comfort-questing - Tumblr blog

[comfort-questing]

Is Tumblr still alive? I haven’t posted in a hot minute but here’s something that I was pretty proud of recently!

[comfort-questing]

ah, the classic “character has been impaled and pinned to a wall or the floor”

[comfort-questing]

recovering A is sitting outside with caretaker B. it’s a pleasant day, with mild weather and sunshine, and B figures that even though A’s still fairly weak, the fresh air will do them good. and for a while, it does seem to lift their spirits and bring a bit of color back in their pale cheeks.

A enjoys being outdoors at first, but despite their sweater and the heat of the afternoon sun, they’re barely warm at all.

suddenly, the sun darts behind a cloud, and A shudders.

“feeling alright?” B asks, brow furrowing.

“I’m okay.” A wraps their arms around themselves, trying to ignore the goosebumps that prickle down their spine, and wishes they’d brought out a blanket to tuck around them. I thought the sweater was enough, it’s not even that cold.

the sun returns a few minutes later, but it’s too late—A feels their frail body start to tremble, overcompensating for the slight change in temperature.

“A, you’re shivering.”

“Just got a chill, that’s all.” A hates the way their voice wavers, the way they can barely force the words out through their chattering teeth, the way their bones are suddenly, impossibly freezing, like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over their head.

B jumps up from their chair and instantly comes to A’s side, cursing softly. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have brought you out—“

“It’s fine, B. I wanted to come outside for a change.” Still, B helps them up and guides them inside to their chair, then covers their shivering frame with one blanket, then two, and begins to build up the fire in the small cabin.

“I’ll make you some tea, too, try and warm you up from the inside…” B’s voice trails off as they rustle around in the kitchen.

But A knows it’s no use from experience: they won’t truly stop feeling chilled until their hot bath tonight. And I can’t take my bath too early or else I’ll inevitably get cold some other stupid way, and I’m not making B run me two baths.

Recovering has been slow and frustrating, this part most of all. Why can’t their body maintain their temperature like it used to? Why are they so damn cold all the time?

They don’t realize they’re crying until they feel wipe away the twin tears on their cheeks, and they see B crouching to eye level. The concern on B’s face only makes A cry harder—they don’t want to be this weak, they didn’t used to be this way, they just want things to be better…

And they must say all that out loud, because now B’s arms are around them. “I know. I know it’s hard. We’ll get through this, A.”

There will be more blankets, and hot tea, and against A’s efforts, two baths. But in that moment, A’s never been more grateful for the warmth of B’s arms.

I will get through this.

[comfort-questing]

"sword fight"

spoilers for Furina lore / final Archon quest

-

it wasn't that Furina hadn't been stabbed before.

that was in the early days - an assassin who'd sneaked into the Palais and hid behind a door, to spring out as she wilted in the exhaustion that followed when she let the mask of her face and being slip at last. she'd screamed, of course, chest expanding in a bright stutter of agony around the knife blade slipped between her ribs. and as the Gardes rushed in she was more anxious to make sure that her voice did not shake, than that the blood stayed in her body as the knife was drawn back out.

she knew she could not die. the her that was both her and not her had told her so, and she believed her.

but this - this was not the same.

sure, the feeling of it began the same - the sudden pressure that was numbness and a starburst of pain as she unfroze her tense body - and flicked aside the second strike from the shabby dark-clothed man, his eyes obscured beneath his drawn-down hood. her sword sat easily enough in her hand, and the motions of battle a familiar dance, after all that she had studied it so long with her training masters between opera days.

she felt the hesitation, the fear in him, as she parried his blows. he had startled her, here on the outskirts of the port, in the dark of the night; in her baggy coat against the chilly air she must have seemed just another wayfarer coming home on the final aquabus of the evening. a quick forward twist and he gasped, staggering back, clutching at his thigh and swearing.

she raised the sword to his eye level, held outwards, and the next breath tore at her, sharp warmth soaking quickly through the layers at her waist. but her mask did not fail her, this time; whatever he saw in her face gave a final blow to his determination.

Furina let him go. the gardes might yet catch him; she wasn't going to run after him. she took a step forward, and felt her legs wobble beneath her, and all of a sudden didn't know if she could run if she had wanted to. the pain was ebbing up through her, her stomach clutching sick and heavy, and as she sheathed her sword in the folds of her coat her hand came away black beneath the moonlight.

the swish of waves against the pier, the clink of an aquabus at anchor, all seemed suddenly and unbearably loud around her. the cobblestones were icy beneath her knees, as she watched the dark stains spread there with each heaving pained breath.

I am human now, she thought, bleakly, in terror, I suppose this is what it feels like, to be human...

she tried to call on her new Vision, but weakly, faltering; instead of the Hydro specters only clear water spattered the roadway, shining against the blood.

"hey, do you need help?"

she didn't recognize the voice at first, but she recognized the wild dark curtain of hair, and the glint of a studded eyepatch in the moonlight. the butt of the long musket knocked against her legs as Chevreuse dropped down next to her, and she blinked hazily to see the musketeer's face change from vague concern to a sudden hard alarm.

"Lady Furina!"

this time, she did not have the strength to draw up the mask; this time, her voice was a trembly whisper as she spoke.

"I - do need help, I think," she said, and let herself fall forward into the other girl's waiting arms.

