#so now I'm almost scared to work on him in fear ill make him worse

[roeza]

BJD Making : Moonie ? Part One

So this all started with my favorite Pajamas

you see I love my pajamas sets so I decided once my PJ sets get to old, or to ripped up or just to uncomfortable to wear them I would turn them into Doll clothes for Specially Designed dolls

well one of my pajamas finally got too uncomfortable to wear (in all honesty that one was never too comfortable to begin with) Which means it’s time to start making the doll :D

First Up the Concept Art

in all honesty i am vary unsatisfied with how this turned out

it looks enough like her to get the general idea across, I guess

the face is the best part of the concept art in my opinion, it's the part that looks the most like it did in my head

to put what I wanted her to look like in words

I wanted a Lolita look with an Easter theme, a round face with big lips and an upturned nose, a slightly chubby body, and long pig tails

well anyways after drawing the concept art I made the vary wise choice to neglect my other projects and start a new one

First up

the Head

first, I got one of my stock bodies to help me decide what size the head should be

then I made a from out of tin foil a little bit smaller then the head I want to make and then stick it on the body with a chop stick to hold it in place

here is her head in the middle of sculpting

this is when I realized the head wasn't going to turn out how I originally wanted it too But

it doesn't matter Because I think how the head turned out was even Better than my original design

this is when I gave her the nick name Moonie

I just feel like her face looks like a little moon

I don't know if that's going to be her real name though

and that's all I got done for now

next up will be sanding the head and starting on the upper torso

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Erupt - a Malevolent fic

Sunny knew him. Knew him well. This was Parker working himself up to do something rash. Parker?

Very carefully, Parker said, “I’m not mad at you.” But just a little, he was.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

------------

Parker walked.

Walked? No, more like stalked, too quiet to be stomping, but far from his usual step. He marched past chattering and laughing deities, hunched past monsters in servant garb, stormed right the fuck out of the palace and through the front gates. He ignored anyone who said, Hey, is he allowed out, passed the road with fancy gilded wagons bringing special fuckwads in, and kept stalking until he was past the outer limit of Carcosa proper and almost into the Dreamlands themselves.

Wherever they were was desolate. Boulders jutted up from the earth, the landscape brown and craggy. They had no pack, no water or clothes. Who the hell cared? It’s not like Parker had a destination.

It’s not like Hastur would really let them go.

They’d gotten perhaps half a mile from the gates when Sunny spoke again. Parker, he said, voice hushed and wounded and scared. Say something. Please. I don’t… I heard everything you did, and I’m also… please, say anything.

Parker found it difficult to unlock his jaw from where it was set; too difficult with the rage that filled him to bursting, the wrath that put him firmly in the walk it off before you do something you regret camp.

He wasn’t sure there was a whole lot he’d regret right now.

But for Sunny, he would have to manage, because Sunny would blame himself, and Parker was getting desperate not to put any of this rage on him. “That motherfucker,” he said, shoulders shaking from the effort.

He could almost feel Sunny twist in his head, pained and incorporeal. I… said Sunny, as if he could find the words to make it better—but from the following uncomfortable silence, he could not. I didn’t know, he said at last, voice low and ragged. I didn’t��� Parker, I’m sorry.

Parker grabbed a stone from the ground and hurled it into the distance, finding no relief in watching it clatter against the rocky ground. He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth. His breath came fast through his nose, shallow.

Sunny knew him. Knew him well. This was Parker working himself up to do something rash. Parker?

Very carefully, Parker said, “I’m not mad at you.” But just a little, he was.

He knew that wasn’t fair. He did. But this had put the big thing they didn’t talk about into such sharp relief that he could no more ignore it than he could a knife to his neck.

Sunny knew him. Knew him well. This was Parker not saying everything. We can’t… we can’t change what he did, Sunny said, the tremble in his voice betraying his fear, but we… You’re helping, Parker. You’re helping Arthur. That has to count for… something, right?

And Parker fucking roared.

He raised his fists in the air and brought them down with his whole body, slamming them into the boulder ahead of him, definitely hurting himself, a volcano of rage.

Sunny whimpered.

“I CAN’T LET YOU DO IT!” Parker howled, and then he did something even worse: he slid to the rocky soil on his knees, curled down, and so quietly, began to cry.

Wh-what?

“Fuck….” Parker whispered. “Fuck. You’re gonna hate me for it. I hate me for it. But I can’t… I can’t. I can’t.” He sobbed it.

I could never hate you, Sunny said, voice fearful for an entirely new reason. Never. I love you, Parker—talk to me, please. I don’t… I’ve told you, I don’t harbor any ill will towards Arthur anymore. I’ve been trying so hard, I…

“I can’t let you join the King,” said Parker, and his voice sounded like grinding metal.

Sunny sat in shocked silence for a moment, feeling Parker’s tears drip down their chin. It… he said, fumbling. It can’t be helped, Parker.

“Bullshit,” Parker snapped, squeezing his eyes shut. “It can. You’re not doing it.” He took a shuddering breath. “Hate me for it. I know I'm going back on my word. I fucking know it, Sunny. But I can’t. I can’t let you. I can’t let you be part of that. I wouldn’t let anybody I cared for join some fucking monster.”

Do you think I’m happy to have learned all of this? Sunny shuddered, Parker’s face contorting in a grimace. I’m… I’m not, Parker. I feel… I don’t even know what to feel. And maybe I would have felt differently a year ago, I don’t know, but—

“I don’t care,” Parker said thickly. “I told myself it was like some terminal illness, yeah? Some fatal disease that couldn’t be helped, and I’d love you to the end, and I still will… but it’s not like a disease at all, and it isn’t happening.”

Parker, Sunny said, his voice soft and full of grief. I am the King.

“No, you’re fucking not!” Parker punched the boulder this time, splitting the skin of his knuckles. “You’re not! I don’t care if you were! You’re not!”

I am, Sunny said, and Parker’s tears were no longer all his own. I’m no fucking better than he is, Parker! I schemed with Larson to try and make Arthur’s life a living hell. I manipulated and lied and everything else! He let out a soft sob.

“You are better. You’re better. You’re… you weren’t even part of him when he did that to Arthur.” And then Parker changed directions. “And maybe I don’t care. Huh? Maybe I don’t give a fuck if you’re cut from the same cloth. You’re not the same now, and I won’t let you do it.” He groaned, low. “I didn’t want to before, anyway, but it wasn’t about me. It still isn’t. You’d be ruined. You’d lose the good in you. I won’t fucking let you, and if you hate me… you hate me.”

What am I now, Parker? Sunny��s voice had a bit of bite to it. A pathetic little scrap, barely any power to speak of, that can only sit by and watch?

“No!” Parker sounded so raw. “You’re Sunny!”

I don’t fucking know who Sunny is, he snapped. All I am, all I will ever be is the King’s forgotten one, not even important enough for him to look for, and if I have convinced you otherwise—he choked. Maybe I’m… maybe I’m a better manipulator than I thought.

“I know who you are,” said Parker. “You’re the guy I fell for. All the way, hook-line-sinker, all-in, head-first, and I’m still in, and I wouldn’t fall for some piece of shit or some liar because I’m fucking good at seeing through those!” Parker, who could run for miles barely breaking a sweat, was breathing like he couldn’t get enough air.

Are you sure? There was a tremor in Sunny’s voice. Are you sure this is really about me, Parker? And not because otherwise, you’d be alone?

Parker went really still. He studied his hands, bloodied and bruised, and nodded. “Go on. You got better than that in you. Gonna hit me low, you better aim below the belt. And that was pretty pathetic.”

I… And just like that, the fire died. I… I didn’t… I didn’t mean that. I don’t know why I said it. Fuck.

“No, you been thinking it for a while,” Parker said evenly. “Probably. And I can take it. Sunny, get it out. This is your chance. Fucking take my head off. I’m breaking my word, so do it. I don’t care. Nobody can hear us out here, anyway.”

You deserve better than me. Sunny curled into himself, almost. You deserve better than all of this. I can’t do anything for you, Parker; I can’t hold you, I can’t give you the love you deserve. I can’t keep you safe, not from Larson, not from fucking anything.

“You think any of those things is why I love you?” Parker said, soft.

I don’t know why you love me. There’s nothing here to love—just a fucking voice that was thrust upon you, dragging you into this… into this fucking nightmare! His voice hitched, raised. It’s… it’s not fair! None of this is fair!

