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shuichi-sama · 6 months

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to heal with you.

park jongseong x reader, park sunghoon x reader (one sided)

description: jay offers to save you from the clutches of your one sided love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, feeling of unworthiness, cheating, idk what else.

note: lower case intended! not really proof read, bad case of bad writing, sorry! i’m a sucker for angst especially unrequited love!

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“i could never tell him.” you declare to jay, who’s rubbing circles on your back to soothe your shattering heart.

you were madly in love with one of your best friend, park sunghoon, but as luck would have it those feelings weren’t reciprocated. how’d you know? it was plainly obvious. sunghoon seats a couple of tables away in the cafeteria with the girl who captivates his heart in ways you wish you could but would never.

she was everything you could never amount to be. beautiful, smart, confident, outgoing, popular, and the worse thing? the apple of sunghoon’s eyes. he truly could never see a flaw within her, not like she had one to begin with.

you on the other hand? not so much. considering yourself average in the looks department, you manage to pass classes but nothing worthy of an academic award or appraisals from those around you. you were timid, your friend only knowing of your playful personality. popularity? you knew it through sunghoon and your mutual friends, though you were never the talk of bathroom gossip.

and you certainly weren’t the apple to sunghoon’s eyes, at least not anymore like when you were kids.

you didn’t lack in the importance of his life, at least you wishfully hoped. however you currently weren’t the focus of it either, no matter how heart broken and live-less you seem to become these past few weeks, seeping worry each of your mutual friends, much like park jongseong who’s search every way to console your raging emotions but falling short no matter how hard he tried.

you know he wishes to say something to put a bandaid over your heart, but words could only do so much. you were still grateful though, his attempt never going unnoticed by you.

you were truly thankful for jay, he was your pillar these days holding you up through this stage in life, caught between the cross road of wanting to ruin your friendship with sunghoon or living with the pain of knowing he would never be yours. you knew as much as the next person, the willingness to swallow the words “i love you” like they were glass of water, only for it to turn in to needles at your throat.

“do you want me to try to bring him here? i know how much it’s bothering you seeing him there and not here.” jay tries ways to stop your heart from breaking everyday, even if it meant putting a wedge on his other friends romantic pursuit for another girl that wasn’t, y/n.

“no, there’s no use anyways, it would be pointless.” you explain, playing with the tips of your fingers in a circular motion. “you’d just be wasting your energy, only to come back empty handed.”

“i could make up and excuse, maybe tell him you’re not feeling good? we could even take you to the nurse office and pretend your sick.” jay was sweet enough to paint a scenario and plant a white lie just for your cause. you shook your head. you didn’t want to get Jay caught up in a lie, no matter how white it may be. you simply knew the outcome, and have to live with it.

“he won’t trust me.”

“yes, he will,he’s your best friend he would always come to you.” jay exclaims trying to persuade you.

“yea?” you scoff recalling memories of just a week ago, when you began to understand that sunghoon’s priorities had change enough to forget about you on an a very important day. “what kind of best friend, forgets their friendship anniversary celebration after months of planning.”

“no call, no text, no nothing.” your fingers thread through your hair in exhaustion from the painful memories of that night. you cried so much that night enough to swim in a river of your tears. “he wanted to finally teach me how to ice skate that day so I waited at the ice rink. At first i thought he was late but then 10 minutes turned into 30 and 30 turned into an hour.”

“I didn’t want to think he bailed on me, because i didn’t believe sunghoon would be capable of forgetting such an important day for the both of us, you know? so you know what i did?”

jay could feel his own rage of emotions as you continue to explain. he didn’t really want to hear the rest of it not because he feels for you, his heart hurts for you, if only it could burn for you instead, maybe then he could ease your pain as he tells you to finish your story.

“i kept waiting for two hours. my thumbs were frozen at that point. even after waiting i fooled myself to think he was still late and would show up that evening to eat. i went to the restaurant we made a reservation at. i had been telling sunghoon about it for quite a while now, he must have been grown tired of me because he reserved it despite how pricey it was. but in the end he never showed.”

“i had dinner alone that night, .” you laughed at your ridiculousness. “how stupid is that right?”

jay shook his head. “it’s not stupid at all.”

you continue, story not even remotely close to finished. “we also made plans to go get ice cream, i probably would have fooled myself to go there too if it hadn’t started raining.” and as if luck had it that night, you hadn’t brought an umbrella either. “i couldn’t believe sunghoon had forgotten, i was worried something had happened. not once did he call or text me back so i walk to his house to make sure he was okay.”

you choke back a sob wanting to escape your lips. “and when i got to his place, i saw him through his window, seating at the kitchen counter with, sana.”

finally you broke down, even in an area full of

students you couldn’t hold back anymore. your heart and brain clacking, one asking to let it all out, the other demanding to hold it back in. the throbbing feelings becoming to much, you heart winning the internal war that going on within. “he should’ve seen the way he was looking at her, jay. he looked so happy and my heart breaks knowing I could never be that kind of happiness for him.”

jay turns you around, his arms enclosing you around his. his hands coursing through your hair, pushing you into the crock his neck as you weep into it, snot and hot tears dampened the white of his shirt. jay didn’t care though.

“i ran home that night in the rain, i got sick the following day. the scab on my knee reminds me of the pain i felt that night.”

he had seen the bruising on your leg after you told him about a fall you had the previous night. jay knew too well of your sickness. he had taken care of you, being the one to bring you medicine and hot homemade soup, draped a cool towel on your forehead for your fever. though he hadn’t known the reason behind you being sick, thinking it had been nothing but a common flu.

jay can only pat your head, tears slowing down their aggression but not showing any sign of stopping only dry heaving being the aggravator. “i hate this so much, jay. i can’t no more. i truly wish i never knew love, why waste my time on something i dont deserve? maybe then i would be happy.”

jay becomes angry, but he doesn’t try to show it on his face, glossing it over with a look of sternness yet concern as he pulls you away so you can stare at his face. “hey, hey, hey, don’t ever say that okay!”

your eyes rim red, you hold his gaze. his hands cupping your cheeks making it impossible to look away if you wanted to, the warmness of his eyes don’t let you go. “don’t ever say you don’t deserve to be loved, the only people who don’t deserve any type of love are criminals and bad people, okay?

he wipes his thumbs on your cheek catching trailing tears. “just because someone isn’t in love with you right now doesn’t mean there won’t be somebody is the future, okay?”

“you are a beautiful, amazing, kind, quirky, shy and a great friend, so many lovable qualities and anyone would be lucky to be in love with you.” jay praising you warms the coldest parts of your heart, melting the ice that had built around it.

you sniffled. “but sunghoon won’t ever be sunghoon.”

jay turns to look at sunghoon, his soft stare hardening just at a glance of his friend for lacking a seventh sense. how could he not see what was right in front of him? he turns back to you, eyes soft once again. “sunghoon is too blind to see what’s in front of him, baby.”

“it just hurts, jay, i want this feeling to be gone.” you clench what anyone would assume is your sweater, though the initials, P.S.H, writing on the tag on the back of your neck says otherwise. “i’ve tried to get rid of it, this dark feeling.”

“i know, baby, i know.” jay can only sigh.

“sunoo said to try dating even if i don’t have an interest in them, so i’ve gone on dates, countless of them.”

“even if i don’t have any feelings for them i try hoping that these feelings for sunghoon would go away. but how can i date someone i don’t even know? let alone if i’m not interested in them? it would be different if i at least knew them, you know? at least i would be comfortable around them. i can’t even think of a second date, one the first one isn’t even finish.”

you sigh for the infinite time this week. it’s like an bad re-occurring habit of yours lately, it wasn’t healthy in the slightest. “I’m just exhausted, tired of giving my time of day to guys who don’t even truly try to get to know me, most of them are just guys trying to get into my pants at the end of the day.”

“sorry, i’m drama dumping on you again, jay you must be so tired of me.” your head wants to hang lose, but his hands prevent you from doing so.

jay shakes his head no. “no, baby, i could never grow tired of you, y/n.”

the smile you flash him genuine, but it doesn’t quite your eyes. “thank you jay, for always being there for me.”

“I’ll always help you, y/n. so let me help you again.”

“what do you mean?” You asked confused.

“date me, y/n.” just as hot tears ascend on your face yet again, they are halted by his words.

at first, jay had caught himself of guard with his own words but as he thinks about it in his head, it only seems to makes more sense.

if there was someone else yearning for your happiness, other than you, was jay. you meant a great deal to him as a friend so he though, if not him than who to help you move on?

“what? jay, are you listening to yourself? you know i like sunghoon.” bewilderment written all over your face.

yes, he knows you didn’t have to explain it to him. “i know you do, but it’s like you said, if you only try with someone you knew you would feel more comfortable right? you could move on.”

you shook your head, it being incapable of wrapping itself around jay’s idea. “jay, you don’t even like me that.”

“i know, it doesn’t mean i can’t learn to.”

your body grows frigid and jay can feel it in the palm of his hands cupping your cheek. you’re in utter disbelief at his words. providing that jay is one of your closest friend, now more than ever, if you hadn’t known him you would assuming the boy was joking with you.

his aura being intimidating and so handsome you’d think he’d be some type of playboy. he was the complete opposite of what he seemed. the definition of looks like he could kill is you, is a cinnamon roll. a very sweet one at that. you’d gain more than one cavity.

aside from sweet, handsome, he was kind, respect, a balance between outgoing and introverted when need be. attentive to every needs, including that of his friends and family, as of lately yours. In the dictionary, under the word perfect and boyfriend, you would be sure to find his name writing in bold letter, PARK JONGSEONG. You were sure of it, but would you be willing to risk this safety net of friendship you have with Jay just for your own benefit, to be able to move on from this unrequited love?

you’re quiet state allows jay to perceive your face longer, dried tears on your face, your mascara smudge at the corner of your eyes. he wipes his fingers over it, wiping it clean to the best of his ability. he doesn’t relent on his words to convince you.

“if it’s any concelation, im doing this for myself too.” your head tilts, in question, unsure of what benefit he could get out of courting you. entertainment? No way, never. jay wasn’t like that, he would never. from what jay has told you, when he dates, he dates to commit.

“i haven’t told you this, you’ve probably heard know i haven’t dated anyone in about a year.” jay explains.

jay was quite popular among school, female and male crowd alike. rumors of jay being single ropes plenty of beautiful people to his feet, but he never paid any mind to any of them even after a year when the rumors of him being single began to spread. “i had a girlfriend, we were together for about three years, we were young but i truly thought she was the one. i even started to consider marriage just fresh out of high school, stupid I know right?” you shake your head no.

jay chuckles recalling his last memories of his last relationship and the scar they left within him. “well I thought I was because after giving her three years of my time, i found her sleeping with my own brother.”

your heart breaks all over again, this time not for sunghoon but for the man in front of you, park jongseong. “they were seeing each other behind my back for a whole year.”

to say you were discombobulated at the revelation would be an understatement. no words could describe just how muddled you felt at the idea of someone cheating on jay. he who was loyal, a kind soul, emotionally available, a good listener, honest, respectful every trait that you could think of that makes a boyfriend the greenest of green flags. if anyone deserved happiness and love it was him.

“what? jay-“ you try to speak, to comfort, console him like he has done with you plenty of time’s but he stops you. he has had plenty of time to mourn relationship that only brought him pain, but he still lives with the scars. maybe it was time for a change, to find someone he could share not only his troubles but also his ideas of love.

“let me finish please.” he pleads, so you let him. “i was angry, i hated them, for doing this to me, for lying, breaking my heart.”

“i hated myself for that matter. i let myself love so hard that i became blind to see the signs that were right in front of me. i hated myself for wasting those three years on her.” as he incriminates himself you want to stop him becoming angry at his words, yet respecting his wishes. your eyes never lose contact with his, not even for a second. “but no matter how much i think back to it i would still do it all over again because i learned that i’m worthy of love and that i deserve the purest form of it. i simply hadn’t found the perfect person who could possibly understand me, til i found you.”

“i have a lot of love to give, just like you, baby, so give me yours and i’ll give you mine. and then maybe we can learn to love each other and heal from these scars we have together.”

these revelations show you a jay you had never known. he was always the life of the party a smile gracing his intricate details, carrying himself with confidence and living life gracefully.

your heart hurts him, like his hurts for you.

“jay-“ your throat is hoarse and you lick your lips dry lips wet to talk. “i just don’t want you to feel like i’m pressuring you into this. i know I’m hurting now but it’s not enough for me to say yes to force you into a relationship that may come from nothing, you’d waste your time trying to learn to love me, what if our feelings never change?”

“then at least we can say we tried.” he responds. “you’re not pressuring me. and you’re never a waste of time to me, y/n, you never are.” he gives you a tight smile on his.

jay knew the possibility of nothing coming out of them dating, he also understood of the risk of something actually coming out of it- what if only one of them truly falls in love, what if they both fell in love with each other other but weren’t each others happy ending in the long run? so many possibilities were endless. who were they not to try though? weren’t you both already suffering from heart break? what’s one more?

“i know something could possibly not come out of it, or something possibly could, many possibilities. i’m willing to try, y/n, the question is are you?”

your line of thought is intent of not risking a friendship. a relationship formed of similar characteristics of failed love, one of disloyalty, another of unrequited love, could this one also end in failure?

sharing heart break caused by important people in their lives, jay and you, found solace and support from each other. truly who were you to say no? why not try to mend two heart that ache to be loved similarly. both understanding of the agony of those who were too blind to see what was right in front of them, two people full of love and ready to serve it on a silver platter only to be taken for granted.

you weren’t sure of the future, could jay be your happy ending? could you be his? you’d never know unless you tried.

“okay.” you agreed, not yielding to your brain or your heart, instead you choose to listen to the man in front of you who’s trusting you with his own.

“yea?” he asks for confirmation, a feeling of liberation already settling in. jay knew he deserved love, now he just had to show you deserved it too.

“yes, let’s try together.” you reassure him. not believing you were worthy of love, you still don’t but you would gladly learn from him and in return you would give him the love he seeks.

“yes, let’s try together.”

jay smiles. it’s soft on his features, reassuring that from now on, his purpose was to make you happy and you him.

he leads your turned body forward, showering your body in his comfort without much effort. his arms drape just tight enough to support your body closely, like you could let go any moment, take back your word and he would let you. silence lingers around you only the chattering of students around the campus and the full spring breeze kissing the dampness of your face.

you break the quietude. the silence overbearing your already intrusive thoughts. Coming back in full circle rubbing your back much like before, this time not of sadness but of hope to possibly seeing a happy you in the near future. jay listens to your concerns keenly, precisely as the beginning of it all, the day you officially opened to anyone aside from your girl-friends about sunghoon and the undying love you feel for him.

“i’m scared, jay. what if I waver as soon as I see him?” you stay attached together.

he knew it would be tough, your situations being different from his. jay’s ex-girlfriend at a different side of town while sunghoon roams the same halls as you, the both of you sharing the same mutual friends, you house filled with memories with him.

your love for sunghoon is fresh. it runs deeps into your heart, like a fresh wound that if submerged under water it stings. even after it resurface, the feelings lingers and prolongs til it turns into a scab during it’s absence. only for it to peel off at his appearance, the stinging feeling being relived all over again til it finally heals after a long time.

jay back tracks on his words, before he could spill them. eyes hardening at the movement he follows. his heart dropping, he doesn’t let it deter him. his fingers stroke soft trails down your soft strands.