--

Chevreuse wasn't with her, when she woke, dizzy with ether and strange dreams. Clorinde was, though, sitting bolt-upright between two Melusines by the doorway to the hospital room, fingers quietly fidgeting with the dice that always appeared from her pockets at the worst of moments.

"don't move, my lady."

"I'm - not your Archon any longer," she murmured, and her mouth was dry as if cotton-stuffed, the bandages sticky against her skin and the pain a medicine-dulled burning beneath.

"yes, but always my lady. here, I'll call the nurse, now that you've woken."

"it's - morning?"

"yes." Clorinde nodded to one of the uniformed Melusines, who dodged back through the door into the early daylight beyond. "don't pull your stitches. believe me, it isn't any fun."

Furina stopped moving then, and let Clorinde bring a damp cloth to her lips, to wipe away the horrible parched feeling - "not too much, your insides are still recovering from having several holes made in them."

she could have drunk half the Lake of Fontaine if she'd been allowed, but Clorinde's face was gravely stern above her, shadows beneath her eyes. so she let her take the cloth away without complaint and lay her head back, as the patter of footsteps sounded in the hallway beyond.

"I thought I might die, Clorinde," she said, because she suddenly felt as if she had to say it - confess it, or else have the weakness haunt her forever. "I - I won't die, will I?"

"not for a long while, my lady," said Clorinde, and brushed the hair back from Furina's sweat-stichy forehead, as she might have done it to Chevreuse or anyone else, and sat down on the edge of the bed as the door opened to let the nurse in.

[comfort-questing]

A character shielding their companion from the elements with their own body- positioning themselves as a wind-block; sitting so their shadow is cast across their companion's face; leaning over them to provide scant shelter from the rain; curling close to lend their warmth; tucking their companion's face close and cupping a hand over it to block wind-blown grit or sand; acting as a human shield from pelting hail or sleet; cradling their companion in their lap to insulate them from the seeping cold of the ground...

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The Case Study of Vanitas | Vanitas no Carte – Chapter 54.5

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Whumpee let out a long sigh as they sunk into the hospital bed. Days were going by like a blur, they often hardly understood what was happening or remember what had happened.

The one thing they did know, was caretaker was here. No matter how much time went by, caretaker was by their side explaining everything, telling them to rest, keeping them fed and hydrated by hand if needed.

"You must be tired, you've been here with me for days. How long will you stay?" Whumpee mumbled, crawling their fingers across the bed until they found caretaker's hand.

"Until you're coming with me." Caretaker smiled, squeezing their hand back.

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"no - no - I don't need anything." their voice was ragged, barely to be heard between gasping breaths, but their hands clutched tightly nonetheless. "just - stay with me. just stay with me - for now - please."

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Qrow from RWBY

[comfort-questing]

A group of characters burst inside carrying their injured companion on a makeshift stretcher- a door, a plank, a litter of branches and jackets, a blanket, a tarpaulin- and those already inside scramble to clear room and prepare to treat what injuries they have in a sudden influx of urgency and activity.

[comfort-questing]

I know there's a well loved niche for royal whump, but lately I've been thinking a lot about royal *guard* whump.

Hurt for being loyal to the old king, punished for doing the thing they were trained to do. Grief-struck at the loss of their fellow guards in combat. Guilt at failing at their most important task: protecting the heart of kingdom.

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Undercover Whumpee with an alias freezing when they hear their real name spoken from Whumper’s mouth.

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they eyed the medicine spoon with bleary contempt, the heavy shadows under their eyes meeting the flush of their cheeks.

"don't you have... anything that tastes good."

their shaky voice, the hoarseness of their breaths, made their friend frown for an instant above them; but their hand with the spoon didn't falter.

" 'fraid not. but you can have more water, after."

they swallowed, grimacing, coughing a little as it went down. their eyelids sank, then fluttered open again, where they leaned against the crumpled pillows propping them up. "water. delightful..."

"if you stay awake I can make some meat broth." their friend sat on the edge of the bed, cup in hand. "anyway you need to drink more, you've been sweating so much."

"don't I... know it." they blinked again, forcing their eyes to focus. "you ...shouldn't be here. you'll get sick too."

"oh, so I ought have left you on the floor where I found you yesterday?" their friend said, hand steadying the cup at their mouth.

they drank, slowly, then seemed to register the words spoken and stopped to look up. "I was... on the floor?"

"like a rug."

"...oh." they licked at their cracked lips, then. "I don't remember... that."

"be more surprising if you did." their friend stood up, putting the cup to one side. "so unless you want to end up back there again, you should probably deal with my presence for a bit, and also my medicine."

amidst the pillows, they'd closed their eyes again, letting their heavy head fall to the side.

"I've got... some honey in the closet... with the tea. if you... don't mind."

"you're incorrigible," their friend said, and ruffled their hair before turning away - "what shelf?"

there was no answer, only the slow lengthening of their raspy breaths.

"oh, never mind, it can't be too hard to find."

[comfort-questing]

[comfort-questing]

ooh fun

dog training, specially for German shepherds and most specially for our local crew of them

the backstories, foibles, and preferences of all 4 of our parrots and a lot of our parrot friends in the area

I probably could talk about Fate/Zero for an hour but sincerely doubt how much sense it would make to anyone but myself

sensory stuff and autism and neurodivergent learning

low budget community theater

I saw this meme going around on twitter and I think it'll be perfect for this account.

List 5 topics you can talk on for an hour without preparing any material.

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[comfort-questing]

Wolf's Rain - Ep 05 & 06