and bruises of her childhood and life as a female soldier that was constantly undermined, you saw that her hard exterior seemed to be a essential part of her that she needed for protection

- And to be honest, Z-Dog didn’t think really about what she said to you or how she said it, words just flew out of her mouth as the soft feeling of trust and affection drifted over her, your understanding gaze and comforting words binding you together like a web

- The bonding had quickly grown into something wordlessly essential and romantic, things Z-Dog always used to qualify as a waste, but now just like her cold exterior, the soft moments where your hands interlaced as she talked to you about her past seemed just as natural.

- She was almost always in contact with you, physically, whether it was the ways her eyes followed your every move or the way her hand was always by your hip, shoulder, head, it became a constant

- She followed you everywhere in the guise of protection in return for you healing her and never let her eyes off you

- And even when you were busy or actually did have other RDA matters, they seem to come cancelled last minute on short notice (because even the officials knew not to mess with a injured recom soldier that was defending the organization), and you couldn’t just leave Z-Dog alone, her words always seemed to have a way of wrapping themselves against you

- “You’re gonna leave your injured patient waiting alone like that when she’s in pain needing medical attention? Wow, I thought you cared about me”

- “You still owe me for the tattoo, yknow, so it might be less financially burdening in the future if you treat me well right now”

- There were many late nights where Z-Dog had opted to stay in your quarters instead of hers, arguing that she slept better and healed faster, her sketchbook filling up with doodles and intricate charcoal lines with details of you. Her beloved muse.

- Back in her own quarters, folded along her sketches of you were her past bandages, as well as hairbands she stole from you, keeping everything that you had touched or interacted with like a piece of magical artifact organized like a shrine upon her nightstand as she put them under her pillow, sleeping well to the thought of you.

- Two weeks had passed by and her arm was as good as new, as the two of you only grew closer and closer, the romantic attraction was undeniable, your blue tails tangled together as her arms sneak around your waist while you you documented her healing progress at the ward

- Until one morning the cool, brazen female soldier was gone, leaving you alone and confused in your empty bed before you realized that her duty had begun again. The past weeks had been nothing but a vacation and relaxation for her, and now that she is back on duty you could certainly expect to never speak to her again. It was all probably just a sort of short term association with her

- The day passed in a sort of a weird haze for you, strolling around the base without the sight of your certain badass soldier you were infatuated with

The night after her first day on duty, rapid knocks sound at your ward door as you’re working overtime, trying to distract yourself from your attachment with Zdog. Distraught and confused, you rush out of your seat in your white robes as you open it and see the female soldier, bright as ever

“Oh? Come to visit after ditching me this morning?” You say, a bit salty as you step back, suddenly noticing a bandage on her upper arm again

Z-Dog only looks at you, pupils filled with affection and joy as she laughs “Actually, I need help with my arm again”

You blink back an eye roll, used to the intentional injuries she sometimes did to recieve more medical attention from you as you wordlessly sit her down on the bed like many nights before where you guys had laughed, cried, kissed, and loved as your nimble fingers unwrap her bandage.

The white gauze falls away and under the soft glow of your examination table light and your eyes are busy scanning for cuts, violet reds or blood, or dark bruises that you almost miss it at first

Black, bold, yet slick and elegant letters curve around her blue skin, replacing the faded and distorted tattoo that had once been there, thick and bold as the ink is fresh, you can almost still see the puncture of the needles that she so willingly sat through and for hours before she had rushed up to your door, the shock in your eyes blurs your vision until you focus in and make out the letters of your name, with a tiny, clumsy heart identical that you had doodled on her sketchbook nights ago next to it

“Z- what is this” You breath in awe

“Well, you were the person that helped my arm heal the fastest, and parts of my heart as well, so why not dedicate the new area of skin to you instead of redoing a boring old tattoo” She chuckles matter of factly, pulling you into her lap as you continue staring at in awe

“Oh Zdinarsk” You gasp, tears blurring your vision as you look at the huge bold letters

“You never paid me back for the one I lost though, so how about a deal” She looks up at you playfully, true unfiltered joy in her once callous eyes

“Be my girl? My personal nurse, hm?” She asks cooly, thumbs smoothing over your ears as if her own heart wasnt pounding through the heavy cargo vest she wore for duty

And when you nod happily as she pulls you into a kiss of many to come, she realizes in the moment that yes, love wasn’t entirely necessary, and neither was her tattoo, or opening up to you, or the feelings that overtook her when she held you to herself proudly the next day as she introduced you to the squad, arm still firm around your waist as if to mark you for herself

None of it was necessary, and yes, maybe she was wasting her time, her love, her emotions. But even love was nothing more than a waste of her time, she would gladly waste it all on you, over and over again.

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jules-van-hering · 27 days ago

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my life would be so much easier right now if I believed in sth. some sort of god(s), The Truth™️, whatever...

but the closest I have to that is bruce and that feels a bit weird ofc. cause girls/women being obsessed with a celebrity and their life & work invites judgement. and I am generally deeply afraid of judgement, like you don't even know how much, literally throws me into a trauma response so fast. I really wish it wasn't like that.

but now I'm thinking about shamelessly embracing bruce as my divine guiding light. has anyone else here done this? the church of springsteen? but not the way the weird straight conservatives who have claimed him over the years. I'm not gonna fucking call him the boss. he's bruce to me. I mean a specifically queer (as in sexuality and identity but also politically) church of springsteen. do we have an illustration of him as a saint, like that one of carrie fisher with her dog? or wait! the one on stage where he emits steam from sweating so much! that's a good one. alternatively all the pictures of bruce and clarence from the born to run photoshot work as a holy images too I think.

anyway it's just wild now at the end of my twenties looking back to when I became a fan at 16, seeing so clearly how his music helped me through the narrowmindedness of my hometown and my working class family's expectations and at the same time now being in a spot again where it all speaks to my soul and situation so deeply with all the family estrangement, trying to build a life for myself that really suits me in a new place with a new family of misfits and freaks and thus finally realising why it all hit so much back then as a teen. I already clearly felt that I was caged, I didn't know exactly by what, I couldn't precisely name it, but something in the music resonated with my subconscious and gave me a safe place where these feeling and thoughts could have a home and grow until they were ready to break out

to me his music first and foremost is a call to live life authentically. you gotta live it, yes, that is one of his core messages. but it ain't shit if you're not authentically you. I love that because it's also very much in line with philosophical existentialism which I am a big fan of. according to sartre it is your responsibility to be yourself. there is nothing else except existence. you cannot create a life in your head only. l'enfer c'est l'autres. but heaven is other people too.

in bruce's work there's this big focus on friendship and love and sex, all these form of human connectedness. he always writes about relationships, there's not much about him being a lone solitary dude on his own journey. he is such a romantic, believing that love can save us and that we have to fucking act on it!

#long personal ramblings #bruce #church of springsteen #(?)

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tracybirds · 1 year ago

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"snoozeville" with Alan? (although that's normal for him, so if you're not sure what to do with that, I don't mind if you pick someone else instead)

Thank you for the prompt and for your patience :D Alas, Alan's pov for this one wasn't quite working, but I hope you enjoy this alternative :) (now off to snoozeville myself!)

snoozeville: [character] falls asleep somewhere that isn’t their bed.

---

Scott groaned, shoving away the reconnaissance reports as he scrubbed at his eyes. The dim light of the tablets formed an oasis in the inky dark and the villa was silent but for the faint crash of waves against the cliff. The night was clear and calm and he padded over to the windows to gaze out at the rippling reflection of the moon above. The stars twinkled as he picked out constellations, the instinct from his scouting days as present as ever. He winced as he spied Orion in the east, its steady rise enough to tell him how late the hour had become.

He yawned, turning off the tablet screen and making his way up to his room by the light of his communicator.

The habit of checking in on his family hadn’t always been as compulsive as it was now, but Scott didn’t think it did him any harm. It was needless reassurance perhaps, but at each door as he listened to soft breathing and the murmurs of dreams, he could feel his own heartbeat starting to slow.

Gordon’s room was closest to the lounge, with John’s opposite, to compensate for their sunrise and nocturnal activities respectively, so as not to disrupt the heavier sleeper in the family.

Scott nudged the door open, suppressing a smile to see Gordon sprawled across the bed and hugging a pillow with one arm. The aquarium light through the water gave the room an eerie glow like a underwater grotto. This was as silent and still as Scott ever saw his brother and he took a moment to enjoy the peace.

He backed out of the room quietly and turned to John’s room. He laid a hand on the solid oak door to ground himself, knowing John wasn’t there and resisting the urge to check all the same. A small part of Scott felt guilty not including him in the nightly ritual even when he was absent, but John loathed any perceived invasion of his privacy and it wasn’t worth the inevitable argument when EOS tattled on him. So he compromised, hand on the door, and called up Thunderbird Five.

“You’re late tonight,” observed EOS. “He’s already asleep.”

Scott grimaced, remembering the long, arduous evening he’d left behind.

“Tell him I’m sorry,” whispered Scott. “I lost track of time.”

“He worries.”

“Ditto, then.”

EOS said nothing and Scott sighed.

“I’ll catch him tomorrow, I promise. He’s really sleeping?”

“Three hours and seventeen minutes. He has entered his third sleep cycle tonight.”

“Good,” said Scott softly. “He needs it.”

“So do you, Scott Tracy.”

“Goodnight, EOS.”

He shut down the call without waiting for a response.

Alan’s room was dim and dark, carved into the side of the mountain with no natural light except from that which was funnelled down through the rocks as a skylight. These provided a link to the outside world, the sky and stars that he loved, and a much needed release from his endless video games.

Scott peeked in, hardly noticing the empty bed. It has been a long time since he’d given up on wrestling his youngest brother into bed each night and Alan genuinely seemed to prefer the floor. Scott wrinkled his nose at the musty smell, making a mental note to ask Alan to do a spring clean of the place. There was no sound, not even Alan’s usual quiet snuffling, and Scott frowned, stepping forward into the room fully.

“Allie?” he called softly, picking his way across the floor where gaming gear lay abandoned and dirty clothes were strewn wildly. The moonlight shone through the skylights, illuminating the empty space where Alan normally slept.

“Alan?”

Scott swore to himself, his heart rate spiking as he hurried into Virgil’s room.

“Virgil,” he hissed, “Virgil, wake up.”

“Whaa-?” mumbled his brother, one hand already groping for his comm as he struggled upright. “Is there an emergency?”

“Alan’s gone,” said Scott. “He’s not in his room.”

Virgil blinked blearily at Scott.

“Oh,” he said. “Alan’s in your bed.”

Scott froze.

“He’s what?”

“Yeah, I guess he wasn’t feeling well.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?”

Virgil shrugged. “You looked busy. Don’t worry I took a look at him. Just needs rest now.”

Scott felt the words slice into him, although he knew Virgil was merely stating fact, not placing blame.

“Thanks, Virg,” he said, swallowing down the guilt that stuck in his throat. “Get some sleep, I’ll look after him.”

Virgil grunted, asleep again before his head touched the pillow and snoring lightly as Scott turned out the light.

He crept towards his own room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Everything was organised with military precision. The only anomaly was Alan, and Scott felt carefully for him before climbing into bed.

Alan stirred beside him, curling into Scott’s chest as he wrapped him in a gentle hug.

“Hey, sprout,” said Scott. “Not feeling so good, huh?”

Alan shook his head silently.

“What type of hurt are we dealing with?”

“Throat,” whispered Alan. “Head. Everywhere.”

Scott held him close, humming as he thought.

“Virgil said he gave you something? When was that?”

Alan shrugged.

“I can get you something else,” began Scott, but Alan shook his head once more.

“Please,” he croaked. “Just stay. And sleep.”

Scott thought he could do that.

[feel free to send me a prompt plus a character!]

(yes I still have a fair few to write but they're so fun!!)

#scott tracy #sometimes i fic #thunderbirds are go #alan tracy #idk there's a few in there #have fun <3 #fanfic 🥰#scott 💙#alan ❤#2015 #family feels #h/c #sleepy sleeps 💤#thunderbirds #collected works (mine)

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vianwrites · 9 months ago

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So, I decided to continue with that previous Trimberly fanfic I did? And, this time it's on Kimberly's side of the story...so, yeah...ended up making it multi-chapter? Sort of? I'm not really sure how well I am doing with this, but I hope I am doing well.

Anyways, here's the second part/companion piece to Eyes Open (Trini's Version). The title of this one is Jump and Fall (Kimberly's Version)...and, yeah, pulling titles from Taylor Swift's discography because, why not? Will be postin this on AO3 and Wattpad as well. Anywho...this fic goes like this:

Kimberly Hart sat at her desk in her room, the soft vibrant hues of the cloudy afternoon sun basked her room with enough light that she didn’t need to open the lamp by her desk. She sat there for a reason, had been seated at her desk for much of the afternoon already. And, in all honesty, she should have been focusing on the opened textbooks in front of her, on the notebooks strewn haphazardly on her desk, on school assignments demanding her attention. But they ended up all fading to the background, like they were unimportant set pieces. Instead of diving into algebraic equations or historical dates, grammar and the proper use of punctuation, Kimberly found herself lost in a maze of thoughts and emotions as she tapped to a random rhythm with her pen.

It had been a whirlwind these past few months—months that felt like years. A whirlwind of emotions and events. It had been months since she made that brash and reckless action—some would call it a boneheaded move, a social suicide—that ended up destroying her reputation, getting her status as the ‘Queen Bee’ revoked and made her a pariah in school. That led her to a path she never dreamed would even be one possible to trudge on. It was so impossible and fantastical and something straight out of a comic book. It also led her to people—outcasts and misfits, like herself—that she would form a connection with. To people she would call her “family” and would call her theirs.

If she were to be honest, it felt like a lifetime ago. She felt as though the person she was then and the person she was now were from two different alternate universes. And, in the midst of all the drama, all the training and the struggles of trying to morph and the disappointment and frustration that came with failing to do so, witnessing a friend die and be revived, and almost dying herself in the process of defending their town...yeah, she would like to think that she had changed quite a bit. All the Rangers—Jason, Billy, Zack, and Trini—had.