“Sure. Sure. Then why aren’t I ready to get rid of you, huh? Looking for it. Maybe telling Hastur to take you early. Instead of fucking fighing to keep you.” Parker took a slow breath. “I’m trying real hard to give you what you want. What maybe you need. But I can’t do this. It’s like tossing a baby into a lion’s den. And I love you. Whatever you are, scrap or Sunny or whatever the fuck. With me, is what you are. That’s what love is. That’s why I know it’s real. If...” He gripped his hair tightly, trying to calm down so he could speak clearly. “If it was based on some… some… you doing shit for me, instead of being with me, it would never last. Because people get old, and shit happens. You can’t always do. But if it’s just with me, then none of that matters. Because we can be together no matter what’s going on. Damn it, I’m fucking…” He had to use his cloak to blow his nose, and got blood from his hands on it. “Fucking hell.”

I don’t know what I want, Sunny said, his voice a low, agonized groan. I don’t want you to… to grow old, to die, but I can’t… I can’t stop it. I can’t. I can’t mark you, I’m not John, I can’t—

“Did I fucking ask you to be John? Did I ask you to mark me? What have I asked of you, Sunny?”

I WANT TO MARK YOU! Sunny bellowed, breaking down into a sob. All the things I want to do, I fucking can’t! I can’t even… I can’t even…“ He took their voice, words hitching and breaking. “I can’t even hold you. All I want to do is hold you, right now, and I can’t. I can’t do anything but watch.”

Parker wrapped his arms around himself. He was silent for a long time. “How long you wanted that?”

They both knew he didn’t mean being held.

Sunny’s throat was already exposed. He may as well. Since… since before we came to Carcosa, he said, voice shaking with the effort to be heard. But I knew for certain when we went on the roof the first time, and… and I told you I loved you. But— he let out a sob. J-John said… he said Hastur… John suggested he mark you, to keep you from… and I can’t. It hurts, and you hate him now on top of it, and—

“I don’t hate John.” That sounded like a carefully thought-through thing. “He’s a victim. Like you. Like Arthur. Like me.”

Not John. Hastur. And Sunny erupted into horrible, all-encompassing sobs.

Parker rocked. Maybe for Sunny, maybe for him. Then weakly, he laughed. “Never thought I’d hate my father-in-law.”

Somewhere in Sunny’s sobs, there was a sound that might have, instead, been a laugh.

Parker sighed and gripped his hair again. “I don’t get why Arthur forgave him. I can’t fucking figure it out. What in fuck happened on that road trip? How could he forgive that? But he did, Sunny. I know Arthur. He did. That’s got to mean something.”

It took a while for Sunny to respond, his hitching sobs quieting enough that he could form words. Both… both of them did. John… he wouldn’t have… he wouldn’t have let it go if he hadn’t. He took a moment, breath hitching again as a new tremor rocked his incorporeal body. I… I don’t know that I can… make promises.

“Promises for what, sunshine?” said Parker softly.

About… merging, he said, the word like a death sentence. I… I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. I think I have to, Parker, it’s not about… I don’t know that I have a choice.

“All we talked about with that asshole, and I didn’t ask that,” Parker murmured. “Fuck. They’re gonna make me choose.” He dug his hands into his eyes. “Well. I’m gonna. And if he says he’s gonna take you, we’re gone. I’m sorry about Arthur, but I won’t stay.”

If I have to, Sunny said, his voice soft, I’ll use what’s left of me to… to make sure you can be free, Parker. I swear.

“I don’t wanna be free. I want you.”

We might not get that happy ending, Parker, Sunny said, voice soft. Resigned. You’re the only good thing that’s ever happened to me. I… I should have known better.

“Fuck that. We earned our happiness and I’m not letting go.” His voice cracked. “I could run. Right now. But I think… I think Arthur and Faroe might pay for it, and I don’t think we’d like that. Either of us. And he’d catch us, anyway.” He rubbed his eyes. “Gonna be a grownup and find out what the fucking King needs to leave you alone. He likes deals. He’ll take it, if the pot’s sweet enough.”

The Outer God would make all of them pay for it, Sunny said, weak. What if… what if there’s no other way, Parker?

Parker was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t accept that.”

We might not have a choice.

“Don’t know that yet.” Parker didn’t do denial often, but when he did, he planted a flag. “If there’s no way… I dunno. Maybe he can fucking eat me, too.”

Sunny growled.

And maybe it was Parker’s turn to push. “What do you care? You’ll be gone. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I don’t wanna be without you.”

You… Sunny stopped. Thought. I don’t know that I would allow that.

Parker’s voice was warm, heated even, challenging. “And how are you gonna stop me?”

I don’t know, he said. I don’t… I don’t know, Parker. I don’t know anything anymore. Sunny let out a soft sniffle. The only thing I know for sure is that I love you.

“Yeah. Me, too.” Parker swallowed. “I used to laugh at guys who lost their shit and did stupid things when in love. Guess it’s real, after all.” He took a slow breath. “Are we going to war against a god?”

I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe there’s another way, Sunny said. We’ve got five years. That’s not nothing.

“Yeah. There are probably all kinds of things we could do. I just…” He looked at his hands. “I don’t like the thought of heading down Larson’s path. I like healing. I don’t want to lose what we’ve become by chasing weapons, or whatever. No, we gotta be clever. I’m fighting for you, Sunny. I won’t listen if you tell me not to. Not this time. Not in this. And if it means I get smashed in a duel or something because there’s no way to save you… I’d rather go out trying.”

You could never head down Larson’s path, Parker, Sunny said, voice a gentle whisper. I… I need to think. I need to think about everything. But… thank you.

“For breaking my promise?” His voice cracked. “I don’t… like doing it. And I’ll understand if you don’t fucking trust me again.”

Parker… I trust you. You got me to Carcosa. You brought me home. We didn’t… know, then, what lay ahead. I know you didn’t just… do this lightly. And because it bore saying again: I know you’re not Larson.

Finally, Parker touched his lips. They could both taste a little blood. “Still got no regrets.”

I’m sorry I snapped at you. I… I don’t know what came over me. I won’t do it again.

“I’m glad you did,” Parker said. “You know what I’m sorry for?”

You shouldn’t be sorry for anything, Sunny said quietly.

“I am, though. I should’ve told you this deal was upsetting me. Then maybe I wouldn’t have blown up on you. I’m sorry for that. I sat on it, and it went bad. I won’t do that again.”

Sunny was quiet for a moment. Thank you, he whispered, the sound full of tears. I understand why… why you didn’t. Thank you.

“Well. I never said I couldn’t be dumb.” He sighed, looking at his blood on the boulder. “Uh. Is it dangerous to leave part of myself on this thing?”

I don’t think it’d be wise. Can… can I heal your hands? Or do you need that, right now?

Parker swallowed. “Could you?”

Always. Always, Parker. Ph’lloig. Their breath ghosted over their knuckles, which itched as the wounds closed and the skin knit back together, leaving nothing but drying blood crusting the lines of his hands, and Sunny gently kissed them, as if apologizing.

“And you said you’re useless,” said Parker. “Dunno what I’d have done without you. You made me fight harder to stay alive. You matter. Your presence fucking matters.”

Sunny sucked in a shaky, incorporeal breath. I can’t… I can’t hold you. But I can heal you, and… Well, we can burn away the remnants of you here, so no one has a chance to gain power over you. The magic for that was easy, and the bright red blood vanished under scorch marks.

“But you do hold me. Maybe not with hands, but you do.” Parker stood.

Not the way I want to, Sunny said, soft and wounded and tired. We’re… okay? You and me?

“I dunno,” said Parker. “You mad at me?”

No.

Parker sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Broke my promise. Made you cry.”

And I was awful to you, for no reason except that I was… I don’t even know what I was feeling. Sunny sighed.

“You know I forgive you, right?” Parker said.

Sunny was quiet for a long moment. I think… I think I do, he said, soft. And I forgive you. Are you ready to go back?

“Yeah.” Parker paused. “I feel dumb. That was some rookie shit back there.”

Wh… with the King?

Parker sighed, heading slowly back toward the gleam and gold of Carcosa. “Arthur told us Hastur was fucked up after Gokar’luh.”

After having to kill our son. Yes.

“Humans and gods, they ain’t so different,” Parker said. “Think back. Aimes case, about three months after we got here.”

The widower? Sunny said, sounding dubious.

“Remember why he was picking all those fights?”

