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ickadori · 9 months

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hi i’m going feral over the dynamic w uraume, reader, and sukuna. uraume hating reader but they can’t lie and say the way she looks at now BOTH sukuna and uraume as if he were the night sky but they were thd stars in it… still, they say they don’t like her at all! annoying as she is.

even if she’s left alone with them while sukuna is out. and especially if she’s needy and wow sukuna isn’t here to fix it. ugh, uraume HATES her. totally for sure, no lie at all.

sorry it’s just such an AWOOOOBARKBARKHOOWWWLL dynamic </3

[cws] fem reader. brief mention of sukuna treating his workers poorly lmao. poly. this mainly focuses on uraume/reader.

Uraume hates you, sparingly.

There are days where they grow so annoyed by you that they fear they may have to bind their hands to keep from squeezing at your throat. But there are also days where they find their interest mildly piqued by you, and can therefore tolerate you more than usual — today is one of those days.

They stand quite a distance away as they watch you cling onto Sukuna, your face twisted into one of despair as you beg him not to make you leave (ever the drama queen). He pays you no mind, one arm keeping you from falling over yourself while the other three pack your clothes away into a trunk.

“Ryo, I don’t want to go!” Ryo. Tuh. The first time you had uttered that shortening of his name, Uraume had prepared themself to finally see you be disciplined. It was terrible enough that you referred to him as just Sukuna, but to forego that as well and address him by such a casual title?

They had been sure that you’d be sporting a bruised face for a few days, or perhaps cradling a broken limb if the master was feeling particularly slighted, but instead, Lord Sukuna had only regarded you with low, hooded eyes and a ghost of a smile.

“Your wants are of no concern to me.” Sukuna says, and Uraume vividly remembers him asking them just the other day if you ‘wanted’ for anything.

Uraume was woken by a dark presence weighing heavy on their chest, and their eyes quickly open to see Sukuna looming over them, his own eyes narrowed into slits.

“Yes, my Lord?” There’s a slight waver in their voice.

“That woman…does she want for anything?” Uraume glances to the large, open window in their room, the sun still hidden away, and then slowly turns back to the curse.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“The date of her birth is approaching.” Uraume has enough sense not to gape. The King of Curses planning on getting a birthday gift for a human of all things — how absurd! “She claims not to want anything, but you know how women are.”

Uraume blinks at the pensive look that suddenly takes over his face, one hand raising to rub at his chin. After a beat of silence, Sukuna focuses his gaze back on Uraume.

“If you have no use for your tongue, then I’ll gladly take it.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna, I was just recalling what she had mentioned in passing the other day.” He silently urges them to continue. “She frequently reminisces about the fountain in her village and how she wishes she could visit it again - I assume it holds some sort of sentimental value in it.”

Both parties are well aware that the fountain has long since been destroyed; the stone holding it together having been smashed the night Sukuna single-handedly pillaged the small village, and the water, once so crystal clear your face could be reflected in it, had been stained a deep, dark red with the blood of your friends and family.

“Shit.” Sukuna seems a touch distressed, and Uraume balks. It earns them a stinging on their chest, their sleep clothes staining red before their skin quickly heals itself. “Fix your face.”

“Forgive me, Lord Sukuna.”

He ponders for a moment. “I’ll have a fountain erected in the courtyard. I’ll send her away while it’s being built - you’ll accompany her.”

Shit.

Construction was set to start today, hence why you were being driven out of the palace, and Uraume had been tasked with taking you away to a neighboring village until the fountain was completed.

Before, Uraume would have been ashamed of themself for seemingly falling so low in Sukuna’s graces that they had been demoted to a mere pet sitter, but the Lord saw you as so much more. He trusted no one with you, and had killed plenty a servants for so much as letting their gaze linger on you a bit too long, but here he was trusting you, arguably his most prized possession, in their care.

It spoke volumes of how much trust Sukuna put into them, hence Uraume’s agreeable mood.

“You’re sending me off to my death, aren’t you?” You blanche, eyes darting between the two people in your room, and Uraume gives nothing away as they watch you with a neutral expression. “They’re going to cook me, aren’t they?” You let out a harrowing moan, even going so far as to drop your head into your hands, and Sukuna regards you with a painfully patient look.

“You would have done well in the story telling business - you’re highly dramatic.” You go limp, one of Sukuna’s arms quickly snatching you up, and another one comes down to snag ahold of your chin and turn your face up to him, large fingers squishing your cheeks together. “Enough with the theatrics, woman. You’re not being killed just yet.”

“Just yet?”

“The two of you are going on a trip. It’ll be no longer than two weeks.”

“A trip to where? The afterli—!” Sukuna spins you out of his arms, and Uraume acts quickly, their own arms shooting out to steady you. “Ryomen!”

“You may leave, Uraume.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Uraume had been attempting to pacify you ever since the two of you had finally reached your designation: an inn a bit of ways into the countryside.

You had annoyingly cried a good ways of the journey over, only stopping when you had fallen asleep on Uraume’s shoulder, and when you had awoken, you had stayed quiet as you sulked to yourself.

Dramatic.

The two of you were now in the bath, Uraume’s hand gently moving the soapy cloth up and down the expanse of your back. You were still quiet, something completely uncharacteristic of your usual self. Even when Sukuna left the palace for weeks at a time you didn’t act like this. Perhaps you really did believe that he sent you away to be killed…

A part of them wanted to pick at you for their own amusement, but another part of them was slightly…worried. A very minuscule part. A displeased you would inevitably lead to a displeased Sukuna, and Uraume simply refused to let that happen.

“Lord Sukuna’s business will likely be finished before two weeks.” Knowing his master, the man would ensure the workers hands didn’t stop moving until their fingers were worked to the bone - the project would surely take no longer than a week, at the latest.

You give no indication to having heard them, and Uraume rinses the soap from your skin, silently acknowledging just how soft and supple the flesh is. “Have you decided what you’ll have for dinner?”

“You mean my last meal?” You quip, and Uraume grasps the wooden bucket filled with water at their feet. “You have some nerve, Uraume. Bathing me and plumping me up before you drive the knife in. Just know that—ah!” You splutter as a wave of water comes crashing down against your head, and they reach around you to dab at your eyes with a dry cloth.

“I think a hearty soup would do you well. I noticed that your voice sounds a bit scratchier than usual. I suspect you’ll come down with a cold in a few days.” Uraume turns you so you’re facing them, and they pause when they notice the tears gathering in your eyes.

“Did he grow bored of me?” Your voice cracks, and Uraume tilts their head. Humans and their needless worries.

“You are a very silly girl.” You sniff. “We both know very well what has become of the people that bored Lord Sukuna.” Their hands move on instinct, thumbs flicking away the tears that slipped free. “Do you really believe that I would be treating you so kindly if my master had signed off on your death?”

“You dumped water on my head.”

“Lukewarm water. It could have been boiling.”

You laugh, a soft, breathy sound, and Uraume isn’t pleased to admit that they can see the appeal that Sukuna sees in you.

“Let’s quickly finish so you can eat.”

“Is it any better?” Uraume questions, careful of their strength as they push their fingers into the plush flesh of your waist. You had found yourself tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, and once questioned, you had complained about a stiffness in your shoulders and lower back, prompting them to undo your robe and attempt to work the kinks out…kinks that they had yet to find.

“Mm-nn,” you sigh, cheek resting on the pillow as your lashes flutter, and they add a bit more pressure, oiled hands sliding up the sides of your waist, fingers brushing against the sides of your breasts, before they’re pushing down between your shoulder blades. “It’s…it’s lower now.”

“Lower?” They let their hands slip further down, thumbs pushing into your lower back and moving in wide, slow circles. They can feel you wiggling underneath them from where they straddle your bare behind, and Uraume focuses their ministrations in that area. “I suppose you are a bit tense - is this better?”

“L-Lower.”

Their brows furrow as they shuffle back so they’re sat atop the backs of your thighs, only for understanding to settle on their features at the slick sheen between your inner thighs. Uraume hums, a single finger moving to trace down your slit. You gasp, butt jutting out, and they tsk with a shake of their head.

“What a roundabout way to say you want me to pleasure you.” You hide your face into the blankets, and they allow their finger to push past wet, puffy lips to get to your clit. “Lord Sukuna instructed me to give you everything that you desired, and if sex is what you desire from me, then you will have it. There’s no need to beat around the bush.”

After Sukuna had first demanded that Uraume ‘teach you how to take him’, he had also given them the task of satisfying you whenever he was not around. You had only come to them twice so far - once at the end of your monthly cycle, a time where you could frequently be found moaning in Sukuna’s lap and pawing at his chest, and twice when Sukuna had ‘punished’ you by refusing to mate with you, forcing you to come to Uraume as a last, desperate resort.

You don’t answer them with words but moans, short breathless sounds that leave you with every swipe of their finger against your clit. Their free hand moves to a plump cheek, and they spread you open, eyes taking in the way your drooling hole clenches around nothing and oozes slick.

Their finger moves from your clit to your hole, and they add in another finger before slowly pushing in, silently marveling at the way your walls greedily suck them in, a low squelch sounding as your arousal bubbles up around the digits.

“Uraume,” you gasp, voice heavy with desire, and there’s a stirring in their groin that they pointedly ignore. They pull their fingers back until they slip out of you and spread them apart, your slick webbing between the two digits, and then they’re plunging them right back in. “Uraume!”