But, in the midst of her thoughts of her journey as the Pink Ranger thus far, there was one thing that stood out to her as clear as daylight: the surprising bond she had forged with Trini Gomez, the Yellow Ranger. It was, if she was being honest, she had never thought Trini would be her closest in their friend group. After all, Trini wasn’t exactly easy to get along with. At least, not from the start.

The lonesome girl had been wary of her, and for good reasons. Still, they did end up getting along and now she considers Trini her best friend and knows the other girl thinks of her that way as well.

Suffice to say, it wasn’t the first time the Yellow Ranger wormed her way into the other girl’s thoughts.

Still, no matter how many times it has happened, it always managed to surprise her. She wasn’t doing it on purpose, so it wasn’t something she comes to expect at times or even sought after. But, regardless, it always had a way of creeping up to her. Sometimes it came slowly and insidiously. Other times it came like a freight train that comes barreling with such unstoppable speed and force. Regardless of how those thoughts invaded, they were always impossible to ignore. There was just something about Trini—her strong sense of individuality and fierce independence, rebelliousness to conforming to societal norms and social hierarchies, the confidence she seemed to carry that belied her years, and the juxtaposition she found with her hardened facade to her soft caring attitude.

She was captivated by the way Trini carried herself; captivated by the way her lips would quirk into a genuine smile—often a rare occasion to others, but one that had become somewhat of a norm recently whenever they have hung out together; captivated by the way Trini had been treating her as of late.

And yet behind that ruggedness that she showed and the lone wolf attitude she had initially portrayed, Kimberly found a multi-faceted girl that drew her in, like a moth to that proverbial flame.

When Trini was with her, Kimberly couldn't shake the feeling of solace and peace she felt. It was like a warm embrace, a fluffy blanket of comforting presence in the midst the hectic chaos that their life had become. At the same time, there was always something lingering—like a spark just about ready to ignite—whenever they interacted, making her feel something akin to an adrenaline rush. Kimberly found herself seeking out Trini's gaze, drawn to the warmth and depth of her brown eyes, deep and soulful.

As the Pink Ranger sat there in her room, she couldn’t help but wonder why she felt that way about Trini. Why did she crave Trini's approval, seek out her company, cherish each interaction they had together? Why did she feel a sense of loss whenever Trini wasn't around. Like a piece of her was, not necessarily incomplete but, missing? It wasn’t like that with the other Rangers. And, to be honest, she doesn’t remember it being the same way with anybody else. Well, there was somebody else, but that was before he cheated on her and—

—And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit her.

This undeniable attraction she felt towards Trini was more than just admiration, more than just respect. It felt like it had morphed—pardon the pun—from something more than just friendship and a sense of camaraderie. It was now something deeper, more profound; something simple but yet oh so complicated. Something she had never felt before with another girl.

She had feelings for Trini. Feelings that went beyond platonic, more than just mere friendship.

The thought terrified her. Her mind couldn’t quite wrap itself around such an epiphany. She had never considered herself anything but straight. She had never entertained nor imagined the thought of being attracted to another girl, much more falling in love with one. But, as she sat there in her mess of a room it, strangely and jarringly, made undeniable sense to her, like puzzle pieces being put in quick succession into place.

It frightened her as much as it elated her. It made her heart skip a bit and thundered between her rib cage. Her chest constricting and breath hitching at the realization of her own desires; of acknowledging the possibility of her own queerness and sexuality and of the path her heart had suddenly decided to open up for her.

As she wrestled with these conflicting emotions, she caught glimpse of the photo she had tacked on the wall near her desk: the photo of the Power Rangers, taken as a group, during the celebratory campfire they had after Rita’s defeat. Her eyes gravitated and fixated themselves on Trini standing next to her in the photograph, grinning widely, skin glowing with the light of the campfire’s flames, and memories of her interactions with the shorter girl flooded her mind—from their first exchange and the chase that followed and every memory since.

But one memory stood out above all others: that night at the campfire.

In the midst of Zack’s suggestion to share about themselves—a proposition that irked Kimberly at that time despite what merits may be gained, what with not wanting to talk about the whole Amanda-thing and the shame that came with what she had done—in the hopes that they would trust each other more and be able to morph, Kimberly witnessed the strength and resilience beneath the tough exterior of one Trini Gomez. She saw the vulnerability and uncertainty hidden behind Trini’s bravado. After all, it takes quite a lot of courage to speak up about one’s insecurities the way the shorter girl had.

In that moment, Kimberly had felt a sense of awe and wonder at Trini, whom she initially thought was just someone with a lot of pent up rage and angst personified in such a small body. She felt something begin to form with the Yellow Ranger and with her desire to try and emulate such strength and get to know Trini further, get her to share more, to open up more.

That connection solidified itself and grew into actual friendship when Trini pulled her locker door out of its hinges after it had been vandalized and had offered her own locker for Kimberly to use. It was an act that she didn’t think she would be receiving from anyone. Certainly not something Trini would instigate without much egging. Granted, she didn’t know much about the girl at that time, but up until then Trini was pretty much aloof with her. They talked, yes, but she didn’t get a sense that the girl had any desire to be protective of her outside of their training until that moment. So, yes, that had come as a surprise. So much so that she distinctly remembered herself being at a loss for words.

And now, as Kimberly sat there in her room, her heart heavy and wrestling with longing and uncertainty, she couldn’t help but wonder what it now all meant for her. Did she really crave for something more? It did feel that way. Did she want to do something about it? More importantly, does Trini feel the same way? Does she want to risk what she had with Trini in favor of what they could have if the feeling was mutual? What would her parents say? What would everyone think? So many questions, one after the other, bubbled up to the forefront of her mind.

Any other day and those questions would have been ones she would be avoiding for weeks, pushing it to the back of her mind in favor of what little bit of normalcy was left in her life. After all, things were changing too fast, she wanted to slow down a bit. But now, there was nothing to occupy her mind with. It was simply fixated on the possibilities that lay before her...that was, if Trini did feel the same way.

And, she knew she was reckless. She knew it was, perhaps, her fatal flaw. Her recklessness was often tied to her emotional state—on what she was feeling at the moment and that energy being converted into some spontaneous action. It was that recklessness that often landed her into all sorts of messes in the past, and would no doubt continue to do so in the future. Especially when she does something without fully analyzing the consequence her actions would bring to herself or to others.

It was that sudden impulsiveness that had Kimberly reach for her phone, unlock it, and with trembling fingers type out and send a message to Trini without so much as second guessing what she was doing.

“Hey Trini, can we talk? It’s important.”

Yeah, if things went south, she could blame it on that. Or own up to it with the fact that one of the things she had learned with this whole ordeal with Rita was she shouldn’t take things for granted; that when the time to act came, she must be decisive about it, act on it. No regrets. Because you only live once, and once should be enough.

As recent as the revelation of her feelings for her best friend was, Kimberly felt it was time for her to come into terms with them, to explore them, to understand them and herself. And who better to do that with than Trini? She just hoped the other girl felt the same way.

As the three dots appeared on her messenger signifying Trini writing a message, Kimberly felt a rush of adrenaline course through her veins.

Yes, this was uncharted territory for her. She didn’t know where this would lead her. It was the same with becoming the Pink Ranger and, well, she’d like to think she handled that as well as it she could—maybe even better than she think she would, all things considered.

Yeah, positive thoughts and all that.

With that thought in mind, she leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, only opening them when her phone notified her of Trini’s reply.

“I’ll be there in a few,” it had said.

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sicknessbysalem · 3 months ago

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Day Eight: “The Closest Doctor is Probably Hours From Here” | Sicktember 2024

I am once again posting a fic thats more puke with plot and less prompt adherence but can still feasibly fit the prompt if only barely.

its not wlw, it is cis woman x nonbinary lesbian so… yeehaw (i’m going to have some sick wlw fics this month! At least two… not counting the next one i have with meadow and river, this time sick meadow .)

if you have any requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, chronic stomach issues, anxiety, vague references to trained behavior due to bad situations

Meadow’s car pulled up in front of River’s apartment, the soft rumble of the engine blending with the distant hum of city life. The day was warm, with sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees lining the street, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Meadow had the windows rolled down, allowing the gentle breeze to play with the strands of her sun-kissed hair, a peaceful smile gracing her lips as she spotted River waiting by the door.

River stood with their hands tucked into the pockets of their worn, dark hoodie, the fabric frayed at the edges from countless washes. They were a stark contrast to Meadow’s vibrant energy, their alternative style blending seamlessly with the more muted tones of the city. As Meadow approached with her usual lightness, River couldn’t help but feel a knot tightening in their stomach, an unease they couldn’t quite shake. It wasn’t the trip itself—they trusted Meadow, and they liked April and Arizona well enough—but the idea of stepping into a family dynamic, something they had never really experienced, felt foreign and unnerving.

Meadow greeted them with a warm hug, her scent a mix of lavender and something sweet, grounding in a way that River desperately needed at that moment. They forced a smile, hoping it reached their eyes, not wanting Meadow to worry. She was always so in tune with the world around her, so full of life and color, and River didn’t want to dampen that with their own anxieties.

“Ready to hit the road?” Meadow asked, her voice as bright as the morning sun.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” River replied, their voice steady, though the fluttering in their stomach betrayed them. They threw their duffel bag into the back seat and slid into the passenger side, leaning back as Meadow started the car again.

As they pulled onto the highway, the city began to fade into the background, replaced by sprawling landscapes and the open road. River tried to relax, focusing on the music Meadow had chosen—a mix of indie folk and mellow rock, a playlist they’d made together a few weeks back. But the further they drove, the more that uneasy feeling in River’s gut seemed to grow, a gnawing discomfort that wasn’t just about nerves anymore.

The winding mountain roads didn’t help. The sharp turns and sudden dips made River feel as though their insides were being twisted and pulled in all directions. They kept their gaze fixed out the window, hoping the passing scenery would distract them, but the constant motion only made the queasiness worse. They could feel a cold sweat beginning to form at the back of their neck, their skin prickling with unease.

“Are you okay?” Meadow’s voice broke through River’s focus, soft and filled with concern.

River forced a nod, their grip tightening slightly on the door handle. “Yeah, just… getting used to the roads, I guess. I’m not really used to all these curves.”

Meadow glanced at them, her brow furrowing slightly, but she didn’t push. “We can stop if you need to, you know. No rush.”

River shook their head. “I’m fine, really. Just excited to get there.”

But even as they said it, River could feel their body rebelling against them, a low nausea settling in their stomach, making them swallow hard. They couldn’t let this ruin the weekend, couldn’t be the one who needed extra attention. They’d just have to tough it out, keep it together until they reached the cabin, and hope that once they were out of the car, the unease would fade away.

The cabin was cozy and inviting, with the scent of wood smoke lingering in the air from the fireplace. River couldn’t help but feel a small wave of relief wash over them as they walked in. April had already made herself at home in the kitchen, humming softly to herself as she prepared a pot of tea. Arizona was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through a magazine but glancing up with a smile when Meadow and River entered.

“Hey, you two finally made it! How was the drive?” Arizona asked, her tone light and welcoming.

“Long, but we’re here now,” Meadow replied, setting down the bags. She shot River a reassuring smile.

“Good to have you both here,” April chimed in, looking over her shoulder with a warm expression. “I’ve got some herbal tea going if anyone wants a cup before bed. It’s supposed to help with sleep.”

“Sounds perfect,” Meadow said, slipping her hand into River’s and giving it a gentle squeeze. “What do you think, River? Tea before bed?”

River nodded, the motion making their head swim slightly. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

They joined Arizona on the couch, sinking into the cushions and trying to ignore the queasiness still simmering in their stomach. Meadow sat beside them, her presence comforting even though River felt distant, trapped in the growing discomfort they were trying so hard to conceal.

The conversation flowed around them like a gentle current, with Meadow and Arizona bantering about an upcoming music festival and April chiming in with motherly advice about staying hydrated and not forgetting sunscreen. River listened, nodding occasionally, but their responses were muted, more out of politeness than engagement.

Meadow’s hand had not left River’s. While she talked, River felt her hand move theirs when she started gesturing to speak, as if forgetting they were holding hands, or that River was an extension of Meadow. Rover didn’t mind, they never minded that.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, River,” April noted, her voice kind but probing. “Everything okay?”

River’s heart skipped a beat, but they forced a small smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. It’s been a long day.”

“They had a gig last night, I think I woke them up to get us here,” Meadow giggled. River loved Meadow’s giggle.

April nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. “Well, you’re welcome to rest as much as you need. We’re just glad you could come with us.”

“Thanks, April,” River murmured, their voice barely above a whisper.

The tea was served, and River accepted a cup, the warmth of it soothing in their hand even though their stomach churned at the thought of drinking it. They took a small sip, the herbal flavors soft on their tongue, but it did little to ease the growing unease within them.

As the minutes ticked by, the conversation continued, but River felt increasingly detached, their focus shifting inward as the nausea intensified.

Finally, April stretched and yawned, signaling the end of the evening. “I think it’s about time we all get some rest. We’ve got a full day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” Meadow said, setting her empty cup down and turning to River. “Ready for bed?”

River nodded, their relief barely hidden. “Yeah, definitely.”

They all headed upstairs to their respective rooms, with April giving them each a goodnight hug before disappearing into her room with Arizona. Meadow led River into the guest room they’d be sharing, the space cozy with soft, mismatched blankets and a couple of old lamps casting a warm glow.

River set down their bag, trying to ignore the way the room seemed to tilt slightly as they moved. The dizziness was getting worse, and now that they were away from the others, it was harder to mask how poorly they were feeling. They unzipped their bag, rummaging through it with increasing frustration as they realized their mistake.

“Damn it,” River muttered under their breath.

“What’s wrong?” Meadow asked, her voice laced with concern as she turned from the bed.