Sunny gasped. You said that was like Arthur when you found him.

“Both those guys wanted to be shanked and wanted to be left alone. Hastur can’t be shanked..,.”

But he…

“Can drive everyone away from him. And I fell for it. I let him get to me. Flip the script on me. Real newbie shit.”

Parker, he… he’s thousands of years old. He’s a god. He…

“Didn’t do nothing a genius perp wouldn’t do. I ain’t saying he’s not brilliant, because he is. But I went in unprepared.”

Sunny sighed. That’s… you never cease to amaze me. You got your heart cut out, and you’re unraveling him.

“It’s what I do. It’s how I get through shit. It’s my blueprint.”

I know, Sunny whispered. If it has to happen… if I have to join him… please… do that instead of being eaten.

Parker walked, hands in his pockets. “This is me trying real hard not to leverage my survival to keep you going. That ain’t healthy.”

I…

“I won’t, Sunny.”

I don’t… know what I can promise or not.

“Just stick with me.” He caressed his jaw. “Imperfect, fucking amateur, temperamental, full of shit, more stupid than brave.”

Only if you stick with me, Sunny almost whispered. Manipulative. Weak. Evil. Cowardly. Selfish.

Parker suddenly laughed. “Who in fuck are we even describing?”

M-maybe some perps we should take down, Sunny managed, and added a shaky laugh.

“I love you,” Parker said. “Whatever he wanted to do by fucking me up like that, he failed. We’re going after him again, and getting the rest of our answers.”

Parker’s tongue trembled. N-not yet? Please?

“Oh, fucking yeah not yet. We’re getting some chocolate, cheese and crackers and grapes, some damn good whiskey, and we’re calling off the rest of the day. I’ll put the damn bed in front of the door if I have to.”

That sounds… good.

“Yeah. It does.” They marched back inside, and didn’t speak again until they were safe and sound in their room.

[oh-no-its-bird]

@optimizerr

Ok so a) I NEED TO SEE THIS FIC WHENEVER YOU POST IT OH MY GOD PLEASE I LOVE OROCHIMARU AND I LOVE TIME TRAVEL AND I ESPECIALLY LOVE OROCHIMARU TIME TRAVEL PLS SEND ME THE LINK WHEN YOU POST IT ILL CRY

And b) JDBSOD HAPPY TO PROVIDE !!! I find Orochimaru to be such an interesting character, and also his existence in Boruto + the end of Natuto is just. So fucking funny. Oh teehee don't mind the war criminal who committed terrible crimes against humanity (and also famously killed our ninja president while desecrating the bodies of the other 2 ninja presidents to do so) and his loyal subordinates who also were once his experiments who wanted to see him dead, he's retired now and one of the best, most healthy stay at home moms in the village :D

The housewife Orochimaru agenda is insane and makes me lose my actual fucking mind every time I think about it. Do u think he's on the PTA? I bet he joined just to piss Sakura off. I bet he brings brownies.

Anyways like. He's one of those characters where you totally can just take him at face value (creepy evil scientist snake man tries to become immortal and is also kind of legitimatley insane sometimes) and that's totally fun and valid, but also like. You can take SO many liberties or try to dissect exactly how he got there— and almost anything you do with him instantly just creates so many fun, fascinating and honestly sometimes quite tragic implications.

Orochimaru is so childhood friends gone wrong / prodigy pushed to far / antisocial boy left alone to rot and carefully fed only the worst emotions and encouraged on his worst habits / scientist who fell too deeply in love with his work / man so scared of death he ruined himself and everything he ever touched -coded. It's so fun!!! The opportunities are endless!!!

He's shown he's more than capable of genuinley caring for someone, both before jumping off the deep end with Jiriyah and Tsunade, and also after he kind of recovers from his everything in Boruto w Mitsuki. And both of these instances happen in what's clearly some of the timeframes of him being at his most mentally healthy, even separated from his relationships

So I just want to see him at his worst and most detached accidentally tricking himself into remembering he's capable of caring, I think it'd be interesting. And then I want to see the fact that he cares for someone or something conflicting with his work, and him having to find a way to ground himself before he once again manages to ruin it all— not only for himself but for those he may now be attached to aswell. After all, Orochimaru has a great talent for both creating and destroying, as Sound very much proves

Again, never actually seen naruto, but I've seen so many takes of Orochimaru being deeply, genuinley upset by the fact that he can't access sage chakra due to all of his experiments on himself. I like to also pair that with "the Orochi were a snake clan who's members always were able to achieve sage mode, and it's actually really important to then culturally" to just make it feel even worse. Also pair that with various Orochi clan hcs, like all of their names start with "Oro" and the clan head is always named Orochimaru when they become clan head, and as the last remaining Orochi Orochimari is that clan head and has been since he was 10. So there's even more "I'm the last of my people and can't even do what they once did" angst

I want to see him have moments of clarity or the opposite, moments of just pure distressed madness, where he remembers and becomes viscerally aware of how he's destroyed his body and how he'll never be able to reach sage mode like his family once had.

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum too, Orochimaru is like. A fucking cult leader? Girl how the fuck does he keep inspiring people to be so obsessed w following him. Why does he have so many loyal minions? It can't all be fear? I wanna see charming manipulative Oro content so bad!!!

Unrelated but if we're talking ab Orochimaru then I have to say that I also LOVE the idea that the fact that he's scared of bugs in canon is bc hes had times where he was stuck with his body literally rotting and infested with bugs, possibly multiple times.

Make him a clean freak obsessed w the condition of his own body because of the unfortunate few times where he was stuck inside what was effectively a rotting corpse!!! It's fun!!!

ALSO LIKE. POINTING AT UR PFP. TENZO ENJOYER SPOTTED!!!

Orochimaru and Tenzo's potential dynamic is SO good and I love every possible mix of it. The fact that them as a duo was played for comedy in the Naruto's wedding episode is so fucking insane I'd almost be offended if I wasn't so busy laughing my ass off at it.

I'm incredibly biased because I'm already planning to make them an incredibly disfunction family in chasing shadows, but I love any mix of their interactions. There's just SO much there to work with!!! Tenzo was undoubtedly irriversably traumatized by him as a child, but also you have to acknowledge that Orochimaru was in a very unique position of being the first authority figure ever in his life, which is just interesting. Then by the end of Naruto, theyre,,, chill? I have no idea what the actual fuck is happening over there tbh but whatever it is is fascinating.

Do u think Tenzo helped babysit Mitsuki sometimes. I think so. I think Mitsuki should get to refer to him as a cousin, it'd be funny.

There's also a very loose opening where as a writer u can take so many liberties with if Orochimaru knows where tf Tenzo comes from, or if he was a possible war orphaned senju bastard if u choose to go down that road (blood tests say what?)

Idk but just like. Them. Ugh. So good.

Honestly Orochimaru has really interesting dynamics with so many characters just by nature of being Orochimaru, u really can't go wrong with pairing him w people for interactions

Oops went on a bit of a rant but like !!!!! I really like his character, he's so fun to play with. Seriously tho lemme know if/when you post that fic, I'll eat it up I promise

Fic where Kakashi gets de-aged to like, under 5. Real, proper emotions and intuition over all logic child age, not even training under Minato yet so no hang ups or super deep character attachments other than just to his dad

And he doesn't recognize anyone— the best you'll get out of him is mistaking Gai for Might Dai. And he keeps asking for his dad.

Then they fucking lose him and through some convoluted roll of the dice, he winds up running into Orochimaru

But the thing is that Orochimaru used to be a friend of his father's. And he's aged really well and he's just very recognizable in general. So suddenly u have little Kakashi gripping onto the hem of his robes bc this is the only guy he knows he can trust. It's Tou-sans work friend!! Not any of these weirdo strangers who keep acting way too familiar (and overly invested in seeing his face under the mask, that means you Naruto)

Orochimaru loves this turn of events, what a fuckin chess piece!! Sorry Konoha, if u want ur baby genius back you'll have to pay the big bucks 💅

Same to you, Akatsuki guy who's weirdly invested in all of this (Obito)

Orochimaru doesn't even treat him that bad too, like he's definitley not a good guardian or anything, but he's not,,, bad? He has no reason to treat Kakashi badly or experiment on him, and he did once consider Sakumo a friend so there's some nostalgic fondness wrapped up in it all

Kakashi is legit living his best life out in the caves of sound, and hey, if he accidentally distracts and helps trick Orochimaru into being slightly less worse than canon, everyone wins, right?