“Does this please you?” Their voice is breathier, heavier, and your ass ripples with the force from their hand hitting against you. “Or would you prefer something else? Perhaps my mouth?”

You moan out something indiscernible, but Uraume decides to take it as an enthusiastic yes, a decision that they refuse to dwell on as they push your thighs apart and lay on their stomach in between them, thumbs keeping your lips spread as they lick a long stripe up your cunt.

You gasp and twitch, and they let you move as you see fit, simply adjusting their position to keep up with you. Their tongue flattens over your bud, nose nuzzled against your clenching hole, and the scent of you nearly overwhelms them.

They venture up a tad, tongue now thrusting into you, and the heat of your pussy is enough to make beads of sweat trickle down their nose to mix in with your essence. They push in deep, tongue rubbing against your walls and curling up before withdrawing, pools of your slick collected and messily gulped down.

Uraume now understands why they so frequently catch Sukuna with his head buried between your thighs, hands keeping you pinned as he feasts on your cunt. Their master has never once eaten a meal they’ve cooked for him with such hunger and passion, and Uraume hates to admit that nothing they make could ever amount to the taste of you.

Their hands move to lock around your hips, your movements preventing them from mouthing at you the way they desperately need to, and they pay no heed to the way you sob into the sheets, pussy tightening around their tongue as you come with a breathless shriek of their name.

You relax in their hold, and they let their tongue slip from inside you, the muscle once again parting your folds to give slow, gentle licks to your twitching clit. You weakly call their name, and they pull away from you with a wet, messy kiss to the sensitive bud, hands going back to massaging into your skin as they struggle to calm their racing pulse.

Your soft snores filter into their ears a few moments later, and they observe you as they’re smacked with a new revelation.

Uraume doesn’t hate you, not one bit.

#uraume x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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fluentmoviequoter · 7 months

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Yell at Me and Tell Me You Love Me

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: You distance yourself from Tim because you think he is still in love with Isabel. When he confronts you about why you've been avoiding him, you accidentally tell him the truth.

Warnings: angst to fluff, argument, friends to lovers, the timeline of Tim and Isabel's relationship is probably off but I needed to make everything fit

Word Count: 3.0k+ words

A/N: The first title I typed was "Yell at Me, Tell Me You Love Me, But Don't Push Me Away" and I'd just like to say (a very sarcastic) you're welcome for shortening it. (Unless you like the original, then I'm sorry.)

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

You met Tim Bradford less than a week after he left the Army and quickly became one of his closest friends. Despite the secret kisses shared without thought, holding each other tightly for no reason, and falling asleep in each other’s arms, you continue to be just friends with Tim Bradford. Being part of his life for so long means you’ve seen more than most. You were at Tim and Isabel’s wedding, gave him a place to stay after the divorce, and you fell in love with him without even trying.

Since his divorce from Isabel, you’ve shared a few more thoughtless kisses, said “I love you” before ending phone calls, and slept in the same bed simply for comfort on more than one occasion. You know you need to stop, however, because Tim is still attached to Isabel, as far as you can tell. She calls occasionally, and he rushes to answer the phone, leaving you like an afterthought as the woman he truly loves becomes available again. You’re unwilling to be a rebound or a distraction while Tim works on his relationship with Isabel, but you can’t decide how to set a boundary you don’t want.

It's nearly midnight, and you can’t sleep with thoughts of Tim running through your head. As you consider the idea of simply giving him space, letting him know that you both have things you need to deal with before you can be his friend again, your phone rings. Tim’s name and face light up your dark room and life before you answer.

“Hey,” you greet.

“Hi. I- did I wake you up?” Tim asks.

“No, I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither. Are you okay?”

When Tim asks that question, you realize that the only thing you want from or for Tim is for him to be happy. Alone, in the dark, you acknowledge that the only way for him to be happy is if you are willing to move out of the way of what he really wants. If you step away and give him room to work out his feelings toward Isabel, maybe he can find what he wants and focus entirely on that.

Tim says your name, and you rush to say, “Yeah, I’m fine, just- just thinking.”

“You want me to come over?” he offers.

“No,” you answer quickly – too quickly. “It’s late, and I’m really fine. Are you?”

Tim sighs before answering, “I guess. Isabel called today to tell me she’s going back to rehab. She wants me to come by once a week, act as part of her support plan.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea?”

“I enabled Isabel for so many years that I don’t know.”

“You’ll do the right thing, Tim. You always do.”

A memory of last week, when Tim kissed you during a walk on the beach, flashes through your mind. Was that the right thing?

“Or you have too much faith in me,” he argues.

“I think I have just the right amount of faith in you.”

“It’s your turn to pick dinner on Friday.”

You see an opening to pull back and tighten your grip on your phone as you ask, “Actually, can we skip this week? I’m swamped and don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’d hate to leave you waiting.”

Tim hesitates before agreeing, “Sure. Just let me know when you’re free. We can do whatever you want.”

“I will,” you reply softly. “I’m getting tired now, though, so goodnight, Tim. And good luck with Isabel and your decision.”

“Yeah, thanks. Goodnight.”

You bite your tongue to keep from saying I love you one last time, and as you set your phone down, actively pulling away from your best friend, you want to call him back and ask if you ever had a chance. Instead, you press your face into your pillow and force yourself to think about other things as you fall asleep.

✯✯✯✯✯

You sit in bed and stare at your phone as your finger hovers over the star beside Tim’s contact. When you remove him from your favorites list, everything will begin to feel real. Just as you lower your finger, your phone buzzes with a text from Tim. Three simple words make your heart pound as you read them.

Call me, please.

You want more information before you decide to call him or not. Distancing yourself will be hard enough without Tim vying for your attention the entire time you pull away. Clicking the star so it disappears, you make the first step in separating your life from Tim Bradford’s.

“Please be the right choice,” you whisper, staring at his contact photo. “I just want you to be happy. Happier than I could make you.”

An hour later, your phone rings, and you send Tim to voicemail. If it is an emergency, he’ll leave a voicemail. With each unanswered call and text, the time between them lengthens. Maybe Tim has already realized you weren’t as important to him as you both seemed to think.

By the end of the first day not talking to Tim, you want to scream and cry simultaneously. It’s hard to lose a friend, but harder to lose the one person you love. Reminding yourself constantly that you’re doing it for Tim and his happiness, you don’t give yourself time to think about how much your decision and the distance are hurting you. You knew Tim would hurt for a while before finding his way back to Isabel, but you weren’t expecting to feel like a piece of your heart had been ripped out. That’s what you get for giving it to Tim without telling him, you suppose.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning, someone knocks on your door as the sun rises over Los Angeles. You roll out of bed and pull a sweatshirt over your head before looking through the peephole. Tim stands on the other side of the door and speaks before you can think about pretending to be gone.

“I know you’re here,” Tim calls. “I don’t have a lot of time, just wanted to check on you before work.”

After you open the door, you look out at him and give him a closed-lip smile. He looks at you like he can see straight through you, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he could.

“We made a huge arrest last night and a couple of us are going out tonight to celebrate,” he says instead. “Do you want to come out with us?”

“Uh, no, but thanks for the offer. I’ve got a lot going on right now, and-“

“Like what?”

You tilt your head to the side, wondering what he means.

“What’s got you so busy that you can’t even text me back?”

“I- I don’t want to talk about it right now, Tim,” you say, opting to deflect rather than lie. “But congratulations on the arrest and have fun tonight.”

Tim’s jaw tightens as he nods. You watch as he walks away, wishing you could run after him. As you close your door, you decide that slowly pulling back will not work; if you want to give Tim room to find his way back to Isabel, you must leave him.

Pushing your fist against the closed door, you take a deep breath before walking through your place and gathering everything that reminds you of Tim. After placing it in a box, you shove it into your closet. Next, you turn off the notifications in your phone, so you won’t be tempted to answer when he calls or texts. The hurt of losing Tim worsens with each action as you pull yourself further away from him.

“Please be happy,” you beg as you close the door on your box of memories.

✯✯✯✯✯

“You’re grumpier than usual,” Nolan notices. “I mean- sorry,” he adds quickly.

“Timothy,” Angela calls. “A word?”

“No,” Tim replies.

“Bradford, now.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he stands and walks to her desk. She gestures for him to sit, and while he should feel like a kid in the principal’s office, he feels more like a man being told his wife is divorcing him and having to maintain a brave face even as his heart shatters in his chest.

“What do you want, Lopez?” he asks. “No small talk.”

“I wouldn’t dream of trying with you, Timothy. I want to know what’s up with you and why you’re taking it out on everyone here.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“You’re making it our business by pushing your frustration, or whatever it is you’re dealing with, off onto us. Is it Isabel? I heard she’s back in rehab.”

“No,” Tim answers, scoffing as he leans back. “It’s not Isabel.”

“Is there any chance that part of you still cares about her, and even if you’re lying to me and yourself about it, Isabel still affects you?” Angela asks.

“No, Lopez. I can guarantee that this has nothing to do with Isabel. She asked me to visit her as part of her support plan and I told her I would think about it, but the ‘source of my frustration’ hasn’t even let me do that.”

“Timothy, just tell me what’s bothering you and maybe I can help,” she offers quietly.

Tim stands as he replies, “You can’t. The only one who can help me with this is avoiding me.”

Angela’s brows furrow as she wonders who he could be referring to. Tim is adamant this isn’t about Isabel, but Angela can’t think of anyone else with this level of pull over him.