“don’t worry, i got you.” he says, putting you at ease with his words.

he is relieved your back is turned. the very man that haunts every fiber of your body by his mere presence is getting up from the very table he had perched himself for the past hour, chatting away with the crowd among it, attentively engaging with the girl, you have become envious off, itching to be in her spot next to sunghoon.

sunghoon makes his way to your direction. jay avoids making any eye contact by pulling away from you taking your face in his hands again. your cheeks and eyes puffed out from your crying, red tainting the rounded corners of your face.

sunghoon greets passers-by who recognize him drawing nearer to your table causing jay heart to quicken at an ungodly rate, they meet eyes and sunghoon waves. heart torn between his actions and his words.

he’s told you he’s got you, he won’t be letting you down. “do you trust me?”

trust, faith, reliance words you could associate with jay. you’d trust him with your life and that was a given. never challenging you to question his choices and action, today wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

it only takes a nod for jay to decide.

his dark eyes cast downward starting at your eyes, to the tip your nose and ending at your lips. they are pouty, the balm you glossed over previously nowhere in sight. jay can’t help but imagine his lips on yours. the thought of intimacy by placing a kiss on them thrills him, not having the pleasure to feel the lips of another in so long after his last breakup. just the idea feels foreign to him, nonetheless nervousness courses the blue of his veins.

he knew there would be no turning back after this. lines would be crossed, and risks will be taken. in spite of his racing thoughts and his palpating heart, he finds himself leaning forward, eyes fluttering close, to kiss you.

the breaths you had taken before stolen by his sudden action. his warm and soft lips tender on your own, lips unmoving. you didn’t pull away, and hyper aware of the closeness of his face, you practically count the short lashes of his eyes.

withdrawing himself away from you, his eyes open to look into yours that were staring right back at him. left speechless, you were unaware of the figure standing not even 3 steps away.

it wasn’t long til you look away bashfully, looking anywhere but jay. only then noticing sunghoon, who had witness the kiss that had just been exchange by the both of you. your heart that was previously unsettling, thumping against your ears and chest because of jay, now replaced by a sinking feeling to your stomach at the presence of sunghoon.

his silence was louder than any words given that moment.

sunghoon eyes dances between the both you. a perplexing feeling wrapping around his throat and choking him of his words.

to many questions plague the tip of his tongue.

when did you become so close with jay? were you both dating now? why didn’t he know? why didn’t you ever tell him? have you been blowing him off because of jay this whole time? if he grew angry at the thought, he didn’t show it. he looks directly at you noticing your quiet demeanor.

“hey, hoon.” the sound of jay’s voice reaching his ears pulls him from he’s endless thought’s, noticing just how quiet he was since he planted himself in front of the table you and jay occupied together.

“hey, uh” sunghoon didn’t even know what to say, so he reframes from saying anything only asking the obvious questions he should be asking. “so, the two of you?”

“yea.” jay glances at you, eyes still glued on sunghoon figure. he turns back to sunghoon, hiding his true feelings behind a plastic shy smile. “we are together.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” he looks at you for an answer, but you remain voiceless. jay understands the difficulty you are in. it’s as if you were in the spotlight of a stage and someone just threw cold water on you.

jay take’s it upon himself to answer sunghoon instead. “i guess can say today is day one.”

“oh, congratulations.” is the only thing sunghoon can think to say, his head still trapped in limbo trying to make sense of everything. he pushes it to the back of his head, he’s two best friend dating, he should be happy for them, he was.

sunghoon beams a smile at you both. “really guys, i’m happy for you, congrats.”

those words were the last words to your heart into a million pieces. but you were thankful for them. allowing you to close the chapter that was park sunghoon, and opening a brand new one with park jongseong.

jay who’s hand grasps your own now, gives it a small squeeze, telling you he was by your. giving you the courage you desperately needed.

you lean into jay, grabbing his hand to pull his arm flushed against your front one hand still entwined with his, you fake it with a smile. “thank you, hoonie, i really needed to hear you say that.”

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eponymous-rose · 1 year

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So I've been playing Baldur's Gate 3 like everyone else and had An Incredibly Wild Combat Experience just now...

(spoilers under the cut for an early-game fight; if you don't care about the game, this is 100% parse-able as a d&d fight)

So there I am with my character Amisra (elf fighter), and a party consisting of Karlach (tiefling barbarian), Astarion (elf/vampire-spawn rogue) and Gale (human wizard). We venture into the lair of a hag to try to rescue this woman she's kidnapped and I'm getting a little blithe when it comes to spell slots and short rests - everyone's starting to look pretty rough, and then there's a long stretch of having to navigate carefully around traps, mostly via jumps that I actually remember to have Feather Fall on this time. "No problem," I think like every D&D player before me, "I'll simply take a long rest before the boss battle." And the game, in its DM-ish wisdom, says, "No, you can't long rest in the lair of an actively hostile enemy, what were you thinking???" and that's how I get into a fight that's way, way over my head.

I'm giving it my best shot, dealing with illusory hag-enemies and complicated terrain, but it's clear this is going to be my first total-party-kill of the game. Several characters have been knocked down and brought back up, and we've been in enough of a bad state that all of our healing potions are gone (leading me to the realization that you can craft in battle, which then leads to all of the crafted potions also being consumed).

The stage is set for disaster: the hag still has half her health (60-something points), and my whole party is out of all spell slots and fancy tricks. Astarion and Karlach are knocked unconscious on the other side of the room via Ray of Sickness, making death saves. Gale and Amisra are in some sort of necrotic zone that's dealing damage every round.

The immediate turn order: Gale, Hag, Amisra. Gale has 1 HP and will be unconscious from the necrotic damage after his turn. Amisra has a whopping 7 HP but is being held in the damage-over-time area by a Hold Person spell she cannot seem to save against. The hag has a perfect shot on everyone in the room.

So I'm sitting there like "well, it was a fun run while it lasted" and trying to remember when I saved last. At this point, I figure I might as well go for a little roleplay flair and try to think of what Gale would do for this, his final turn. Well, he'd look to magic. But, uh, sorry, those cantrips aren't going to deal 60 points of damage and get you out of your current predicament. Too bad.

Hang on. I've picked up so many scrolls, surely there's something there that might be a fun finish. Scroll of Flying? Nah, then I'll just die in midair. Scroll of Ray of Enfeeblement? Yeah, I'm sure she'll be real sad that her melee attacks do marginally less damage as she annihilates us with ranged attacks anyway. Scroll of Feign Death? Who's ever even used that spell successfully in a video game? What would you even--

Wait. Scroll of Feign Death. Resistance to all damage types except psychic, puts the target in a comatose state. Gale's going to be unconscious next round, but Amisra still has 7 HP...

So Gale, very dramatically, pulls out this scroll and casts the spell on Amisra, who Feigns Death very convincingly considering she's frozen on the spot and slowly taking damage. And Gale takes the last burst of damage himself and falls unconscious.

The hag absolutely doesn't stop there and keeps hitting Karlach, Astarion, and Gale until they're dead... but she never targets Amisra. She thinks she's dead. She actually thinks she's dead! And she might be right, as Amisra takes 2 HP and 1 HP of damage each turn, frozen in place...

And the hag just... stops. Everyone is dead, right? Yup, four bodies on the ground. Time to go and do whatever it is hags do for fun. She leaves the battlefield.

And Amisra finally saves against the damage-over-time with One. Frickin'. Hit. Point. Remaining.

I as the player have about 1 HP remaining myself as I fumble frantically to move Amisra out of the dangerous area and manage to remember how to use a mouse in time to cast a Scroll of Revivify on Gale. Two of us, each stumbling around at 1 HP, no other healing available, no idea where the hag is in her lair, the rest of our (very dead) party on the other side of the giant room, and a huge path of traps and treacherous drops to get back to the surface. What can we do but press on, deeper into the lair?

In the next room, which I have never seen before, I am shaking. If there's a trap, we're probably done. I'm too nervous to try looting anything in the room - what if she comes back? And then I see a sparkly fairy circle of mushrooms, looking an awful lot like an exit. No way. NO WAY.

I click that fairy circle so many times and just hold my breath as the two remaining party members stumble to the exit... and promptly appear back in the (slightly less dangerous) bog. The bog where, in its infinite DM-ly kindness, the game finally allows us to make camp, where I can resurrect Karlach and Astarion in peace.

And that's how we avoided a Total Party Kill with the most situational spell scroll use imaginable!

Edit: Also, a tip for when I did go back to fight the hag - a 2nd-level Magic Missile auto-hits up to 4 targets, so if you position Gale toward the middle of the room you can take down all 4 illusory hag-clones in one turn. Ahh, it was nice to have spell slots again.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #eponymous gaming tag

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themultifandomgal · 5 months

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From 2010- Doctors Orders

2013

Part 27

Trigger warning- talks about anxiety and feeling low. Reader is put on antidepressants

“So what the doctor say?” Harry asks as I place my bag down on the island in our kitchen. Cookie runs over to me and I pick her up cuddling her

“I’ve been put on Sertraline, it’s an antidepressant. He said I might have a few side effects from it like feeling sick so I’ve also been given antisickness tablets as well” I sigh walking into the living room. Since loosing Alex I’ve felt extremely low, and panicky whenever I’m in a car. Louis rang an ambulance a few days ago because I had a huge panic attack “he also suggested I talk to someone about what happened”

“Like a therapist?” Harry asks sitting next to me

“Yeah” I nod my head and sit down with Cookie on my lap “I’m dreading telling management”

“It’s nothing to do with them. It’s your business and no one else’s” Louis says

“It’ll be bad publicity if it comes out that a one direction singer has panic attacks. What if I end up having one on stage?” I asks nervously

“Then we will be all there to help” Louis replies

“Yeah. We can get you off stage and help you. Everything’s going to be alright. Come’ere” Harry pulls me into his arms and hugs me

“How about we watch a film? I bought popcorn yesterday”

“What kind?” I ask lifting my head up a little

“Sweet and salty” I give Louis a small smile and let him walk into the kitchen to make the popcorn.

“Where is she?” I hear Zayn ask walking through the hallway of my shared place with Louis and Harry

“In bed. The antisickness hasn’t helped all that much” Louis responds. There’s a knock on the door and in walks my best friends

“Hey how do you feel?” Liam asks

“Like shit. Got a headache, tired and feel so sick it’s unbelievable. Not eaten in 2 days”

“How long will the side effects last for?” Niall asks. I give him a little shrug

“Between a week and 3 weeks”

“Do you think you’ll be ok to come to the Brit awards?”

“I hope so” I reply to Zayn. The front door opened then shuts. Cookie then runs into my room and jumps onto the bed and snuggles into me. Smiling I stroke her fur “did you have a good walk with Harry?” Not expecting a response off my dog I look up to the door where Harry stands

“She was a good girl like always. Although Mr Henderson is missing you” Harry mentions the elderly man we see most days on our walk. I giggle a little looking back at cookie “he asked me to give you these get well soon cupcakes” Harry places some cakes on my bedside table

“Ooo got an admire YN?” Liam wiggles his eyebrows making me laugh more

“I might have to start taking Cookie out if it gets me cupcakes” Niall says sitting on the end of my bed

“So what’s the plan for today?” Liam asks also sitting on my bed. Harry picks up my remote control for my TV and turns it on

“What are you doing?” I ask frowning

“Having a movie day what do you think?” Louis replies

“We won’t all fit on the bed” I say

“M’ gonna get the beanbags”

2 days until the Brit awards and I still feel ill, thankfully not as bad as when I started on Sertraline. Now I’m just exhausted no matter how much I sleep and my head feels like a hammer is constantly being hit inside my skull. My nausea has mostly gone except if I take my tablet before food. I’m currently in my dress fitting for the award show. It’s a strapless white dress with blue flower pints on it which will be pared with nude heals

“What do you think?” Charlotte my stylist says

“I love it thank you so much Char”

“Your very welcome”

“Knock knock” I hear my dad say before opening my bedroom door with his hand over his eyes

“I’m dressed it’s fine” he takes his hand away from his eyes and looks at me in a state of shock “what? Don’t you like it?”

“That’s not it. It’s just you look so much like your mum. She’d be so proud of you”

“Thanks dad”

“You feel up to the awards show, because if not the boys will understand”

“No I’m fine don’t worry”

“I do worry, I’m your dad that’s my job”

“The doctors gave me some new antisickness tablets. They’re stronger and they’ve been working. I’ll just take some paracetamol and Emma said she will come collect me after the awards show and bring me home while the boys go out”

“As long as your sure. Your health is more important than any award”

“I know. Promise I’m ok”

#6th one direction member #one direction x reader #sixth one direction member #one direction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles

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merakiui · 4 years

Text

Frostbite

yandere!childe x (gender neutral) reader art credit - GNSN_FA on twt cw: yandere, blood, minor gore (lacerations), unhealthy behaviors/relationship, mentions of death/hypothermia, fighting

It’s borderline animalistic, the way you cling to warmth and life like a starved, neglected hound. Your fingers stiffen in a vain attempt to flex—to successfully grasp your sword like a true warrior. The furs that were once draped over your body are ragged, torn to shreds from a dangerous battle between the elements and him. There’s no mistaking the excitement that lights his every nerve like bulbs hanging from a Christmas tree, coated in the maddening swell of potent bloodlust. If surrender was an option, you would have done it long ago.

Even then, you’re certain he wouldn’t give you such a benevolent chance no matter how hard you were to beg and plead.

Your breath materializes like a phantom in front of your face, a cruel reminder that you’re still breathing in a battered body. Your fingernails are chipped, blood running down the tips from an icy struggle, but you refuse to succumb to the cold. Instead, you allow yourself to be swept up in his electrified stare.

“What’s the matter, comrade?” There’s a wry smile pulling his chapped lips apart, showcasing flawless teeth aligned in a perfect face. Despite the brutal wear of this current fight, he’s still handsome. And that makes you sick. “I thought you said you’ve gotten stronger. If I wanted a real battle, I would’ve challenged one of my subordinates and that’s nowhere near as fun as this!”

Keeled over in the snow, your lungs burning with each rattled inhale, you struggle to meet his eyes. The deathly chill of the Snezhnayan climate claws at your exhausted form like the porcelain fingers of a skeleton. You might as well surrender to the freezing temperatures. After all, the frostbite is far kinder than the fighting machine looming over you, the toe of his boot nudging your trembling self.

“I... I am strong,” you manage to say before the dangerous wind pierces your throat like a dagger. Like the icicle Childe’s wielding, a happily convenient reaction between Hydro and Cryo elements. You cough and crimson paints the snow. “Strong. I’m strong.”

“Then get up.” There isn’t any warmth in his tone. Cold like ice and devoid of his former playfulness. Under all of that nonchalance, a fierce, chiseled warrior lies in comfortable wait. When his eyes trace your hunched form and he spots the blood that dribbles past your lips, practically freezing as soon as it makes contact with the frigid air, those dull hues widen. Surely he’s hit a weak spot, a vital organ or something close to a fatal blow. He wonders for a brief moment if you’re afraid of death. “You’ll freeze if you don’t move.”

A flash catches your attention and then there is the flow of suffocating water. Sharpened blades of ice surround you on all sides, nearly scraping your arms, so you force yourself onto unsteady legs. Internally, you’re searching for a way out—for a way to give up before you bite off more than you can chew. This sparring match wasn’t your request, but you had been a fool to accept, having been so certain of your strength and wit. But you aren’t accustomed to Snezhnaya, whereas Childe has spent years of his life here: training, learning, and fighting until he was worthy of the Tsaritsa’s praise.

With sloppy movements, you cut through the ice as if it’s butter, eternally grateful for the sharpness of your trusty sword. You can’t tell when this fight will end, but you hope an opening with present itself. As soon as it does, you’re running as far as your frozen legs will take you. Like a feral beast who fights desperately against the unfair hands of the Grim Reaper, you stumble forwards, slashing blindly at your target. He’s thoroughly amused with your struggle, having seen this sort of desperation many times before on the battlefield.

It’s a depressing thing, knowing you’ll be destined for failure and yet you still push onwards. As if that will turn the tide of this battle in your favor. Childe almost admires your persistence, but it isn’t all that special. He’s seen it all before but not quite in the way you portray it. Your despair is far more delectable than that of any low-ranking Fatui soldier. Childe could bask in this for eternity and he’d never grow bored. To have you by his side as his punching bag—it excites him just a little too much.

Naturally, the more he spars with you, the more he’ll grow accustomed to your attack and defense patterns. A strategy is only worthwhile if it rakes in victory. No matter the cost. No matter how many fall and grovel, begging for their pitiful lives. In a way, his moral compass is rather skewed. He supposes that makes him a bad person, but he’s never been one for the hero role.