River hesitated, not wanting to worry her. “Nothing, just forgot to pack something.”

“Do you need it? Maybe we can get it tomorrow if it’s important,” Meadow suggested, her brow furrowed, “I think momma wants to go into town tomorrow afternoon.”

“No, it’s… it’s fine,” River quickly replied, forcing a smile. “I’ll be okay without it.”

Meadow didn’t look entirely convinced, but she didn’t push the issue. “Alright, if you’re sure. Let’s just get some sleep. You look like you could use it.”

River nodded, grateful that she didn’t press further. As Meadow got ready for bed, River moved more slowly, the dizziness making every movement feel sluggish and disorienting. By the time they slid under the covers, the nausea was a constant, gnawing presence in their gut, and they prayed that sleep would come quickly and take it all away.

“Goodnight, love,” Meadow whispered, leaning over to kiss River’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” River whispered back, closing their eyes and hoping that the darkness would bring some relief. But as they lay there, the nausea didn’t fade; instead, it seemed to tighten its grip, making it difficult to relax. River tried to focus on their breathing, on the sound of Meadow’s steady breaths beside them, but it felt like their body was conspiring against them.

They didn’t want to ruin this weekend. They didn’t want Meadow to worry, or for April and Arizona to see them as a burden. So they swallowed down the rising discomfort, forcing themselves to stay still, to keep their breathing even, to pretend that everything was okay.

But deep down, they knew that this night was going to be much longer than they had hoped.

River lay on their back, staring up at the ceiling as the soft sounds of Meadow’s breathing filled the room. Meadow had drifted off to sleep easily, her hand resting gently on River’s arm, a touch that normally would have been comforting but now only served as a reminder of how restless River felt. The darkness of the room seemed to press in on them, making the gnawing nausea in their stomach all the more unbearable.

Every time they closed their eyes, the dizziness intensified, the room spinning slightly in a way that made it impossible to relax. River’s breaths were shallow, each one taken with the hope that it might settle the churning in their gut, but instead, the sensation only grew worse. It felt as though their stomach was a tight coil, wound so tight it was on the verge of snapping.

They shifted slightly, trying to find a position that might ease the discomfort, but every movement seemed to jostle their stomach further, sending another wave of nausea washing over them. Their mouth felt dry, and they swallowed hard, willing the sick feeling to go away, but it was relentless, gnawing at them with an intensity that was impossible to ignore.

Beside them, Meadow stirred slightly in her sleep, her hand sliding off River’s arm and curling against her chest. River’s heart ached at the sight, knowing how much Meadow had looked forward to this weekend, how much she wanted River to feel like part of the family. But all River could focus on was the sickening feeling growing inside them, the way their body was betraying them at the worst possible time.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last, until finally, River couldn’t take it anymore. They gently slipped out from under the covers, moving slowly so as not to disturb Meadow. For a moment, they sat on the edge of the bed, head in their hands, trying to steady the dizziness that had become a constant companion. The cold floor beneath their feet was a small relief, grounding them just enough to muster the energy to stand.

The room felt suffocating, the air thick and heavy as River made their way to the bathroom. They moved cautiously, each step sending a tremor through their body, as if even the slightest misstep might tip them over the edge. When they reached the bathroom, they quietly closed the door behind them, the click of the latch echoing in the small space.

The bathroom was dimly lit by the soft glow of a nightlight, casting long shadows on the walls. River leaned heavily against the sink, gripping the cool porcelain edge with trembling hands. They closed their eyes, taking a deep breath in through their nose, trying to push the nausea back down, but it was no use. The sick feeling surged forward, relentless and overpowering.

River’s stomach twisted painfully, and they felt their throat tighten in response, the unmistakable sign that this was more than just a passing wave of nausea. Their body was done fighting, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

They barely had time to reach the toilet before their body heaved violently, forcing up the contents of their stomach with a sudden, painful intensity. River braced themselves against the cold porcelain, their knees hitting the tiled floor as another wave of nausea gripped them, leaving them no choice but to give in to the sickness.

The sound of their retching was muffled, but the force behind it was undeniable, each heave tearing through them with a ferocity that left them breathless. Quiet or not, it hurt. It was hard and violent on River. Maybe more so as River tried not to make so much noise.

River squeezed their eyes shut, trying to keep as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Meadow or alert anyone else in the cabin. They bit down on their lip, stifling the sounds that threatened to escape, even as their stomach continued to revolt.

The bitter taste of bile burned their throat, and they coughed weakly, trying to catch their breath between bouts of vomiting. Tears pricked at the corners of their eyes, both from the physical strain and the overwhelming sense of defeat that washed over them. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. They were supposed to be part of the family, enjoying the peace and warmth that Meadow’s found family offered, not curled up on the bathroom floor, fighting off waves of nausea that left them trembling and weak.

River was used to episodes. And maybe they shouldn’t have expected anything else. Half the time the episodes happened at the worst possible times.

When the worst of it finally subsided, River slumped back against the wall, their breathing ragged and uneven. They wiped the back of their hand across their mouth, feeling the clammy sweat on their skin, their body shaking from the exertion. The room spun around them, and they had to close their eyes to keep from losing their sense of orientation completely.

For a few moments, they just sat there, trying to gather the strength to stand up. Their stomach still churned unpleasantly, but the violent urge to be sick had passed, leaving them feeling drained and hollow. They knew they couldn’t stay there all night, not without raising suspicion, but the thought of standing and walking back to the bedroom felt like an impossible task.

Finally, with great effort, River pushed themselves up to their feet, gripping the sink for support. They stared at their reflection in the mirror, pale and drawn, their eyes shadowed with exhaustion. It was obvious, even to them, that something was wrong, but they were determined not to let it show.

River turned on the faucet, rinsing their mouth out and splashing cold water on their face. The coolness was a small comfort, but it did little to alleviate the lingering nausea that still gripped them. They took a few more deep breaths, willing themselves to pull it together, to get through the night without anyone knowing.

When they finally felt steady enough, River turned off the light and quietly slipped back into the bedroom. Meadow was still fast asleep, her breathing slow and even, completely unaware of the turmoil that had just played out in the next room.

River slid back into bed as gently as possible, careful not to disturb her. They pulled the covers up around themselves, curling up on their side, facing away from Meadow. Their stomach still felt unsettled, but they were too exhausted to do anything more than close their eyes and hope for sleep to take them.

River had finally managed to drift off into a fitful sleep, the exhaustion from their earlier ordeal temporarily overriding the discomfort that still gnawed at their insides. But the rest was short-lived. After what felt like only moments, River stirred again, a sickening sensation rolling through their stomach, pulling them from the fragile grip of sleep.

Their eyes fluttered open, the darkness of the room heavy and suffocating. The nausea that had been a dull throb earlier now surged with a vengeance, a relentless wave that left River no choice but to get up and move. They needed to get out of bed, needed to be anywhere but lying down where the sickness could take hold of them fully.

River shifted carefully, trying to slide out from under the covers without disturbing Meadow, but the movement, however gentle, was enough to rouse her. As River swung their legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand, a hand touched their arm, a soft, sleepy voice following.

“River?” Meadow’s voice was thick with sleep, but there was concern laced in it as well. “Where are you going?”

River froze for a moment, their heart pounding in their chest, both from the nausea and the fear of being caught. “Bathroom,” they managed to mutter, their voice strained. “Just need a minute.”

Meadow’s hand slipped away, but the bed creaked as she sat up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice clearer now, more alert.

River didn’t answer, their focus already shifting to the growing urgency in their stomach. They moved quickly, more out of instinct than anything, crossing the room in a few unsteady steps and pushing the bathroom door open with trembling hands. They barely registered Meadow following them, the concern in her eyes hidden by the shadows, as they stumbled to the toilet, their legs threatening to give out beneath them.

As soon as River was kneeling on the cold tile, the nausea hit them with full force, their body convulsing as they heaved into the toilet. It was a quiet, almost eerie sound—no loud retching or gasping for breath, just a strained, barely audible expulsion as their body rid itself of what little was left in their stomach. River gripped the sides of the toilet, their knuckles white as they tried to keep from collapsing, their entire body shaking from the effort.

Meadow hovered in the doorway for a moment, her heart sinking as she watched River’s body tremble with each silent heave. She could barely hear the sound of them being sick, the quietness of it making her chest tighten with worry. Meadow moved forward, her bare feet making soft sounds on the cool tile as she approached River, crouching down beside them. The only reason she even knew River was vomiting was the way it splashed in the toilet.

“Oh… Riv,” she whispered, her voice soft but firm, reaching out to place a hand on their back. River flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away, their body too focused on the task at hand.

“It’s okay, love. I’m right here,” Meadow murmured, rubbing small, soothing circles on their back, trying to offer some comfort despite the helplessness she felt. She hated seeing River like this, so vulnerable and sick, but she knew better than to overwhelm them with questions or fussing. River had always been private about their struggles, and Meadow respected that, even now. She brushed a few strands of hair behind River’s ear before rubbing her back.

River didn’t respond, their focus entirely on the quiet but intense battle with their stomach. Another wave hit them, and they hunched over the toilet, their breath hitching as they silently retched again, the sound barely more than a soft splash in the water. Meadow felt the tension in their muscles, the way their body shuddered with each heave, and her heart ached for them.

“Shh, you’re okay,” Meadow whispered, keeping her hand steady on River’s back, grounding them as best she could. “Just breathe, you’re doing great.”

River’s breathing was ragged, each breath coming in shallow gasps as they fought against the nausea that refused to let up. The dizziness from earlier had returned with a vengeance, making the room tilt and spin around them. They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to block out the disorienting sensation, but it only seemed to make the nausea worse.

Meadow’s presence was a small comfort, her touch soothing even as River’s body continued to betray them. They wanted to say something, to reassure her that they were okay, but the words caught in their throat, replaced by another sickening wave that forced them to lean forward again. This time, they were almost too weak to hold themselves up, their body trembling with the effort it took to keep from collapsing completely.

Meadow noticed the change, the way River seemed to sag against the toilet, and she gently shifted closer, her other arm wrapping around their shoulders to steady them. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. “Just let it out, don’t hold back.”

River’s body responded to her words, another quiet but forceful heave wracking their frame as they clung to the toilet, their breaths coming in shaky, uneven gasps. It was a battle they were clearly losing, each wave of nausea leaving them weaker, more drained, but they fought against the urge to give in completely, their mind a blur of exhaustion and discomfort.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the heaving began to subside, leaving River panting and spent. They slumped forward, resting their forehead against the cool porcelain, their body trembling from the exertion. The nausea hadn’t fully gone away, but the worst of it seemed to have passed, leaving them feeling hollow and light-headed.

Meadow stayed close, her hand still on River’s back, offering silent support as she waited for them to catch their breath. She knew River well enough to know that they hated feeling this way, hated being seen like this, but she wasn’t about to leave them to suffer alone.

When River finally found the strength to sit back, they leaned heavily against the wall, their eyes closed as they tried to steady their breathing. Meadow reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair from their face, her touch tender and reassuring.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Meadow said softly, sensing that River was too exhausted to speak. “Just breathe, okay? You’re safe, I’m here.”

River nodded weakly, their eyes still closed, focusing on the rhythm of their breath and the warmth of Meadow’s hand on their cheek. They felt like they could finally breathe again, the nausea still present but no longer the overwhelming force it had been just moments ago.

For a long while, they sat there in silence, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the night beyond the cabin walls. Meadow stayed by River’s side, her presence a steady anchor in the storm that had just passed, her touch grounding them in a way that words never could.

Eventually, Meadow leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper in the quiet. “Do you want to try going back to bed, or would you rather stay here for a bit?”

River opened their eyes slowly, the room coming back into focus as they considered her question. They felt drained, their body heavy with exhaustion, but the thought of returning to the bed, to the warmth and safety of Meadow’s arms, was too comforting to resist.

“Bed,” River murmured, their voice hoarse and weak. “I just… I just want to lie down.”

Meadow nodded, helping them up from the floor with a gentleness that made River’s heart ache with gratitude. She kept a steady hand on their arm as they moved back to the bedroom, guiding them with care, as if afraid they might collapse again at any moment.

When they finally made it back to bed, Meadow helped River settle under the covers, tucking the blanket around them before sliding in beside them. She pulled them close, wrapping her arms around River in a protective embrace, as if shielding them from the world.

“Is that what you were looking for earlier? Your medicine?” Meadow asked curiously.

River nodded, lacing their fingers with Meadow’s.

“Yeah, I thought I grabbed it…” River said, “It’s fine. It’ll pass on its own…”

“Any trigger in particular this time?” Meadow asked, “Sometimes it gets triggeres, sometimes it happens…”

“Not that I can think of,” River shook their head, “Only thing out of the ordinary is being here.”

“Maybe your anxiety then? You probably also got motion sick a bit on the way up… bad combination that sent you into overdrive,” Meadow suggested.

River let out a shaky breath, their body relaxing into Meadow’s warmth, the last remnants of nausea slowly fading into the background. They shrugged to that suggestion, “It’s possible… I mean getting motion sick as is has triggered this before so… maybe.”

“Poor thing,” Meadow sighed, kissing the side of their head. They closed their eyes, the darkness now a welcome relief, knowing that Meadow was there, holding them close, watching over them as they drifted back into a much-needed sleep.

“Thank you,” River whispered, their voice barely audible, but Meadow heard it, felt the sincerity behind the words.

“Always,” she whispered back, pressing a soft kiss to their temple. “I’m here. Always.”

And with that, River finally allowed themselves to let go, to surrender to the exhaustion that pulled at them, knowing that no matter what, they were safe in Meadow’s arms.

The night had been long and restless for River. They had been up again, the nausea returning in waves that left them weak and drained. Meadow had been by their side through it all, offering quiet support, her presence a comforting anchor in the storm that River’s body seemed determined to put them through.

After a few more bouts of sickness, River had finally managed to find some relief, the nausea easing just enough to allow them to return to bed. Meadow had helped them settle back under the covers, her touch gentle and reassuring.