“Let me know if you change your mind and want to talk, Tim.”

“Will do,” he answers, though he and Angela know it’s a lie.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Isabel!” Tim calls, jogging to catch up to her. “Hey.”

“Hi,” she replies, hugging him quickly. “I thought you were going to call my sponsor with your decision.”

“I was, and I did. But I also wanted to let you know, in person, that I can’t be part of your support plan. At least, not right now, not after everything I did over the last few years.”

Isabel nods as she guesses, “You feel partially responsible and don’t want to risk letting me fall back into my old ways. I get it, Tim, but thanks for considering it.”

Tim nods, and Isabel can tell something is bothering him.

“You want to stay? Talk for a bit?” she asks.

“I can’t. I’ve got a work thing,” he replies. “Thank you, though, and good luck with everything. I’ll be back by when I have some time.”

“Tim,” Isabel interjects, wrapping her hand around his forearm. “I recognize that look. I only saw it once, and it didn’t turn out well for me. Whatever it is you want to say to whoever it is, just say it.”

“I don’t know how,” Tim admits.

“My take: if she’s important enough to affect you like this, you’ll find a way to let her know what you’re feeling.”

“What if she doesn’t care, Isabel?”

“I can’t tell you what to do, Tim, but I can tell you that waiting too long doesn’t make things any easier… I have to go, I’ve got a group meeting, but, Tim, what’s worth the risk: saying something or keeping it quiet until it’s too late?”

Tim nods before he waves as Isabel turns toward another building. Tim texts Nolan that won't be at the celebratory gathering while he walks to his truck. He knows where he needs to go but doesn’t know how to deal with everything once he gets there. Hopefully, seeing you will give him the right words to say.

✯✯✯✯✯

You broke your heart trying to let Tim be happy and keep yourself from getting hurt in the fallout of losing him. Your house seems bare, every picture and memory of Tim tucked away in a failed attempt to keep your mind off him. A knock draws you out of your miserable reverie. Whoever it is knocks again when you leave it unanswered, the sound harsher and louder than the first time.

“Coming!” you call.

You open the door without thinking and are surprised to see Tim standing on the other side.

“Can I come in?” he asks in response to your stunned silence.

Say no, your mind says, but your heart makes you step back and invite him inside again. Pushing him away the second time will be much worse, but you can’t seem to stay away from Tim.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Tim says.

He leans against your kitchen counter with his arms crossed, waiting for an explanation you don’t want to give. The whole point of making room for him and Isabel to reconcile (like he wants) was for Tim to figure it out himself.

“Ready for what?” you ask defensively.

Tim shakes his head and scoffs as he tightens his arms over his chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that? After everything we’ve been through together, you really expect to avoid me without an explanation or question?”

“Everything we’ve been through?” you repeat incredulously. “We’re friends, Tim. Friends stop hanging out when one of them gets busy.”

“Oh, now we’re friends? Were we friends when you crawled into my bed three weeks ago, or when we were making out on the beach? Because that didn’t feel very friendly,” he snaps.

“No, we weren’t friends; I was just a woman who made a mistake,” you reply.

“Am I your friend or am I a mistake?” Tim demands. “Because you can’t seem to keep your story straight. It’s a simple question: why are you avoiding me?”

“If I’m such a bad friend, why does it matter, Tim?”

Tim pushes off the counter, stepping toward you. His jaw clenches, and his biceps flex as he raises his arms in question. You would kiss him any other time, but right now, you’re angry that he can’t just trust you are busy. Granted, it is a lie, but you don’t appreciate the accusation, which is likely your emotions talking.

“I’m not answering your question unless you answer mine,” he says.

“Then I guess we’re not going anywhere.”

Tim looks up at the ceiling before asking, “Why?”

“I’m not going to stand here and argue with you all night. If you think I’m a liar, just say it, Tim!”

“Well, you are the one keeping secrets.”

“So, what, you think I’m avoiding you? Then get out and let me!” you demand.

“And go where? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not surrounded by friends, and I thought you were one of the few I had, but I can see now that I made a mistake.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry that your precious, perfect little world decided to turn you into this,” Tim seethes, looking into your eyes as he steps toward the door.

You move with him, chest to chest, as you yell, “And I’m sorry that you couldn’t figure out I love you enough to let you go back to Isabel!”

Tim falls silent, and your chest heaves with anger. You realize what you admitted, drop your gaze to Tim’s chest, and lick your lips before lowering your voice to speak again.

“Maybe I was stupid for chasing after you when I knew you weren’t interested, that your heart would always be with someone else. I thought that someday you’d realize that everything I’ve done over the last few years has been for you; I’ve been chasing you just to find out that I never had a chance.”

“I don’t want to go back to Isabel,” Tim says after a moment of tense silence. “I went to see her today to tell her that I couldn’t be there for her anymore. If I’ve been acting different, chasing after someone, it’s because I’m falling for you.”

“You don’t fall,” you argue quietly.

“You deserve better,” Tim adds. “I don’t remember what it’s like to share my life with someone who cares about me and wants the same thing.”

You nod and try to step back, but Tim moves with you. The couch is right behind you, and you have nowhere to go, so you look into Tim’s eyes.

“I am not in love with Isabel,” Tim repeats. “You really started avoiding me because you thought I was?”

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“You could have asked instead of forcing me to start a yelling match for answers,” Tim replies, his lips quirking up into a small smile.

“I want you to be happy, Tim,” you explain. “And I thought that couldn’t happen if I was in the way.”

“You’re not in the way. You’re exactly where I want you.”

“Where is that?” you ask, leaning toward Tim.

“Right in the middle of my life.”

You raise your arms over Tim’s shoulders, smiling as his hands meet your waist. Tim pushes you against the back of the couch as he kisses you. He moves a hand up to cradle your head as you move with him. This kiss differs from the others; there is a need for more, an apology, and love coursing through you and Tim. Tim pulls back, and you pant for air as he places his hands on either side of your hips and leans forward.

“Just talk to me next time, would you?” he requests.

“And miss out on this? No way,” you argue.

“Don’t seem so excited about getting to yell at me for so long.”

“You’ve never kissed me like that before,” you say before you distract Tim by moving your hands to his chest.

“You’ve never told me you love me before today.”

“Sorry I had to avoid you for a while to confess it.”

“Maybe we can do it again soon, without the insults before.”

“I don’t know,” you muse. “Insults and yelling are kind of your thing.”

Tim cuts you off, kissing you again and tipping you over the back of the couch. You laugh as he catches himself and hovers over you.

“I love you too, even though you were too blind to see I felt the same,” Tim whispers.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford angst #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie abc #requests #fem!reader #hanna writes✯

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menhera-info-archieve · 1 year

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in case you haven't seen it yet, here's the menhera 101 article by HoshiCandy from Kei Club Issue 3. not sure if i'll post the other menhera related articles from this issue or not, so consider checking the link in source if you're interested.

i'm also leaving a text transcription under the cut for anyone that may benefit from that

Menhera 101

Menhera fashion has quickly been gaining popularity worldwide! This fast growth has come with its fair share of misunderstandings about the community and style. Menhera artist and designer HoshiCandy is here with a lesson on menhera’s origins, history, and basics. Find more of her work on the pages before and after this article!

What is Menhera?

“Menhera” can be thought of as “a person who seeks mental wellbeing”.

The word “Menhera” was born in Japan in 2001, on the “Mental Health” board of anonymous forum 2ch, where users discussed their wellbeing. The users of this board were named “Mental Healthers” which was shortened to “Menhera”.

The Menhera community covers anything that might cause one mental suffering, such as: physical illness or disability, depression, anxiety, eating disorders, bullying, hyper-sexuality, sexism, homophobia, etc. Importantly, there is no need for a formal diagnosis, as the focus is on how you feel, and that you want to feel better.

It is difficult to talk about these topics in Japanese society without being heavily stigmatized. Menhera is a community to speak safely without that stigma. Of course, this stigma and need for community when it comes to one’s mental wellbeing is not limited to Japan, and that is why menhera has grown in the west as well.

Since the creation of the word in 2001, there have been several manga published with “Menhera” in the title, many Visual Kei songs about it, Menhera idol groups, and several menhera fashion brands.

However, an unfortunate addition to all this has been the discovery of the word in mainstream media...

Just as the topic of illness is heavily stigmatized in Japanese society, the word “Menhera” itself became quickly stigmatized and stereotyped as “an attention seeking, troublesome person” or “an overly attached girlfriend” (aka “yandere”). If you were to speak to a Japanese person about “Menhera”, this would most likely be what they would think you meant. This stereotype tends to be referred to as “Menhera Kei” in Japanese which is why we avoid the use of “kei” for Menhera in particular.

Despite all this, the true menhera community has continued to grow.

Menhera Motifs

Artists in the Menhera community created many works of “Vent Art” art that expresses their feelings and suffering. When this art was printed onto clothing, Menhera fashion was born.

These are some themes you will commonly see in Menhera:

Medication

Suicide

Self-harm

Hospitals

Sex and BDSM

Social Media Addiction

Heartbreak

Wearing Menhera art printed on clothing serves as a way of literally wearing one’s feelings on one’s sleeves. It turns invisible suffering visible, and fights against the stigma driven silence. This means that Menhera fashion is highly confrontational, with graphic depictions of illness symptoms. Although the onlooker may feel discomfort, the Menhera style says “this is my true reality, don’t pretend it doesn’t exist!”