Childe taps your shoulder and you whirl, slicing upwards with your sword. The blade cuts the air, not the torso of the man who jumps back with such deadly precision. The expression he’s wearing haunts you: a wicked smile, pupils blown wide with the thrill of life and death, and a blooming bruise from where you managed to hit him in your earlier scuffle. In any form, he looks good, be it blue and purple, red and pale, or even frozen stiff by the very ice that reacts to his Hydro abilities. You can’t stand your weak heart, as you’re well aware of the face he’ll bear tomorrow. Friendly and disarming, a total opposite to the grinning madman twirling water-turned-ice blades like they’re circus batons.

Like always, you’ll return his kindness because you’re a fool. Because you like the soft, wholesome Childe that cares lovingly for his family—the side he’s displayed in rare instances that glimmer beyond the gilded portrait of a battle-hardened soldier.

You fall hard on your back, landing in the thick snow with a wheeze. There is no warmth on the battlefield. Only pain, suffering, and the certainty of death. You push yourself to get up, but your muscles won’t move, too heavy and sore. You know you’re strong—you’ve faced many opponents before and you’ve lived to boast of your successes. You can beat Childe. You have to if you intend to avoid fights with him in the future.

“Well, this is upsetting.” He’s frowning now, idly tapping the crystalized water while he circles you like a sharp-toothed predator. “Didn’t expect this to end so quickly.”

Liar. You already know I can’t beat you, you want to say, but the words escape you. Not yet, anyways.

A sneer splits your dry lips and blood trickles down your chin like a woeful river. You don’t need a mirror to witness the damage.

“Teucer won’t like this,” you say, staring up at Childe with dead eyes, hoping to prod at his weak spots. If the mention of his brother affects him, Childe doesn’t let it show.

“He doesn’t have to know,” he retorts, brushing aside such a possibility with ease.

Right. Because you expect me to put myself back together like a toy. Of course, almighty Childe, the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya.

“Well.” You pause to exhale and pain shoots through your side. Through your bleary gaze, you can see a deep laceration. Blood stains what’s left of your attire, and you move your rigid hands over the wound to prevent anymore blood loss. “Congrats. You won.”

“You’re giving up?” Bewilderment flashes across his face for an instant before it melts away into an emotion you can’t place. Anger? Sadness? Is he unhappy with this win?

“What does it look like? I can’t possibly fight with these injuries.”

It hurts to speak and you wish he would just stop. If he could accept the outcome of this battle, this wouldn’t be such a problem. You’d be able to patch and heal yourself up before your condition gets any worse. With the chill seeping into your open cut, harshly kissing slick, wet blood, you doubt you’ll make it inside before passing out. Vaguely, you recall the unfamiliar stages of hypothermia. At worst, if you stay out in this fatal weather, pinned like an entomologist’s butterfly under Childe’s monstrous gaze, you’ll freeze to death. At best, you’ll escape, build a fire, and warm up to the best of your ability. Weighing your options, you’d rather lose a finger or a toe as opposed to your life.

“You can fight.” His blade is at your throat, the pointed tip niggling into your jugular. It’s more of a threat than a warning, a means to spur you into action. “You’ll never get stronger if you’re always running away, comrade.”

Your life has some value; Childe just can’t see that. In his eyes, a fight should be seen through to the very end, even if it’s marred in death and destruction. Yet here you are, choosing to abandon your pride. That must have some strength in itself, right? You hate his face, his childish nature, and the fact that his everything is making you reconsider. You’re doomed to fail if you continue to push your frostbitten body past its natural limits.

“I...” The blade slices along your throat, a mere surface wound. You can’t feel the sting or the sticky blood that spills out like flowing tears, having become as numb as a fish-eyed animal near extinction. “Childe—“

You don’t want to hurt him and he knows this. It twists his insides like a knife in flesh, turning and turning until organs pop and leak into soupy conflict. The blade leaves your throat and another harsh wind blows between the two of you, glacial and prickling. He distances himself, tracking your form in case you happen to move. You’ve stopped shivering at this point, lying flat on your back and staring up at the dark sky. Snowflakes cling to your lashes like the hands of death, pulling you closer to an invisible grave.

“You can fight.” Is that desperation in his voice? You almost laugh at the idea. He’s not a desperate man; he doesn’t need to be when he has it all. “Get up, comrade.”

“I think...I’ll stay here,” you whisper, your heartbeat irregularly slow. You’ve never counted the beats before, but now it makes for a fun distraction. “Good job, Childe. You’ve definitely...”

Gotten stronger.

You possess strength, just not the type Childe wants to experience firsthand. He has no use for a lonely, unseeing corpse. And when your eyelids flutter, closing upon a face that reflects frozen death, he releases a sigh. His blade falls at once, landing in the snow with a thump, and he bends down to gather your fallen frame in his arms. Somehow, whenever he spars with you—whenever he’s within touching distance—he feels alive. As if you’ve breathed meaning into his frostbitten soul, warming the cold beast that lurks and pounces at the sight and smell of fresh bloodshed.

If he’s learned anything, it’s that there’s always going to be room for improvement. You just need to train more, and he’d be over the moon to fight you until it’s your blade slicing through his skin. In the meantime, though, he’ll have to kiss color and life back into your monochrome world of death and despair.

As the greatest toy salesman in all of Snezhnaya, it’s only fair if he repairs the damages done to his favorite toy. Break, repair, and repeat. A cycle befitting a messy relationship and an even messier slew of choices. Rinse and repeat, like waves licking up a carcass bound to the shore.

Come morning, you’ll be shiny and new, ready to sit by his side for another leisurely ice-fishing outing. Childe isn’t known as the greatest toy salesman for nothing, and you’re just barely scraping by with each battle scar and bandage—courtesy of such an illustrious, experimental toy salesman.

#genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact tartaglia #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact ajax #yandere genshin impact ajax #ajax x reader #yandere ajax x reader

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corpsedaydream · 4 years

Text

paint wars part 2

OKAY HERE IT IS! PART TWO TO PAINT WARS

if u haven’t read part one, i’ll link it right here

word count: 3k (yikes it’s a long one)

_______________________________

paint wars part 2

Things had been rough lately.

Real fucking rough.

You missed Corpse so much. You hadn’t spoken to each other since that fight at his apartment and that was fifty-four days ago now, almost two thirds of a season you’d been without him.

“I miss you.” You spoke aloud into the emptiness of your apartment, noting that the time on your phone now said 12:01am. It was officially now day fifty-five without speaking to him.

You swiped away all your notifications on your lock screen, ignoring everything and everyone that was trying to reach you right now so you could look at the person who was ignoring you. You wanted to look at the photo that was still your wallpaper. That first photo you’d ever taken together.

You went to change it on day thirty-eight of not speaking. On night thirty-seven of not speaking you’d gone out with your friends, they’d finally convinced you after a whole month of trying and you got absolutely wasted. So of course you’d called Corpse. But he didn’t answer, not any of the fifteen times you’d called. So that next morning, when you woke up hungover and saw that same lock screen photo and not one response from him, you told yourself you were going to change it. You tried to tell yourself you were angry, but it was just a coping mechanism to ignore the hurt that had been tunnelling through your heart since being without him. You spent an hour scouring tumblr and twitter for some aesthetically pleasing lock screen, but you didn’t save a single one. Nothing could compare to that photo of you and Corpse.

You then started to wonder if he’d listened to any of the voicemails you’d left the night before. You couldn’t remember them exactly, but you knew you definitely left four of them and how badly you wanted to know if the curiosity became too much to bear and he’d listened to them.

And he had.

On night thirty-seven, while you were out drinking, Corpse was in a deep sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping a whole lot lately, so finally, he’d crashed hard that night and slept through the calls you’d made to him. But even though he wasn’t aware of the calls in his sleeping state, you were still present in his dreamland. Every adventure his brain took him on was with you, maybe it was something that kept him asleep, the fact that you were right there in this fantasy. You were talking to him again, he could see your smile, hear your laugh, reach out and grab your hand, he could kiss you again. It was happiness. But then he woke up and he went to reach out for you in his bed, still caught up in the false wonder his dreams had provided him, only to find it was just him and reality slapped him fully awake. You weren’t there with him. You hadn’t been for a number of weeks. He missed you.

On day thirty-eight, when he spotted the missed calls from you on his phone, he cursed himself for being asleep and missing it. But would he had answered had he been awake? He wasn’t sure. So instead, he heard you speak to him for the first time in so long, even if it was through a voicemail you had left in the space of him not answering your calls.

“Oh, fuck- oh my god.”

That was it. That was the first voicemail, there was a lot of background noise but he had heard you so clearly. In your drunken state, you didn’t know what to say, so that’s what you had left with him, until you called back and left another.

"Hi.” You started it simple. He had the phone clutched so tightly in his hand, the device pressed so firmly against his ear, he didn’t want to miss a word. “I- I don’know what to say.” He noticed the slight slur to your words then, you were drunk when you had called. “I’m’a just go.”

You hung up again, but alas, there was another.

“Can I just ask... are you ignoring me?” Your voice was so meek, his chest hurt at the sound of it. He almost went to say no, but this was a one sided conversation, he’d missed the opportunity. “I miss you.” You hung up again, and he had to stop himself from replaying it over and over again to hear you say that you missed him.

But there was one last voice mail.

“I should stop calling, huh?” You sighed and he could picture you with a sad pout, your eyes all droopy with a mix emotion and alcohol. “But, I just want’a talk to you.” You confessed, then he heard another voice call your name in the background before they spoke to you and he listened. “(Y/N)! Here you are, what are you doing? That guys wondering where you are, he’s fucking hot-”

Corpse hung up then, he didn’t want to hear anymore. Jealousy was surging through him as the unwanted images of you with someone else plagued his mind and he threw his phone across his room. Wishing he hadn’t of started listening to those fucking voicemails.

What he didn’t know, though, is how the rest of that last voicemail went.

“I really don’t care.” You’d told your friend at the mention of the guy. Yeah, he was attractive and he was buying you drinks, but you wanted no one except Corpse. “Give me a sec.” You’d told your friend before walking away again, bringing your phone back to your ear to talk to the only person you wanted to talk to right now, even if he wasn’t on the other end of that call. “I hope you didn’t hear that, but if you did, don’t worry it. I’m g’na go home now.” You sighed and looked up at the night sky, there was no shooting star, or really any stars at all because of the light pollution from where you currently were, but you were still wishing that by some magic happenstance, Corpse would pick up his phone and speak to you again. “I wish I was going to yours.”

On day thirty-nine you cried so hard. You thought you had made it past this violently sobbing stage, this was exact state you’d cried yourself to sleep to each night for the first few weeks. Your heart was in so much pain, it was torn apart and you swore only one person had the power to stitch it back together, but he wasn’t there. You hadn’t heard a single thing from him. Were you two still together? Had you broken up? You weren’t even sure. But on day thirty-nine you cried that hard again because Corpse hadn’t responded at all to your calls or voicemails, so you convinced yourself he truly wanted nothing to do with you.

You’d been avoiding searching his name on social media, knowing it would send you into a spiral and you’d overthink every little thing but on day forty-two you’d noticed on twitter that he was playing games live. He wasn’t live himself, but you watched someone’s stream just to hear him again. You cried again doing this, because he was being exceptionally quiet, he wasn’t his normal self, he barely laughed once.

You wished you hadn’t clicked on it. The guilt you felt was already immense, but hearing him so not like himself made you feel even worse for causing all of this. You stopped watching, you couldn’t bear it. You knew you were to blame for all of this, you pushed him too far, you couldn’t believe how stupidly you had acted, you knew better and you did it anyway. The self attacking thoughts kept swirling your mind until you gave yourself a headache.

On day fifty-six of still not talking to each other, you ventured out to the beach with just your best friend. She’d been there for you a lot lately, she also felt bad about that night, but you tried to assured her it was your own fault. She didn’t know Corpse like you did, she didn’t know him at all, that’s why you felt to blame for not stopping the idea before it was too late.

“You should put sunscreen on.” Your best friend told you. You were laying on your towel in the direct sun, enjoying the warmth blasting into your skin, you hadn’t been to the beach in such a long time.

“Yeah.” You answered her, but you knew you weren’t going to. Another time, you would have, you knew the familiar sting of sunburn well and you normally put it on to look after your skin, but you hadn’t really been taking care of yourself too well lately, you just didn’t care enough.

On night fifty-six, you stood in front of your bathroom mirror looking over your body. You’d spent a lot longer at the beach than you realised and now you were burnt so badly and as red as a tomato. “Fuck.” You said out loud, turning and looking over your shoulder to inspect your back, it was just as red. You should’ve worn sunscreen. You left your bathroom to go find your aloe vera plant, only to find that it was dead. “Fuck!” You repeated, the one hope you had to help heal your skin even slightly quickly vanishing. “Oh, fuck. What am I going to do?”

That’s how you found yourself heading towards a 24 hour store to purchase whatever aloe vera cream or gel you could find, you knew it wouldn’t be as good as the plant itself, but you needed something. It was late and you were anxious as you neared the shop, you knew about this place from Corpse, he would often go there at odd hours to get whatever he needed. It was close to his place and you hadn’t driven around this area since that disaster of a night.

You squinted your eyes as you walked in and the harsh fluorescent lights pierced into your eyes after walking in from the night time. You were walking quickly and you told yourself it was because you were embarrassed about your skin being so burnt and you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, but it was really because you were so anxious over the thought of who you could potentially run into in this shop. Your swift steps brought you to the skin care isle and you let your eyes scan the shelves for the aloe vera you so desperately sought out.

“(Y/N)?”

You froze completely and you swore you even felt your heart stop beating. Hearing his voice speak your name again felt like lighting had struck right through you. This couldn’t be real, this had to be your imagination playing some sort of sick joke on you. Slowly, you turned towards the direction his voice had come from and sure enough, there he was. Dressed in all black, a beanie on his head and a mask over the bottom half of his face, your eyes locked with his. There was a pull in your chest, your heart had heard him, too and it wanted so badly to be with him, to be healed by him. You had thought up this scenario a million times over these past fifty-six days, of what would happen had you and him had a run in like this and in every single one you had so much to say, but right now, you were speechless.

Before you had a chance to even try to say anything if you managed to stop being stuck in silence, Corpse spoke again.

“Fucking hell,” He neared you and you sucked in a quick breath at his sudden movement. “Look how burnt you are.” You were wearing tights and an oversized hoodie, so your entire body was covered, but your face was just as burnt and clearly he had noticed.

This was another aspect that didn’t fit into your scenarios you’d thought up about this moment. You’d imagined you would’ve look amazing. But instead of looking like some beautiful mermaid, you were the same colour as Ariel’s hair from The Little Mermaid. “I know, don’t look at me.” You huffed and dropped your head down, letting your beach waved hair fall around your face.

“You didn’t wear sunscreen?”

“Obviously not.”

“That was silly.”

“I know.”

“Are you sore?”

“Yeah.” It felt so natural to have this back and forth with him. It was brief, but it was enough for your heart to kick back into gear and speed up.

He stayed silent for a prolonged moment so you looked back to his face and his eyes were on your face but it was his turn to glance away then and you took the opportunity to really soak in his side profile. You’d even missed just being able to look at him.

“Why are you here?” He asked you.

“I need aloe vera and I knew this place would be open.”

“You’re not using your plant?” Butterflies fluttered inside of you that he remembered a simple mundane fact that you preferred the healing touch of the actual plant for sunburn as opposed to what was bought at a store in a bottle.

“It died.”

Corpse suddenly looked back to you and much to your surprise, he laughed.

“Why are you laughing?!”

“How do you kill a succulent?”

“You know I’m not good at gardening and shit like that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d be able to kill a succulent.” He laughed harder and you started to smile, he was teasing you but it felt so right. And hearing his laughter filled you with a warmth you’d been missing.

“Shut up.” You told him, but you were beginning to laugh too. “It’s hard to keep plants alive.”