[nuclearnerves]

INCOMING VAMPIRE AU THOUGHTS

Don't mind me I'm finally getting the ideas I had on this shit out so I can actually go forward with developing it as an AU. It's my usual mixup of fps protags, Gordon Guy and John, but I'm starting with Gordon as the Vampire and Guy as the Vampire Hunter.

absolute beast of a wall of text under the cut

What If Being A Vampire Literally Sucks All The Time Forever like chronic pain sucks. like THAT level of sucks. Like Here's what I was thinking of. Being a vampire isn't just "being alive forever but you need to drink human blood" It's like Oh man I have some lore you look at vampires and their main thing is that they're blood suckers right so lets start with a corpse dead body. cadaver. no longer with us. just some rotting meat. The brain needs oxygen as fuel. The blood supplies the oxygen through blood. The blood is pumped through the heart. The blood is made by your bone marrow. You die. Your heart stops beating Blood stops pumping Brain no longer has oxygen to think marrow stops making blood thats standard! Now, becoming undead, as a vampire, is a little more complicated. The long and short of it is: your body is FIGHTING ACTIVELY to be alive against all odds and wins every time (immortality), but it hurts the whole way

I have the gist of it. It's like. Your heart stops. By all means, you should be dead. but the magic kicks in, and you're still thinking. Your brain is still sending signals to your muscles to move. But using what oxygen to move? whats burning in you? You don't know but you know it's just enough to get to your next meal. So you ferociously eat something, and then find you can't swallow. You can't make saliva. You barely have the energy to chew, and once you DO get something in your stomach, it immediately comes back up. Why can't you feel your pulse? What's going on? You're out of options so you figure you might as well just lie down and die. You're too tired to keep going anyway. So you do, you lie down, and you close your eyes, and you quietly hope that death is as peaceful as sleep. You realize you've actually been moving around without breathing, which makes sense because you can barely flex your diaphragm for more than a shaky wheeze. How are you thinking with such little oxygen? But as you fade from consciousness, you can feel something in you, and it's so upset, it's crying, it's filled with grief, and you instantly can tell it's your skeleton. It's your bones. You're distraught down to your marrow. You're dying. You're dying! Your heart stopped and you have no more blood! You need blood! You need blood to move! To breathe! To think! You try to breath deep again for the voices in your bones, trying to comfort them, to sooth them with the repetitive motion in your lungs, trying to fill yourself with anything but grief, but they keep wailing. We make the blood, our creation, our child, what we put all of our work into is gone! gone! gone! We need it back! Anything! All of it! Find it! Bring it back to us! We're hungry! WE'RE HUNGRY!

and once you find yourself too exhausted to listen, to think, how badly you wish just to die already to cease hearing this wailing, you find your body moving without you. And it's hungry and it's searching and it's crawling on all fours and it misses its beautiful red life that made it feel so full before and it needs it back, and the next thing you know you're desperately grabbing anything with blood in it and shoving it in your mouth in a desperate attempt to sooth this cry for life, you don't want to die, you don't want to die, you worked so hard to keep up this body and craft it and LIVE with it and you're not going to go, and even when you try, even when you try to lay down and die, your body refuses, it takes the reigns, and it keeps up the work itself with or without your help. And it's not until your stomach is full and your teeth are stained and you feel a pulsating burning in your bones that you snap back awake, completely conscious, just fine. You're lucid, you don't feel any more pain. Everything around you is dead and drained and messy and your heart still isn't beating. but you can breathe now and holy shit you guess you literally need to kill to survive and the less you eat and the more you starve yourself the worse it gets when your body finally decides to take recourse.

my idea was like. "the vampires curse is actually stored in the bones, thats why the teeth get so sharp and also theres a connection between blood and bones with the creation via bone marrow" its literally like i was sitting there thinking "no no no, whats it like to be a vampire. what neurosis would you develop. How would you panic? What are common mistakes beginner vampires make" which, by the way, gordon is a beginner vampire

so now you gotta factor, what blood lasts for how long? how long can you go between meals? not only that, but what creatures satisfy the urge? How long can you go avoiding human blood? Does it work like drugs where you develop a resistance to the high, or is it like food where it will keep you moving until you eat again? How the fuck are you gonna get your hands on blood? Can you just eat raw meat? Does that count? and thats where im at lol

OKAY now. now thoughts on beginning scenes of vampire au

So my idea was this Doomguy is a vampire hunter independent and one of his buds says that some freak scared and almost attacked his daughter when she got too close to his old abandoned laboratory up the hill and hes like “he might be… you know… a problem. if you needed a lead” and guys like yeah i fuckin hate the undead ill kill this dude so he busts into old lab space and sees so many dead animals its actually mostly Bones and pelt that hes seeing piles of feathers etc so hes like yeah this is all telltale signs of vampire uhhh hes introduced to gordon SOMEHOW im not totally sure of the details but the working idea i have is guy falls into a trap gordon devised that restrains him suspended in wire or something and gordon like. limps/stumbles into the room and this dude looks haggard he’s breathing heavy, his cheeks are hollow, he’s bug-eyed and shaking while looking at this massive wall of meat in his trap and he bares a bunch of hideous teeth and grits them and looks like hes really struggling with somethin... Like if these dudes don't know each other then Gordon might give in and try to drain Guy, and Guy would absolutely do anything in his power to turn this new vampire into ash, im thinking the inclusion if g-man as a coven leader can fix both issues.

i like the idea of guy falling into gordons trap and gordon thinking about what to do with him before gman shows up and whisks gordon away for a “meeting” while complimenting him on his good work catching the most feared vampire hunter in the country and gman just leaving guy suspended in wires that he has to fight his way out of. Instant situation defuser.

Guy ends up needing to take care of other monsters before going back to Gordon, and he DOES plan to go back to gordon, because no vampire is a good one, especially not one associated with the fucking head of a coven, but next time he sees Gordon, Gordon helps him out of a scrape by attacking and draining a combine who was going to take Guy out or something and escaping before Guy can catch him, or otherwise seeing Gordon do something good with his insane undead powers and like, the third time he meets up with him is when they can actually talk, and Gordons fuckin SO haggard, he’s not even fighting back and he’s even going as far as to say “just make sure theres nothing of me left when you’re done, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt”

Side Note: Guy has a bunch of scarring on his body from dealing with vampires, cops, ghosts, werewolves, anything violent that kills people. I'm playing with the inkling of an idea that he has Divine Blood in him, so that any time something undead bites him or tries to drink his blood, it burns. We'll see.

Side Note 2: now i really like the idea of the combine actually being an organized faction of vampire hunters that are WICKED crooked and exploit people for all their worth in exchange for their “safety” when they kill a vampire They’re essentially loansharks and Guy fucking hates them and hates the name theyve given to vampire hunting

Side Note 3: You've probably noticed that I haven't said anything about John yet! He's in this too. His species is a surprise but I need to get to him later I have an idea for where he came from (Cortana too)

I still need a good reason for Guy to not instantly kill this vampire, if not it's just gonna be "Gordon Freeman escapes the countrys best vampire hunter like a seventh time" every time they meet and they end up being rivals. And it gives Guy enough time to look past the whole "undead monster" thing and start looking at the "Oh this dude figured out how to fight his ridiculous craving for blood in a way more humane than most and is actually staying out of peoples way and keeping to himself. Guess he's not that big of a threat but I still need to keep an eye on him in case he loses it. Turns out he's got a family (Probably Alyx, Eli, Issac and Barney) who's been lookin for him and cares about him as well, don't wanna hurt them". I like the idea of them ending up needing to team up to take out undead together.

And that's what I got so far!!!

[poisonousroxstar]

Imagine:

Wally with a cheerful trainer s/o, who's dying from an illness

Trigger warning: dying reader, dead reader. Illness. Angst. Toxicly positive reader? Possible grammar mistakes.

Wally first met you on the day he was going to get his very first pokemon! To his surprise, you were here for the same thing! Norman was nice enough to lend you both a spare Pokémon and balls for you two!

He remembers how nerve-wracking but thrilling it was catching his ralts. When he did, you praised him! And gosh, he couldn't help but blush at your comment.

He invited you over to his parents house, and you both became quickly familiar with one another; becoming friends (and also rivals) very quickly!

Since both of your pokemon were relatively weak, the two of you decided to train together.