“Just try to rest,” Meadow had whispered, brushing a strand of hair away from River’s forehead. “I’m right here.”

River had nodded weakly, their eyelids heavy with exhaustion. It wasn’t long before they drifted off, their breathing evening out as they succumbed to sleep. Meadow had stayed by their side, holding them close, her own worries fading as she listened to the steady rhythm of River’s breath.

The night passed slowly, with Meadow dozing off for a few hours, her body finally relaxing after the long, anxious night. When she woke, the early morning light was just beginning to filter through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. River was still asleep, their face peaceful, though there was a slight tension around their eyes, a lingering sign of the rough night they’d endured.

Meadow slipped out of bed quietly, careful not to disturb River. She padded softly across the room, glancing back to make sure they were still resting peacefully before she left the room and headed for the kitchen. Her mind was already on what she could do to help ease River’s discomfort when they woke up—perhaps some tea, something gentle that might soothe their unsettled stomach.

The kitchen was quiet when Meadow entered, the early morning stillness comforting after the long night. She moved to the stove, setting a kettle on to boil, her thoughts focused on River and how to make them as comfortable as possible. She reached for the loose-leaf tea that she knew would help—chamomile, with a touch of ginger—and began preparing it, her movements slow and deliberate, almost meditative.

As the kettle began to whistle softly, Meadow poured the hot water over the tea, the fragrant steam rising up to fill the kitchen with a soothing aroma. She was just about to set the tea aside to steep when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She turned to see April standing in the doorway, her hair slightly tousled from sleep, a concerned look on her face.

“Morning,” April said, her voice still a little rough from sleep. “What are you doing up so early, hon? Are you feeling okay?”

Meadow hesitated for a moment, not wanting to worry April but knowing that she couldn’t keep the truth from her, especially if River needed more care. “I’m okay,” she said slowly, stirring the tea gently. “Hey… do you have any fresh ginger?”

“What kind of tea are you making sugar?” April said, going to get some fresh ground ginger, “Your stomach giving you a hard time again? I thought you said your bug from a couple days back was good? Not that it’s a problem.”

“My stomach’s fine momma,” Meadow said, “The bug was brutal, but Houston took care of me. I should call him and see how he’s doing… case he got sick or something, but no, it’s not me.”

“If it’s not you then is it your…” April trailed off, Meadow giggled as she saw April was trying to come up with the right word, “River, is it them?”

“They weren’t feeling good last night,” Meadow said, “They don’t have a bug but they got sick a few times last night.”

April’s brow furrowed immediately, the concern deepening in her eyes as she stepped closer. “Oh no, what happened? Are they okay? Do we need to get them anything? Have you called a doctor? I mean the closest doctor is probably an hour or so from here but…”

“April, it’s okay,” Meadow said quickly, trying to calm her down before her worry spiraled into full-on mom panic. “They just had a bit of a stomach episode. This is sadly normal for them. I’m making them some tea now that should help settle things.”

April’s worry was evident, her eyes scanning Meadow’s face for any sign that things were worse than she was letting on. “Are you sure they’re okay? Should we be doing something more? Maybe we should—”

“Momma,” Meadow interrupted gently, placing a hand on her arm. “I know you’re worried, but River’s going to be okay. They just need rest, and I’m trying to keep things calm so they don’t feel more stressed. You know how they are—they don’t want to be a burden, and too much fussing might just make them feel worse.”

April sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly, though the worry didn’t entirely leave her expression. “I know, I know. I just hate the thought of them being in pain or uncomfortable, especially here. I want them to feel like this is a safe space, not somewhere they have to push themselves.”

Meadow smiled softly, squeezing April’s arm reassuringly. “You’ve done so much already to make them feel welcome. They know they’re safe here, but you know how River is. They need a little space to process things, and right now, I think the best thing we can do is be ready to help if they need it, but not overwhelm them.”

April nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. “You’re right. I just get so worried, especially knowing they don’t always take the best care of themselves. I worry about all my kids, honorary ones too. But I trust you, Meadow. You know them better than anyone.”

Meadow poured the tea into a mug, letting it steep a little longer as she considered her next words. “I’m going to take this to them and see how they’re feeling when they wake up. If they need anything more, I’ll let you know, but for now, let’s try to keep things low-key, okay?”

April gave a small smile, the kind that was half-reassurance, half-resignation. “Alright. But if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I’m here for both of you.”

Meadow nodded gratefully, feeling the weight of the night easing just a little with April’s support. “Thank you, April. I know River appreciates it too, even if they don’t always say it.”

With the tea ready, Meadow carefully carried the mug back to the bedroom, leaving April in the kitchen to make herself some breakfast. As she re-entered the room, she was relieved to see that River was still sleeping, their face a little more relaxed than it had been earlier.

Meadow set the tea on the nightstand and sat beside them on the bed, brushing her fingers gently through their hair, the soft touch meant to soothe and comfort. She leaned down and placed a light kiss on River’s forehead, whispering softly, “I’m right here, love. Just rest, okay?”

River stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, their breathing even and deep. Meadow settled in beside them, ready to be there for them when they woke, ready to offer whatever comfort and care they needed to get through the day.

River spent most of the day in a restless sleep, their body too exhausted to do much more than drift in and out of consciousness. The nausea had never fully left, a constant weight in their stomach that kept them on edge, but sleep was a temporary escape from the discomfort. Meadow stayed close, watching over them with quiet concern, offering sips of tea or a comforting hand whenever they stirred.

As the afternoon wore on, Meadow grew increasingly worried. River hadn’t improved much, and the one thing that could make a real difference was sitting back at home. With a determined sigh, she decided to drive back and get it. The cabin wasn’t too far, but it would still mean leaving River in the care of April for a few hours.

She gently roused River, her hand brushing lightly over their arm. “Hey, love,” she whispered, her voice soft and reassuring. “I’m going to head home to grab your medicine. April’s going to be here if you need anything, okay?”

River stirred, blinking up at her with bleary eyes, their face pale and drawn. “You don’t have to… I’ll be fine,” they muttered, though the weakness in their voice betrayed them.

Meadow shook her head, smiling softly. “I want to. You need to feel better, and I’ll be quick. Just rest, and if you need anything, April’s here. Besides, the sooner you get your medicine in you the sooner you’ll stop puking and we’ll be all good, right? It’s okay.”

“Be careful please,” River said, knowing they would have better luck arguing with a brick wall than with their girlfriend. Meadow giggled softly and kissed their head and then their cheek.

“Hey, at least you don’t have a fever so we know it’s just a bad day,” Meadow suggested, “I love you. Go back to sleep and I’ll be back before you know it.”

River didn’t argue further, too worn out to resist. They gave a small nod, already closing their eyes again as they sank deeper into the pillows. Meadow leaned down, pressing a kiss to their forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. She met April in the kitchen, quickly explaining the situation.

“Just keep an eye on them. They’ve been sleeping most of the day, but if they wake up and need anything…” Meadow trailed off, her worry evident. “River doesn’t sleep much so this… is kind of good. That they’re resting.”

April nodded, her face serious. “I’ll take care of them, don’t worry. You just go get that medicine.”

With a grateful smile, Meadow hurried out the door, leaving April to look after River. The house fell into a quiet lull after that, the only sound being the occasional creak of the cabin’s old wooden floors or the soft rustle of leaves outside.

River remained curled up in bed, trying to ignore the nausea that still simmered in their stomach. They’d hoped sleep would be a way out, but it was no use. The gnawing discomfort in their gut wouldn’t let up, and they could feel it starting to build again, each wave of nausea stronger than the last.

They swallowed hard, willing their body to settle down, but it was a losing battle. The tightness in their chest, the queasiness twisting inside them—it all pointed to one inevitable conclusion. They needed to get to the bathroom.

Moving slowly, River pushed the blankets aside and carefully swung their legs over the edge of the bed. The dizziness hit them first, making the room spin slightly as they tried to stand. They paused, taking a deep breath before heading toward the bathroom, their steps unsteady.

Once inside, River shut the door as quietly as possible, gripping the edge of the sink for support as another wave of nausea rolled through them. Their stomach twisted painfully, and they knew they didn’t have much time before it all came rushing up again. Kneeling by the toilet, they braced themselves, trying to keep the sounds as quiet as possible, just like they always had.

The first heave was silent, nothing but a soft gasp of air as their stomach convulsed, forcing the bile up. River kept their lips pressed tightly together, swallowing down the noise, their body shaking with the effort. Another wave hit them, more forceful this time, but still, they made almost no sound, just the faint splash of liquid hitting the toilet.

It was a practiced silence, one they had perfected over the years. Their family had made it very clear that being sick was something to be ashamed of, something to hide. As a child, River had learned quickly to keep their sickness as quiet as possible, to disappear when they felt ill, to avoid the judgment and frustration that always seemed to follow.

They hated that the habit had followed them into adulthood, but it was second nature now. Even here, in a place where they knew they were cared for, where Meadow and April would never judge them, they couldn’t shake the instinct to stay quiet, to not be a burden.

Another retch tore through them, their stomach cramping painfully as they continued to throw up, their breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. The effort of staying so quiet left them trembling, their body weak and shaky as they leaned heavily against the toilet, the cool porcelain pressing against their forehead.

They didn’t hear the soft knock at the door, or the quiet footsteps approaching. April had come to check on them after noticing their absence from the bed, her concern growing with each passing minute. When she gently pushed the bathroom door open, her heart sank at the sight of River hunched over the toilet, their entire body trembling as they fought through another silent wave of sickness.

“Oh, River…” April whispered, her voice soft with worry as she quickly stepped inside.

River flinched at the sound of her voice, their body tensing as if they’d been caught doing something wrong. They didn’t look up, couldn’t bring themselves to meet her gaze as another silent heave wracked their body, leaving them breathless and weak.

April’s brow furrowed in concern, not just at the sight of River being sick, but at how quietly they were going through it. It wasn’t normal—not the way they seemed to force themselves to stay silent, as if making any noise would be a problem. She knelt beside them, gently placing a hand on their back, her touch light but reassuring.

“Hey, it’s okay,” April murmured, her voice calm and soothing. “You don’t have to be quiet, River. It’s just me.”

River shook their head weakly, unable to form a proper response as their body lurched again, another quiet heave leaving them shuddering with the effort. April’s heart ached at the sight. She had never seen someone so determined to stifle their own suffering, and it worried her deeply.

April wanted to ask. To reassure River. This wasn’t just about being sick—this was something deeper, something rooted in how they had been treated before. April knew Meadow couldn’t have done this to them. That wasn’t Meadow. This would’ve been adapted long before her honorary daughter and River’s relationship.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said softly, her voice filled with compassion. “You’re okay…”

April’s face softened as wrapped her arm around their shoulders, pulling them gently against her side. Meadow said not to overwhelm them, but April was still a mom. River was her kid every bit as much as Meadow was.

River leaned into her, their body still trembling, but the tension in their shoulders began to ease slightly. They were still pale, their stomach clearly not finished with its torment, but April’s presence was a calming.

“You’ll be alright,” April said softly.

Another wave of nausea hit, and River, finally allowing themselves to trust the safety of the moment, let out a quiet groan as their body heaved again, their muscles tight with strain. April stayed close, letting go of River. She moved her hand to rub comforting circles on their back, offering silent support.

River continued to get sick, though it was quieter than April had expected—less from fear now, and more from sheer exhaustion. When it finally subsided, River slumped against the wall, their breath coming in short, ragged bursts as they tried to recover. April stayed with them, not leaving their side, her motherly concern unwavering as she gently helped them wipe their face with a cool washcloth.

“You did great,” she whispered, pressing the cloth to River’s forehead. “Just rest now. We’ll take care of you.”

River gave a small, shaky nod, their body too worn out to argue. They knew Meadow would be back soon with their medicine, but for now, in April’s caring presence, they felt safe enough to let their guard down, if only for a little while.

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emetophilia #emeto cw #emeto tw #emeto writer #sicktember 2024 #sicktember 2025 day eight

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dailyshowchica · 3 months ago

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Loki Cosplay part 7

Previously, on Loki Cosplay: https://www.tumblr.com/dailyshowchica/760378905290031104/loki-cosplay-part-6

Last big base part to make, the tunic. I put this together in 2 days! I think that might be the fastest any part of this project has come together. I sewed the tunic in one day, then attached the snap closures, added darts for a better fit, and hemmed the tunic the second day.

I mean, the pieces are pretty big, so once I got started, I felt like I was making really fast progress. Since I made the tunic longer than the pattern called for, sewing the yoke was harder than on the mock-up, as there was more fabric to manage. But the yoke is doubled layered, and it needs to be, as the shoulders are one of the hardest-wearing parts on a shirt.

I was pretty pleased with how this turned out! Now it's time to make match the film costume.

Backing up a bit to show the collar. It did not quite match the neckband of the shirt, which is always a risk when altering a pattern/using pieces from a different pattern. I finished the collar by hand, to be sure I could fold in all the raw edges, even the smallest parts.

Installing the snap tape got my sewing assistant's attention. Luckily, she only wanted to supervise. She has been known to pull out pins before, which always makes me very nervous. Ruthie cat is sharp enough, I don't need stray pins floating around!

I've mentioned before my distrust of the zipper foot. It serves a good function, but I figured using the regular walking foot would work if I sewed in between each snap. And it mostly did. Given the pulling snaps take, I did tack next to each snap on the outside of the tape, just to make it even more secure.

Once the tunic would stay closed on its own, it was time to pin in the darts. This process would probably be easier if I had a dress form in my size, rather than trying to pin them myself while I wear the tunic inside out. But I really don't do tailored pieces often enough to justify the expense or the space.

It's a better fit, but not perfect. Still, this is all going to be covered up with the faux-leather armor pieces, so that doesn't matter too much.