“(Y/N), succulents are pretty much impossible to kill.”

“Okay, I get it, I didn’t purposely murder my aloe vera plant.”

“Oh, baby.” The pet name slipped so easily from his lips but it caught you both off guard, so the both of you stopped laughing and your postures stiffened.

Briefly, your eyes met but each of you darted your vision elsewhere. However, neither of you made no effort to move away from one another.

“Sorry.” Corpse said softly.

“It’s okay.” And it was, so okay. You wanted to tell him that hearing him call you baby was all you’d been wanting to hear again over these almost fifty-seven days without him. “I should really get this aloe vera gel on me, though.” You really didn’t want to leave him, but you couldn’t stand in this store forever.

“Are you sunburnt all over?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You sighed

And just as instinctively as the pet name had slipped out, his hands started to move towards the sleeve of your jumper. But he stopped himself when you flinched slightly and he quickly realised what he was doing. “Sorry, can I see?”

“I mean, you can, but I don’t want you to do it because it does really fucking hurt. That’s why I jumped, not because I don’t want you to touch me.” You answered him quickly. “I do want you to touch me- wait, I mean, no.” If your face wasn’t already red from the sunburn, it would have become red then from the blush you could feel forming. And if your skin wasn’t in pain you would have facepalmed yourself. “Sorry.” You apologised then.

“It’s okay.”

Shaking your head, you began to gently slide the sleeve of your big hoodie up.

“Fuck, (Y/N).” Corpse cursed, concern filling him as your skin was practically glowing from the burn it had copped. “You can’t do that to yourself.”

“I know.”

“How long were you at the beach?”

“All day pretty much.”

“You’re that burnt all over?”

“Yeah, I mean, some spots are worse. I think my back and shoulders are probably the worst. They hurt the most.”

He moved to step around you then, disappearing out of your sight as he was now standing behind you. “Can I?”

“Yeah, just be careful.”

And he made sure to keep his movements cautious, he decided on looking from the top, his hands grabbing the neck on the back of your hoodie to pull it back ever so gently so he could inspect. His eyes widened in a combination horror, worry and sympathy. He’d seen you get sunburnt before, but never to this extent. “Oh my fucking god.” The contrast between where the strap of your togs sat over your shoulder, blocking a sliver of your skin from the sun to keep it its natural colour versus the red that was brought from the burn was insane. “It looks like someone has painted you.”

“I mean, I guess the sun did. Just in a really painful way.”

“You’re not planning on going to the beach anytime soon, right?” Corpse carefully released your hoodie then and stepped in front of you once more. Distress was so present on his face, despite most of it being covered. He was so worried about you in this moment.

“Definitely not. The only thing I’m planning on is not going outside in any sunlight until my skin is healed.”

“Living like me.”

“Guess so.”

“My aloe vera plant is alive.” He stated.

“Wow, you’re really just going to flex that right now? Trying to kick me while I’m down.” You joked back, assuming he was teasing you.

“No, I mean...” He trailed off, his eyes struggling to stay on yours as he continued. “You could come over and use it, I know you like the real stuff better and I could help do your back, or wherever you can’t reach.” He was nervous, but he really didn’t have to be.

You could feel it happening, your heart beginning to heal.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Do you want to?”

“Yeah.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #writing #mine

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echo-of-unknown · 3 years

Text

Fun history lesson on: Modern Art

Gotta use this knowledge somewhere :p

Short: Art's biggest changes made people question the definition of "art" so if you're wondering why there's a snooty air around art, it's the ones who think they got it.

Long boi beneath this bad boi

Art in the early stages is drastically different from our current day not just in the style but in thought. History was recorded in paintings or sculptures to remember certain people like historical figures or religious figures or even events. Hence why there's a lot of Biblical imagery, philosophers, and leaders in all forms of art.

These artists didn't have creative freedom that we have today in terms of what they wanted to make vs what they were told to make. It was a job to be hired by someone noble or royal to be able to depict them or someone else usually. Granted this doesn't apply to all artists back then but it was common.

Overtime, artists began to spread their abilities to making art that means things to them. This especially picked up in the 1800s (19th century) when Impressionism became a hit with artists who didn't want to follow the norm of classical art.

These were more personal to the artist and their lives because it was either the world around them or the world within them. It expresses a lot of emotion that's not always seen in previous art. Not to say that there's not a lot of heart and soul put in previous works, it's more so not about important days or events, it's the opposite: the everyday life.

World Wars changed this mentality however, and this leads into what we know as Modern Art today.

These three images are famous art pieces post 1950s, so past the World Wars.

The war really screwed up with people's mentality, especially in the art world where many thought art was defined by a certain measurement but these guys ask "what is that boundary?". What defines "art", "human", "brush"? It can be a golden toilet, "The Zip" (the line between God and humans, it's literally a line on a canvas), or wearing a sign saying "Wet Paint" in the 60s in public to make people uncomfortable [it was a statement against the racism, Adrien Piper is a lovely individual].

Some of these people have a specific way of thinking of what art is and it leads into the snooty people we assume artists today. But ironically, some of these artists, like the last picture, it's to mock the fact that they are so serious about art.

Art is an expression of a person. You can make as many rules as you want in your work but it's all your work and your ideas.

I feel like the reason why people are snooty about art sometimes is because we have an idea of what art can be. Even though I find anything as art, there's some where I'm like "excuse me that's art?? Nah that can't be". It's a very non-literal subject in the end. And I'm not saying that only the people in the 50s had a specific idea of art no it's throughout generations dating back to the beginning of life. What the 50s and up did was break all conformities of what art was: canvas, pottery, or some sort of material. It can be anything you want.

If anything, we've broken the "definition" of art so much, that all forms of creating something from an idea is considered art. And it's completely okay to dislike art or like art for that reason.

Credits:

This has been more of a rant rather than actual research. I studied in art at college but I'm no means an expert... so I'll credit the original artists in order of appearance. Even though I found them online through a search.

David Statue (Michelangelo) - Michelangelo

God healing the Leprosy Man Illumination - unknown

Justinian Byzantine Mosaic - unknown

Farmers Working in the Field - Vincent Van Gogh

Canotage à Bougival - Pierre-Auguste Renoir

The Sick Child - Edvard Munch

HERE IT IS - Lawrence Weiner

unknown - Alighiero Boetti

The Golden Toilet - Maurizio Cattelan

#art history #i spent too much time on this lmao #vincent van gogh #pierre auguste renoir #edvard munch #illuminations #art #i hope this is decent #in terms of rant #education #museum

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draconic-ichor · 3 years

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In the Steel Steeds Heart

Chapter 24: Slip of the Hand

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, blood/gore, stitching/medical instruments, knives, sickness, light body horror

Summary: Juniper picks up an old hobby while Heisenberg makes a big mistake while working on a long-standing one.

Feedback appreciated, 18+. Sorry it’s slower everyone I’ll start posting a bit quicker next month

Juniper sat on the balcony, the sunshine warming her enough to be comfortable. In the recent weeks she and Heisenberg went back to damn near normal, or as normal as their life had ever been given the circumstances. She was fully healed and feeling bright and chipper.

Heisenberg even started to call her newer nicknames more often: like wifey, love and his Mrs.

Juniper got back into making sketches. She was very rusty and most pictures looked little more than doodles but it brought her joy. Heisenberg even found her a whole stack of empty notebooks.

She was using one of them, drawing a sketch of a raven. The bird of interest was sitting on the balcony ledge, watching her with bright eyes.

It cocked its feathered head, making curious gurgles as she looked between it and the paper.

“You are such a pretty bird.” Juniper complimented, earring a throaty little trill in return.

Juniper’s pencil scratched against the paper, “Just like that.” She cooed, “You’re being such a good bird.”

She concentrated on the drawing for a short while longer, looking up at her muse. Eventually she was happy with the finished product, shading in the feathers with the pencil.

She turned the notebook around, showing her work to her subject. “Do you like it?” She asks, holding it before the Raven.

The bird gave a little hop, almost in surprise, leaning in a bit to look over the portrait. It gave a throaty croak of approval, ruffling its feathers.

Juniper giggled, “Thank you!” She turned to look at it again, happy with her work. She closed the sketchbook, standing and stretching a bit.

“You were radiant.” She complimented the bird, reaching out a hand slowly towards it. The raven allowed her to give it a soft stroke down its onyx feathers, closing its eyes in contentment.

Juniper said her goodbyes to the bird, collecting her supplies and heading back into the factory.

The raven sat for a long moment, watching the closed metal door before hoping off into the air. It gave a few strong wing beats before it disintegrated into a moldy cloud, done with its tasks.

Unaware of anything amiss Juniper put everything away, tiring her hair up in preparation to find Heisenberg. She knew he was finishing up a Soldat, so wanted to give a hand if needed.

The smell of blood and oil stung Juniper’s nose as she neared the lower workshop. As she opened the door the smell grew so strong it almost fogged her senses for a moment.

Her stomach clenched, taking over the scene.

The most recent soldat was on the floor, head crushed into a bloody pulp. Dark liquid oozed out of it, mixing with the iridescent swirling of oil and the bright crimson of fresh blood.

Fresh blood?

Juniper’s eyes widened, seeing blood drip from one of the creature’s many drills. Her eyes followed the splatters until they found the source.

Heisenberg sat in a chair, eyes dilated and chest heaving in short strained breaths. His arm rested over the nearest desk. A deep gash ran the length of his forearm, alabaster peeked through the flesh of the bone within.

The wound welled blood across the table, staining papers and dripping onto the floor. Juniper saw medical supplies haphazardly around his vicinity, where he attempted to mend himself before the shock set in.

She rushed over to him, touching his face, trying to keep panic from overtaking her.

“Heis..honey can you hear me?” She asked, “You need to breathe.”

His eyes flicked over her face, jaw tight as he huffed out of his nose. She saw blood pulse from the wound as his muscles twitched.

Scrambling to get clean gauze she soaked it in healing fluid before pressing it over the wound.

Heisenberg took a sharp intake of air, pain rippling through him.

“Hold this.” Juniper took his free hand in her own, guiding him to press the gauze over the worst of the wound.

He complied, still looking forward, almost unseeing.

She looked around the mess, not seeing what she needed. Rushing to one of the supply cabinets she found thread and a medical needle. She’d only done things like this on dead bodies, never being taught the intricacies of mending living flesh.

Juniper hoped that her lack of skill would be enough for his healing abilities to take over.

Returning to him, the pressure he’d placed on the wound slowed the bleeding slightly.

“Still with me?” She asked, moving his hand away to clean the wound.

She saw his pale eyes shift to look at her for a brief moment before returning to their ordinal position.

“This is going to hurt.” She warned, threading the needle. She tried to pull the ragged flesh back together the best she could, sinking the needle in to make the first stitch.

He groaned, moving a bit. Juniper angled herself to hold him still as she worked. With shaking hands, she kept stitching up his arm, it becoming more difficult as she neared the worst of the wound.

“B-Butter…cup?” Heisenberg’s voice wavered, shifting a bit.

“Stay still.” Her tone was warning, “I’m trying to fix you up.”

She was able to close the wound, frowning at the divot left in his arm from the loss of muscle in the area.

Juniper cleaned the area more thoroughly, dabbing more healing salve over it.

The stinging sensation sobered Heisenberg’s mind ever so slightly.

“Breathe.” Juniper instructed, finding clean gauze. When she began to wrap his arm he was able to speak a bit to her.

“What happened?” She asked.

“Ba-bastard woke up…” he managed, “…too fast, di-didn’t real-ize…”

“It’s alright.” Juniper soothed, taping down the end of the wrapping, “Can you walk.”

Heisenberg swallowed hard, unable to answer.

Juniper stood, helping him to his feet. He swayed heavily, leaning on her. She grunted, getting his arm around her shoulder for support. It was hard getting to the elevator, his feet like concrete. But she was finally able to get him back to the apartment, sitting him on the bed as she took off his necklaces and boots. His glazed eyes watched her wordlessly.

She helped him lay back, covering him up so he could come down from the shock. His good hand clutched the wrappings of his opposite arm.

Juniper sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to smooth hair from his face.

Heisenberg woke up in the bed, it was dark and his arm ached terribly. His memory was hazy at best, the soldat scraping his bone was the last clear thought. It wasn’t the worst thing he’d endured, but he honestly expected to wake up on the shop floor like so many times in the past.

His hand found his injured arm, fingers tracing gauze.

How the fuck had he managed that?

He tried to sit up, a painful spike jolting through his head. His mouth felt dry and a migraine was threatening him.

“Fuck.” He cursed, falling back onto the bed.

Soft hands found his face, and under the blanket of pain he didn’t realize their owner right away.

“Karl?” Came a sweet voice.

“I’m…f-fine.” He answered, blinking up into glowing green eyes. He winced as another ripple of pain wracked his brain.

“You’re a lying bastard.” Juniper’s lips pursed.

He tried to give a tight chuckle, “Tell me something I don’t know sweetheart.”

He felt her leave the bed, his mind clearing slightly.

Her finger lightly tapped him, rousing him to look. She offered him a glass of water.

“You’re dehydrated.” She said matter-of-factly.

He sat up enough to take the glass, downing it thankfully.

The liquid helped, allowing him the small mercy of thought. “Did you?” He gestured to his arm.

“Mhm.”

“Damn…thank you.”

“I cleaned a lot of the blood, but I couldn’t do much about the soldat.”

“That’s fine, I’ll toss him to the Lycans.” He shrugged. He sat up more as she settled on the bed near him. She made a sound as he ripped the gauze away from his arm. He looked over the rough stitching, “Well it’s together.”

He lifted his hand, one of the kitchen knives whizzing through the air, one of the lights flicking on.

“Hey!” Juniper’s stomach clenched when she saw him angle the tip of the knife into the stitching, “What are you doing?!”

“Shut up.” He grumbled, snapping the stitching, pulling them out with small winces. After he was done he showed her his arm. She made a small mummer of surprise.

The gash was now bright pink, in the earliest stages of scaring. It would be a bit more ragged than most of his but it was definitely healing over.

“Already?” She almost gasped, reaching out to delicately touch the new tissue.

“Ain’t my first rodeo, buttercup.” He gave her a toothy smile, “And ain’t my worse fuck up.”

“I didn’t think it would be so fast.” She admitted, meeting his eyes again.

He set the knife on the side table, “It usually is as long as it’s not too extensive. If you help it along with what you did, for example, even bad shit can heal within a day or two.”

“Like can you regrow limbs?”

“I’m not a fucking lizard!”

“If you still had the limb?”

“If you're fast enough, and get it back together right, it would probably heal.” He frowned, “I’d rather not test it….my intestines hitting the floor was the worst I’d like to deal with.”

Juniper’s eyes were the size of saucers, making Heisenberg bark with laughter.

“It was a long time ago, don’t worry about it.” He shrugged again.

“Don’t worry about it??”

“I was younger and thought my cock was big enough that I didn’t need to be careful.” He smiled, “I learned my lesson….mostly.”

“Hmmm.” She frowned.

Heisenberg eased back into the bed, his muscles still aching. He’d lost too much time with the current soldat now being a wash. Juniper watched him, knowing that look of determination that spread across his feathers.

She clung onto him.

“Rest for a bit longer.” She nuzzled into him, “You’re still healing.”

He snorted, “I don’t need rest for healing.”

“Please stay.”

“I’m behind schedule already, kitten…”

“Just a few more hours?” She begged.

He gave a deep sigh, feeling the tug of the warm bed and Juniper’s even warmer snuggles. “Just a few hours.” He pressed.

Juniper wiggled with victory, cuddling deeper into his side. He wrapped an arm around her, smiling when he felt her relax into the contact.

They settled into a much more restful sleep.

Something felt wrong the moment she woke up that morning. Heisenberg had long since gotten to work, he had to trash the old soldat and start prepping the next. But him being gone was not unusual.

Juniper went about the beginning of her day normally, trying to ignore the churning in her gut. The feeling worsened as she descended the elevator, the heat making her head swim.