Eventually, you were confident that your Pokémon was ready to take on the first gym! Wally wasn't nearly as confident though, thus you two parted ways.

You told Wally you'd see him around! Giving him a gleeful smile that made his heart skip a beat. It appeared he had a small crush..

You guys wouldn't meet again until the second gym. Wally had moved to come stay with his uncle, and by then he had gotten a little stronger! When he saw you, Wally couldn't help but get a little giddy and blush ever so slightly.

After your guys' battle, his uncle invited you over to his home. He noticed how his nephew was behaving, and thought it might be good to bring over his crush!

You cheerfully accepted! And even wanted to race Wally there! Although, that didn't work out as his condition rendered running a bit.... Problematic. Soo, instead of that, you trailed alongside him and chatted about your adventures and experiences so far.

You sort of took a break on your journey to spend time with the lime haired boy. And he couldn't have been more thrilled!

At first, you two trained together. Being on break didn't mean you couldn't get some experience in!

Eventually, you two started doing everything together. Hanging out and enjoying the beautiful area, especially the flowers. Fooling around, even if Wally sometimes protested against your ideas. And lazing together during uneventful days.

It was on one of those days you asked about his condition, and what it was that forced him to move to his uncles.

Wally paused for a moment, before replying with an answer. He thought that by becoming a trainer, he could become stronger, both as a person and with his illness.

His answer made you admire him, and you felt like you owed him something in return. So, with your cheerful tone that made beautiflies flutter in his tummy, you said:

"well... I'm technically dying!"

Wally gave you a shocked expression, and almost thought you were joking because of your tone.

But it wasn't a joke, unfortunately. You told him you had an illness that was slowly killing. You became a trainer as a way to see the entire region before your death, and take on the gyms in an attempt to become the champion of hoenn!

Wally stayed with a shocked expression "s/o... I'm so sorry..". You hushed him, saying that you weren't afraid of it, or sad. Maybe you were a long time ago but now? You were fine!

To lighten the mood, you reassured him that everything was ok. Wally was awed at how much you accepted your fate. He understood, since he had his own issues as well, but to know you were dying and still be happy? He doesn't think even he could be as jolly.

You brightened up the somber atmosphere with optimism, stating that you were here, and ready to make the most out of everything!

Wally couldn't help his racing heart when you smiled. Your cheerfulness and determination made him feel so warm and fuzzy inside. It was more then obvious he had a massive crush on you, and in a way, you returned those feelings as well.

Once that was clear cut, you decided to ask him out! Gosh, he was a blushing mess when you did, stuttering over his words and behaving more meek then normal. But... He accepted, a small smile on his lips.

The date was simple, but very cute. You two were strolling together around both Verdanturf town and Mauville city. The old couple of the daycare even let you both help tend with some of the pokemon. Although Wally was a bit hesitant, the pokemon cooed to his gentleness and calm nature. It was truly a precious moment!

It didn't take much time for you two to become a thing! Although yous never said it directly, it was clear as day you two were helplessly in love with each other.

It was also around this time you and Wally decided to resume your pokemon journey. Wally suggested you two stick together for the remainder of it, and you found the idea cute, so you two did!

But the plan didn't last too long.. halfway through your two's adventure, you began to cough. You often didn't think much of it, since it was something that happened a lot for you. Given your conditions and... everything.

But once you looked down at your hand, you noticed it was stained with.... Blood? You had coughed out blood, some of it coming out in small clumps.

This hadn't happened before, and you were actually... Very scared. Perhaps because it reminded you of your morality.. or because of Wally.

You couldn't let him see you like this. What would happen? How would he react? The last thing you wanted was to suspend his own adventure just because of you.

Wally noticed how quiet you got after your coughing fit, and asked if something was wrong. You hid away your bloody hand and hastily wiped any remaining traces of blood on your mouth, turning to him with your smile that always tug on his heartstrings "Yep! I'm fine! Just..."

You had to find an excuse. A way so Wally wouldn't suspect something. So, in a slightly sudden voice, you told Wally it was time to part ways.

At first, he interpreted it as you breaking up with him, which left him confused and very hurt; but when you explained it was just because you wanted to get the next gym badge, he sighed in relief you weren't ending the relationship. Although he was still puzzled by why you wanted to go on your own and a part of him didn't want you to leave. Something didn't feel right.

But you reassured him you'd see him again! And told him you two could still keep in contact through the phone! Although he still felt like something was... off... Wally just chopped it up to him being paranoid, and maybe even a little bit possessive? He wasn't sure, relationships were such a new concept to him.

With that and a peck on the cheek, you took off! And Wally waved you goodbye.

Wally then decided, he needed to get stronger! He hoped that the next time you two saw each other, you'd be impressed with how much he improved as a trainer and as a person, who wasn't bound to his illness.

Illness.. that's right, you were also sick, but much worse. Honestly, you were so good at hiding and quickly recovering from the symptoms, Wally almost forgot you were dying..

His chest ached at the thought of you dying. One of his fears was you dying before he could even talk with you again. His heart held so much love for you, and Wally wished that somehow he could take away your pain...

But your numbered days served as motivation. He wanted to get stronger, for you. He wanted to show you how far he came, and how far you've come!

Wally believed in you as well. He found you admirable for your optimism. He thought you could do anything! And that, even if you were dying, you'd survive, and make it.

Wishful thinking, I suppose.

But as Wally got stronger, you only grew weaker. The doctors you had visited said your condition had suddenly worsen out of the blue.

They said, at best, they could give you a few extra weeks of life. Maybe a month or 3, but you'd be heavily restricted. At that point, you'd be stuck to a hospital bed; your journey finishing right then and there.

So, you went against what they said. You held onto hope that, at the very least, you'd be able to collect all the gym badges.

Your calls with Wally became a bit more frequent, which he didn't reject to. Actually, he was really, really happy to hear you! Sometimes he'd get scared that something awful happened to you, so hearing your voice helped calm him.

You avoided telling him the truth though, instead asking about him, his Pokemon, and how far he is. Wally answered every question you had, becoming especially bright regarding his trainer status. You could hear the light and excitement irradiating from his voice, which made you smile.

When he asked about yours, you put on a cheery voice as you often did. Telling him everything was grand! You'd gotten a lot stronger, and had managed to collect another gym badge!

He congratulated you, saying how awesome you were! He asked if, when you two met again, you'd be willing to battle him.

You paused for a moment, not sure how to reply. You didn't want him to see you, not in your slowly deteriorating state. But at the same time you missed him. You wanted to see him again, physically. So, with an unheard reluctance, you agreed to the brawl!

Wally was concerned. You had never sounded so meek before. Never sounded so resistant to see him. He wondered if he did something wrong? If he displeased you someway. He tried not to let it get to his head, but the thought did irk him.

..when Wally finally saw you, he noticed how different you looked. Wally wasn't oblivious, but he didn't know how to bring it up. So, for the time being, you guys caught up! You told Wally how far you've gotten so far, and showed off your collection of badges! You also showed him your Pokemon, how strong they had gotten.

But Wally kept quiet, or replied only in short sentences. You notice his concern expression intensify upon bringing your Pokemon out. Their faces showed hints of sadness.

Finally, Wally asked if you were ok. Your quick reply more or less confirmed you weren't, despite your response portraying the contrary.

He took your hand into his and told you softly that, it's ok if you don't want to tell him. He just wants to make sure you're fine. His skin was so soft you had just noticed, and his delicate hold brought you comfort.

So, with hesitance, you finally told him what was happening. You told him how your illness had advanced, how limited your time was, what they adviced and why you went against it.

Wally looked at you with shock and sadness, but he tried not to overreact. Instead, he held you.

You brushed off his concern, and challenged him to a battle! Wally was stunned by how quickly you tried shifting the topic, and he declined at first. But you reminded him of the ole' trainer rule:

If two trainers lock eyes with one another, it is mandatory they begin a battle!

You wanted to distract yourself and him. You didn't want your illness to be a burden. At the very least you wanted to enjoy the time you had with him instead of focusing solely on you.

When the battle concluded, as if on cue, you coughed out. Wally could tell you were in pain, even if you tried playing it off as if you weren't. He quickly came to you, asking what was wrong and if he needed to call the hospital!

You weakly say it's fine, but Wally rebuked in an attempt to bring you back to reality. It was obvious you weren't 'fine', and he tried to convince you to go see a doctor; at the very least they could offer you some sort of pain reliever!