Depending on the feelings of the wearer, Menhera fashion also says “although I am sick, I can still be ‘kawaii’” or “although I appear ‘kawaii’, on the inside I am suffering”.

Turning the invisible visible, forcing the silence to be broken, and challenging kawaii culture, these are the goals of Menhera fashion.

The Menhera Silhouette

Carefully avoiding a highly theatrical or OTT (over-the-top) look is important for maintaining the integrity of the goals of menhera. Menhera is a very casual style, with few accessories and light makeup. The key is for a coord to centre on Menhera imagery, whether vent art or text-focused designs, printed onto clothing.

Be careful not to dress up as the characters depicted in vent art, who are often costumey, gory, and OTT.

Menhera Coord checklist:

Printed Menhera art

Byojaku/Minimal makeup

Not OTT/Few accessories

Flat Shoes

[optional] Oversized top

[optional] Hime bangs

[optional] twintails

Colors can vary: a pastel yume look, or a gothic yami look, both are fine!

The makeup style is called “Byojaku” meaning “sickly/weak”. Reddish colors are applied to areas around the eyes to give the impression of crying or illness. The rest of the face is kept plain without much color.

A Note of Caution

The Menhera community is about healing, and seeking recovery and wellbeing. It advocates getting help, medication, therapy, and receiving support through your recovery journey.

True Menhera never encourages or enables harmful behaviors, and never glorifies them. Menhera fashion is an alternative way of expressing your suffering without self-harm. Menhera fashion empowers the individual through their recovery, but does not empower harmful behaviors.

There are some, sometimes labeled by the community as “Wannabe Menhera”, who mistook the meaning of “menhera” after seeing its rise in popularity, as it being trendy to fake mental illness. They engage in behaviors such as posting self-harm photos (real or faked) to social media with the tag #menhera, and other attention-seeking behaviors.

While this is the opposite of what the Menhera community stands for, is harmful to the unfortunate viewers of these photos, and creates further stigma against the community...it cannot be ignored that these “Wannabe Menhera”, too, need help and healing.

The Menhera fashion movement is to help you feel comfortable, unashamed, and kawaii in your skin, scars and all. It is NOT for encouraging people to create new scars “for the aesthetic”.

If you are struggling with mental or physical suffering, thoughts, or behaviors that cause harm to yourself or others, please seek help. If you do not believe you deserve help, you do, please seek help. If you believe you are faking it, you likely are not, your feelings are valid, please seek help.

Don’t have access to therapy?

We found a comprehensive list of suicide prevention hotlines at https://ibpf.org/resource/list-international-suicide-hotlines [link no longer working]

There are also free and affordable counseling services online like Better Help and Pride Counseling! Look online to find what option could work for you!

Alternatives to Menhera

After reading all this you may be thinking “the Menhera community sounds good but all the fashion is too restrictive for me” and if so, you’re not alone! But the good news is that you don’t have to wear Menhera fashion to be in the Menhera community.

Look up any of these alternative styles online for examples and more information:

Yamikawaii (“Sickly-cute”) is essentially the aesthetic of Menhera without the activism, a corrupted dark kawaii. Unfortunately the word was trademarked and now suffers from copyright takedowns.

Yumekawaii (“Dreamy-cute”) an aesthetic evolved from Fairy kei to describe everything pastel and kawaii, but with a slight edge, described as “fairytales with poison”.

Marekawaii (“Nightmare-cute”) created as an alternative to Yamikawaii to avoid the copyright issues, and as a counterpart to Yumekawaii. Marekawaii is specifically defined as being open to your own interpretation and style.

Medikawaii (“Medical-cute”) a pastel kawaii aesthetic focusing only on medical motifs, such as medicine and hospitals.

Gurokawaii (“Grotesque-cute”) mixes frightening and disturbing imagery with kawaii. Kyary Pamyu Pamyu helped popularize it.

Iryouu Kei (“Medical Kei”) a Visual Kei substyle with lots of gore and hospital theming, very OTT and theatrical, such as dressing like a nightmare nurse.

Living Doll artists see themselves and their bodies as a canvas to create art and express themselves, often with intricate makeup and body painting. This is a good one to look at if you’re into heavy artistic makeup.

#menhera #info #op #menhera.txt #menhera 101

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dannychai1617 · 8 months

Text

ao3 skin that i made!! (copy code under "keep reading")

it's a messy combination of pieces of code from other people's skins and my own changes

the header image is NOT MINE! it is "Pattern Galaxy Space Planets Vibrant Linear Universe" by Arncil on Redbubble, which i just used as an example for an image you could use!

here are some of the skins that i can remember using as part of this, but i've been building it for years so forgive me if i forget some:

Shortening long tag fields by Xparrot (on ao3)

Slim Shaded by AO3 (on ao3)

Lily Garden by tealtiam (on Tumblr)

AO3 Tag category coloring! by ao3css (on Tumblr)

come back here to my tips or leave a comment if you need some help customizing the code!

Background color: #26303C

Text color: #CBC6C3

Header color: #46626D

Accent color: #993F33

steps to create a new skin using this code:

log into ao3 account

go to dashboard >> skins

click "create site skin"

make sure TYPE is "site skin"

add a unique title

copy all code below

paste into field 'CSS'

click on "use wizard" at the top

copy and paste the four colors written above into their corresponding boxes

click SUBMIT

click USE

how to customize this skin:

FONT SIZE: at the very top of the code, change the "90%" to be bigger or smaller to change the font size within a fic

MAIN COLORS: to change the main colors, select "use wizard" when editing the skin and replace any of the four hex codes under "Background color:", "Text color:", "Header color:", and "Accent color:"

SECONDARY COLORS: find all hex codes within the code and change those numbers as you like! i changed all colors to match with the color palette of the header photo that i chose to make it feel cohesive

TAG COLORS: towards the end, the "relationship", "character", and "freeform" tags alternate three colors to make them easy to separate. in this skin they are all very similar, so you can change those to be whatever colors you like!

HEADER PHOTO: find the link towards the end of the code right before the warning tags and replace it with a link to any photo you like! it loops, so you don't have to worry about sizing or anything

FONT: i'm unsure how exactly to do this, but the in-fic font is currently set to Georgia Serif, so i suppose just go find that and replace it with your preferred font!

BORDER STYLES: wherever you see the code "border-style:", replace the word that comes after it with one of these options: none, solid, dashed, dotted, double, groove, ridge, inset, outset, or hidden

WARNING TAGS: at the very end of the code is a list of words or phrases that, when they appear in the tags of a fic, are highlighted in a contrasting color so that they are easy to avoid if necessary. you can add or remove those tags however you like, or change the warning color!

COPY AND PASTE ALL CODE BELOW

#workskin { font-size: 90%; } li.blurb .tags { max-height: 7.5em; overflow-y: auto; } #header { min-height: 0; } #header a, #header fieldset, #header ul.primary, #header ul.primary .current { border: 0; background: 0; } h1 a img { height: 50px; border: 0; } #header .landmark { clear: none; } #header ul.primary { background: rgba(0,0,0,0.65); border-bottom: 1px solid rgba(0,0,0,0.75); } #header ul.primary, #header ul.primary .current, ul.primary.actions a, #header ul.primary .current { color: #CBC6C3; } #header ul.primary .current, #header #search input, #header #search input:focus { background: rgba(0,0,0,0.25); color: #CBC6C3; box-shadow: inset 0 0 3px #131A2A; border-color: #131A2A; } .actions, .actions input { text-transform: lowercase; } blockquote.userstuff { font-family: "Mido", "AUdimat", "Ostrich Sans Rounded","Lucida Grande", sans-serif !important; position: relative; background: rgba(0,0,0,0.1); padding: 2%; border: 1px solid rgba(0,0,0,0.15); box-shadow: 0 0 2px rgba(0,0,0,0.4); } blockquote.userstuff:after { content: "\201D"; right: 0; top: auto; left: auto; } body, .userstuff { font-family: Mido, Georgia, serif; } .heading, .userstuff h3, .userstuff h4 { font-family: "CabinSketch", Georgia,serif; } #main .heading { color: #CBC6C3; } #inner .group, #inner .heading, fieldset, .verbose legend, table, table th, col.name, span.unread, span.replied { outline: none; background: transparent; border-color: #131A2A; border-style: double; box-shadow: none; border-radius: 2em; border-bottom-right-radius: 0; border-top-left-radius: 0; } #inner .group .group .group, col.name { border-style: double; border-color: #CBC6C3; box-shadow: 0 0 2px #000; } #inner .bookmark .user.module, #inner .wrapper { border: 0; border-radius: 0; border-top: 3px double #bbb; box-shadow: none; } .filters { font-size: 90%; } .toggled form, .dynamic form, .secondary, .dropdown { background: #fff url("/images/skins/textures/tiles/white-handmade-paper.jpg"); } a.tag, a.tag:visited, a.tag:link { display: inline-block; padding: 1px 3px; margin: 2px 0px; border: 2px solid #46626D; border-radius: 5px; } .commas li:after { content: ""; } h5.fandoms.heading { color: transparent; } .favorite a.tag { border: none; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #1d3954; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #264663; } .tags li.relationships:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #305475; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #214154; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #294c61; } .tags li.characters:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #31576e; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+1) a.tag { background-color: #234e54; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+2) a.tag { background-color: #2a585e; } .tags li.freeforms:nth-of-type(3n+3) a.tag { background-color: #316269; } .tags li.freeforms a.tag:hover, .tags li.characters a.tag:hover, .tags li.relationships a.tag:hover { background-color: #26303C; color: white; } #header .logo { display: none; } #header ul.primary { box-shadow: none; padding-top: 30px; padding-bottom: 30px; background: #FCC191 url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/8c/bc/ae/8cbcae1760dc88ae8730566337a5d2eb.jpg); background-attachment: fixed; } li.blurb a.tag[href*="suicid"], [href*="suicide"], [href*="Suicide"], [href*="rape"], [href*="Rape"], [href*="consentual"], [href*="Consentual"], [href*="non-con"], [href*="consent issues"], [href*="Kidnapping"], [href*="kidnapping"], [href*="Canibalism"], [href*="cannibalism"], [href*="Cannibalism"], [href*="Dove"], [href*="dead dove do not eat"], [href*="murder"], [href*="Murder"], [href*="harm"], [href*="self harm"], [href*="Harm"], [href*="Torture"], [href*="abduction"], [href*="asphyxiation"], [href*="blood"], [href*="Blood"], [href*="death"], [href*="Death"], [href*="gore"], [href*="Gore"], [href*="incest"], [href*="Incest"], [href*="trauma"], [href*="Trauma"], [href*="torture"] { color: #000000; font-weight: bold; background-color: #993F33; }