As she came through the door to the workshop, the smell of organs and old blood hit her nose. It was a smell she was long since accustomed to. At least she thought she was.

Her stomach suddenly clenched and before she could react she curled forward, vomiting onto the shop floor.

Heisenberg looked up with alarm, dropping the liver back into the cadaver’s abdominal cavity.

“Shit, are you ok doll?” He asked suddenly, ripping off his soiled gloves.

Juniper’s head pounded as her body shivered with another round of vomit. Saliva dripped down her chin as she looked shakily up at Heisenberg, tears burning her eyes.

He helped her into a chair, handing her a bucket.

“What’s going on?” He questioned worriedly, putting a hand to her forehead. She wasn’t hot, no fever.

“I don’t know.” She shook her head, holding the bucket to her chest, “I felt queasy when I woke up.”

“Hmm.” He frowned, “It’s probably the cadou.”

Juniper remembered the night she stayed by Heisenberg’s side when he was sick.

“What do I do?” She asked, feeling another bout of nausea wash over her.

“Wait it out.” He said frankly.

She gave him a narrow look before retching again.

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly until she was able to speak again.

“Let’s get you back upstairs.” He helped her stand.

Once she was back in the apartment, Heisenberg got her a fresh bucket and a glass of water. “You take it easy ok.” He pointed to the bed. Before she could protest he placed a walkie talkie on the bedside table, “If you need anything just call.”

The rest of the day she focused on staying hydrated, the feeling washing back away like the tides of the sea. It never quite left her, however, not being a brief bout like Heisenberg was accustomed too.

It was all very puzzling to Juniper…

#resident evil village #karl heisenberg #heisenberg x oc #re8 oc #heisenberg #in the steel steeds heart #resident evil

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gh0ulbunni · 3 years

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Aight bitches, headcanons for my version of the WATXM Cartoon's 'Mortimer Toynbee'

(TW: Death, suicide, depression, mental illness, body horror but it's not that bad)

-The stage we see Mortimer at in the show is most likely him as an 18 - 20 year old, still in the juvenile stages of his mutation as it occurred after the death of his mother Esmerelda. Esmerelda was a kind and meek but busy woman who ultimately died from a stroke caused by high blood pressure. She worked 3 high stress jobs in order to try and keep a roof over her and Mort's heads as his father gave up his rights because he "Didn't want a freak for a son and that he'd never be his son."

-When his mutation actually began to show after her death when he was 3, Mortimer's once ivory skin turned fully green and due to the neglect his hair became matted in chunks (the braids we see in the show), his hygiene dropped to little to no self-care because of the new allergic reactions he'd get when his new sensitive skin came into contact with the naturally chemical loaded body washes, deodorants, shampoo, and tooth pastes that he had. He turned to showering with just water and brushing his teeth with just water, but the water the brotherhood has access to was INCREDIBLY dirty and laced with chemicals that made him sick.

-Mortimer is actually incredibly smart, but others would feel threatened by him when he tried to show this so he mainly acts dumb and stupid as a way to avoid conflict and aggression from people (Specifically Pietro and Dominikos).

-At 22 he finally leaves the brotherhood after being there for 4 years and tries to take his own life only to realize he's developed superhuman durability and a healing factor. This immediately makes him frustrated because he feels he's been punished and forced to live a miserable life.. And in comes Spider-Man who talks him out of trying to jump and takes him to SHIELD.

-After a few days at SHIELD's holding cells he makes a bit of an impression on Fury who offers him a role as an agent. Mortimer, a people pleaser who'll take any chance to climb up the ladder in life, immediately agrees and sets to work training.

-As he trains, his mutation gets stronger and he unlocks more abilities he never thought he could have: Superhuman strength, durability, endurance, agility, senses, special eyesight, chemical and toxin production, flexible bone structure, superhuman lungs, telepathic communication with amphibians, acidic saliva, flaming tongue, and a venomous pheremone secretion that allows for mind control.

-The final step was when he fell extremely ill and it was discovered that his genetic makeup was severely broken due his involvement in an experiment called the Black Womb Project, ran by Charles Xavier's step-father/Juggernaut's father Kurt Marko. This left Mortimer's DNA and mutation severely unstable and it almost caused him to loose control of his new powers and have multiple mental breakdowns and even a manic episode where was on an extreme high before going through psychosis in which he believed Magneto was out to kill him for leaving his son's group.

-After having a hell of a few months, Mortimer is put through a new process called Genetic Rehabilitation designed for mutants who've been forced through experimentation programs and have had their DNA damaged.

-After a while his skin turns from 100% green to 40% green with lots of ivory patches. The tops of his hands, chest, stomach, inside of his legs, and the tops and bottoms of his feet are a pale ivory color while his back, neck, cheek and temples, arms, his sides, and the outsides of his legs are varying shades of soft green with patches of dark green ranging in sizes from small to giant patches on his joints and sockets (shoulders, elbows, knees, and hips) which he's self-concious about at first but comes to love his new look. The most shocking part is his eyes which become black with amber irises that have flicks of lime and gold in them.

-Along with getting therapy for his DNA and body, he gets therapy for his mental health which.. Hoo boy he was and still is strugglin (but not as bad). He has: BPD, C-PTSD, GAD, ODD, and Depression.

-Absolutely loves brushing and caring for his hair, which, after it's unmatted and cleaned of bugs and gunk is ass length and black with a silky shine to it. He still wears his old bandana thing

-Has picked up playing a musical instrument in his spare time. If he isn't working, tinkering with his suit, gear, and gadgets then he's playing... The violin?

-He's suprisingly good at it.

-After becoming a shield agent he starts to get more confidence before meeting a mutant who was currently in SHIELD's custody... Said mutant being the oc of @ohmygillygoshoppler

-Callista and Mortimer become close, he spends lunchbreaks with her, constantly volunteers to be her guard/escort when she's let out.

-Ok so, dad headcanons lETS GO

-Cal and Mort end up having a daughter named after his mom, and her thing is having her mom's monster mouth with mouths on her hands that can shoot out 13ft long flaming tongues. Esme (or Esmerelda) absolutely becomes a rescue hero

-Callie is into clown/circus lolita outfits and Mortimer is a grunge punk. Esme never gets dressed in the basic ass kids clothes, she looks like mini Wednesday Addams.

-This child never gets put down (physically), Mort or Cal are always holding her.

-Mort and Esme are the epitome of "Don't talk to me or my kid ever again" while Esme is copying her dad's glare.

-Alright, Mort's strong.

-Like, really strong. He didn't even know how strong until he was cornered on his first mission as a shield agent and he kicked his enemy with his leg so hard he decapitates them.

-He can kick hard enough to knock down concrete walls, snap people in half, crack and damage paved roads, and create enough air pressure to knock people over.

-His tongue can crush skulls

-He could get hit by a semi-truck and still walk away with a few bruises

-Develops a bite force of 1,000 PSI (Less than a polar bear)

-He bench presses 3 tons with his legs and 1 ton with his arms

-Develops retractable claws that can lengthen and shorten, he uses these to fight.

-Looks like he could kill you, can kill you but has the energy of a golden retriever puppy

-As he ages he becomes more.. Forgiving? Of the people who've hurt him, specifically Pietro. He'll forgive but never forget, it's like when you drop a mug. It won't ever be the same.

-I imagine he fights a lot like how Deku does? The leg based fighting and shoot style is a big part of his fight style.

-Legs for daaaaaaaays, they're so long. Also he's 5'8 now because Toad is canonically 5'8 - 5'10 and he'll hold it over Wolverine while snickering.

#headcanons #xmen headcanon #my headcanons #artists on tumblr #x-men #x men the animated series #x men first class #x men rp #marvel #character design #mortimer toynbee #this can also go for Todd too #todd tolansky #x-men toad #the brotherhood of evil mutants

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papers4me · 3 years

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Fruits Basket, Se3, ep 12 (Part 1)

The aftermath of the curse lifting~ Btw, the timeline is super messy. Flashbacks & background stories aren’t this anime’s best tool, it’s always felt messy when they attempt that. more on it in my side notes below. Now into the ep~

-Yuki & Machi: ( Blossoming Love!):

I love that the author attempted different direction of romantic love with yuki/machi that suits yuki’s personality! Opposite to kyo/tohru who had the (from best friends to lovers/ from roommates of 3 years to lovers). Yuki & machi’s love is based on natural crush & while she isnt his best friend, she’ll be his lover & they’ll know each other after dating. Both types of love are realistic & have their own path of dynamics, which is clear with how yuki/machi will be interacting & how kyo/tohru are now interacting since becoming official. I’m still bummed most of yuki/machi’s “noticing each other” is supposed to be off-screen, it robbed me of seeing yuki interact in a normal teenage-boy crushing on a girl which contrasts his relationship with kakeru, kyo, haru & tohru. Now, we’ll start the “ official-boyfriend yuki” stage! Also, this jump to confessions didnt help machi have any uniqueness beside being saved by yuki’s words from her trauma. watching her interact with him normally would’ve added realistic depth to her being a normal girl with unique cute quirks differently from tohru, Isuzu, kagura or even motoko!. Oh well~ moving on & focusing on the meaningful cute confession. I loved that altho there were a hug & a kiss, it didn’t have “ I love you” statement. You know they (will) love each other so dearly, but they’re in stage 1 now, she just called him by his first name for the first time! cute! I love that the emphasis is on the “ first name” calling since this is a huge key to yuki’s identity & struggle. Also, It is cute she bought a gift to tohru! This is a set-up to a healthy relationship with yuki since she isn’t jealous from a precious woman in his life that isnt related by blood.

-Moving towards the future: Kyoru’s final stage of growth!

By Kyokoy’s grave Kyo & tohru had key moment of growth & healthy closure to their core character issues::

1- Kyo’s toxic habit of running from life became a desire to run towards life!: While this habit is rightfully excused by his trauma, it needed to be addressed once his curse broke. We know he stopped running & faced his dad, confessed to tohru, accepted her love, embraced his crazy desire for her & accepted he deserved to be loved! Even ran towards tohru, chasing her! However, all the above is him running to the good current life in his grasp. He needs to run to the far away future this time! Needs to plan for the good & accept that the bad is part of it. struggling is part of life & he’ll endure it together with her, while enjoying life’s rewards.

I love that kyo is the one who suggested moving out to another city/place, cuz kyo was the one NOT living. He was long dead & trapped in the cage of his guilt & self-loath. Tohru at least was living thro helping others ( which is not real living but at least it’s better). Kyo was “ Mom, why didn’t you kill me instead of yourself?” ,“ I’ll kill yuki & then kill myself, would that please you, dad?!”, “ I cant forgive me, I dont want you to forgive me, tohru”. Walking on a road of self-destruction & slow death. But now, with tohru he wants life!!! all of it!! travel, learn, see, struggle, fail, succeed, build their own future by themselves.

I love that kyo didnt take tohru’s approval for his plans for granted. He really didnt think she’ll accept right away. He didnt even want her to dedice quickly, He was prepared for compromising to a better solution for them both. They’ll work other possibilities “ if i’m gonna live in this world, I want to do it with you”.

I love that kyo was real abt the obstacles ahead & didnt want tohru to just follow him based on love. He wanted her to decide on her own as well. He also, left the door open for her to change her mind anytime & this screams support & understanding!! Very powerful!.

2- Thoru’s toxic habit of being ashamed to desire anything for herself, living for others & wearing a happy “i’m okay” mask while concealing her true feelings became confidence, self-clarity & honesty: The tohru who was smiling while concealing grief on the beach is gone, the tohru who kyo had to coax her to “complain, be selfish” se01,ep5, to “not hide worrying over a relative’s sickness” se02, ep14 “ cry if she needs to” se3, ep6, is now telling kyo her honest opinion abt his proposal, while thinking of her own self as much as him & even objecting to his sentiment abt her mom’s words!!!!

I love that tohru is now a confident free woman making her own decisions based on self-honesty & communication with her partner. She wasn't just “okay” with it cuz he wants it while putting fake smile, No more of that. Now, she’ll say her true feelings, she asked him abt his plans, tried to see if it is a spur of the moment decision or if he really thought abt it. She also inquired where’s heading, who he talked to, what he’s planning! She is deciding for herself after hearing him! ok, this is your plan? I like it. I’m going! Very powerful!.

I love that like how kyo was realistic abt the plan having some difficulties due to starting away by themselves, she was also realistic that it is indeed sad to part with my friends, my hometown, & my mom’s resting-place, but i’ll choose ME now. “I” want to go with you for “me”. This is not a bind I’ll follow you wherever love story, this is realistic depiction of healthy relationship. Acknowledging hardships & accepting them saves you from being crushed by failure, you’ll endure it when it eventually happens & move on, cuz God knows we DO fail & succeed! Life isnt smooth sailing~

I love that tohru complemented him on his plan cuz she could see that is a sign of growth. If she’s gonna share her life with this man, it is delightful to see that he is thinking of a happier, healthier & realistic future! Cuz kyo was this destroyed man~ so destroyed he was pushing her away despite loving her dearly, now, he’s asking her opinion & permission to accompany him!

I love that tohru made sure to touch upon kyo’s last scar “ my mom doesnt hate you” This is a scar that wont go away even if kyo is mentally healthy. Cuz death is the ultimate truth. He can never hear kyoko’s affirming her love for him, he’ll have to trust in it based on their earlier interaction together. Tohru is powerfully & stubbornly taking away most of his pain by affirming her acknowledge of her mom. You might disagree kyo, you might still feel a bit guilty, it might haunt you sometimes. but me? NO. Never. Mom loved you. She meant ONLY good. Hopefully my determination heals you bit by bit, & it DOES. Kyo stands bravely, confidently & happily in front of kyoko’s grave & instead of saying “ i apologize for hurting you, or tohru, I’m sorry, forgive me”. he tells her he’ll keep their promise & protect tohru for life! he literally proposed there in front of her mom & all. T_T

-Kyoko’s Words: ( Sometimes, you don’t get to know the whole truth & that’s okay):

Can’t describe how much I love this part. This is the most painful yet important lesson in furuba. Life isn’t a movie where the entire truth is exposed to the characters or the audience. Sometimes you live & die without getting to know an important truth, hearing a much needed confirmation, or getting a loved one’s forgiveness. There are things in our life that we just can’t get back no matter how much we tried. What we do, then? die? despair? throw away what we DO have in our hands for this lost truth no matter how important it was to us? No, we do the only thing we can. Live. Not just go thro life’s motion, but really live. Accept the good & the bad. This is so goddamn easy & difficult as hell too!

-Kyo not knowing kyoko’s words at that time was tragic. It was so tragic it sent kyo into a suicidal descent into the abyss. The wounds of his mom’s death that were slowly healing with kazuma’s care got re-opened & poured blood! The old destructive habits became full force, The toxic coping habits returned with its ugliness. I can’t kill myself literally? I’ll do it figuratively. trapped, caged, destroyed, eyes shut, ears closed, only seeing his pain. Kyo is us. All of us in any moment of true crushing despair. He could never bring the dead back, hear their loving words or ask forgiveness. Thro kyo, the author is telling us... I know. You had your moment of lost truth, didn’t you? I know. IT IS OKAY. live, my child. your pain is valid, let it take its course, but afterwards live bravely.

-Kyo’s path towards healing is: the ugliest cuz it hurt tohru of all ppl, the longest cuz he was the last one to move on, the bloodiest cuz he’ll never have the ppl he lost, the rockiest cuz he failed & failed, the most frustrating cuz he repeated his mistakes over & over, He couldnt even do it alone. needed intervention & support. He lost hope. completely. But it is okay even if you fell as deep as kyo: stand up. even if you never learned the truth: let go. even if you were the last one to learn or heal: it isn’t a race. Embrace life with its good & bad & continue as kyoko said “ you fought well”

-Kyoko’s parting plea to her daughter broke my heart into pieces. Death is ugly, but death is a truth that we can’t escape. The leaving ones is hurting as much as the ones left behind, but hopefully, the leaving ones will find a happiness a kin to the ones left behind. yuki’s "say a prayer & move one, one step at a time” is all you can do.