What was only worry for your well-being evolved into an argument. Even if you put on a happy face and chipper persona, you were suppressing a lot of emotions, and Wally was the unfortunate 'pin to the balloon'.

You let everything pour out, such poisonous words being thrown at him. Wally was stunned into silence by you, only able to endure your verbal assault. Your toxicity would of likely continued if another coughing fit hadn't taken over.

But this time, you weren't able to hide the pain. Your coughs rapidly grew worse, and the ache became too much to the point where your legs buckled in.

Wally panicked when he saw you dropping, but was able to keep calm enough to call the ambulance. He tried to help you as much as he could, but he didn't know what to do. Even you didn't.

When help finally arrived you had completely knocked out, a sickening pool of dark crimson pouring from your mouth that had convinced Wally for a moment that you were gone.

You were rushed to the nearest hospital. Wally wanted to come along with you, but the doctors refused and didn't take the precious time to hear his pleas.

..for the next few days, all Wally could think about was you. His journey had reached another stop, and he tried to stay at the hospital for as long as he could.

The only people he seemed to interact with was his gardivour, his uncle, and his parents. Other then that he had turned completely mute.

He felt guilty, as if this was his fault. The last thing you'd remember if you didn't make it was the two of you getting into an argument. Maybe if he hadn't been so pushy, you wouldn't of had a fit and be here.

He knew it was dumb to think like that, but he couldn't help it.

Sometimes, he'd visit your Pokemon who had been transported to a daycare in the hospital. They seemed just as scared as Wally was, but he knew fearing wouldn't do anything; it wasn't what you wanted either.

So, he tried to be positive. He thought you'd be able to pull through. You were one of the strongest people he knew!

You couldn't die yet, not when you hadn't even completed the gym challenges!

His optimism brought hope to your Pokemon, and to him as well! But Wally was split if he truly believed in what he just preached.

And every day that passed. Every hour you remained in your bed, motionless minus your chest pumping up and down from a machine you were hooked up with.

That hope grew dimmer and dimmer.

Sometimes he'd talk to you, gently rubbing your hand. Your guardian(s) allowed him to be near you, which he couldn't be more thankful for.

He'd tell you about his day, how boring the hospital was. He wondered if you could hear him? He hoped you could.

Wally missed you. He missed you so, so much. He missed seeing you walking around, he missed hearing your voice; he just wanted you.

Wally tried to pull himself together. He didn't want to seem weak in front of you, not when you needed the utmost attention right now. But he couldn't control himself for long.

Wally's gentle whimpers grew into uncontrollable crying. He was pleading to you, pleading to anyone, begging anyone to just---not take you away.

"P-please, S/O... I can't lose you. I...I love you!"

He wanted his words to reach you somehow, so that maybe... Maybe you would wake up.

But no amount of love laced words could pull you from your eternal slumber.

Your heart monitor began dropping. The beating of the machine inducing an intense anxiety into Wally. He cried out for help, and the doctors and nurses flooded the room like water.

Wally was pushed outside the room and force to watch as the medical team desperately tried to revive you. He felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach when every attempt resulted in nothing. No response, nothing.

The doctor came up to Wally, a sad expression on his face. The world went silent. He was muttering out words, lips moving, but Wally couldn't hear anything.

He didn't need to. He knew.

And he just breaks..

He's crying, perhaps even hyperventilating as the doctors attempted to calm him down. Wally knew you were gone. He thought he would be prepared for it, but the impact was too much for him to handle.

He cries, he cries a lot.

And then your funeral comes, but there aren't any tears. Not because he isn't sad, but because he can't squeeze anymore out. He just looks at your coffin in melancholy.

For awhile, Wally doesn't leave his house. When he returned to his parents, he is was nearly mute, and only stayed inside. All that progress had regressed, and he was back to his old self.

Wally wanted to care for your Pokemon himself, but he just wasn't in a good place. He couldn't even care for his own Pokemon, but they understood; your death affected them as well.

With some outside help from his family and his/your Pokemon, Wally slowly got better. Slow, but better.

It was painful for him, but he had to accept keeping you in memory while moving on.

He likes to think you'd want him to go forward, complete his journey. And he came up with a motivator; he couldn't be doing it for himself now, but for the both of you.

He'd do this. For you, and for himself.

He'll get stronger. He'll get braver. Because that's what you may of wanted from him.

Wally would never love someone as much as he did you. You mean the world to him. If only you two had more time together.

Wally will always miss you. The pain will lessen, perhaps even some of his feelings. But his love for you will mostly remain intact.

Wally would visit your grave frequently. But as time went on, the visits became less frequent. Still, he always brought your favourite gifts and most times your Pokemon came along with him.

He'll never forget you. Never.

This lovely artist is the person, I believe, made the drawing! I didn't ask for permission however, so if they ask me to remove the art, I shall!

[crystxlclear]

sudden desire

chapter three: so, maybe i’m not okay

part four of sudden desire

prologue / one / two / masterlist

in which two best friends won’t admit they’re in love so decide to have a baby together instead.

pairing: marcus pike x original female character

word count: 2.5k (short lil chapter today!)

warnings: mentions of illness? other than that, none that i can think of? maybe the tiniest smidge of angst if you squint

Coraline has always been close to her father. One of her very first memories involved her perched on his shoulders at a Fleetwood Mac gig. He'd managed to sneak Cora, her brother, Daniel, and her heavily pregnant mom side-stage — the perks of him managing the venue at the time, in between jobs — and he'd cried when he'd heard her singing along to his favourite band. The show was all she'd talked about for a solid two weeks. Sure, the memories were a little grainy and probably warped by a crackly VHS tape of her mother's that she used to watch almost every day, but they were memories she held onto it as tightly as she could.

It was her father who took her first (dreadful) headshots, and him who she'd turned to when her sister died, and him who'd persuaded her that leaving everything and everyone she knew and loved back in Michigan to settle down in California (and then, later, D.C.) was a good idea. She owes her dad a lot, which is why the phone call has been playing on her mind all day.

The call came at 3am. She'd only fallen asleep two hours earlier, after Loren had arrived to pick up Maisie an hour late, hair a mess and rushing to apologise. Marcus had left a little while later and she'd practically collapsed into bed a few minutes later. She'd been woken by the low humming of her phone vibrating against her bedside table as it shot light through her dimly lit bedroom. She'd groaned uncomfortably and reached for it, cheek wedged awkwardly between her pillows and the mattress and legs tangled wildly in the sheets (Scott had always said she wriggled a lot in her sleep, but she'd always assumed he was exaggerating, until she slept alone).

She'd scowled when she'd seen it was her dad; he knew her schedule, and she'd told him she was up early when they'd spoken earlier that day. He never rings her late and it takes a moment for the frustration of being woken early by her phone to bleed away into worry and concern.

"Hello?" She'd croaked our groggily. "Are you okay? Is mom okay?"

She'd been met with a chuckle. His voice was low and gruff when it came, unusually thick and strangled. "Hey, Corrie." There was shuffling on the other end, hushed voices floating in and out of focus, until the phone went silent enough to think that maybe he'd hung up and hadn't meant to disturb her at all.

She'd scowled but her phone assured her he was still on the line. "Dad?" She'd called out to him. The panic had begun to rise when it wasn't his voice that replied.

"Coraline," her mother's soft voice breathed out. It was like a sigh of relief. "Sorry to bother you." Her French accent tipped the corner of her words. It always got stronger when she was upset or worried or scared, and it was especially thick now.

"What's wrong?"

Another pause. "Your father is in the hospital."

"What?" She’s suddenly holy upright, fear turning her blood to ice.

"He's fine, don't worry." She'd assured her. "He’s had some problems with his breathing again. They're doing some tests."

She'd almost booked a flight back to Michigan, almost abandoned filming and ran back home to make sure her dad was okay. The last time he'd been in hospital, it had been touch and go, and they'd spent an entire day huddled at his bedside in fear, just in case he'd stopped breathing. It was touch and go, and she couldn't live with herself if the worst happened and she never got to say goodbye to the man she owed so much to. She'd been in the process of scanning over the next flights on her laptop when her dad had taken the phone back from her mom and practically demanded that she stay in D.C.

Eventually, she'd relented. He'd promised to update her and she'd told them she loved them both before hanging up. But the phone call had sent her entire day into a tailspin.