Asymmetic hem cut, with a bit of length left for the hem. I folded the edge up by about a quarter-inch (I did not measure) and sewed it by machine. Then I folded the hem up again, and stitched it by hand with the closest color thread I had. it's not an exact match, but if you are close enough to see that, you're too close and I'll be pressing charges.

Finally, it's done!

And that's the tunic! I might need another snap at the very top, or maybe a hook-and-eye closure on the collar. But the coat collar might hold everything in place. We will have to see.

And now, a bit of a break. Halloween is 57 days away, so I have time. But for something different, I may clear away a few other projects: PJ pants, a tie and some shorts/culottes for an alternate TVA seamstress costume. I might post those, I might not.

See ya next time!

#cosplay #marvel #loki (tv)#just making it up as i go #tom hiddleston #sewing #crafts #it is incredible what you can get done when you don't have to work AND do crafts in the same day #pace yourself #avoid burnout by doing a different project

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noaltbruh · 2 years ago

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Hi! Congratulation for the 200 followers! I've seen you've got a lot of asks for this event, and that shows that so many people love your writings!

Mind if I join the celebration? May I request 💭 ❗️👐 💍⏳ for my favourite himbo JoBros Okuyasu and Polnareff (yes I consider Pol as a JoBro) with f!reader?

Again, congrats to the 200!

Thank you thank you!! 😭💞 and I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, school's been really rough lately and finding time to write hasn't been easy.

Also Pol is not a Jobro, he's the whole ass protagonist of part 3 😤💕

Hope you enjoy :)♡

💭 How do they imagine their future with their S/O to be like?

Okuyasu just...Wants a simple future for the two of you. This boy doesn't ask for much and doesn't like to carefully plan his life, he prefers to go with the flow and just see how things evolve over time. You can figure the details along the way, it doesn't really matter to him as long as you're by his side.

He'd really love to form a family with you though, to be the good father he never really had. I feel like he gets along with children very well, and he will treat both you and them like you're his most trusted treasure during your entire marriage.

Also, kind of random, but I think that Oku would want to become a chef after high school and probably open his own restaurant. Because of this, he's always fantasizing about you coming to visit him after work some day, as he prepares for you the best meal you'll ever have.

~~~~~

Polnareff's future is...Way too idealistic lol-

What can I say? This man is an hopeless romantic, he seems like the type to believe in fairy tales about love. He wants the two of you to have a perfect life, where nothing ever goes wrong and you're always happy and together.

To be fair though, he will work the hardest he can, so that so you'll be able to have the closest thing possible to what he had originally in mind. Pol Pol is very devoted to you and your relationship, he'd be perfectly happy even if he was the only one to work and you preferred to become a housewife.

However, this man has sworn to himself one thing: he will always support and help you through any decision you may take in life. No matter what, he'll be right by your side to make the journey easy for you, don't ever doubt his commitment to you.

❗️How would they surprise their S/O?

I feel like there would be two occasions in which Oku would most likely try to surprise you.

A- either school has just finished and he's thought of something cool to do that you would have never come up with. Or...

B- there was no reason at all for this, he just felt like it one day and now you're going to join him. No, it is not negotiable.

If he wanted to go with something safe, he'd probably just get you a game or a book he knew you would have liked, so that you could play together. He knows your tastes very well.

Alternatively, he'd buy tickets for the first train he could find and take you sightseeing for an entire day to a city you had never been to before. And before you ask, yes, he's just as clueless as you about the place you are in. Good luck.

~~~~~~~

First of all, Polnareff loves surprisingly you so much. He loves your excited look whenever he does something you didn't expect, and he doesn't want your relationship to become too...Static, or ad he calls it, "boring".

I think Pol Pol would most definitely try to surprise you through either acts of service or gift giving...Or maybe even both, he'll go no any extend to impress you, honestly. He thinks it's a nice way to always remind you that he truly cares about you and that he'd never give your love for granted.

Immagine this: you've just come back home from a long day at school/work, only to find out that your house has been perfectly tidied, there's a bouquet of flowers waiting for you together with a nice home-made meal. Can you guess who is behind this?

👐 what sort of things would they like to match with their S/O?

Okuyasu would like to match so many things with you, he's just so proud to have you as his girlfriend and he wants to show it off as much as he can.

You have so many options to choose from, honestly. You could match plushies, and be assured that this boy would hug his one any time you're not near him, pretending that's actually you. Same Okuyasu, sane.

OR, you could match something related to your outfit! Maybe you could wear his iconic dollar pin and he'd add something to his look that reminds him of you :)

Also you two would definitely have those "If lost, return to Y/N" / "I'm Y/N" shirts.

~~~~~~~

Polnareff would definitely be the one to ask you to match things with him. It's something he's always wanted to do as soon as he got a partner, it makes him feel like you're more of a power couple and he thinks it's just a sweet gesture in general. Moreover, he wants you two to stand out, he just loves to show off.

I think he'd basically beg you to match his heart shaped earrings with him. He'd give you one half and would refuse to take his off, no matter the time. Even during stands battle, he uses it as a reminder on who he's fighting for.

He'd be so happy if you always wore it like him, but he won't pressure you into doing so, he wants it to be a spontaneous gesture for you as well :)

💍How would they propose to their S/O?

It's funny that you asked this question, because Okuyasu has no clue either lol-

Whenever the word "wedding" comes up, the only thing he's able to think of is how beautiful you'd be in a bride dress, how he can already feel his eyes filling with tears as soon as he sees you walking down the isles, and how he'd vow to live you for the rest of your life.

...In his head. It's too bad that he's going to need a small reminder that, if he wants this to happen, he'll actually have to propose to you. That is when he actually begins to go into a spiral and realizes how scared he is to actually take this step. What if it's too soon? What if you you don't accept? What if he makes a fool out of himself and trips while trying to get on his knee?

With some advice from his buddies, however, he'll muster up the courage to take this step. I believe he'd propose to you, unlike how it's usually done, in the afternoon or maybe even in the morning, on top of one of the beautiful hills of Morioh, surrounded by a stunning view of the entire city.

"Y/N...Maybe I'm rushing in doing this, m-maybe I'm doing something wrong a-and I haven't even realized it, but...This has always been my fear ever since we...Got together, b-but you never made me feel like I messed up! Sweetie, when I'm you, I feel like...I actually matter, l-like I'm more than just a dumbass, and...You don't know how happy this makes me, how happy YOU make me. I...I really love you, Y/N, and uhm, i-if you take this, I'll keep on loving you forever and ever! So, will you...Will you marry me?"

~~~~~~

To be honest, the Crusaders probably had to stop him from proposing to you way too soon at least, like, three times or so. He just thinks with his heart rather than his brain, and sees marriage as the ultimate way to make your relationship as authentic as possible.

When the time actually comes around to ask you the infamous question, this man just cannot wait. He's spent enough time dreaming about it to know how to put his plan into action, and he has no hesitation whatsoever. He knows what he wants, and that is you and you only, no time to worry or rethink.

He'd propose to you in one of those immense gardens of flowers in his hometown, he wants everything to be as romantic as possible and to leave you absolutely baffled.

"Ah, mon amour...I don't think you understand how long I've been yearning for this moment. We were destined to meet, tu comprends ce que je veux dire, n'est pas? Of course you do, chéri, you're the most brilliant person I've ever met, after all. And you're so much more than just that, you are...My true love, my other half, what makes me complete. We were always meant to be, and the ring I'm holding if the proof of it. Will you give me the honor of marrying you?"

⏳How long would it take for them to fall for their S/O?

Okuyasu probably already had a small crush on you even before he actually met you, if he somehow saw you walking down the school halls sometimes. He's quick to fall for someone and always thought you were pretty, so you had already won him over before even knowing it lol.

When you do actually begin to talk, this boy will only get more and more convinced that he's in love with you. Everything you do or say just pushes him to think that you're the one, especially if you show him kindness.