-Kyoko was: a gangster who hurt others (ugly path), repented, married & had a daughter (fulfilling path), widowed & left her daughter while grieving (ugly path), came back, repented & tried to raise tohru well, love her enough! (fulfilling path), died & left her young high school daughter all alone (heartbreaking path) but she accepted that the last path isn’t sth she can fight, prayed, & accepted her fate~

-Kyoko~~ “ you fought well” while you were alive~ you really did! The Tohru you left behind helped a whole clan & hopefully readers as well! you tohru is loved by an entire generation of readers & anime watchers. Tohru is so precious & I can’t stop crying~

Side Notes:

Timeline is super messy & confusing. (a) Tohru’s hospital discharge, kyoru’s hug & curse break for everybody all happened at the (late) afternoon. While curse was breaking, akito was wearing her white kimono & she cried until tohru hugged her on sunset. (b) Before tohru’s hospital shigure’s face was scar-less. we first saw the scar in the afternoon & he was wearing his kimono.

Now the flashback, Akito wearing her outfit from her talk with the maid (which also happened while kyo was talking to his dad which is on the same day) & shigure wearing suit & it’s sunset time??????? How can the sunset happen before the curse break on the afternoon? She inflected the scars on the sunset, how did he have them on the afternoon of the same day?? both changed outfits which is even weirder??? Someone help me put things on order. Or is order not important? If the sequence of events isn’t important, then, why did it have to happen on the curse break day??? Shigure could’ve had his scars a day or two before tohru’s discharge.

Also the OP started in the middle of yuki’s scene which was so odd!

No big deal, but I still feel that yuki’s curse break would’ve been thematically powerful last ep. Especially after seeing The Zodiac Ruler come & collect the spirits. The legend would've been wrapped powerfully on the same ep where it was told. We see the zodiacs’ original story & we see its closure. It would’ve made tohru/akito’s hug more symbolic. An end of an era to akito & to them all. Real Goodbye to the zodiac animals, but now we had a goodbye & a half. lol.

Is yuki the only one seeing the cursed spirit? He looked down at it? I dont remember the others looking down where an animal would be? Is yuki’s curse special? different? He got all the ropes/bonds around him? I really thought yuki’s theme is all abt desiring to be normal & despising the “special” treatment that haunted him even in school.

Momiji/ kagura /kyo interaction is cute!

Haru/Yuki/ Isuzu interaction is cute as well. XD

Kagura, girl, you used to have best fashion, what’s up with jeans under knee length dress?! lol.

I’ll be honest. It is a lost opportunity that machi weren't made to question how teen-tohru is yuki’s mom. That would’ve solidified her as a unique stand alone character if she were to discuss it with yuki. Tohru being yuki’s mom figure is not normal, otherwise yuki’s entire dilemma of figuring out his feelings for tohru would’ve become meaningless. Having machi quickly “understand” it is a bit weird. But it helps the plot move quickly, I guess. ( it reminds me of Arisa hugging akito when she confessed stabbing kureno without questioning anything, it is weird, but you get the message that “ we aint got time for that~ gotta hop on the next plot).

I love that furuba subverted the old anime-trope of the entire happy cast staying together in one city/place & living exactly like they did in their teens except being married now! XD. It is so realistic that each character is now moving on their path of life~

Tohru wore a ring in her foreshadowing vision! SHE WORE A RING! My baby girl is a grown woman now~ T_T. I love tohru so much!~

Shigure/ akito & the last banquet is in my review part 2. I’ve been editing out any thoughts abt Shigure from my previous posts. I needed to see the whole picture first. I think can now talk abt them, I’m looking forward to the comments of the next part cuz I really really need to see if I understood it or if i’m off.

#Fruits Basket #Anime Only #crying paper #proud paper!#tohru is just so precious!#final season #Part 1

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astringofmadhousefloozies · 4 years

Text

On Illness and Recovery, or: Sickfic, Baby!

You know the drill! Please let me know if you liked it, and check my Twisted Wonderland fanfiction tag if you want other shit I’ve done.

Contains coarse language and emotional whiplash.

~*~*~*~

Some things stay true no matter where you are; the truest, right now? Schools are disgusting fucking petri dishes, as your miserable cold will tell you. Your cough had only been getting worse as the days went on, with it came exhaustion and a chill that wouldn't leave your bones. You should probably be holed up in your dorm instead of going to class, but that had it's own issues that you were struggling to solve.

"Are you done yet? I want to eat." Grimm's nose, and little else, poked out from a pile of blankets on your bed.

"Nowhere close. Shh." You taped the last bit of plastic over the balcony entryway, and swapped the roll of tape for a heavy duty stapler. "Hold that right there."

The skull-faced ghost held a packing blanket over the plastic as you stapled it in place. By the time you were done, you couldn't see much, which at least meant you could no longer see your own breath. Maybe now, you would be able to feel your own fingers.

Ah, they joys of your own rotten, ancient place - you wake up with frost on your bedsheets and your washbasin shattered from the ice within it. There were other rooms in the place, but most had holes in the ceiling or were too big to heat effectively. So now, you were going to live in one room, that you'd yet to figure out how to run electricity to, and only leave for class or the bathroom. Even if you were ill, could anyone blame you for still going to class when your own home had a nasty quirk of being even colder than outside?

Anywho, it was time to do some homework. By the light of an oil lamp. In five layers of clothing. Curled up so close to a tiny fire you might as well be inside of it. While your not-a-cat complained the whole time.

Yaaaaaaay.

~*~*~*~

"You really should be resting."

You scoffed. "You just feel bad because you're the one who got me sick."

"You can't prove that, everyone's had a cold the past few weeks."

"No one else has been exploring my tonsils, dude."

Idia clapped a hand on your mouth, which you did not lick solely because you were wearing a cloth mask. "Quiet! That's secret intel."

"What? No it's not, everyone knows."

"I don't want to advertise. Then I'm a raid boss and you're the rare loot drop."

You elbowed him in his boney ribs. "No one's going to kick your ass out of jealousy. Just because I'm the hottest bitch in this place doesn't mean I've got universal appeal."

"You're still the only girl and people are weird about it." He placed the back of his hand on your forehead and winced. "You're too warm."

"How can you tell? You've got gloves on."

"That's how bad it is. I'll make some tea."

"I'm not drinking anything out of the damned lab equipment."

He frowned. "I've never had anything bad happen, it's cleaned correctly."

"You're smarter than that. One of these days you're going to grow a tail due to residue in the glassware, and I'm going to haul you around in front of god and everyone by it, going 'I told you so' the entire time."

He blanched, knowing that that was not an idle threat, and someone laughed. "I think I should make that happen, just so we can see that."

"Jade, no. No magic mushrooms for my man, or any other concoctionary bullshit either."

Idia looked ready to die, so to take attention off of him you leaned over and poked Silver awake before he fell face first in the potion he was working on. Logically, you know his narcolepsy was debilitating. Right now, you wish you could have borrowed it last night. You don't remember walking up during the night, but you must have, because why else would you be so tired?

He started up, mumbled "thank you" and went back to stirring as if he hadn't been about to drown in dubious magichemicals. God, you wished that was you right now.

"Idia, deal. You help me get through this class, I'll grab some hot food and go home."

He made a show of hemming and hawing before saying, "Grimm needs to let me hold him when I drop you off, and I will."

Ordinarily, you would have just said "Ask him yourself and don't be weird about it," and Grimm would have simply told him no until sufficiently bribed. But Grimm was still in bed at home, saying you kept him up all night, so instead you bumped Idia with your hip and said "What, you can't think to ask for better pussy to fondle?"

Of course, you just had to say something crass at the moment where everyone went quiet. Even Crewel raised his head and both eyebrows at you. The only reason you didn't get a riding crop to the face and a week in horny detention (where, you assumed, they punished you for being a bad girl indeed) was Idia, rapidly going through every stage of confusion and grief, with a few currently unknown to man. You'd intended to tease him, but that sheer amount of confused, horny misery on his face was just too much, and you laughed so hard you bent over.

And coughed. In a short time, there was no laughter left, only miserable coughing from the depths of your chest that left you on the floor with your eyes watering. Someone thumped your back a few times, and when you yanked your mask off to catch a proper, if shallow breath, your mask was full of a red-streaked, pus coloured slime.

A fur coat was draped over your shoulders as everyone made various noises of disgust. "Class dismissed. Let's get you to the nurses."

~*~*~*~

"How in hell are you still mobile."

"Pettiness and a desire to not freeze to death."

Crewel narrowed his eyes at you. "Both lungs."

"That is what double pneumonia means, Professor."

You could see his whip fingers itching. "Yes, well. You can't come to class like that. And... Is it really that bad in Ramshackle?"

Idia raised a hand. "It was really cold the last time I was there."

"Ugh. I told Crowley we should have razed the place for an expansion on my dog run." He looked at you with a curious mix of genuine fondness and even more genuine disgust. "I'm not putting you up until your place gets fixed, you'll leak all over my furniture. Anyone here going to babysit?"

"I've done perfectly fine in my own dorm, I don't need to become the pet of another dorm."

"Those little fairies said that if you don't stay on bedrest and stay warm, you will die. I am not filling out that paperwork." He looked to you classmates. "Speak up or I'm docking a letter grade."

Silver raised a hand. "I think we could do it but I don't think D- Lilia would let me. Malleus would end up trying to play nurse and skip class."

"Oh god, no, we don't tell him I'm sick until I'm safely ensconced somewhere, he would lose his damn mind and I'd try to strangle him after a week of it."

"There are no spare rooms in Octanivelle. However, I could try some experimental medicines I've been-"

"Jade, no."

Idia was quiet, before speaking up. "I... I don't know if Ignihyde has a spare room, or would be good for healing."

He'd not left your side since your collapse, and gone so full of writhing, barely concealed anxiety he'd broke through the other side and simply shut off. You didn't get it, it wasn't actually anything serious. The nurses had pumped you full of medicine, you'd be up and about a week or two at the most, instead of the month's worth of hospital rooms and bad food it would have been.

Crewel sighed. "Time to start checking the files to see where you can be squeezed."

There was a cough, from the fifth student so quiet despite his size. Everyone had honestly forgotten he was there.

When he spoke up, it was to you, and not anyone else. "There's an unoccupied room down the hall from me. I think the weather in the Savannahclaw dorms will be good for your health. You shouldn't have to stay where you won't be wanted, or get sicker. Would that work?"

You looked at him, assessing. You and him hadn't talked overmuch, and he didn't seem to mind. But as severe as he looked? You could see the sincerity in his offer.

"That should work. Jack, right?"

His ears flicked, and his tail twitched. "Yes."

"Thank you, Jack. You're very kind."

~*~*~*~

Easy to see why the room was empty. You suspected it might have been a storage room, or that there had been a monastic order in the dorm at one point. A single bed just fit the far wall, with a chair, a desk, a bureau, and little else. But the far wall had a large window, and the room felt... nice. And a hell of a lot warmer than than your room in Ramshackle.

"It'll make an excellent sickroom." You set your schoolbag and an entire case of tissues on the desk. "Thank you again, Jack. You sure it won't be any trouble?"

"I've already cleared it with our dorm leader, he said he doesn't care as long as you don't rub phlegm on his things." Jack was a solid block of frown and muscle in the corner. "The window does open, you should keep it that way for circulation. There's a bathroom down the hall, there's showers in there. If you need anything or anyone tries to bother you, please let me know."

"Will do." You were already unpacking the few things in your bag, trying to get them arranged before another coughing fit took you.

"I can help get your things, if you need?" For a dude who was very do-that-shit-yourself, he was being very helpful.

"Idia's grabbing Grimm and anything else I'll need. He'll know what I want."

"I see." Silence, and more interesting ear flicks. "So."

"So?"

"You and him are..." He made a guesture with interlaced fingers.

"Yeah. Jealous?"

He snorted. "No. Just curious. He's a bit..." Hand wiggle.

"I'm a bit too. It works. Would have been nice if he'd gotten the hint before I had a ghost turn me inside out in front of him and everyone else."

"You know that's why you're so sick, right?"

You made a noise that was hard to decipher, that he used as cue to continue. "You never smelled quite right after that happened. Even after the healing. You're always a little..." He moved his hands, trying to grasp the right simile. "Like when a flower's starting to drop petals. Overripe."

How in the hell were you supposed to take that. What do you even say to that? Does everyone know you smell? Does -

"Oh god, you all know when I'm on the rag."

A single, curt nod, and you put your head in your hands and groaned.

~*~*~*~

A knock on the door

"Who is it?"

"Your worst enemy."

"Get your ass in here, Vil."

Vil had on... good lord. Mask, gloves, face shield. An absurdly fashionable CDC agent. "You look like shit."

"Thanks, Vil. Means so much coming from you."

He stayed by the door, ready to flee if a spare germ came floating towards him. "Heard you're out of commission. Thank the seven, I'll get some peace in my life."

You flipped him the bird, but smiled as you did. "Don't say that. I'll made a sheet ladder and mix sputum in your cold cream."

"If you do that I will personally burn your clothes and replace them with something decent that you will hate."

"Try. Come to gloat?"

"Just a bit." He set a large cup with a straw at the very edge of the desk, straining at arm's length as he did. "This should unfuck your throat somewhat."

"Such language!" You waited until he retreated to the door before you took the smoothie. It was... very, very purple, and smelled minty. "Trying to poison me, finally?"

He rolled his eyes. "When I decide to poison you, it's not going to be through something that obvious. You will never see it coming, and then I'll sell your corpse to Floyd and everyone will just think he finally decided to go full crazy and Riddle is next."

You snorted. "Honestly? I think he'd shit his pants if I actually returned the affection. One time I saw Riddle give him a genuine smile and he had to go sit down because he started shaking so bad." That might have been because the smile was caused by Floyd cracking his head on a doorway and falling flat on his ass, but the point still stood.

When he stopped laughing, he turned to leave. "Take at least an extra week to get better, for my sanity. And don't give the creature any, it won't agree with him."

"Shh, I just got him down for his nap-"

Grimm made a horrible snort from your feet and say up. "Food?"

You made a look-what-you-did guesture at Vil, but he left instead of helping you deal with your beloved yowling idiot.

~*~*~*~

You woke up coughing in the dark. It took entirely too long for you to figure out where the hell you were, and why, and you took the offered tissue with great-

"JaySUS FUCKING CHRIST" You jumped back so much it was only Malleus's grip on your arm that kept you from going through the open window.

"People are sleeping, please do not yell."

"Don't yell my ass, how long have you been there?"

He shrugged. "Since before sunset. Ortho was here first."

You leaned around Mal, to see Ortho sitting on the desk, scritching the belly of a drowsing Grimm. "Hello, Yuu. Your fever has gone down half of a degree since I took over."

The audacity of these idiots, you swear. "Both of you go home and go to bed."

"No. You need watching." Mal had not blinked once since you'd woken up, and how about that? His eyes glowed in the dark, or he had very strong eyeshine; either way, there was no iris around the blown out pupil. "You are very ill and need taken care of. I can do that, I took care of Silver when he was ill."

"Mal."

"Yes?"

"Do we need another boundaries talk?"

He frowned. "But you are ill."

"Mal, I will call Lilia and tell him what you are doing right now. I will personally write your grandmother and tell her you're neglecting your studies. I will get Leona down here and he will call you a simp until you go outside and fight him on compulsion."

"Those all sound terrible!"

"Ortho, don't kiss up because you're next. Why are you here and not home charging?"

"Idia wouldn't go home to sleep until I said I would let him know if you got worse."

You opened your mouth, and shut it again. Why's he so worried? You had to physically shove him out the door to go to his next class, looking like his heart would break, and he'd still skipped board games to fidget miserably in the chair Mal now sat in, looking ready to burst into tears every time you coughed.

Ortho seemed to read your mind. "He gets worried when people get sick. I got sick once."

Ah. That explained a hell of a lot that you were too polite to ask.

"... Okay, you can stay."

Mal perked up.

"You go home. I'll never go back to sleep if you keep staring all night, and you do need to sleep some."