She’d tried to sleep the extra hour and a half before she had to haul herself to work but her mind was running too wild for that. Even despite the reassurances, worry was plaguing her thoughts and panic was forcing her eyes open. Everything was just too much.

The last time it had happened, she'd had Scott. It was back when things were good, and he'd held her as she'd finally fallen asleep, curled up against him in an uncomfortable hospital chair.

But, now, he’s gone. Now, then, she was stood on set alone, trying her best to bite back a yawn and the tears, with so much concealer hiding the dark circles under her eyes that she can feel it clinging desperately to her skin. And, of course, life had picked the day when they had the most action scenes to film to deprive her of sleep.

Her entire body ached. She isn't sure how she's still standing after the first hour of work, with her legs protesting with every movement. Two hours of sleep and the running and the jumping and the endless stunts had sapped every last scrap of energy from her bones. She'd carried on stoically for most of the morning but she's truly never been more grateful for a lunch hour before, when she finds herself curled up against the couch in her trailer, passing out even despite the panic still swelling in her chest. She'd been surprised when she hadn't cried — maybe she was just too exhausted and her body simply couldn't muster the tears — but she's grateful she manages to keep the tears in because she doesn't want to haul herself back to set with mascara tears on her cheeks.

She’s even more grateful when she makes it home after a day that feels like five rolled into one and the scattered couch cushions look far too inviting for her to ignore.

It's an uncomfortable sleep and she wakes with the beginnings of a headache thrumming through her skull and a stiffness in her spine that she can't seem to straighten out. She's not sure how long she's managed to sleep — barely half an hour, she assumes — because she's woken by a soft knock on the door instead of the alarm she'd set on her phone. It wakes her with a jolt and she can't help but groan at the aching protests her limbs give when she stands. She shuffles across the apartment to the door and Marcus is stood there, smiling, his suit jacket and tie draped across his arm.

She's half dressed too - only he looks a damn sight better than she does, because his hair isn't dishevelled and messy and his shirt isn't twisted half way around his torso. She shouldn't have slept in her clothes but at least she had the hindsight to take off the stiff jeans. Except, now, she’s startlingly aware she’s standing before Marcus in nothing but her underwear and an unforgivably tight tank top.

"Good evening, Sunshine." He grins, that smile that makes her think that maybe he should be the one she called 'Sunshine'. "I brought you coffee." An odd offering at nine on a Wednesday evening but she’d been complaining, via text, about the lack of quality caffeine all day. Marcus offers her a polystyrene takeout cup as he steps inside.

"Lifesaver," she mumbles as she grabs it by the flimsy top and shuffles towards the kitchen to pour it into her unused Death Cab for Cutie mug — the mug her brother bought her three birthdays ago — and sips on the coffee. It's far too hot but she doesn't care; she needs the caffeine just to keep her eyes open. She grabs the blanket that she’s been sleeping under and wraps it around her waist, hyper-aware that she’s still wandering around in her underwear. She’s almost too tired to care.

"Are you okay?" It’s almost like he can tell. Though, she’s sure it probably has something to do with the dark bags beneath her eyes. She’s sure it probably looks like she’s been punched square in the face.

She shrugs. "I'll be fine. 'm just tired," She hums. Coraline slumps back against the couch cushions, pulls a thick blanket back over her body and lets her eyes flutter shut again. She groans and pinches the bridge of her nose.

"Bad night sleep?" There’s bags and piles of fresh laundry piled on the chair he usually sits on, a product of Coraline’s half-hearted attempt at productivity. Instead, he resigns and sits down beside her at the opposite end of the couch, lifting her legs absentmindedly to rest in his lap, sipping on his own drink, and smiling at her sympathetically as she stifles a yawn against the back of her hand.

Her eyes drag towards him when she opens them again. They rest on his face, studying everything from the softness of his brow and the curve of his prominent nose, to the scattering of facial hair that dances across his jaw, small patches of grey poking through at the edges. She’s glad he kept it after whatever undercover work he’d been assigned to before they’d even met. "If I tell you it was the worst night sleep I'd ever had, in my entire life, would that make me sound dramatic?"

"You? Dramatic?" Marcus scoffs and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. His free hand rests on her leg; he draws patterns against her skin but she’s not even sure he realises he’s doing it. "Never."

“Shut up.” Coraline glares at him but smiles, regardless. "Well, I think I'm allowed a pass today."

His face falls at her words. "What happened?"

She sighs and takes a hand through her hair. "My dad-" She eyes him as he watches her intently, brown eyes soft and comforting. "-he's ill again."

Cora had told him about her dad's illness, about how she worried he'd wind up back there again, in the hospital, that things would be worse this time. He'd listened to her like what he was saying was the most important thing in the world and she'd almost cried when he'd held her in a hug a little longer than usual. It was that night that she’d tried to ask him about his past; she wasn’t sure if he was trying to avoid telling her because he didn’t trust her or because it held things he didn’t want to relive. She half-hoped it was the latter, but she hated to think that he might be bottling things up, things he didn’t want her to know or didn’t feel comfortable sharing.

She wishes he’d tell her things. She’ll understand, no matter what it was. She’ll listen, like he does to her, for as long as he needs, as long as he wants.

It’s almost comical how different they are in that sense. Marcus is reserved, closed off, but in way that doesn’t suit him. It’s like whatever exists there, whatever memories lingered, had been withered by sadness, by something or someone, until there’s a barrier guarding his secrets and story that he hasn’t meant to build. She sees the softness in his eyes when she tells him her stories or shares her fears, like his heart is aching to spill the details of his past. Like he can’t let it out. It works for his job — undercover work, secrets, classified information — but somehow it doesn’t suit the smile and the softness of his words as he illuminates Coraline’s darkness.

Coraline, on the other hand, finds her words spilling from her chest before she can even hold them back. She’s not sure if it’s just him — the reassuring smiles, the soft brush of a hand, the gentle voice — but they pour from her at an almost embarrassing speed, like a waterfall of words cascading at regrettable speed. She’s not even entirely sure that she won’t spill her secrets to the next stranger in the street who offers her a smile. But that works for her job; people prying, picking her apart like vultures, scavengers of information found tucked away out of reach. It’s the worst part of the job description, to expect someone to know every detail of your private life, but she often thinks she’s open enough to sate them, until they leave her alone at last.

On paper, they make no sense. Jobs, the polar opposite, necessary privacy mixed with relentless publicity. Open and closed doors. But Coraline thinks, perhaps, that’s why they work. It balances them both out.

Marcus reaches over and catches her hand in his. There's barely any space between them because of the way they’re sat, with her feet prodding at his knees. "I'm sorry, Cora," he whispers, his thumb running over her knuckles softly.

After a shaky smile, gazes locked for maybe a little too long, Coraline stands up and smooths out her shirt. As much as she appreciates it, and appreciates him, she doesn't want to cry. Not today. "It'll be okay." She scrapes her thumb under her eyes, brushing away the black smudges that she's sure have formed underneath her eyes, and finishes the last of her coffee. "Everything will be okay."

Cora isn't entirely sure she believes that.

[ethereousdelirious]

This is not finished but I’m posting it anyway 1) because I’m honestly not sure if I’ll ever finish it and 2) because it’s a CRIME that I haven’t whumped P\ercy yet

This is exactly the kind of fic that middle school aged Ethereous would have lost their shit over haha

Fandom: C\ritical R\ole C\ampaign 1

Characters: P\ercy, V\ex, K\eyleth

Pairing: N/A

Tropes: a\ppendicitis, caretaking, vomiting in semi-public

Summary: There’s not much to it honestly-- It’s the obligatory a\ppendicitis fic that every f\andom needs

Warnings/Notes: Brief mention of vomiting (nothing explicit) As far as symptoms, I had a\ppendicitis when I was 10, so I kinda based this on what I remember, plus prettying some things up to make for a more engaging story Spoiler-free, plausibly canon

It wasn't unusual for Percy to wake up feeling like absolute shit. In fact, that was more often the case than not. It came with being a wanderer, he supposed.

Still, warm in his bed at Greyskull Keep, he had expected to wake up feeling refreshed, not like death warmed over.

He sat up slowly and his stomach gave an angry pulse in response. That was okay, then. He could handle a stomach ache, a little nausea.

He got dressed, leaving his coat behind, and headed downstairs to see who was awake.

The smell of bacon greeted him, and his stomach gave a nervous little flutter. 