He may try to push his crush on you aside a little, since he thinks you'd never reciprocate his love, but he's the kind of person that just can't keep his emotions at bay, and his feelings for you will come out soon enough, before you even know it.

~~~~~~

Alright, let's he real here: Polnareff wanted to marry you since literally the first moment you two ever met. Yes, he does have the habit of falling in love way too quickly, but he was right at least this time. He just knows you two are a match made in Heaven and sees no point in "taking it slow".

Depending on how quick YOU are to fall in love, you might as well get together with him a week after you two met, to be honest. But, of course, he's not dumb entirely and can take a hint, so if he notices you just see him as a friend for the time being, he'll respect.

100% won't stop bragging about how he knew from the beginning that you would have become a couple, as soon as you actually do. He doesn't care if you think he's extra or way too dreamy, when he says this, he means it.

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mindsmade · 1 year ago

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home - aeren pulls sh closer until sh’s face rests in the crook of aeren’s neck

@weaveshadows / meme

The terror rarely ceases these days, but Aerendyl can find reprieve from them here and there. In a way, he's stumbled upon one such occasion tonight — and then silently retreated from it. That moment by the statue of Selûne was meant for Shadowheart and her parents, and he can only feel glad to have played some part in bringing them together at all, circumstances be damned.

He stands now in the abandoned chapel bordering their camp, casting a cursory glance at the broken statues, the ruined pews lying about, and the flickering candle flames every now and again. He spent a minute or two leaning against the altar before his thoughts veered elsewhere — away from the Hallowleaf family, their reunion and the aftermath they're faced with now, and towards that of his own.

In the absence of distractions, he thinks of the letter etched into his memory. His mother's sloppy handwriting was and is unmistakable, but that what it described bemuses him still. Aerendyl briefly dwells on the initial relief he'd felt upon receiving it, thinking her safe after all, indeed, but the lack of sense in her words swiftly whittles that sensation down to mild despair.

The answer as to why she'd chosen to reunite with his father now, after that momentous fall-out decades ago, eludes him. Their impromptu reunion said to only be lacking his presence might have induced unbridled elation in his ten-year-old self, but his present-day skepticism wins out every time he meditates on the matter.

Something is wrong. His first thought always leads to Orin playing games; his second leads to those accursed tadpoles. There are no alternatives — even if he tries to fool himself into thinking his paranoia's getting the better of him at last, and he can simply no longer recognise a good thing when he sees it. Reconciliation between those two was never an option.

Aerendyl snaps out of his thoughts and reaches a standstill amidst his pacing as the heavy wooden door creaks. He forgets what he was thinking about for a while, and he's all too content with that. There's a welcome distraction in studying what he soon recognises as Shadowheart's silhouette against the backdrop of moonlight pouring in.

❛ I hope my leaving didn't cause any offence. I thought the moment best kept between you three. ❜ He remains stock still in the middle of the aisle for another moment, briefly wringing his hands. By the time his hands fall to his side, Shadowheart's already within arm's reach.

'Are you all right?' Somehow, it takes until the second echo of her words in this vaulted building for him to register it. They form a simple question with a complicated answer, for he's beyond pleased to see Shadowheart reunited with their family ( despite any initial unease ). They have a future with each other in it now, and something to fight the Elder Brain that much more fiercely for.

But Aerendyl finds himself hoping the same might lie in his future, yet fears – expects – he will see any possibility for it shatter before his eyes.

❛ I'm not sure. Are you? ❜ He won't lie to her, and he expects she'll offer him the same courtesy. They're both navigating troubled waters now, even if the directions of the tides they sail vary all too greatly.

The absence of an instant answer begs a change of tactic. Perhaps not everything needs to be put into words; some things can simply be felt, rather than discussed. But he wishes to share and partake in the resolution of what ails them both, even if it proves only to be a temporary reprieve — and so he reaches out, his right hand to their left, and pulls them his way.

Close, closer, closest — until they come together and he can snake his arms about her, coaxing her into resting her head in the crook of his neck. A sigh flees him as he rests his chin atop her head and languidly starts thumbing her shoulder blade beneath his hand. The other seeks refuge at the base of her head, right where it meets her nape.

He drinks in the comfort of their embrace, registering every point of contact. His chin to their hair, their breath fanning across his collarbone, the gentle ( yet somehow urgent ) press of their arms along his shoulders and neck — all rousing a sense of connection he feels more at home in than he can describe.

The faintest smile touches upon his lips as he shuts his eyes, pondering the solace that's draped itself across him ( and hopefully across Shadowheart, too ) like a warm blanket. ❛ Well, I do feel much better for having you here, for what it's worth. ❜

#weaveshadows #query / ic.#❛ thread / aerendyl.#under the cut bc it's a lil long ... the scene setting got out of hand!#sorry abt that KSDFKS #anyway who doesn't love a comforting hug?!?!!!

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moonleap-star · 2 years ago

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Lucid Dreamwalks (#1: Fell Verse)

[Credits to @ask-underglow and @vampirepoodle for editing and suggestions!! Y’all are life savers!!]

Lucid moved to sit in his bed, kicked off his slippers, and positioned himself as comfortably as possible. His eye-lights scanned his room and listened closely for any noise….Nothing. Ah… Peace and-...The domed lamp at the far corner of his accommodations flickered and buzzed idly every few seconds. His socket twitched. Lucid shifted, pulling his wrap-around bed curtain closed.

A few days had passed since he had performed observation on one of his alternative selves, he and the rest of his “au” still searching for their remaining missing members. He was itching to go back to watching them. Learning.

He couldn’t help but love seeing all these different versions of himself that Ink had said were created by…some greater creators beyond. Gods, perhaps. He wanted to speak to his creator. Ask questions endlessly. Like, why did he feel this restless pull to observe the dreams of his other selves?

...

Placing a hand on the left side of his rib cage, his heart pupils sunk downward from his eye sockets and formed a larger glowing soul underneath where he placed his hand. These representative shapes, of his soul and his creators, is what allowed him to travel across and into other dreams. A gift from his creator. He felt tingly just thinking about it.

He knew his own “soul” was just a jumble of dreams gaining form and sentience. He didn’t technically need a physical representation of the soul. Everyone from every universe would always dream…

As the two souls aligned, he closed his eyes until the bright glow produced by the souls combining reduced to a calm white light behind his eye sockets.

He reopened them.

He was everywhere and nowhere. Not the void, the anti-void, or anything in between. A place just for him. Made just for him. He lovingly named it THE DREAM PORTAL. The gate to the dreamscape, where all of his selves explored their inner psyche. From this place, he could only see a massive jumble of numbers, each a different color and number assignment. They only appeared if said sans from that universe were dreaming, and he could enter their dreams that way and observe from that point.

He had yet to identify where all the numbers and colors led among the millions of them. Thus far he had only discovered the prime universes, those directly stemming out from the primes, and other extremely prominent versions of himself. For some reason, those numbers were always the largest and easiest to identify.

“One day”, he swore to himself, “I will explore them all.”

Looking around, he swiftly recognized the color and number assignment for the FELL Universe. Perfect. He would prefer to study those closest to himself first.

He had yet to introduce himself in any of these fell verses upon his creation. He found they appeared less than others, and upon observation, he decided it was due to the…different, more violent nature of their home universes. Maybe this time he would.

He reached out his hand, and in a flash of bright light, he teleported himself inside the dream.

He landed in something similar to Snowdin. The ambiance, as always in fell verses, was darker. Menacing. Yet there was no one or anything else here besides the brothers’ house- just a black void beyond. The indicator of a nightmare.

Lucid felt a small shiver creep up his spine. He teleported inside the house, deciding to place himself around the corner of the kitchen.

Immediately he heard the harsh upper-case screeching of fell Papyrus. Edge, what Ink had called the younger fell brother once. All the verses versions had their own monikers, to separate them from the prime.

Makes us…easier to categorize and differentiate, Lucid mused nonchalantly.

Normally he might’ve been unnerved by a brotherly screaming spat dream- but this Papyrus was too far different from his. At least so he thought. As he peered around the corner, though, he was floored by the sheer look of hatred on this Papyrus’ face screaming down upon a cowering, sobbing brother.

Lucid felt his bones shake a little. He would absolutely D U S T if his paps ever looked at him that way!

The atmosphere of the dream was so intense, Lucid understood why his fell self, Red, was sobbing. Shaking. Lucid understood… he stepped forward past the kitchen, and as he put himself between the screaming Edge and the pathetic-looking Red, the harsh black aura of the nightmare eased ever so slightly. The dream Edge faded away as Red looked up, red magic tear streaks staining his skull.

“I’m…so sorry,” Red muttered, in shock and numb. Lucid tilted his head slightly to the left with a gentle look, and extended a hand to the crouching skeleton before him.

“You’re okay Red. This place…isn’t real.”

Red looked up at him with a dazed, perplexed look, his eyelights unfocused. “…What…do ya mean…?”

Lucid tsked at himself mentally. ah yes. I haven’t presented myself to him before.

“Just take my hand, Red, it’ll make sense.”

With one more look over Lucid with fuzzy eye lights, Red took the unfamiliar skeletons hand to lift himself up.

The minute their bones touched, Red gained clarity- his first LUCID STATE. His fingers snapped back before they completed the gesture.

“This is a…dream?” Red’s eyelights came into focus as he settled back into his own bones. “Oh. Thank fuck,”

Red put his hand over his SOUL. Oh, that makes sense that there was no pounding, no physical pain if this was just a dream. Red took a moment to compose himself before snapping his head back towards Lucid.

“Oh uh…thanks…? I uh, don’t quite still completely understand what’s happenin’ here,” Red muttered awkwardly, as the black aura completely faded away. The house was quiet, peaceful.

Lucid sighed in relief that the nightmare was officially over and extended his hand once more for a handshake. “I’m…Lucid,” he said slowly, trying out the nickname assigned to him. “I travel through dreams sometimes. You seemed to maybe…need a hand?”

Lucid snorted at his own attempt at a joke. Red laughed, but he didn’t really see how the punchline was the funniest, considering he was just having a traumatizing nightmare.

“………..Lucid, huh? A bit on the nose for that nickname, kid,” Red commented. “…but thanks. I appreciate it. I’m Red…Are you….real?”

Lucid grinned. “I’m realer than most things inside of dreams. And no problem. Nice to formally met ya, Red.” They firmly grasped hands. Lucid didn’t get the usual shock from Red’s hand buzzer. There was less sensation in dreams for him than in the real world. Red, however, got quite the shock from the loud plush toy squeaker wrapped in Lucid’s hand. So much so that Red woke up with a start and Lucid was thrown outside of the dream.

Red awoke at his guard post.

“……..What tha fuck.”

Lucid’s body landed back in his bed where he has last positioned himself, a satisfied grin on his face.

#claritytale #my ocs #art #sans #undertale #undertale au #lucid sans #short story #official

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aliceward · 1 year ago

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What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption

What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption?

Corruption can take many forms, but some are easier to recognize than others. If you dream about corruption, your subconscious might be trying to make a specific point or statement.

Corruption is an issue that takes many different shapes and forms - it’s not always easy for someone outside of the process (or without personal involvement) to see what’s going on with all the specifics involved in each case. However, if there was something significant happening in dreams related to corruption, then these were likely very detailed scenes that could help people figure out their inner thoughts and feelings towards such issues more completely/thoroughly by providing them with clues as well as opportunities for contemplation/reflection.

What Does it Mean to Dream About Corruption

Do you often have dreams about being corrupt? Chances are, it’s because there was deceit within your life recently. Perhaps someone betrayed or deceived you in some way. Alternatively, maybe this deception has led to feelings of guilt or betrayal on your part towards others around you; perhaps these people feel like they don’t trust the ones closest to them anymore- including themselves! Lastly, corruption could represent how much suspicion and judgment is directed at us by other people - we may doubt our actions (or lack thereof) for fear that everyone else will judge us harshly if found out.

Because of your dream, you may have experienced something similar to the following

I have been affected by corruption in many ways. I’ve witnessed government officials being corrupt and cruel, as well as police officers taking bribes from criminals for their benefit. In my life, someone very close to me was corrupted because a bad person influenced them; they changed so much that it hurt our family bond tremendously - we couldn’t trust each other anymore after all the lies were told between us unknowingly at first. It is because of this experience with real-life consequences, that watching movies about political or corporate corruption doesn’t scare me too much since things like these do happen around you even if you’re not aware of what is going on right next door!

Positive changes are afoot if

You apologized for your past corruption and told the truth. The person you were corrupt with was someone you do not keep in contact with, so it’s unclear what consequences may come of this confession. You felt better about yourself after confessing to your wrongdoings because they no longer bother you as much anymore.

Detailed dream interpretation

If you witnessed corruption in your dream but took no part in it, then there might be a lot of deception going on with people around you. You may have been misled before, which makes the matter even worse because now you are not sure who to trust or believe anymore.

If you admitted to corruption or apologized for corrupting someone, then there’s a good chance that you’re desperate and wish that you could start over. There may not be any way of getting back what was lost - but try doing something nice instead! If the dream involved fixing things up again, then accepting your mistakes is easier said than done; however, if it happens in real life, don’t give up hope because maybe someday they will forgive us too.

If the dream had anything to do with moral corruption, you have been emotionally hurt or deceived by others. Someone has made you feel as if you are undeserving of more meaningful relationships in your life. You may also be unsure about some recent immoral decisions made on your behalf without being asked first for input/opinion.

If the dream involved corruption in your spiritual life, you question whether this is truly what’s right for you. You don’t believe that everyone around you has good intentions. It makes sense to be cautious of these relationships because they might negatively impact how I see myself spiritually.

If the dream included corrupt businesses/corporations taking advantage of me, then something about my relationship with them isn’t sitting well with me - maybe there was an argument at work which caused some resentment between us? Whatever happened must have been very serious if it left such a strong mark on our working future together!

If you dream of being a victim of police or political corruption, your subconscious lets you know that it does not feel safe. In this instance, the people who we are supposed to trust most prove themselves untrustworthy. However, it could refer to many things in life and the solution may be as simple as purchasing a security alarm.

This dream is in association with the following scenarios in your life

Love and relationships, what you think of government, dealing with emotions, guilt or deception, your ability to control others.

People often face many difficult decisions in life ranging from loving another person but not liking their actions (i.e., lying), the way they feel about certain issues like politics (i.e., enemies), how one deals with feelings that may be negative such as anger or sadness (i.e., controlling oneself) - all these different things affect our lives every day whether we’re aware of it or not!

Feelings that you may have encountered during a dream of corruption

The past, present, and future me are all looking at the current situation in my life. The corruptness of it makes them feel tainted. They can see how controlled I am by what is happening around me when they look back on their memories to find out why this happened in my life now. Controlling people have made decisions for others without consulting them. After all, someone else wants a certain thing too badly, which has created empty promises that make everyone resentful towards each other right now but also guilty about things we did wrong or deceived into thinking something was going to happen, only to be let down later on because no one cares anymore except themselves!

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liliyawnas · 2 years ago

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seo yul and the art of screenwriting

alternative title: seo yul and why he is so bland in s1

before any of you come for me, i love this pure boy who only wants to be good for songrim and be the bestest mage; but like, he was just so boring in season one, i couldn't bring myself to care about him and didn't really feel the chemistry between him and naksu...

and now that part two is out i actually feel attached to him, and feel the need to pour out all my analysis as to why upon you all using my screenwriting knowledge and stuff

Part one. Function of a secondary character

Who is Seo Yul, when you just casually explain the plot of Alchemy of Souls?

Well, Seo Yul is one of the friend group of the mages of Jeonjinggak trainees that are nicknamed the Four Seasons, nicknamed "Autumn" the hope of the Seo family, strongest of the mages there, teacher's pet, Jang Uk's closest friend and confidante, and the teenage love of Naksu the assasin. Which basically makes him the Second Lead, competing for Naksu's affections when he recongnizes her in Mu-deok and starts developping feelings again.

And in purely functional screenwriting terms, he is Jang Uk's Ally, and also his Rival in the competition for Naksu's affections.

No matter how loveable a character is, they never are included "just for fun" in a dramatic work of fiction, they always have to bring something to the development of the plot, development of the characters, development of the story's themes, and basically to move the story forward. A long-form piece of ficion like this has a lot of ground to cover in terms of story development, and characters that we follow. If you add a character "just 'cause", not only it's harder to make the audience care about them, but also it is going to hinder the rhythm of the story, taking up precious screen time.

Before I actually started thinking about what he does for the story, it really felt like he floated in and out of the plot just when the writers needed him to do something or to add tension... Which is very annoying to see. I am not saying he serves no function whatsoever, in fact, when you start thinking about the show's themes, the reason he is there becomes very obvious. However, his character, throughout season one, had been horridly underdevelopped and underutilised, so

Part two. The problem with Seo Yul

The real problem with Seo Yul is that he was included for thematic purposes, but his character was not sufficiently developped for us to feel like he fits into the story organically, instead of hovering around the edges. Let me explain.

The reason I absolutely adore Seo Yul is that his Very Good Boy persona, a guy who cannot choose the woman he loves over his principles and his devotion to a cause, contrasts deliciously with Jang Uk's "fuck everything, I am getting what I want or dying in the process" attitude. Jang Uk is selfish, spoiled and lazy, Seo Yul is hard-working, shy and selfless, and they make great mirrors. And the contrast between the two just highlights why Seo Yul cannot be the one to help Naksu find redemption. Naksu and Jang Uk almost complete each other. Both are a little bit unhinged in the way they pursue what they want, both are very temperamental, and each one has strengths that compensate for another one's weakness. Seo Yul is there just to highlight the beauty of how these two very flawed characters find redemption and succes through each other.

By the way, I am not saying that the Seo Yul x Naksu dynamic couldn't make for a compelling enemies to lovers story, on the contrary, the pure difference of their characters could create a whole different kind of tension that would make people ship them even more than Jang Uk x Naksu. So why is that not the case?

A compelling Second Lead would make the viewer actually fear that the Protagonist is going to choose them over the First Lead; and ideally, also feel conflicted as to whom they want the Protagonist to end up with. A compelling Second Lead needs to have everything necessary for them to almost be the First Lead. And there are two key things that Seo Yul is missing in season one.

Number one is a motivation and a goal, really. I considered putting this as number two, but this is essential for a character, really, and part of the reason it's hard to care about Seo Yul. What the fuck does Seo Yul want? What is the huge desire that he Does Not Have? There is no such thing that is even eluded to in the show. Naksu is not what he wants, mind you, because when she theatened him with her sword he was like "oh well, guess it's not meant to be🤷‍♂️" and then sort of proceeded to not even try to figure out who she was or why she reacted the way she did.

Number two is stakes. What does he stand to lose? We, as the audience, don't really feel afraid for him, because, well... He is good at spells, he inherits the Seoho fortress so his future is chill, we know nothing of his family, and it's hard to tell why exactly he can't really do anything about his feelings for Naksu. He doesn't stand to lose his powers, his standing, his title, or anything, so like... It's hard to consider him as a real Rival for Jang Uk, because he just doesn't seem that driven. The most I can come up with is that he doesn't want to ruing his friendhip with Uk, but like... It's not as if Uk hasn't done shit to put that friendship in danger; and also in order for characters to grow they absolutely have to fuck up and do bad things to their Allies.

And, well, all that brings me to my sort of final point. If the reason Yul exists in the plot is to be Jang Uk's Rival, Ally, and his Mirror, but doesn't get much of a character arc outside of that (except for the rushed bit in the end of season one when he decided he was taking Naksu to Seoho fortress, and then ended up plagued by guilt)... He becomes a character that is kind of not necessary as himself, and he would do best fused with the character of Park Dang-gu. Hear me out, okay?

If Yul is to be Uk's Rival, why make him his Rival only for Naksu's heart? Dang-gu is the person who is to inherit the leadership of Songrim (it is what he does after season one!), and Jang Uk wants to be the leader of Songrim like his father. Dang-gu is in love with Jin Cho-yeon, and Uk is the one who has been engaged to her, twice! Just those two things would make the tension between Uk and this hypothetical Yul-Dang-gu character double what it is between Uk and Yul, or Uk and Dang-gu, and the stakes would be way higher. I like the contrast between Yul's Stoic vibe and Dang-gu's Soft vibe but it's not enough to keep you invested in both characters. And, arguably, throughout season one Dang-gu has had way more of a character arc than Yul, despite being significantly less important than him narratively...

Or, well, the other way to fix Yul's character is to give him stakes and Something To Do, which is what they did! Finally!

Part three. The Final One. I like Yul!!!😭

If he gets killed this season I am going to be so upset! Just as I started getting invested in him! Please don't boo me but I even like his and So-i romance, because that would be a great narrative arc! Like at first he wasn't willing to fight for love, and didn't think it worthwile to invest his energy into redeeming somebody and offering them a better future, and him flipping to be the opposite - that would work pretty fucking great, in my opinion😭🥰.

This season his character actually works and it's kind of great. He has stakes: poor man is dying😭, he has a (potential) romance, he has Horrible Regrets about not saving Naksu and Uk and he is very sad, instead of just being Slightly Nostalgic in season one. (Side note: I saw some fans complaining about Hwang Min Hyun's acting because of that, because we saw him with basically the same expression... I didn't really share that opinion at the time, it's not like his acting came off as specifically fake, it's just how he was written. Nostalgia is just... not a very strong emotion. And now it's clear that it was not the problem, lol.)

I am still not sure if Yul's arc really includes a Desire, or a Goal, but he is definitely more complex this season and more compelling to root for. And there are things that he Kind Of Wants, which I guess is helping Uk grieve Naksu properly before he dies, and reconciling Uk and Dang-gu after the whole problem of Jin U-tak's death, unlike of "I guess I want to catch some soulshifters" and that being his his job.

TL;DR. In season 1 of Alchemy of Souls, Seo Yul was underdevelopped and underutilised as a character, and seemed superficial to the plot, because he lacked a motivation, a goal, and stakes. This season he is actually way more interesting and compelling as a character, specifically because he got all those things, and I can't wait to see where the plot takes him next!!! (Also Hong sisters don't kil Seo Yul, please??? Pretty please? After you did all this work to make his character interesting😭)

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mxchineherald · 11 months ago

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There was something at his back. It was that same energy that had braced him before. It felt like being held up by a nurturing guardian, always ready to catch him if he fell. Unconsciously, he placed more of his weight against it in an attempt to relieve the pressure on his back. It worked, and he felt almost cradled by the energy. He was so tired, and it was so comforting. He almost drifted from his thoughts, he was so relieved.

But then came Sky's answer to his question, and his heart ached with her genuine kindness. He could tell she was wrestling with her own thoughts at points, like trying to shove too many papers away in one drawer of a filing cabinet. He worried for her, sensing feelings of sadness hidden behind her words.

Whatever this bond was between them, it had opened a doorway in their minds. He theorized that it had something to do with his thoughts and emotions, as well as hers. They tangled together now, forming a mishmash of cognition and expression. It was hard to decipher what was his and what was hers, when he thought too deeply about it. He tried to grant her privacy by ignoring the intuition.

When she mentioned her journal, Viktor perked up and pushed himself along in the stool, edging closer to the desk and moving to pick up the journal from where it had fallen. As he reached for it, his hand began to tremble from the memories of reading it while sobbing his eyes out. All of her hard work, so lovingly focused on helping him with his own health rather than her own pursuits, was contained within the teal leather cover. He had read every note of it when he thought she was gone, and with each page turn, his feelings had grown.

With shaking hands, he picked the journal up and held it close to his chest, the closest he could get to holding her. Her attempt at humor finally cracked past his sullen exterior, and his lips twitched out a smile for a flash of a second. "To be honest, it was a waste of your skills, anyway," he admitted with a shrug of his shoulder. "All this time, I had been trying to avoid your help. I was too insistent on proving myself capable to Jayce that I..." He looked down, words failing him for a moment. "I did not treat you fairly. I am sorry."

He felt like he just kept apologizing, and in the end, it would never change things. They were as they were now, and it there was no getting her body back. He owed her so much for trying to save his life and sacrificing her own, but what could he do? "I...I have your journal. I read your research," he blurted out, clutching the book closer to his breast. "It is something I hadn't considered, before. I had no idea you were putting in all of this effort just to help me."

This wasn't research that could help Jayce, nor was it particularly beneficial to the Council's desires for the future of Hextech. It was all research about their home in the Lanes, and how to reverse the effects that the pollution had caused to the plants there. That research opened new alternatives to treating his condition, which could buy him some time. He had to wonder why, in the end, had she gone to such lengths for him. No one else ever had. Not even Jayce. "Thank you, Sky," he finally said, gratitude ebbing from his tone.

Sky continued to focus on supporting Viktor until he had managed to sit down, feeling worried for him as she sensed his wavering strength. She wished she could have helped him more but she didn't have nearly precise enough control of her energy for something like that. She let out a mental sigh of relief when he settled on the stool but still kept watch over him, ready to catch him if it seemed like he was going to tip over.

As she did so she felt something tickle her mind and could almost see him attempting to hit the Core with the stool he was now sitting on. Fear filled her at the image for a moment but she didn't let her focus waver. After a moment she was able to shake oof the thought and focus on her worry for him along with her desire to keep her steady so he wouldn't end up falling.

She also began to think of anything else she could do for him. Her influence on his body directly seemed to be limited to his leg and hand as far as she could tell. She knew his leg was one of the areas he struggled with but she felt she had already done what she could there, at least for the moment. Maybe with his permission she could try to see if she could strengthen his leg to make walking easier for him. She wished she could help with his back but right now the best she could do was move her energy behind him so he could lean back against it if he wanted.

As she finished speaking she got a sense of warmth and softness but she couldn't tell if it was her own or.... his? No, that couldn't be. It had to just be her own feelings given strength by the core or something. There was no way he could return her feelings, not after showing no interest each time she had tested the waters. Especially now, when she was like this. She tried not to dwell on those thoughts. She couldn't think about her future right now. It was too much and she didn't want to break down in front of him. So she once more set the odd feeling aside to better focus on Viktor.

"Of course I want to help! I was on my way to... to show you my research that night..." She said bashfully. If she could have blushed she would have been bright red with embarrassment. "I.... I've been working on something... to help you. It was in my journal.... Whatever happened to it..."

She vaguely remembered letting go of her notes and them whipping around her as she rushed to his side that night but she didn't know what happened to them afterwards. Melancholy threatened her as she remembered her life before and that it was over. Now wasn't the time for an existential crisis, not when Viktor sounded like that. There would be time later for her to have a breakdown. For now, he needed her.

"No matter what happens I'll be here for you Viktor. As long as you need me. I'm still your assistant... even like this. I just won't be running your messages anymore." She said, once more attempting humor to lift their spirits.

#continued study ;; replies #runes menagerie #thread :: speaking to ghosts

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blackholelynn · 2 years ago

Note

I DO NOT KNOW IF YOU TAKE REQUEST BUT I SAW UR WRITING FOR TWILIGHT AND IM BEGGING YOU, CAN YOU DO LIKE THE READER GETS DRUNK N EDWARD HAS TO TAKE CARE OF THEM OR SOMETHING !! I LOVEE YOUR WRITING BTW

Princess Carriage

Summary: You have a few too many drinks while out with Angela and Jessica, leaving Edward to be the one to take care of you while you sober up.

Pairings: Edward Cullen x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I ended up getting caught up in some stuff irl which meant I couldn't finish the Twilight Appreciation Week event that I was hoping to keep doing, but I will take any excuse to write more for Twilight! And I am finding myself loving writing for Edward!! So I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥰

~~~

Bass boomed around you, filling your chest with a dull thrum at every beat. The lights above you pulsated with different colors. Your arms felt sticky with a mix of sweat and whatever had spilled on the bar earlier in the night. The small glass pinched between your fingers held a pink liquid that you didn’t remember the name of, but it tasted like sweet berries and nothing like alcohol. That might have been why you had drunk three or four in the last hour without a second thought.

The sound of garbled speech hit your ears, and you turned in bewilderment to Jessica, standing beside you with a large grin. “What?!” You had to scream to be heard over the music.

“I said!” she started, grabbing your glass out of your hand. “I think you’ve had enough.”

A childish pout formed on your lips as you reached for the glass, but no matter how many times you thought you had grabbed it, you must have missed it by an inch. “Please! I paid for that!”

“Actually, a guy paid for it before getting shot down so hard I thought he might cry.”

“I’m taken, but that doesn’t mean I won’t accept a free drink.”

Jessica tried to stifle her giggle to remain stern but failed. “Okay, I’m just as guilty. But seriously.” She regained her disciplined facade as she put the drink back down on the bar and hooked her arm with yours. “I think it’s time to get some bad food and call it a night.”

You hadn’t realized how drunk you were until the mention of food made your stomach do a backflip, and you shook your head adamantly. “Maybe we just go home.”

“Yeah, I think that’s for the best. Let’s go get Ange and blow this place.”

You followed closely on Jessica’s very high heels, making sure to keep a hold of her. The staggering amount of people you had to walk through hadn’t fazed you before, but now that your head was spinning, it felt like walking through a fun house.

When you reached Angela, your head was swimming so much that you couldn’t concentrate on what your two friends were saying to each other. You only registered Angela’s relief at the prospect of leaving, and then you were all bee-lining it to the exit.

Once you got outside, the cool air quelled the nausea that started crawling up your throat. Angela and Jessica helped you into the passenger seat, and it was obvious to them how awful you were feeling. Jessica got in the back seat behind you and put her hands on your shoulders.

When Angela started the car, she quickly glanced in your direction. “Are you feeling alright?”

You silently shook your head, groaning a bit when the motion caused your nausea to come back. A rustling noise came from the backseat before Jessica handed you a plastic bag.

“Always prepared,” Angela quipped with a sheepish smile.

You leaned your head back against the headrest as the car started moving. “Thank god for that.”

Angela dropped Jessica off first, considering her house was the closest of the two. However, when she started turning around in the driveway, you realized that you shouldn’t go back to your house like this. You were sure that your house would be in an uproar if you arrived home close to being blackout drunk, and in the spur of the moment, you made an alternative decision.

“Ange,” you started, still hesitant about the choice. “Do you mind driving me to Edward’s place?”

She stopped mid-turn, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you sure? I don’t know…”

“I don’t want to go home like this.” Seeing she was still not convinced, you added, “And I know he wouldn’t do anything. I’ll even call him to make sure it’s alright.”

She took some time to contemplate before she relented and nodded. You pulled out your phone and called Edward, already having him on your speed dial. It only rang once before he picked up.

“Is something wrong?” His voice seemed erratic, and you could only imagine what was running through his head. You had never once called him at this hour of the night.

“No,” you assured him, “I just wanted to know if it was alright if Ange drove me to your house. We were…out. I don’t want to go home.”

The silence signaled that he had the whole situation figured out. It wouldn’t be hard, considering your slurred speech. His lack of response started to create dread within you. Was he upset? How could he be upset with you for having fun?

“Do you need me to get anything for you? How are you feeling?” But he wasn’t upset. His voice was tender and soft as he asked.

You let out a small sigh of relief. “No, you don’t need to get anything. I’ll feel better when I see you. Ange is driving me there now.”

“I’ll meet you both at the end of the driveway and drive you the rest of the way.”

“That’s probably for the best.” You were about to hang up before you tacked on, “Thank you for this. I love you.”

He let out a light-hearted chuckle on the other end. “Anytime. I love you too.”

Your head felt airy when you hung up your phone, holding it to your chest with a dopey grin. The car started moving again, slowly inching towards the road.

Finally, Angela spoke up. “I’m taking it I can drive you over there?”

“Yeah, he’ll meet us at the end of the driveway. Oh, take a left here.”

Angela heeded your directions, and you couldn’t miss the smile on her face. “I’m glad you have him. You practically light up just by talking to him on the phone.”

You sheepishly put your hands up to obscure your face. You were sure you still looked like someone in an ad for a dating app with how wide your grin was. It wasn’t anything that could be helped, though. Edward always had that effect on you.

You continued to give directions (the best you could, considering how drunk you were), and after only a few wrong turns, you managed to pull up to the Cullens’ driveway, where Edward’s silver Volvo sat waiting for you like a carriage. He wasted no time coming to your door and helping you out into the cold night, thanking Angela profusely.

“Just make sure she’s sober enough for our brunch tomorrow, or Jessica will kill me,” Angela pleaded through her open window.

You gave her a weak thumbs up with the arm that wasn’t clutching Edward’s middle for dear life. With that, she seemed assured enough to drive back onto the road and into the night.

Lowering yourself into the Volvo, you looked at Edward with a smile, “You’re my knight in shining armor.”

“I would give that honor to Angela since she got you here safely, but I’ll settle for being your prince,” he answered cheekily. He kissed the tip of your nose as he leaned over to buckle your seatbelt.

You snorted and swatted him on the shoulder. “Don’t get too far ahead of yourself. You’re making me want to take back all the nice things I was going to say about you.”

“I could drive you home inste–”

“No! Nope, you’re absolutely the best anyone could ask for. Just get in here and drive so I can sleep.”

He laughed and got into the driver’s side of the car. The short ride back up to the Cullens’ house was long enough that you started to nod off, so when the car stopped, you didn’t even want to get up.

Edward opened the door for you, and he effortlessly scooped you into his arms when he saw your drowsiness. “You’re acting like a cranky child. You know that, right?”

“Mmm,” you muttered, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “Don’t care.”

“I don’t even want to imagine your headache tomorrow morning.”

At this point, his amused words fell on mostly deaf ears as you fell deeper asleep in his arms. You didn’t even register how fast he had you into bed, with mere seconds passing before you were safely tucked away under the covers.

He was just about to leave to get you a glass of water when you clutched his shirt sleeve. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t be long. I promise.”

“You better,” you mumbled, reluctantly letting go. It was always interesting that he would let you hold him still, and he didn’t just break free from your grasp. He could do it easily enough no matter how hard you held on, but nevertheless, he would always stay until you let go.