Mal's face fell.

"You can come back tomorrow, after class."

He perked back up. "Goodnight, Yuu. I will see you tomorrow!" A brief kiss against your sweating temple, and he was out the same window he most likely came in.

"Hey, Ortho?"

"Yes?"

"If you can dim your lights a little, you can come lie down with me."

~*~*~*~

You were rudely poked awake by a giant asshole.

"Why are you in my nap room." Leona hovered over you with obvious displeasure.

You blinked and sorted yourself. Ortho was crammed between you and the window, hopefully dreaming of electric sheep, and Grimm was still dead asleep, the little bastard. "Jack put me up here because my dorm's a block of ice and I can't stay there on doctor's orders." Crewel might have a doctorate, it's not a lie.

"Why didn't he tell me?"

"I did." Jack was behind him, his own link in a chain of hovering displeasure. "You said it was fine as long as she didn't make a mess. I brought yogurt."

"Thank you-" More miserable coughing, with now everyone either rubbing your back or passing you tissues. Except Leona, who simply held back and watched. By the time you were done, he just nodded.

"I'm not moving you, but..."

"What."

"I'm calling in a favour next time Cheka gets pawned off on me. He likes you."

You'd argue that, but you liked the kid. "Aight. Everyone get out, there's too many fucking people in here and I'm discovering new and interesting depths of claustrophobia."

Leona didn't need to be told twice.

"I'll be back after class with your homework. Maybe at lunch with something. Not before then. Stay put."

"Oooo, oo. I'm going with you, big guy." Grimm scampered over. "I'll get bored here all day. You can just nap."

You rolled your eyes "I can just nap. Jack, if he sticks with you, he's going to want to eat everything you do."

"I'll manage."

"Would you like me to stay?" Ortho was finally up, or maybe you hadn't noticed him exiting screensaver mode.

"I'd like you to tell your brother that I'm not going anywhere. Use those exact words."

He nodded, a faint whirr as he did.

"I'll see you guys later, okay? I need more sleep."

~*~*~*~

Someone gently shook you awake, and said someone was leaning in the window.

"Hey, Kalim." Why'd you have to be the center of attention when sick, and therefore couldn't kiss anyone to thank them for said attention.

"Hi! I asked Jamil to make extra lunch for you!" He set a covered dish on your knees.

"Thank you. Was he okay with that?"

"He was when I said it was for you. Everyone's heard that you're laid up!"

"News travels fast. Am I about to get even more popular?"

"You're always popular because you're great. Feel better! Jamil said he'll have extras tomorrow too. See you!" And off he went.

You needed to tell Jamil thank you, but he would probably just tell you to just stop talking about abolishing the monarchy instead. (Not because he didn't support the idea, but because he didn't want to be punished for not keeping the idea from Kalim.) What did he make, anyway?

"Oh, curry. Sweet."

~*~*~*~

The days progressed roughly the same. Drowsing most of the morning, lunch, more drowsing in between laptop stuff, maybe actual sleep. Coughing up far less gunk as the days went on. And entertaining an absurd fucking amount of people. Everyone seemed determined to check on you, even people who you'd never seen before in your life; Ruggie made something like 10k madol charging people to try and see you through the window before you cursed him out. Your Heartslabyul boys dropped in every couple of days to relate shit that they hadn't simply texted you (along with a pile of pastries from Trey and handwritten instructions on recovery from Riddle, the latter far less appreciated than the former). Floyd dropped in once to mostly complain about how you weren't around to eat the mushrooms he picked out of his food, tried to convince you to let him carry you over to the Monstro Lounge himself, and when you refused, kissed the tips of your fingers and left pouting. Jack, true to his word, dropped in at least twice a day to deliver food and homework, and once spent forty-five minutes glowering at anyone approaching the bathrooms while you took a shower that ached on your oversensitive skin.

Some people were far more regular. Every day like clockwork, Malleus perched in your window and was the world's friendliest, most affectionate vulture. Twenty minutes after that, Idia would come in, sit in the chair, and exude such concentrated grief that you were at a loss for what to do beyond asking if he wanted to talk about it, to which he would shake his head and simply resume sitting there, tapping away at his screens until the next panicked flurry of activity every time you made a unhealthy noise.

"You are allowed to go home. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm much better than I was."

He just shook his head.

"I will come get you if something happens," Mal offered.

More head shaking, and a "no" from his tablet, before adding, "Never again."

"I'll call Ortho and make him tag you out."

"I said no. And Ortho is with Lilia."

Lilia, small, beloved pest, has what you like to think of as a compulsive need to parent. He was god knows how old, had raised at least three of your classmates that you know of, and seemed to consider you his newest fledgling. After hearing about what happened, he'd taken it into his own hands to fix Ramshackle to... well, not OSHA compliance, but you wouldn't be cold.

"Does he know how much I appreciate it? Appreciate all of you, really?"

"Of course he does. He loves talking about you. He wears that shirt you made all the time."

"Which one? I've made him seven so far."

"When do I get one?"

"When they make T shirts that'll fit over your horns." Something drooped in the corner of your eye, and you looked over to see Idia shaking himself upright. "Hey, babe. When was the last time you slept?"

He took an embarrassingly long time to lie through his teeth and say "Last night" through his tablet.

"Yeah, no. Get over here." You took a moment to drag Mal's hand down before he could just do a sleeping spell, or something equally well meaning but deeply inappropriate.

"No."

"Please?"

You held your arms out until he couldn't resist, and soon you'd arranged his head on your chest.

"You hear anything more sloshing around in there?"

He shook his head.

"I am on the mend. I... don't really know what happened before. And I sure as hell don't know what you did to get him back. But I'm not going anywhere. So rest."

He gave a faint nod.

"I will wake you, if need be?"

To both yours and Mal's surprise, Idia answered him with a pat on his leg.

"Thank you."

Idia was already asleep.

~*~*~*~

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what 'cyanosis' is?" You’d been stroking Idia's head for hours. Or minutes. Time flies, and you could not tell the difference.

"Not immediately, no."

"It's caused by a few different things. Hypoxia, hypothermia, that sort of thing. The blood in you doesn't have enough oxygen. So little that, instead of red, parts of your body turn blue or grey due to the lack of oxygen."

"I see." He looked intently, much as you did, at Idia's greyish nails and blue lips. "That doesn't seem survivable."

"Not if it's severe, no." The flames from Idia's head curled around your fingers, grasping at you even when he's not aware of it. "It's not something you see on someone as... lively as him. It's something I think about a lot. Whether it's to do with his magic, or that curse he won't elaborate on."

"I've heard rumours."

"Oh?"

"The Shroud family curse. Nothing concrete, for an origin. Madness, misfortune, and illness have plagued the family throughout history. Add in a trend of cousin marriage beyond the norm for upper-class families due to people not wanting to subject their loved ones to a cursed bloodline, and the tree is more of an notorious, ingrown shrub."

"That just sounds like shitty genetics and what happens to every family as the years go on, not a curse."

Mal shrugged. "is there a difference? Even in the sleeping curse my grandmother bestowed so easily, much of the power came for the fear of it. A girl grew up without her family because of the fear of it."

"True." You leaned down and kissed the top of Idia's head, feeling an unconscious smile as you did. "There must be a little hereditary something. He gets so anxious about this beautiful hair! He hates people looking at him, and he doesn't even realize it's because he's the most beautiful thing in any room he walks in."

"Thing?" Mal raised an amused eyebrow.

"Even the finest art in a museum doesn't have the benefit of being actually alive."

"Your capacity for love and beauty is enviable. Hunt would be jealous." He reached out and brushed a stray lock away from Idia's face, and you could feel another smile against your chest.

~*~*~*~

"Aight, so we've patched up holes in the walls, insulated the windows - Idia here," Lilia clapped Idia on the small of his back, causing him to make a distressed squeak - "smart boy, found some solar panels and we've got electricity up in your room, the kitchen and the bathroom by your room, not just the front room anymore! The rest we got the ghosts to help seal off to hold the heat in. I got you a space heater for your room, so you don't have to do a fire the whole time, and as long as you don't open the windows back up before spring, you won't freeze."

"Thanks, guys. One question."

"Yeah?"

"What did you do to my room."

Lilia smiled. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're a walking prank and can't keep out of there, what did you do."

"Nothing this time! I promise!" He held his hands up. "At least you can stay home for the next few days, Crewel says you gotta be back Monday or he's going to start making funeral prep."

"I'm literally better, but if he does that I get to help. Always wanted to plan my funeral, I have very specific ideas about what flowers to use and preferred corpse disposal."

"Maybe you should go upstairs and not talk about funerals and their associated things."

"Sure thing, dear."

After settling in your room, most everyone cleared out, even Idia. The only person still there was Jack, looking this way and that with a stern look.

"Hey, Jack?"

He grunted in assent.

"So like, why'd you put me up and help take care of me? We've hardly talked before then."

He sighed. "You've been very nice to me."

"You sure? I'd remember you."

"Uh."

"Jack?"

~*~*~*~

It was a beautiful day, if chilly in the wind. The sun was warm, the trees turning, and you just came across one of your best friends.

"Hi buddy! Are you lost today?"

The very large dog shook it's head and pressed into your knees.

"Okay, you wanna walk with me? Come on."

You'd found this enormous white Malamute wandering campus the first time a few months ago, and after checking in with a few other students who kept laughing when you asked if he was their dog, simply decided to enjoy your new friend and run and play. He was very smart, and initially standoffish, but could not resist a friendly face and good ear scritches. Today, you and Buddy here simply ran around like a couple of idiots after a lost soccer ball until it was time to go eat.

"I'll see you later, buddy. Bye!" You held out a hand, and after a firm shake, kissed the point where his snout met the rest of his face. "Stay safe, I love you."

Buddy made a low grumble and rubbed his paws over his face, and you went off to supper.

~*~*~*~

"You couldn't have told me?"

"How do you explain that? 'Hey, I run around as a wolf sometimes and you mistook me for a lost dog so you lovebombed me and I was at a loss and by the second time it was too awkward to say anything'?"

"I've been playing with you for months! I let you run with Crewel's dalmatians!"

"I run with them as a person, too, that's nothing special."

You pinched your nose. "Everyone must think I'm an idiot."

"I'll deal with them. I'm sorry, Yuu."

"I know. You are my good boy, after all."

His tail started wagging in spite of itself, and you laughed.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfiction #jack howl #idia shroud #malleus draconia

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buytheticket · 2 years

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this past march (2022) was the 10 year mark of me starting hrt. it’s really wild to think about being on testosterone for 10 (ten) entire years and just about thinking how it is to be living as a trans person in this present time.

i’ve also been on tumblr for like...12? years? though i haven’t been active for awhile. i basically started my transition on tumblr- i had a blog where i’d make really pathetic text posts under read more tags and post like “2 months on t” pics and get way too into personal details about my life. i got rid of the blogs that stuff was on but i kinda wish i kept some of it as like a journal. which is why i’m makin a brand new tumblr! i’m in the very first steps of getting a metoidioplasty!

I really wanna document the process, my experience and just keep a journal of what this is gonna be like. i think it’s important to keep a record of something like this, i think it’s something of value anyone can do. i really liked those fuckin like historical girl diary books? like the “’my sorrow knows no bounds’: a depression era diary” books. anyway, i think you learn a lot about the past thru a first hand account like a journal, like how shit really felt from day-to-day life.

i felt tumblr is the best place to do writings like these too, and a lot easier for me to keep up with than like a paper journal. i also like the cycle of it all, talking about such a late stage transition thing on a webiste where i talked about my very early stage transition but like this time i feel in such a much better place and be much more cognizant of what i’m sharing about myself and why cause like i want this to be a jounral but also a detailed account of how to go about getting bottom surgery. it’s oversharing with boundaries!

main caveat here: this process will be really influenced by a whole bunch of factors so the info i want to share might apply to a small number of folks. i do want to note down some basic facts about myself and my situation so it’s clear where i’m coming from and how that lead me to where i am and what i’m able to access

I’m 28, started to transition around 17. had, for the most part, supportive parents that helped me get what i needed (was able to get on t as soon as i turned 18, my pops paid for my name change, had health insurance, new name and pronouns went reasonably well with them) was born in california and always lived in states and cities where i had access to gender affirming care. i’m white and present pretty masculine/binary and, for a lack of a better term, am “cis passing”. i’ve had my share of negative/bad/uncomfortable experience with trans stuff but i feel fortunate that i’ve had a by all accounts easy time transitioning. i have a good therapist and am doing well in therapy and making really good progress. i am also on low dosages of zoloft and adderall to help with clinical depression and anxiety, and moderate adhd. i’m able to easily access the adderall and didn’t have much trouble getting my prescription like some folks do. i have a BA degree which made me eligible for my current job. I have a decent salary, good benefits and ample sick and vacation time. i also live in new york state where gender affirming care is required to be covered by insurance companies based in the state and gender identity is covered under the state’s human rights law

i want to say all those things cause they’re privileges and circumstances that mean i can get a meta- like i can get the time off paid, i have the means to travel into nyc for consults and the surgery, pay for lodging and food and really most important of it all a really supportive partner to help me with all of this. my living situation vastly improved a couple of years ago and i’m better equipped mentally to dedicate time to prepping and healing from the surgery

i’m really excited to do this! and document it, i hope it can help a couple of people out. i’ll make a few more posts about how i came to the decision and what i’m looking to get done along with the steps i took to get insurance approval and scheduling, the paperwork of it all lol

(also if any one knows an andrew who lived in the philadelphia area around 2012-2015 dm me, he is an online friend i’ve lost contact with)

#meta process #entry 0 #about

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oldschoolvpq · 3 years

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😇Tamagotchi Angel Speed Run (To Hell)😈

!!! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH VIRTUAL PET ABUSE !!!

The Tenshitchi no Tamagotchi/Angelgotchi/Tamagotchi Angel is a curious incarnation of the classic Tamagotchi series in that its multitude of hidden characters have some unexpected requirements to obtain them, ranging from perfect care (Twin Angels) to flat-out abandonment (faceless Lucky Poo).

Twin Angels resulting from perfect care. See? I can play properly.

The international version, the Tamagotchi Angel, also has a slightly different set of characters and birth/death scenes. The most heinous omission, in my opinion, is the "worst" character Debirutchi/Deviltchi. Something about angels being okay but veering clear of Satanic references in overwhelmingly Christian countries like the US? Localization is a can of worms we'll open another day.

My boy Deviltchi (in multiple!) with Sabotenshi, a hidden character removed from the international version and replaced with Smiling Angel for some reason? As featured on 1998 Sealdass "Pastel Tamagotchi Series 2" card 6.

From my understanding, in the Japanese version you can easily get Deviltchi during the baby Obaketchi stage through turning the lights off during the day, healing the illness (curse?) that results, rinse and repeat around 5-6 times until it transforms.

Well. I tried this on the US version and...um, let's just say this is the fastest I've ever played a Tamagotchi. Special thanks to my Uratama who graciously acted as timekeeper.

Here's how it went:

21:31:00: Born

21:31:36 Sick after turning lights off then on

21:31:51 Healed

21:32:06 Lights off

21:32:40 Healed after turning lights back on

21:32:57 Death spiral

21:33:14 Bad End

It should be noted that during the death spiral, instead of turning into Deviltchi, it alternated between the somewhat terrifying "sick" Obaketchi and a solid black egg.

Yikes.

So, just over 2 minutes from birth to death...which might have been even faster had I not been photographing each stage. For reference, I played a full 15 days on my last run with the Twin Angels.

My Japanese Angelgotchi is currently being repaired, but once it returns I plan to run this experiment again to see if I can get "Twin" Deviltchis on two different classic Tamas. Stay tuned?

EDIT: A second run went EVEN FASTER, and I managed to kill it in under a minute. Next time I'll see if I can get it on video...