#ao3 #ao3 stuff #archive of our own #ao3 skins #links #ao3 site skin #css

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r3dvlvet · 3 days

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Baldur’s Gate 3 companions on being given a nickname (Aka Bex’s attempt at getting the voices of characters down):

Karlach: OH A NICKNAME! Mama K loves a nickname. Hey, solider, how’s about I come up with one for you? *pumps fists* EXCELLENT! I’ll get back to you in the morning, okay?

Shadowheart: I suppose it couldn’t hurt. Lady Shar bids us cloak ourselves with false guises to do her work. Fine, you may call me what name you see fit —— [ tees up a guiding bolt] anything but that

Lae’zel: Chk. We Githyanki take great pride in our names and titles. I am Lae’zel of Cerche K’liir and I would bid you address me as such. Although [pause] I see the merits of this Fay-runian custom. A shortened name is easier to call out in the heat of battle. Very well. You may call me “Lae” if it is easier for you, Istik.

Gale: It would seem that word of my many names during my Blackstaff days have reached far beyond Waterdeep. I am all ears for whatever term you have chosen to bestow upon me. Would you care to hear the origins of the names of my youth…?

Wyll: A rose by any other name would smell just as sweet— You know, I stashed a bottle of Amaian desert wine for a special occasion. What’s say you and I crack it open and brain storm some ideas for our companions together? If we can find Alfira, perhaps she’ll write them in a song

Astarion: A what? [ Astarion.exe has stopped working] I don’t know, it seems quite trivial, does it not? Alright, if you insist on calling me something, then I must return the favor. How about…my little Midnight Snack. [pause] What in the bloody world in a “juice box”?

Jaheira: I have been called many things by many people, cub. You may call me what you like- the names do not bother me, we all fade into history at some point and they will call us many more things when we are gone. Just know that I will only respond to Jaheira or High Harper.

Minsc: You hear that, Boo? Our friend has given us a nickname! My friend, you must give one to Boo as well, it is only fair. [listens to Boo] What? [more listening] Your name is only three letters long? Bah, what does it matter! We will still come up with a name befitting of your stature, won’t we, my friend?

Minthara: A surface dweller custom, to be sure. I did not survive as long as I have to allow my name to be besmirched in such a crude manner. A trip of the tongue, perhaps? Good. Do not allow it to happen again, lest your tongue be separated from your fair skull.

Halsin: The title of First Druid sat heavy on my shoulders for many years, I think I would find any nickname much less weighty.

#bg3 #again these are just my attempts at the dialogue #no hate to any of the character or anything this is just how they sound in my brain #karlach #shadowheart #lae’zel #wyll ravengard #gale dekarios #halsin #minthara #astarion #jaheira #minsc

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polarisjisung · 1 month

Text

BEST THING I NEVER HAD

synopsis: the line between giving up and seeing how much more you can take had always been blurry, tonight it seems nonexistent

wc: 3.1k

pairings: jaemin × fem!reader

genre: angst, hearbreak

warnings: mentions of violence, jaemin's injured, use of petnames, jaemin's oblivious and annoying, jaemin sucks, basically a situationship, slight gaslighting

notes: HAPPY JAEMIN DAY, i have a love hate relationship with this work (I suppose you could say its bittersweet 🤭) anyways here's part one! pls notice the beyoncé inspired title

Despite its softness, you can't help but jump at the sound of knocking against your front door.

just loud enough that you'd hear, but quiet enough that your parents wouldn't. It was a specific pattern of 5 knocks, delivered through the knuckles of an index and middle finger, in true jaemin fashion.

You wonder if its healthy, to be able to recognise the hooded silhouette that stands outside your door, to know someone from nothing but the tapping of their knuckles against a slab of wood, to know exactly the state you'll find him in if you swing the door open like you usually would.

It isn't, you suppose. but healthy had never been the word to describe you and jaemin. not the ungodly dessert bowls you made as midnight snacks together, not the lounging around all day doing nothing and certainly not the cycle of longing you found yourself in.

Time and time again you found yourself tearing yourself apart for him, for his love, and each time it would end with you slowly putting those broken pieces, shreds, of yourself back together, alone and all by yourself.

Though you're not sure you did ever recover fully, like a piece of your heart was lost every time jaemin turned his back to leave and never come back.

Like the tiny fragments of a broken glass, the ones you could never quite see as you sweeped up a mess of shattered glass and would find yourself stepping all over days later.

But he did come back. You suppose that was the problem, he came back every time.

Jaemin had this perfect ability of keeping you on edge, never pushing you far enough to leave, never pushing himself far enough to stay. It was the way he did most things, showing up at your door at a time you weren't sure was morning or night, coming back just before you'd manage to convince yourself he wouldn't, leaving just before your hope that he'd stay would come true. jaemin took this middle path in life that lead to the worst of both worlds, best of none. and it left you unsatisfied every time

Regardless, you'd been craving, almost desperate for his presence, anticipation bubbling in your chest every night since the last you'd seen him, in hopes you'd find a wounded jaemin helplessly stood at your doorstep with sparkly eyes and a smile that told you it would all be alright. it seemed that was the only way you saw him anyways, the way you hated most, injured that is.

So you'd prayed day and night, clasped your hands together and had gotten down on your knees and begged that he'd stay true to his word, that he wouldn't leave and that this wouldn't happen— yet here you were.

You haven't seen jaemin in weeks, but you still remember it all the same, the spark of glee that would ignite within you whenever you heard him at your door.

Tonight his presence makes your chest tighten and your mouth dry up— you feel the way your breaths force themselves through the confines of your throat, almost choking you.

The feeling is foreign and a sharp contrast to the way your cheeks would flush over and your heart would once race at the thought of jaemin.

Tonight you stray far from that love struck awe, eyes clenched so hard you were beginning to see colour. there's a growing lump in your throat that doesn't seem as negligible as before, with each shortened intake of breath it doubles maybe even triples in size— your vision, in spite of your shut eyes, blurrs into an abyss of absolute nothingness

And despite the thick wooden door that separates you, tonight na jaemin's presence feels suffocating.

You're not sure you'd describe it as love, certainly it wasn't that warm feeling of butterflies in your stomach and giddiness you knew before, like you were star struck, instead it was this feverish conjugation that made your hands clammy and your ears ring. Like the butterflies now had broken wings. You felt ill.

It had always been that way, only your heart would wrench after jaemin left and never while he stood expectant on your front porch. You suppose when he leaves for so long and stays for so little, your heart doesn't bother to acknowledge his visits anymore, like some form of a self-defense mechanism that protects you against yourself. because you never really could protect yourself against him

Suddenly, the difference being lovestruck and lovesick had never been clearer.

It had been three months.

A whole three months since you'd last seen him and tonight, tonight was the night he came back— unannounced, unexpected, and finally, finally, after days and weeks of convincing yourself, unwanted.

You know better than to let him in, not just into your home, but into your heart. And if you had learnt anything in your lifetime of knowing na jaemin, it was that those two were absolutely synonymous

Your heart that had only just now begun to learn that it could survive without him, thrive without him in fact.

You know that this is it, tonight would make it or break it— either way you know it would break you.

In the long run, it's not hard to figure out what you should do but you're a creature of habit, compelled by nothing more than muscle memory and indecision.

Your shaking hands reach for the door and begin turning the lock faster than you can convince yourself against the idea.

sure enough there he is, not an inch of skin that isn't painted in the cold shades of purple and blue yet hes staring up at you with so much warmth.

"How do you always get yourself like this, how do you get worse everytime" your words came as whisper.

You're not sure if your words hold the alternate meaning you hope they do, but as you take in the image of jaemin in front of you, you swear he's almost unrecognisable, so far beyond bruised that you wonder if you should be so cruel as to slam the door in his face.

He shrugs in response to your question, the cold breeze that brushes past the two of you biting at your skin, the thin material of your pyjama shorts doing little to nothing to keep your warm.

You're not supposed to let him in, but surely, you could always find a way to push him out, right?