Vex and Keyleth were both awake, although they were doing more conversing than eating. Percy sat down to join them and immediately poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Percy," Vex said. She leaned over and took the mug from him. "Thank you, darling."

Percy took this in stride and merely poured out another cup. "Some for you as well, Keyleth?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Oh, no thank you."

"You look pale," Vex said conversationally, stealing the cream out from under Percy's hand.

"I should hope so," Percy said back. "I'd be quite concerned if I wasn't."

"You do look pale," Keyleth agreed. "Did you not sleep well?"

"I slept just fine," Percy said, stealing the cream back from Vex. "I'm always pale. I'm a pale person."

"You know what I meant." Vex gave him a keen look and nudged a plate of bacon toward him. "Humor me and eat something."

Sensing a trap, Percy took a dignified sip of his coffee. "Later."

"He'd tell if something was wrong," Keyleth said pointedly to Vex. "Wouldn't you, Percy?"

He gave her his most winning smile. "Of course I would, dear."

"Alright," Vex grumbled. "You still look pale, though."

Percy, keen to drop the subject, let her have the last word on it. "So, shopping today?"

To his surprise, Vex scoffed. "I know Vax is going to want to get an eyeful of Gilmore's Glorious Goods, if you know what I mean."

Percy choked on his coffee. His side throbbed momentarily and he crossed his free arm over his stomach.

"Vex!" Keyleth was turning a furious red.

"What? He has no shame about it!" 

"Well," Percy said diplomatically, "perhaps we can go separately. I would like to see Gilmore."

"Oh, me too," Keyleth said. "I want to see what kind of books he has."

"Well, I," Vex said dramatically, "want a new dress. Why not, right? We have the money. What do you think, Keyleth? Want to come dress shopping with me?"

"Ooh, yes!" Keyleth beam.

"And you, Percy? Want to buy a dress?"

"No comment,” Percy said. “Although I would be happy to accompany you if you don't mind stopping by a blacksmith's after. I could use some more scrap metal."

"We should leave early, then," Vex said. "Vax is going to want to stick together and it's going to hurt his feelings if we all tease him about Gilmore."

They left not long after. Percy was pleased to find that he had made it through breakfast without actually having to eat anything, and neither Vex nor Keyleth noticed.

He had never been sick like this before-- His stomach ached a little, particularly on the right side, and he felt a bit nauseated, but that was it. It got a little worse when they were walking, but not by much.

It was just distracting, that was all.

Unfortunately, he had nothing else to think about while Vex and Keyleth fawned over dresses together.

"This green one would look so pretty on you," Vex said, pointing one out to Keyleth. "Don't you think so, Percy?" 

"Hm?" He shook himself and uncrossed his arms.

Vex frowned, the dress forgotten. "Are you okay? You really don't look well."

"I'm," Percy's breath stuttered in his chest, which was odd, "fine." He swallowed, suddenly feeling much worse.

Vex frowned, obviously not buying it. She and Keyleth rounded on him in sync. "You're sure? Nothing's wrong?" she pressed.

Gods, but Vex was scary when she wanted to be. Keyleth too. "I'm… A bit tired, I suppose?" Percy admitted. "I can handle a bit of shopping, it's not like I'm about to collapse or anything." His side gave a sharp throb and he winced.

Keyleth was on him in an instant. "What was that?"

"Alright, alright, for goodness' sake." Percy put up his hands. "Really, I just feel a bit off. You've never had an off day? I promise I'm not so noble or stupid that I would insist on spending a day out shopping when I should be in bed."

This at last seemed to pacify Vex and Keyleth.

"Okay, but tell us if you need to go home, alright?" Vex said.

Percy tried not to roll his eyes. "I will."

He didn't. Not when a cold sweat started to form on the back of his neck, not when his stomach began to roil, not when the pain got so bad he had to grit his teeth to keep from crying out. For one thing, he wasn't even sure he could walk the few meters across the shop to get Vex's attention.

How did it get this bad? One minute he had been lightly bored in a dress shop, and the next--

He bit his lip and swallowed back a wave of nausea. He needed to leave, now, and he was paralyzed.

"Vex?" he managed, his voice tight and thready, "Keyleth?"

Keyleth heard him. She looked over and her eyes widened. "Oh, Percy." She went to him and placed a cool, soft hand on his forehead. "Oh, Percy," she said again. "Oh, no."

"Can we please go now?" Percy asked through gritted teeth.

"Let me get Vex."

Percy nodded and Keyleth turned away. The pain began to subside, not by much, but enough that he longer felt in danger of collapsing. His shoulders relaxed a bit. By the time Keyleth returned with Vex he was breathing normally and was even confident he could walk, at least a short distance.

"Percy, what's wrong? Vex asked.

"I'm, uh," he paused, trying to find words that wouldn't worry her too much, "I think I need to go home."

"He's burning up, Vex," Keyleth said.

"Oh, darling." Vex put a hand on his forehead.

"We should go," Percy said, keenly aware of the melodrama about to unfold. He knew for a fact he wasn't going to make it back without vomiting, and he would really rather not do inside the shop.

"What's the matter?" Vex asked. She looked at him and evidently noticed the way he had his arms wrapped around himself. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yes," Percy said urgently. It was starting to get bad again, centered around his right side. "Let's go. Please."

Vex and Keyleth flanked him and steered him out of the shop. His movements were stiff, clumsy. They weren't moving nearly as fast as he wanted to, but his body didn't seem to want to work.

Despite the bright spring sun, he was starting to shiver, and the pain was so bad it brought tears to his eyes.

This did not go unnoticed.

"Oh, Percy," Keyleth breathed. "Do you want to stop for a bit?"

"No," he said through gritted teeth.

"Do you think Pike will be able to help with this?" Vex asked.

"I'm sure she will," Keyleth said. 

Percy pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders to try to stave off the violent shivers wracking his frame. His whole body was shaking with pain and cold.

He looked around frantically. It was late enough in the morning that streets were bustling and there was very little privacy to be found. His stomach lurched and he stopped abruptly, doubling over in pain.

Vex tugged sharply on his arm. He staggered after her with Keyleth in tow, nearly blinded by the agonizing throb in his side.

"It's okay, Percy," Vex was saying. Someone was stroking his hair. He fell to his hands and knees and vomited. The pain dulled somewhat and he took in a few shallow, rasping breaths. "I s-swear it wasn't this bad this morning," he said. He hauled himself to his feet and looked around. Vex had led him to an empty alleyway.

"I know," Vex said, her brow furrowed. "We're almost home."

Percy wiped his mouth on his sleeve, making a note to avoid this part of town for a while. Again, the waves of agony seemed to be dying down, though it never completely went away. His fever certainly wasn't getting any better.

The world took on a vague, sort of dreamy quality as he walked, until suddenly they were back at Greyskull and he was staring at the landing on the top of the stairs.

Shivering head to toe, he leaned on the banister and started to ascend the stairs, with Vex stationed at his side and Keyleth behind him. He made it without assistance and collapsed into bed without bothering to take off his boots.

"We need to find Pike," Vex said.

"I think," Percy kicked aimlessly at his calf, trying to remove his boot without sitting up, "I'm sorry, I think I need a proper doctor."

"Is it really that bad?" Vex put her hand on his forehead again and brushed his damp hair out of his face. "Poor thing." She put her other hand on his stomach and he flinched away reflexively. "Did that hurt?" she asked.

"A bit," Percy said.

"Percy," she said sharply, "where exactly does it hurt?"

"Ah…" He opened his coat and gestured at the lower right of his abdomen, scared to even touch it.

"Shit."

"What is it?" Keyleth asked, wide-eyed.

"This happened to Vax, when we were kids. Magic can't cure it. They had to do surgery to fix it. He still has the scar."

"Surgery?" Percy said, trying to keep the note of fear out of his voice. He knew there were some illnesses that magic simply couldn't cure, but this… He'd never had surgery before. The idea of someone cutting him open made his skin crawl.

"It's urgent," Vex said. She turned to Keyleth. "Here, take all my money and go. Please."

"Are you sure?" Keyleth looked at Percy.

"You can't both stay and fuss over me," Percy said. He closed his eyes. "I hate to be a bother but, when you decide, can the person who remains please take my boots off?"

"Alright, I'll go," Vex said.

Percy sighed through his nose.

"Alright, boots off," Keyleth said with false cheer. She tugged off Percy's boots and stared down at him. "Do you want to go under the covers?"

"No, thank you," Percy said.