Edward was only gone for the time it took you to blink, and he was back in the room, setting down the glass of water and a bottle of over-the-counter pain medication on the nightstand beside you. “I always keep my promises.”

“Yeah, just shut up and cuddle.” You pulled your arms out from under the comforter to make grabby hands at him. You were sure you looked ridiculous, but you couldn’t be bothered at that moment. Honestly, it was a miracle you were still awake and coherent.

He didn’t protest or say anything else, aside from laughing a bit, and crawled into the bed beside you. He made sure to lay above the comforter in the hopes that it would keep him from making you too cold throughout the night. You draped your arm over his middle and latched onto him before immediately falling asleep.

And he was right. Your headache the following day was truly awful. It had to have been the headache from hell because you could hear everything as soon as you woke up. And all that noise hurt worse than anything you’d felt in a long time.

He noticed as soon as you stirred in your sleep, noting the scrunched up expression on your face. “What’s wrong, love?”

“Headache,” you rasped out. You didn’t realize how dry your mouth was until you tried to talk. Before you could ask, Edward handed you the glass of water he had prepared the night before. The cool liquid soothed your throat instantly. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And here, take some of these.” He gently laid two pills into your hand. “Those should help with the headache.”

You quickly took them, grimacing once they were down. “I don’t think I want to get out of bed at all.” You reached across him to set the glass back on the nightstand before deciding that you’d like to stay like that, so you laid across him lazily. “Everything hurts.”

“Too much alcohol will do that,” he teased, rubbing your temples with his cold fingers. The relief was instant, and he had a self-satisfied smirk on his face after your hum of approval. “You do remember that you have brunch with Angela and Jessica?”

You groaned and turned over onto your back, turning your face towards him. “I don’t want to go. Jessica’s the one that dragged me out last night.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to blame her for how drunk you got.”

You frowned but conceded, “No…it’s not. But I still don’t want to go.”

“Angela was adamant about me getting you to that brunch.” When he still hadn’t convinced you, he added, “I can drive you there.”

“In the Volvo?”

“Yes, in the Volvo.”

You playfully pretended to think about it. “Hmm…so you’re telling me I get to spend extra time with you and show up in an expensive car? I don’t know…”

“Come on,” he chuckled, picking you up as he escaped from the warm confines of the bed. You giggled as his cold hands held your waist, and he set you down in front of the dresser that had some of your clothes in it. “Get dressed, so I don’t have those two angry with me.”

You laughed even harder at that statement. “You’re afraid of Angela and Jessica? You?”

“Yes,” he answered with finality. “They’re intimidating.”

You both were now laughing before Edward finally calmed down enough to leave the room, allowing you to change. You opened a drawer of the dresser, your drawer, and picked out the outfit you wanted to wear for the day. Your whole body still felt like you’d gotten hit by a truck, but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face. Even when you overdid it, Edward was always right there by your side. Through thick or thin, he was there. How had you gotten so lucky?

The honk of the Volvo’s honk snapped you out of your daze, and you looked out the window to see Edward leaning against the car. When he saw you through the window, he motioned towards the car as though it were a carriage. You rolled your eyes and made your way downstairs, endlessly happy. Edward truly was your prince, although getting you to admit it to him would take a bit more work.

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suna-reversed · 4 years ago

Text

Icarus’ Irony ☀️

Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader

alternative title: “but I crumble completely when you cry”

2k+ words

Minors DNI‼️

A/N: if you haven’t already seen this cosplay, go get some Toji brainrot

Warnings/Tags: mentions of violence, manhandling, dacryphilia, mild dub-con, fingering, mating press, cum play, breeding kink, size difference, cheating, smoking/alcohol, shotgunning, degradation, slight praise, angstt, hurt/comfort

“Do you know of how Icarus fell?”

His question snapped you out of your post orgasm daze. You looked up at him from where your head rested on his bare chest, thighs straddling his lap, quivering a little as you pulled away to look at his face in the moonlight.

“He flew too close to the sun?”

Toji looked deep in thought as you answered, nodding his head slightly,

“Ah yes, he did…”

You almost purred as his warm hand slid up your thigh, kneading the sore-marked flesh,

“ ...but that wasn’t what what damned him”

He paused again, dangling the lit cigarette held in between the index and middle finger of his other hand, the same fingers that were buried deep inside of you not too long ago,

“...his ruination came with his desire. The closer he got, the more he craved. His delusion didn’t even let him feel the searing heat that burned through his flesh. He was too lost in thought of the eternal glory he believed he’d found.”

Toji adjusted his gaze to meet your eyes, the acrid scent of smoke hitting you as he leaned forward. His actions seemed slowed and you found it hard to differentiate the golden aura around his silhouette from his actual self. Has he always been so ethereal?

“Do you think he smiled?”

“Huh?” you mumbled out drowsily, your head falling back on his chest, breathing in his intoxicating scent. night-chilled mist and cedar. His hoarse chuckle sent shivers down your spine.

“I asked, do you think he smiled...knowing he was the only one to ever get that close to the sun, even if it destroyed him in the end?”

You heard Toji take a puff out of his cigarette and your breath hitched as a hand came to your jaw, tilting your head up as he exhaled out the smoke in between your parted lips.

How had he stayed this long tonight? Usually, you’d be cleaning yourself up by this time, no trace left of the man who had been whispering sultry words into your ear while pounding into you from behind moments ago. He was never this talkative afterwards either.

“Why are you asking me this?”

He leaned back, turning his head away from you. The slightest of change could be sensed in his posture as you hesitantly brought your fingers up to trace the scar next to his lips. He’d grabbed onto your wrist halfway before it could reach his mouth everytime that you had tried it before, growling a low “wanna try that again?”, that usually led to you being stuffed full of him once more. Perhaps he was too high to care tonight?

“Why am I asking you this?” A dry laugh left his throat as he finally looked back at you, still making no attempts to pull your hand away from his face.

“because I think you’re flying dangerously close; whether for warmth, for lust, for love; whatever it is, I have a feeling you’ll go down smiling even when the light sets you aflame.”

You were too lost in his eyes, your mind clouded by the feel of his unclothed skin against yours. How did he get the scar? Had he ever told you? Did she know about it? A burning sensation formed in the pit of your chest as your eyes slid to the gold band kept neatly on the nightstand. He removes it every single time; right before he sinks to his knees with a moan, saying his prayers in between your thighs as your heels dig into his spine.

You couldn't register his words anymore. It all sounded like incoherent gibberish, perhaps that's what it all was. Perhaps, that’s all everything he’s ever said was.

“I only stay with her because of my son”

“I’ll get a divorce soon enough”

“She wont let me live in peace if she finds out-”

All gibberish. Garbage. Empty promises. Lies. Words that held no meaning.

His lips were still moving, but all you could hear was the loud ringing in your ears. Suddenly, the sensation of his flesh against yours felt like too much. You couldn't breathe as bile rose up to the back of your throat. You pulled your head away from his chest, but the warmth wouldn’t leave you, the wet feeling on your cheeks worsening the burning of your skin.

Why was he still speaking? Could he not see that you were dying?

Shut up, shut up, shut up-

You found your lips moving out of their own accord

“Leave-leave me alone I hate you”

The sob that ripped from your throat made you feel like you had just been pushed off from a skyscraper, feeling the end nearing, but it never quite seemed to come.

Your incoherent pleas of being left alone continued as you felt muscular arms wrap around your figure; your sobs getting louder as you felt yourself being picked up, and then laid down on the plush mattress that still held the remnants of your previous feat with the man above you.

You didn't realise you had been thrashing until a hand grabbed onto your wrists, bringing them together as Toji used his weight to pin your struggling body down, his other arm coming around to pull you into his chest, effectively muffling out your screams.

Your sobs took a while to die out; leaving your eyes burning, throat dry, and the throbbing pain in your head worsening by the second as you continued to stare at the chipped ceiling past his shoulder. The same ceiling you had stared up at as he had ruthlessly rutted into your cunt, calling you “his obedient little slut”- “his cumdump”.

That’s what you’ll always be, isn't it?

You felt the grip around your body loosen, the weight lifting off of you slightly as your eyes came in level with his face. He held an unreadable expression like always. A bitter laugh escaped your throat as you looked back on all the times you had dreamed of the scar next to his lip twitching up, only for you.

“Stop it.” His voice was smooth, your body instinctively reacting to his command. You hated it. But you still did have control over your words,

“Fuck off”

You saw his eyes darken, his hand moving up to grab your jaw harshly,

“What was that?”

Smack!

Your palm burned as it landed, the skin of his cheek already tinting a deeper shade of crimson.

Heavy silence hung in the room.

You gasped in shock as you felt a pair of lips crash down onto yours, Toji’s tongue making its way into your mouth as you groaned. You contemplated biting his tongue, but the rational part of your brain seemed to be dulling out more and more the longer that his tongue remained clashing with yours, his hands moving up your abdomen to grope your chest, pinching and tugging at your sensitive nipples.

You shut your legs together as his hand tried to slither in between, but your efforts were to no avail as he grabbed onto your thigh, holding it away, not even wasting a second to dip his fingers into your heat. You felt your face heat up at the wetness he found there. Toji moved back to sit on his knees, thumb circling your clit as you tried not to let out any more sounds of pleasure.

“You hate me huh? Then what’s this?” His fingers pumped in faster inside of you making you arch your back, a cry of shame leaving your mouth.

Toji grabbed onto your thighs to push them up to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulders and biting at the tender skin he found. A loud moan left you as you felt him line up with your entrance, the tip already making you feel the stretch of his huge girth.

You opened your eyes, only to be met with the same chipped ceiling once again. Tears welled up in your eyes, making your vision blurry as you felt a sob bubbling in your chest, pitying your own resolve for breaking so soon.

But then you felt something rub against your cheek. A calloused thumb brushing away the tears as a forehead came down to press against yours, and you found your orbs locked onto the malicious ones of the man you had wrecked your sanity for.

“You are…” he sighs out, and you grunt as he slides deeper into you, “...the only thought that plagues my mind.”

His lips meld with yours once more as he finishes his sentence, both of your moans being muffled against each other’s mouth.

“...all-the-damn-fucking-time” he thrusts into you in between words. It's the closest he’s come to being gentle as his strokes, though slow, still hit deep inside of your dripping cunt. His hips jut into you more intensely as you bite his lip, hands moving up to entangle themselves into his dark locks.

You were crying and moaning and screaming all at the same time as his cock hit all the right spots, the pain of his huge member still being evident even after it had fucked out your pussy countless times. But it was drowned out by the pleasure as his fingers found your clit once more, hastily rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves as he picked up his pace. You found your face contorting in pleasure soon enough, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts as you felt your climax coming.

“C’mon, go ahead, cream all around my cock like the good girl you are.” He grunted, voice deep and dripping in honey.

The coil in the pit of your stomach snapped as his tongue licked its way up from your neck to your jaw. Toji continued fucking into you as you rode out your orgasm, your body spasming from the overstimulation as you felt your insides being filled with thick spurts of cum. Toji groaned, pulling back to look at the sight of your cum-filled cunt, collecting the slickness that had dripped out of your hole with his thumb, only to push it back inside.

You were too tired to move a muscle, too tired to cry or curse him as he got up, walking out the bedroom door. The hollow feeling once again flooded your chest as you shut your eyes, hoping to wake up from this endless nightmare.

Your body jerked awake as you felt something cool slide against your thigh. You snapped your eyes open, lifting your head, only to find the man you had just cussed out a thousand different ways sitting on the edge of the bed, a wet cloth in his hand. You were too stunned to say anything, staring at him as he inched forward, continuing his task of cleaning up the mess.

You let your head fall back against the mattress, sighing as the conflicting thoughts in your mind continued to race on. You found yourself being lifted, a blanket being put over you before your head was pulled into a warm chest, arms wrapping around you as a hand cradled the back of your head. Your thoughts all disappeared away, the familiarity of his body becoming almost cozy as sleep took over your senses. You thought you heard him mutter something, but then again, you might as well have dreamt it.

----------

Toji found his hand lingering over the door handle as he glanced at your slumbering figure. Sighing, he walked back over to cover you with the blanket that you had kicked off.

He found his own mind flooded with conflicting feelings as he walked out of your building. He had never stayed the night before. Moreover, he was trying to find a justification for the three cursed words he had muttered last night.

He decided to blame it on the nicotine that was clogging his system. Even though he had felt his high clearing as soon as he had seen you sobbing and moving away from him, your face filled with disgust. He never wanted to see you feel that way about him again.

He looked down at the golden band clutched tightly in his palm. The metal was starting to rust. He was surprised your curious little mind didn’t notice, didn't ask him why - because real gold didn’t rust. He found his mind flashing back to the first time you had asked him,

“Are you...seeing someone?”

He hadn’t known you for too long then, but the tug in his chest each time you were around made him want to disappear out of existence.

You made him want to lose all restraint, and what would the man be if he lost his sense of identity, the only armour he harboured; his rigid demeanour.

The lie had rolled off his tongue easily enough, switching over the band on his index finger to his ring finger under the table. Lifting it up for you to see, he had felt his heart clench at the flicker of sadness in your eyes. But that seemed to work as even more proof for why he had to draw a boundary around himself.

You burned like a thousand fires, your brightness blinding, your warmth creeping up to thaw the ice around his heart.

It terrified him.

How he always ended up coming back for more, how he ended up breaking a little more each time his name slipped past your sweet lips, how he’d vowed to destroy anything that dared cause you agony. Even if it meant destroying himself.

Toji Fushiguro finally knew the answer to his question.

He too, would go down with a smile if it was you lighting the match to his pyre, if it was you ripping the wings off his back.

After all you were the only light in his life, his precious sun.

How does it matter if he burns himself out trying to get closer to you?

#fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk hcs #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen tw #toji x you #toji fic #jujutsu kaisen angst #sukuna x reader #yuji x reader

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