There's some sort of a cheeky grin on his lips as you step aside to let him in, perhaps if he knew this was the last time he'd be stepping through the double doors of your home he would've worn an expression a lot different— you hoped he would at least.

But you know better than to occupy yourself in thoughts of what ifs.

Jaemin makes a beeline for the couch, as you do for the first aid kit that rests atop the kitchen cupboards, wordlessly.

Though the silence is nothing new, jaemin doesn't feel the welcoming atmosphere around him as he steps further into your home, in fact he feels nothing at all.

He looks over at you.

It's not tiredness that sits atop your features, the details of your pretty face all committed to his memory, yet the slight furrow of your brows and the way your lips pinch into a tight line aren't familiar to jaemin at all. There's something he can't quite put his finger on that sends him into a frenzy of panic and worry

"Hey doll?" you hum in response "are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" you chuckle wryly, "shouldn't I be asking you that jaemin?"

"Touche" you assume he lets it go, but jaemin doesnt know how, pushing a little further

"You just seem a little, off?"

After all, limits weren't something jaemin recognised well

You hate that he can't recognise the plain, simple and painfully obvious look of disappointment that's written all over your face either

Regardless you don't worry enough about his words to credit him with a response, rubbing the antiseptic roughly into his skin before reaching for the tube and letting it fall into the empty trash can, the thud as it hit the bottom filling you with ease.

You hate waste just as much as the next person, but wasting a little medicine was fine, just as long as you didn't waste anymore time on him.

Jaemin's brows knit together in a tight knot, watching you make your way back towards him with full consciousness, though there's something about the way you walk, trudge even, maybe its the way your feet drag across the carpet or the way your steps seem smaller, less eager, that has his heart sinking a little

"Doll, I'm not sure you meant to put that there" he says, attempting to brush a stray hair from your face, though you turn your head before he gets the chance

"Hmm?" your eyes trail over to the bin "oh, I just thought if I'm never going to use it again, there's no point keeping it around" you shrug

But you always kept it around, you kept it for him— remember he was allergic to the regular stuff.

What did you mean you'd never use it again?

Jaemin licks his lips, letting a soft sigh escape them as he watches you hurriedly place band aids over his cuts

"What's got you like this?" he says, you play innocent, shooting a look of confusion his way— jaemin doesn't expand, you don't answer

The room is cold, or at least it feels that way, despite the fire that's burning just a few feet away from him. The chill of silence is overwhelming, and the warmth you'd once emit in your words, in your actions, in your gaze, they're all missing.

"Did I do something wrong?" he whispers, innocent beady eyes forced into your face as he holds you close, not letting you slip through his hands— ironically you're already too far out of reach

All it takes is for you to bite at the left corner of your bottom lip for jaemin to know you're deep in thought

You wonder if he's just playing oblivious or if jaemin really and truly thinks that his little back and forth games don't have any consequences.

Either way, you shake your head at him— it wasn't all his fault.

Really you had no one to blame except yourself, you should've known better than to be so vulnerable to the likes of him.

You know better than to tell him what's wroong. You know that you can't risk receiving an apology from him, because if he made even the slightest inclination to sorriness, you'd accept it.

That's how you loved him. How much you loved him.

At one point you swore you'd let him drag you down to hell if it meant you could hold his hand on the way down— you're not sure the life you're living is much different though

You're not entirely sure you wouldn't let him drag you down now either, but the lack of certainty is the only push you need to know that this time, it's your turn to be selfish.

"All done," you whisper, his wounds quickly tended to with little precision and perhaps even less care, absentmindedly wrapped in a loose gauze.

This time, jaemin catches onto the ulterior meaning of your words, watching the way you head towards the staircase.

"Doll, talk to me what's wrong?" it's that tone laced with all forms of concern and worry that has the tears welling in your eyes

If jaemin hadn't reached out for your wrist and stopped you, you'd have made your way back up to your room without another word

But he does, he does stop you and it stops you from walking away

"I don't think I can" you say and all jaemin can do is tug at your wrist to finally get you to face him, a dull expression on your face. Every feature he knows and loves and remembers contorted into a look of nothingness.

"Y/n, please"

"Just go jaemin, you know the way out" you sigh, your speech is tired and lacks energy, a deep reflection of your soul and how you felt about the routine the two of you had established. If only Jaemin could see that.

"I can't just go when you're so clearly upset" he says— oh, but he can

You knew that better than anyone else.

"You let yourself believe that"

The words come as a whisper, like you almost hope he doesn't hear them, fast off the tongue but meant with true intent

And to jaemin they tasted bitter, superficial, like you didn't speak with your heart, but your mind, the sweetness he knew of your speech so severely lacking.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're so oblivious to how—" for a moment you're ready to tell jaemin all there is to know about the two of you, but you know its no use, jaemin would feed you the sweetest lies and you'd mistake them as the truest of promises.

"Actually you know what never mind what I mean, just go jaemin" you sigh, raking your fingers through your hair

You take his silence as reason to continue, maybe because talking is the only thing you know will keep the tears in your eyes from falling or maybe it's the look in his eyes that urges you to continue

"We're stuck in this never-ending loop, can't you see that?" the control you had over the volume of your voice diminishes with each word, but you're not sure you care, "just stop jaemin"

"Stop what?"

"Coming back" you suck in a harsh breath "just leave like you always do but this time, don't come back, please please please don't come back" you hate the way your voice cracks and your speech almost falters, burning your throat.

"I'll do whatever you say doll, just tell me what this is about and I prom—"

You cut him off before he can let the word fall from his lips, eyes widened before being clenched shut in the span of a few seconds

"Don't promise jaemin, you never stick to them" you sigh again "just go"

"You know I can't"

"you do it every time, what makes this time so different?" your tone is sour and jaemin knows better than to dispute your words, harsh but so painfully true

"You're upset" he tries, but it doesn't seem enough when you scoff right in his face and the feeling that follows only makes you hope you'd done this all so much earlier.

"Yeah? well that's nothing new, just walk out the door and break my heart like you always do— I'm begging" you shut your eyes, a harsh deep breath taken in before you continue "I need time to heal, you never give me time to heal, so I'm begging you this time, just don't come back"

"Break your heart?" the words echo from his tongue in fragments, like he's still piecing together your sentences to make sense of them. Jaemins eyes are soft and glossy as he looks up at you a couple steps away

"yeah"

"But I love you doll, I only come back because I love you" that's something you wish jaemin could've said sooner, maybe it would've meant something then.

It's a lie, you know it is, you're sure it is and despite all the lies he tells you, you'd never wished more than this for his words to be true.

"Then stop" you say, trying to shoot off up the stairs but jaemin's fingers remain wrapped aorund your wrist, grip firm and unwavering

"So what? you're just going to throw it all away? all this time we've known each other, all the memories, you're just going to pretend it doesn't exist?" he finally argued back, mouth slightly ajar as his breaths grew deeper "like we don't exist?"

"We don't jaemin, reality is that you're not mine and I'm not yours as much as I let myself be— you and I we just don't work" you wonder if he's even listening when he turns his head, scoffing to the floor with a tongue running across his inner cheek "we're not good for each oth--"

"How can you know that when we've never even tried" his voice is loud, the loudest you've ever heard, a deep booming from the pit of his stomach that has you reeling back, gulping as he cuts you off

"I don't know about you jaemin but I tried jaemin, I did but now I'm tired"

"How can you be tired of us?" his voice shakes, he seems feeble despite what he was just a few moments ago— you realise it's one of jaemin's best tactics, making you pity him when it's the last thing you should be doing.

Somehow despite how aware you are of it now, your heart still wrenches at the thought of upsetting him.

"it's not us" you defend, knowing full well that that's exactly what it was " I just, I don't deserve this jaemin, I don't deserve someone who keeps coming back" the glossiness of his eyes grows further " I deserve someone who never leaves"

"Then why are you telling me to go?" his eyes are telling, red and his heart, even if just for a moment rests on his sleeve.

"Because I know you, you're not capable of staying. You can't" his grip loosens, he takes a step back and though he argues again, you know this is it.

"I can. I will. I'd do anything for you" he says, and you swear your gulp is audible, you almost hear it echo through the room. Your stomach churns. You feel the way your insides tip upside down and back over again at the site of jaemin's furrowed brows and narrowed eyes, those pouty lips that you once loved bruised and trembling. His gaze though fixated on you is aloof, like he's not present at all. Suddenly it all feels too real. The way he pulls back, the spark in his eyes dimming and the confidence in his stance diminishing. Jaemin was giving up. But he wasn't giving up without a fight.

"You would?" you don't know why you ask, but jaemin nods anyway, and perhaps it soothes your broken heart ever so slightly to live in the blissful ignorance of thinking that his words were true. That he meant what he said.

To think that he ever loved you, even if for just a fraction of a moment, gives you reason to believe that this had all been worth it.

But you know better than to let a moments love turn into a lifetime's regret.

"Yeah" jaemin's words escape him in a sharp breath.

He finds himself holding onto the last thread of hope in your eyes that tells him that you feel the same. He holds your stare in his own for a while and though it was not warm, and it certainly was not kind— it was loving. And love was all jaemin had ever known from you.

"Then go" You say, and despite the various other words resting at the tip of your tongue, it's all you say.

Jaemin is left to do nothing but watch. You had taught him love, and now you had let him go.

The front door slams shut before you reach the top of the stairs, and it finally hits you that this is it.

Jaemin was gone, and just like you asked, he never came back.

permanent taglist : @sinisxtea @dearlyminhyung @nanawrlds

#jaemin angst #nct jaemin #na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x oc #jaemin x y/n #jaemin x you #jaemin x reader #nct #nct dream jaemin #nct x female reader #nct x y/n #nct x oc #nct x you #nct x reader #nct angst #kpop angst #jaemin nct

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lovebugdrabbles · 4 months

Text

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

#wriothesely genshin #genshin imagines #wriothesley headcanon #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #ns4w #n$4w #n$fw #genshin impact #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x gn reader #ok funnies hidden in tags #just one night pls ur grace #i am begging #i'll do what ever you want babygirl

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aego-weaver · 7 months

Text

Asexual characters getting laid

So, the recent discussion around a certain demon has brought a certain subject to the forefront of my circles. So, in this essay, let's talk about asexual characters getting laid, usually in fanfiction, but my advice applies to original work as well.

Glossary

As I discuss this, I will be using the relevant terms. For your convenience, I will define them here. Those in the community, you can skip this section.

Asexual: Often shortened to Ace, an asexual is a person who experiences little to no sexual attraction.

Gray Ace: Notice how I said "little to no" in the previous definition? gray Aces are why. Still falling under the field of asexuality, gray aces experience sexual attraction only on rare occasions or in specific situations.

Demisexual: A person who only experiences sexual attraction after a close emotional (not necessarily romantic) connection exists. It is a form of gray ace.

Aromantic: Often shortened to Aro, an aromantic is a person who experiences little to no romantic attraction.

Alloromantic: Alloromantic is opposite of Aromantic, being a person who regularly experiences romantic attraction. For this essay, I will use the abbreviated form Allo for this meaning exclusively. In more general parlance, Allo can also be short for allosexual, the opposite of asexual.

Sex Repulsed: A person who is sex repulsed has a strong negative reaction to sexual situations. This can manifest as fear, disgust, anxiety, etc.

Sex Favorable: A person who is sex favorable has a positive reaction to sexual situations. This shouldn't be confused with being sex positive, which is about your opinion regarding sex in society and sits outside the scope of this essay.

Opening Principles

The main question is this: Is it okay to write a story in which an asexual character has a sexual encounter or long-term sexual relationship?

The answer, in my opinion, is yes, if you do it right.

The question you need to ask is why are they doing this? You should really ask that question for any character getting laid, but it's really important when you want an asexual character to do the dance.

Asexuals and their relationship to sex

Now, as I start this section, I feel the need to drop my credentials... I am a sex-favorable aroace with an axe to grind. That's it really.

As far as a stereotype exists for asexuals, it's a sex-repulsed aroace who is usually so extremely repulsed they just about faint at the sight of a bare breast or is so naive they wouldn't know what a dildo is.

Now, both of these people exist, I'm sure. But, they aren't the only options. You can have sex-neutral or favorable aces, you can have allo aces, you can have gray aces and demisexuals. Asexuals can like kinky stuff or keep it vanilla. The options are limitless.

Libido is different from attraction. I'm sure you've heard of people who just need it more or less often. Guess what? Asexuals can get aroused just like everyone else; we just have less of an outlet for it.

A good but honestly overused analogy is food: libido is getting hungry while attraction is thinking something looks delicious. Some of us aces (like myself) are just sitting in the kitchen, hungry as all hell, but nothing catches the eye. We still might eat something and enjoy it, but it's a different process.

The only unifying factor for asexuals is experiencing little to no sexual attraction. That's it!

Reasons your asexual character might want to get laid

I'm going to run through a bunch of reasons why an asexual person might find themselves getting laid. I'll go over story ideas they make me think of (which you are free to steal; please steal them, I beg you) and potential pitfalls you need to avoid.

Do note the phrase "want to" in the title of this section. I'm only covering story reasons that are at least mostly consensual.

These aren't in any particular order; I'm just writing them as I think of them.

Personal Gain

Perhaps they benefit in some fashion from the arrangement. For example:

An asexual prostitute is an easy example.

A con artist, using sex to influence their victims, but not feeling anything real towards them.

This one is a great choice for dark character exploration. It's also one of the few options that works well if the character is sex-repulsed; put the reader in the shoes of a sex-repulsed character who needs to have sex for some reason and you've got something I've never seen before and really want to see done well. Tread lightly though, that idea is very easy to get wrong.

For a loved one

This one's for the allo aces out there. An asexual character could have sex for their partner's sake. Just like you, for example, might see a movie you don't care about because your SO wants to see it.

That's a fine reason... with a major caveat: it shouldn't be a transactional thing. Nothing in relationships should be, but I'm calling it out. Your ace character doesn't owe their loved one sex, but if they want to make their love happy, it's an option.

That said, if you want the audience to hate the loved one, get as transactional as you want. You don't have to write healthy relationships, just be aware of what you are doing.

For pleasure and fun

If your asexual character isn't sex-repulsed, they could just... want sex for its own sake. The only caveat here is treating the issue with respect. The characters approach to sex is different from attraction, being more something they want rather than a need.

Exceptions

You could explore an ace character drifting into gray ace territory, struggling with new emotions... or even just a character who already identifies as gray asexual.

My main concern here is avoiding invalidating the character's identity: they are still asexual, just with some shades of gray.

A common refrain from those opposed to asexuality is "you just haven't found the right person yet". Two things about that:

Don't unwittingly write a story where those idiots are right.

If a person experiences no sexual attraction, and then finds themselves doing so for a specific person, usually one they are close to, we have a word for that. It's in the glossary, starting with a D.

One-offs

Rapid fire time. These are all reasons an asexual character might have sex on a short term basis. If you're writing a short story, that might be all you need.

Peer pressure to stop being a virgin. Not a fun reason, but I'm sure it happens.

Curiosity about sex.

Manipulation by their partner. Be careful with this one, it borders on non-con... unless that's what you're writing.

They are trying to have a baby.

Some weird magic thing in your setting.

Fuck, they could lose a bet if you feel like it.

Conclusion

Just because you're writing about people doing the horizontal hula doesn't mean the few ace characters we have need to be stripped of their identity just to be stripped of their clothes. Keeping that identity in mind can help open new story paths, paths that are currently unexplored.

Side note: if you can find any well written smut featuring an asexual lead, please tell me about it. I want to read it.

#asexual #ace #acespec #lgbtqia #aegosexual

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the-s1lly-corner · 1 month

Note

hii could u do hcs for eyeless jack,laughing jack and puppeteer with a reader that celebrates their birthday but nobody remember abt it? like would they comfort the reader? (this is my first time requesting so sorry if it’s weird or anything… and u dont have to do it if u feel uncomfortable by this request ofc!)

Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Puppeteer comforting the reader after their birthday is forgotten

Long title but I couldn't think of anyway to shorten it hisshiss GROWLS!! Also you're all good anon!! Not a weird request at all!

Notes: reader is GN, reader is implied to be a normal person who isnt a creepypasta/killer

CWs: none

EYELESS JACK

birthdays dont mean much to him, he personally doesnt celebrate his birthday- in fact he stopped celebrating it long before he began eating human flesh... definitely the cynical "its just marks a year closer to death" people

that being said he knows it means a lot to you, so when you come home crushed because all of your friends and family forgot or simply brushed it aside, he makes an effort to try to celebrate it with you

decent cook and an okay baker, but i can see him being a pro at making those single serve mug cakes so hes going to make that for you- easy to make in a pinch as well as saving on food waste since youre the only one who can eat it between the two of you

tries not to bad talk those who forgot your day, but you can tell in his face thats hes got some not nice things swimming around in his head

birthdays arent a big deal to him but hes willing to make an effort for you because it means something to you

LAUGHING JACK

you come home to a surprise party! how could he forget your day? he's even- hey hey why are you crying? do you not like surprise parties?

oh he is furious when he finds out everyone overlooked and forgot you today, you might have to stop him from doing something drastic- hes still got some of his whimsy, he still deems birthdays worth celebrating and he takes them fairly seriously

instantly kicking into overdrive trying to cheer you up and getting your mind off of everyone else- clearly they dont care enough, and hes more than enough to keep you company! and hes not afraid to voice his thoughts on that!

tried to make you a cake... its... not the best... hardly resembles a cake but he tried his best! you... might have more luck with chowing down on his candies...

oh he definitely puts one of those birthday hats on the both of you! you get the larger sparklier one!

PUPPETEER

like eyeless jack, birthdays are hardly worth celebrating in his opinion... though his tune quickly changed when you decided to throw a small party for him as a "make up" for missing his birthday- whenever that is hes not sure

but hes not much of a planner... and hes hardly a comforter... so you coming home in near tears throws him for a bit of a loop- but hes already saying exactly what you need to hear in order to draw out what happened... everyones forgotten?

similar to laughing jack he voices his thoughts that those who forgot clearly arent worth your time- whether or not thats a fair or true thing to say is debatable

small celebration due to the short notice but its something! puts something together at home while you go out to pick up your desired treat

you come back to your home slightly decorated, its no party but its still something! hes even taken out some stuff and set up the means to partake in some of your favorite activities!

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pneuma-themes · 1 year

Text

Theme #07: Clio by @pneuma-themes

Where you walk, my dearest friend, fate shall surely follow.

Live Preview (Temporary) / Static Preview: [Index] [Permalink] / Get the code: [pastebin] [github]

This is intended to be a fansite! I am finally happy with how this turned out after a few iterations. This theme features Emet-Selch from Final Fantasy XIV. Be warned going into the live preview as this theme heavily features content that can be found on various points of Shadowbringers and Endwalker, which may or may not be a spoiler!

Features:

Customizable post widths and font sizes. The live preview uses 650px post width and 13px font size. Enter the desired post width on the post width field and the desired font size on the font size field on the Customization page.

One accent color, 7 color options

Option for title alignment (centered/lefthand side/righthand side) to accommodate for the chosen header image.

Option to display or hide the blog title.

Built-in dual sidebar layout. All the boxes on the sidebar (members, events, updates, and site info) and the footer (disclaimer, about, and search box) can be edited from the code directly.

5 custom links at the topbar with additional 8 links on the navigation box.

Customizable photoset gutter. The live preview uses 10px gutter.

A header image. The size of the header (w x h) is the width of your screen x 350px. So if your screen width is 1900px, then the size of your header should be 1900 x 350px.

Notes:

This theme uses @eggdesign's NPF reverse-compatible template. Everything should be working as expected, except for some things noted below.

As we slowly transition into the new editor, posts made by the legacy editor will eventually break. This is particularly evident in a quote post reblogged via the new editor, in which the post will be rendered as a text post with blockquote and cannot be styled similarly to a legacy quote post. This is a Tumblr bug as far as I am concerned and from what other people have told me, so unfortunately there is nothing I can do about it.

I've written a short guide on how to set up this theme here. Everything else is annotated in the code, so do read through them before shooting me an ask!

Credits:

NPF reverse-compatible template: @eggdesign

Header: ユズリコ❂ (yuzuriko_red @ Twitter)

Icon font: Phosphor Icons

Icons (affiliates, members) and toggle tags on click: @alydae

Fonts: Nunito, Merriweather @ Google Fonts

customAudio.js: @annasthms

photoset.css with lightbox: @annasthms and @eggdesign

Search box, minified spotify player: @glenthemes

Toggle-able tumblr controls: @seyche

Shorten note count: @shythemes

Responsive video script: @nouvae

Please like and reblog if you like this theme or are using it!

#themehunter #allresources #chaoticresources #completeresources #*theme: clio #*mine: theme #*mine: all #still ugly crying over emet-selch and hythlodaeus and azem

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unbizzarre · 10 months

Text

Barrayaran Uniforms

My laptop’s still broken so it’s been a messing-around-with-gouache-paint weekend! I always draw too small so doing the deatails on this one was rough! 😫

Modern imperial dress greens on the left, and an attempt at vorkosigan house livery on the right (I don’t love how the vorkosigan house one turned out so I’m probably gonna rework it some more before adding anything to the ol’ headcannon)

NOTES ON IMPERIAL DRESS GREENS

-book mentions stiff high uncomfortable collars, forest green color, riding boots and side piping. There should also be two ceremonial swords but I got lazy

- I wanted to put an emphasis on embroidery and hand details in barrayaran fashion in general so I picked side piping a little more intricate and ornate than just a simple stripe

- originally I was put piping across the front like in the reference, but it got too busy and I wanted the chest to be a little simpler that way medals and other stuff would stand out better against the fabric. Plus having fewer fiddly bits helps it feel more sleek and less out of place in space.

Reference photos:

UNIFORM OVER TIME

- Barrayar as a setting has had to basically speedrun 600 years of fashion history as they make the leap from midieval to space-age in a single generation. In order to show the shift in eras I made a little timeline(ish) of the general changes in the uniform silhouette.

- biggest change in the general silhouette is the gradual shortening of the coat/shirt element from calf lengths tabards to thigh length coats to to waist height jackets

- armor and chainmail fall by the wayside, and guns are picked up. Early occupation uniforms eclectic and a hodgepodge of old midieval weaponry + stolen cetegandan ordenance. They are not uniform at all as the barrayaran military is mostly small gorilla outfits with each fighting force cobbled together from the resources at hand. New Uniformity would come with the return of central government and the implementation of infrastructure for mass production. The uniform would probably stay relatively consistant during the conquest of komarr through the pretendership. Another major shift in in uniform style would probably occur during the regency or Gregor’s coronation in reflection of the successful regime change and the continued push towards a more modern barrayar

Here’s some rough outlines:

Reference Collages from photocopies of a fashion history book I picked up from the library a while back. Don’t remember the title. Will edit post when I do Left is Russia (not sure which century). Right is references for occupation fighters pulled from various pages, time periods, and nationalities (Russia, Mongolia, Crete and turkey maybe? Idk) I wrote all the page numbers down on the collage but I returned the book so now they’re useless.

Thanks for reading!

#vorkosigan costume #vorkosigan saga #fanart #fashion history #headcanon #costume design #lois mcmaster bujold

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thefirstknife · 4 months

Note

*hears Witness refer to themselves as the First Knife*

*eyes Bel*

*slowly backs away*

Welcome to my twisted mind.

Jokes aside, I also saw that ofc! It was also called that in the campaign by the dissenters:

I really enjoy that this got confirmed (either way!). There's been so much speculation on it. I've personally been on and off on the theory that the Witness is the first knife or just a manifestation of it or maybe that the first knife is just a concept, and if the Witness is trying to embody it or not. And so on. It's been really cool speculating and theorycrafting!

But now we know! Well... sort of, still. The Witness certainly believes itself to be the first knife, but is it truly? What does that mean? Does it even matter?

There's a ship you can get for finishing one of the sidequests: The First Knife. It has really cool lore of Mara and Ikora discussing the first knife and its meaning. I'll shorten the lore tab to just their dialogue so it's easier to copy and have at hand:

Mara: "When I first encountered the Witness, I heard it proclaim to me, 'We are the first knife.' It was as if that title held power. Meaning." Ikora: "The apocryphal texts we dug up on the moon, the ones Eris translated, mentioned the knife as a concept." Mara: "And even if we consider that unveiled text as dogmatic propaganda, there may be truth behind the allegory. The knife becomes the metaphor of a concept. A power. A knife that winnows, cutting things into a defined shape." Ikora: "A power that winnowed living beings into Taken. A power Oryx wielded." Mara: "You're wondering if the knife is a title, or a power. Did Oryx wield the power of the Witness like a knife?" Ikora: "The Witness is a manipulator. It distorts the truth to bend the wills of its supplicants. The allegorical fantasy told to us by the Witness paints itself as a monolithic cosmic force. But perhaps that's a shadow cast by the truth." Mara: "A knife is a tool, wielded by another's hand." Ikora: "If the Witness is the knife, as it asserts, then what wields it?" Mara: "The Witness is not a being. It is the culmination of a bleak ethos willed into existence by the nihilistic desires of its creators. Is their will the hand on the knife? Or is there something else?" Ikora: "I don't know."

This about summarises my thoughts on it, the ones I've always had. I'm not sure if there's any other information, maybe in the raid or the raid's lore book, but for now I'll focus on just this.

Mara says what I've always also agreed with: Unveiling is an allegory, but it has shreds of truth. The problem is that we don't know which parts are truth. We could speculate on that to no end. Ikora agrees as well and also asserts what I believe is the confirmation that the Witness wrote it, by calling it the "allegorical fantasy told to us by the Witness." Or at least this is what the characters believe to be true; Ikora also notes how even that could be a part of that truth among the allegories.

They consider it as a possible power, but they also consider it through the concept of it being a knife: a knife is wielded. Is the Witness being wielded by something else? Is it a knife because the species that made the Witness is the hand? Or is there something different? The conclusion is that neither of them know.

The problem, I think, we'll always have here in regards to the Winnower and anything above the Witness is that it will be hard to tell unless this hypothetical other being actually appears. The Witness may believe that it is the knife of the Winnower, but that could just be its interpretation of its own purpose. Essentially, the Witness may hold a religious belief about its place in the universe that simply isn't true, or believe in a being that isn't real. Just because the Witness says "We are the first knife [of the Winnower (?)]," doesn't mean that is the actual truth. It could be! But we simply don't know, and we won't know, until the Winnower appears (if it ever does; even if it is real, it may still not ever appear in person, in lore or the game).

Even if there's any other information, unless that information is from a reputable source (something that isn't the Witness itself or the Witness-aligned factions telling us a story), it will be hard to tell what's the truth. I really like that! I also really like that the first knife is still discussed also as a concept, not just something that the Witness believes it is. At the end of the day, this title represents something and it's the concept of winnowing, cutting things off.

But I do also like that "the first knife" has been addressed and explained. The Witness believes it is the first knife, and depending on more unfathomable cosmic forces, it may or may not really be that thing as something tangible and powerful, or even just as a title. Does the title matter? It does only because it matters to the Witness. At least for now. Until something actually shows up and presents itself as the wielder of the first knife, we will not know for certain.

Currently waiting to see when I can get the raid clear and the raid lore book, maybe for more information!

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #the final shape #the final shape spoilers #witness #winnower #ask #what a time to be alive. i didn't think they'd go too in-depth with this #but they gave us a treat #they gave ME a treat #also happy for all the unveiling references. they're so good.#so much about people constantly saying 'the writers forgot/retconned unveiling!' bro that is not how that works #i truly hope unveiling forever remains a mystery. at least parts of it #i hope they tease us with it forever. unveiling has become more and more of a fave over time for me #the more complications the story adds to it the better it becomes #give me my religious insanity in space. literally my favourite thing in the world

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