#tamagotchi #tamagotchi angel #tenshitchi #angelgotch #angelgotchi #tamagotchi humor #bad owner

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blkmxrvel · 4 years

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Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (19) - [CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

It seemed that she had spent the last three hours pacing her living room floor. Every now and then Kara would stop and squint downward, to see if she had worn a path in the carpet. And then she would glance at the door. Finally, she’d start pacing again. It had been the same routine since eight that morning. Her mind hadn’t rested since two twenty three.

Since she’d called Y/N.

“A-are you all right? Do you n-need anything?”

“Yes. Yes, Y/N, I do need something.”

“You’re not hurt, are you? Sick?”

“I need you to come see me. So we can talk. About everything. Can you do that for me, Y/N?”

“Okay, Kara.”

“Come to my house at eleven tomorrow morning? Not a moment later or earlier.”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t too late to back out, Kara thought. It was only 10:50, she still had ten minutes to come to her senses and put an end to all of this. It would be so easy just to tell Y/N that she was sorry things had turned out the way they had, and that she wished Y/N luck with finding a Dominant worthy of her.

But damn if Lena’s words kept replaying themselves in Kara’s head, over and over like a prayer.

Kara, you’re more than good enough.

And Kara kept seeing Y/N’s face, hurt and lost as it had been that day three days ago when Kara had buttoned up her coat and adjusted the collar, then sent her out into the rain. Away from her, away from them. She thought of herself, how big and lonely the house felt once again, even with Theo sticking close to her side because he was remarkably good at sensing her sadness. Kara thought of Y/N, of kissing her and holding her close, of wanting to see those Y/E/C eyes looking at her with love and trust.

And even before she heard the soft knock on the door ten minutes later, Kara knew there would be no way she’d back out.

Still, her hand trembled on the knob as she pulled open the door. But if Kara was nervous, Y/N was even more so, as she couldn’t even bring her eyes up to meet Kara’s. But she finally did look at her after a long minute, her gaze searching and unsure. Kara smiled, and slipped her hand down to grasp Y/N’s, locking their fingers together.

“You’re not wearing a coat,” she said softly, pulling the girl inside and closing the door behind them, locking it. “It’s cold out; I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I forgot,” Y/N said with a shrug. “I’ve kind of been anxious all morning? So I guess I just didn’t think about it.”

“You too, huh?” Kara’s smile didn’t waver; she willed it to be more reassuring, wanting Y/N to lose that uncertain expression, because it hurt. Seeing Y/N wary of being with her made something twist in Kara’s gut and she’d do anything to be rid of it.

“Come on, why don’t you sit down, I’ll make us a drink. Hot chocolate?”

Y/N sat and giggled a little as Theo immediately pounced on her with licks. “Hot chocolate sounds really nice,” she said, giving Kara a genuine smile, and Kara’s heart fluttered.

She made the hot chocolate quickly, listening as Y/N baby-talked Theo in the living room, and her hands shook less as she carried the two mugs back and handed one to Y/N. “Down, you big oaf,” Kara said, gently pushing Theo to the floor. “I want Y/N time too, I’ve missed it.”

The mug paused halfway to Y/N’s mouth. “You have?”

“I have,” Kara nodded. “It would be an understatement to say that I have grown rather fond of you, but other words seem to fail in describing my current emotional state.”

“You could try using less of them?” Y/N rolled her eyes, one corner of her mouth turning up a little as she took a sip of the hot chocolate.

Apparently Lena had been right; Kara really had met her match. It made her giddy, the thought of it, even as she pouted only slightly at the mild insult; but one look at the sparkle that had suddenly returned to Y/N’s eyes and Kara realized it was going to be easy to fall fast and hard for this brat.

“I’ve missed you,” she said honestly. She took a long drink of the hot chocolate, trying to use the heat of the liquid to muster up enough strength to say what she needed to. But Y/N stopped her before the words even came.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, sounding on the edge of tears. “I’m sorry I was so disrespectful, I’m sorry I tried to push you, I’m sorry I was so awful, I—“

“Y/N, stop.”

This was not how she wanted this to go. The time for apologies would come soon enough, from Y/N at least, but the time wasn’t right then. Kara set her mug down on the coffee table and shifted on the couch so that she was sitting facing Y/N. Y/N was looking at her, almost frightened, a few stray tears trickling down her cheeks. Kara flexed her fingers, then reached up and brushed the tears away with her thumbs.

“I’m scared.”

And there it was, the two hardest words Kara Zor-el would ever say in her life. Even harder than “I’m sorry,” because she’d gotten quite a lot of practice – and baking experience – out of those. They were words that she’d always felt she wasn’t allowed to admit, even though that had been the first thing Lena had stressed to her – that if you didn’t admit you were scared, you could never learn to be strong.

And the other thing Lena had taught her: If you’re not strong when she needs you to be, your relationship will never work.

“Of what?” Y/N asked, sounding surprised and more than a little confused.

“Of everything?” Kara shrugged. “Mostly…” She toyed with her hands in her lap, and then glanced up when Y/N grasped her hands in hers. “Mostly of never getting to New York. And mostly… of this. Us. What if I mess everything up between us?”

“I’ve already messed things up between us.”

“No.” Kara shook her head. “No, you haven’t. I should have talked to you, I should have told you everything I was feeling and instead I… shut you down.” She’d have to tell Lena she was right. Again. Damn it.

“I’ve thought about New York every day since I was four. Then I turned eighteen and well, you know. I am incredibly used to doing my job and not thinking about how much I wish I was on stage. Then this Y/H/C haired Y/E/C eyed brat walked – well, rolled—“

“Hey!”

“—walked into my life, and now look at me.” Kara shrugged. “You’ve made me want everything just that much more, you’ve made me want you more than anything, and I am terrified of messing everything up and ending up with nothing.”

“Or…” Y/N spoke softly, haltingly, her gaze never leaving Kara’s. “You could stop looking at it as you doing it all. Maybe it’s… you and me against the world, Kara, like two awkward superheroes who only win the battle if they’re together. If we have each other, maybe we’ll end up with everything.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a dork?” Kara sniffed, not realizing she’d been crying until she reached up a hand to wipe at her eyes. “I mean, you’re adorable, but you really are quite a dork.”

“Just you, Kara.”

“Well, I’ll be quite happy to be the only one.”

“So does this mean…” Y/N trailed off, and Kara’s heart melted, seeing the hope written all over the girl’s face.

She took a deep breath. “I need you to choose a word. Or a phrase. Something that you would never find yourself using in every day conversation.”

It was now or never. Stay or jump. Sink or swim. Fall… or fly.

“I don’t understand,” Y/N said, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Just a word or a phrase, sweetheart. But I need to know what it is.”

“Um… Barbra?”

Kara blinked. “You are not using The Streisand as a safe word, Y/N Hastings.”

Y/N gaped. “S-safe word?”

Jump. Swim. Fly.

Kara nodded. “There are so many things we have to work out,” she admitted, “And I’m not going to use this dynamic with you anywhere but in my home. This means in public, or when you’re alone at Nia’s or out with friends, you make your own decisions and you don’t answer to me.”

“But—“

“No, Y/N. That’s the way this is going to work.” Kara turned one of her hands over and squeezed Y/N’s. “You still have a lot of healing to do, and… so do I. There’s a big world out there waiting for you, and I want you to discover it all. But I-I want this with you so much, and if you still do then… maybe we can try.”

She let her words rest there, as if she had put all of her cards out on the table and was now waiting for Y/N to fold. There was silence, nothing but the quietness of Theo snoring over on his mat in the corner, and Kara felt herself begin to panic. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe Y/N didn’t want this after all and had only come over to tell her so. Maybe Y/N would leave in a huff and they’d never see each other ag—

“Supergirl.”

Kara blinked. “Supergirl?”

“For my safe word. Supergirl.”

“Supergirl,” Kara repeated dumbly, watching as the corners of Y/N’s mouth quirked upward into an amused smile.

“That is what I said. Supergirl.”

“You do realize I’ll never be able to see any DC production the same way again, now?”

“Yep.”

“… brat.”

“But I’m your brat, Miss Kara.”

She gave out something that sounded between a half-laugh and a half-sob; those two words had never sounded more like the most beautiful music in the world to her ears. Miss Kara. She hadn’t even realized how much she’d missed them. How much she’d missed her. And now Y/N was looking at Kara with a mixture of apprehension and contentment, and Kara moved quickly to hug her, to press her lips against the other girl’s. She’d have been happy to kiss for hours, to hold Y/N in her arms for the rest of the afternoon as they just kissed, softly and gently, but then Y/N pulled away with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Y/N?” Kara fought down the panic, the fear that Y/N was already changing her mind.

“I was so rude to you…”

“What? No you weren’t,” Kara said, confused.

“Yes, I was,” Y/N insisted. “When I left… what I said to you, I was so disrespectful, Miss Kara.”

“Oh, that,” Kara said, feeling relieved. “Y/N, we were both incredibly stressed out. It’s all right, really.”

Y/N shook her head. “It’s not all right to me. I haven’t been able to stop t-thinking about it. You’re so good to me, and I treated you that way… it’s not all right.”

Kara thought she already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. “What would make it all right, Y/N?”

She looked away. “You know what would.”

“I want you to tell me.”

“If you punished me.” Y/N’s voice was small, taking on a tone that Kara had never heard before, and she’d be lying if she said it didn’t send a pleasurable thrill over her skin.

“Are you sure?” Kara pressed, wanting to give Y/N every available out she possibly could. Once they did this, there would be no turning back. There would be no chance for Kara to stop herself from doing anything that could potentially hurt someone who was slowly becoming one of the most important things in her life.

She focused on Y/N, looking for any signs of discomfort as the girl bit her lip, but then Y/N took a deep breath, drawing herself up, and nodding.

“I’m sure, Miss Kara.”

Kara nodded herself. “What’s your safe word?” she asked.

This time, there was no trace of amusement in Y/N as she responded, “Supergirl.”

“Good.” Kara thought for a moment. “Go to my room. There is a bandana sitting on top of my desk. I want you to get it and bring it back to me.”

The change in Y/N was immediate as she stood. Kara had never seen the girl fall into herself so easily, had never seen her eyes so steady and her steps as purposeful as she said “Yes, Miss Kara,” and walked to her bedroom.

In seconds – seconds that seemed to take too long – Y/N was back, the argyle bandana fisted lightly in her hand. She held it out to Kara, but didn’t sit down when Kara took it.

Kara laid the bandana next to her on the couch, and then paused. Knowing that Y/N was watching her every move, Kara grabbed a pillow from the couch and sat it on the floor at her feet. She looked up at Y/N.

“Will you kneel for me, Y/N?”

There it was, the last out. A request, not a demand. The chance for Y/N to leave, for her to establish a clear boundary between herself and Kara. By the quiet inflection at the end of the question, Kara was telling Y/N that it was okay for her to decide, it was okay for her to make the choice that what they were doing wasn’t right for her.

Y/N met Kara’s eyes with her own, and slipped wordlessly to her knees on the pillow. She trembled, her head ducking and her hands moving to grasp her wrists behind her back.

Kara stood up, bracing herself momentarily on the arm of the couch, because her own legs were shaking so that she could hardly stand. She stayed next to Y/N for a moment, looking down at her, studying her form, before shaking her head. Reaching down, she gently untangled Y/N’s hands from themselves and brought them to the front, resting them palm-up atop the blue fabric of her dress over her knees. Y/N’s fists were clenched and Kara slowly, carefully unclenched them, leaving the girl’s hands open. Offering. She cupped Y/N’s chin in her hand and lifted her face so that Y/N was looking at her.

“Head and eyes up,” she said softly.

“Yes, Miss Kara. I’m sor—“

“Shh.” Kara touched Y/N’s lips with her index finger. “You’re doing just fine, Y/N. It’s all right.”

She stepped back a little to study Y/N again, and caught the flicker of insecurity that touched Y/N’s face. Kara smiled and reached to run a steady hand through Y/N’s hair.

“You,” she said, pronouncing each word firmly and carefully, “are so beautiful, little one.”

“Thank you, Miss Kara.”

The flush of Y/N’s ears to a deep pink told Kara that she had said the right thing. She stood there for another minute, lovingly stroking Y/N’s hair, before sitting back on the couch in front of her.

“Hands on my knees, Y/N, and look at me.”

“Yes, Miss Kara.”

Immediately Y/N did as she was told, looking at Kara with eyes that were wide and trusting, and Kara felt as if her heart was being shattered into a million pieces and being rebuilt even stronger, all at the same time, over and over again. She wanted to cry, to fold Y/N into her arms and hold her, but there would be time enough for that. She had to focus on Y/N’s needs, now; her own could come later.

“Limits?”

“Miss Kara?”

“What are your limits?” There’d be time to work on a comprehensive list later on, but Kara needed to know immediate ones.

“D-don’t hit me,” Y/N said, her voice faltering a little.

“I will never,” Kara said quietly. “You can trust me on that, Y/N.”

“All right.” Y/N took a breath and her hands tightened briefly around Kara’s knees. “All right.”

Kara leaned down and softly kissed Y/N’s forehead. “Do you know why you’re being punished, little one?”

“Because I was disrespectful to you the last time we spoke, Miss Kara.”

“That’s right,” Kara said. She looked into Y/N’s eyes. “Do you know why that hurts me?”

The look of shame was instantaneous, as were the tears that began to fall. Kara’s immediate instinct was to stop everything and pull the girl into her lap, but she struggled against it. Y/N needed this, needed Kara to establish her command, and everything they did from this point on would be for naught, if Kara didn’t take control.

“I—“

“Hush.” Y/N went silent immediately, her gaze darting to Kara’s hands as she picked up the argyle bandana and began to fold it. “Open.” When Y/N hesitated, Kara said, more firmly, “Open your mouth, Y/N, now.”

Y/N did as she was told and in seconds she was gagged, the bandana tied lightly but securely around her head. Her hands trembled violently on Kara’s knees, and Kara settled her own on top of Y/N’s.

“If you need to safe word, you will put your right hand on top of your head, is that understood?”

Y/N nodded.

“For years he took away your voice,” Kara said quietly. “He took away your right to speak your needs, your desires, and your fears. Everything. And when I came to visit you at the House, what did I want? For you to talk to me. I came every day, just because I wanted to hear you talk.” Kara leaned forward, saying evenly, “I will not tolerate disrespect, Y/N Hastings. When you speak to me it will be without attitude. I have not worked so hard to hear you speak, I don’t love your voice so much just to have you talk to me the way you did. Remember what it’s like not to have a voice, Y/N, and adjust yourself accordingly once this gag is removed.”

Y/N was crying fully now, the tears coursing down her cheeks and wetting the gag; Kara blinked back her own tears as she stood up, feeling Y/N’s hands slip from her knees. “Come with me,” she said, but stopped when Y/N moved as if to crawl behind her. “No,” she said, gentling her tone and leaning down to grasp Y/N’s hand.

“Stand up and walk, Y/N.” She picked up the pillow on the floor in her other hand, and led Y/N over to a far corner in the living room. She sat the pillow down, and pointed.

“On your knees, Y/N.”

Once again it was effortless, and Kara gently pressed her hand to the back of Y/N’s head, guiding her nose to the wall.

“I want you to stay there and think about your attitude, and how you can better express your emotions when you are under duress.”

She moved to walk away but was stopped by hands gripping at her waist, at Y/N shaking her head, garbled sounds coming from around the gag and her eyes wide with fear. Gagged or not, Kara understood what she was saying.

Don’t leave me.

Slowly she pulled Y/N’s hands away from her and once again guided the girl to the wall. She kept one hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“If you want to safe word,” Kara said, “You know how to do it.”

She waited, but Y/N’s hands didn’t move from her sides. Kara could feel Y/N shake as she cried, and her heart ached. None of her classes had really prepared her for what it would be like to punish a submissive, and all she really knew about it she’d learned as a sub, with Lena. She knew she had to be strong, unyielding if there hadn’t been a safe word, and most importantly, she had to be there.

“I’m right here, little one,” Kara said tenderly. “You’re okay. Just stay there and think about things, okay?”

She felt Y/N go limp, felt her slump against the wall, and she smiled a little. She waited thirty seconds, and then dropped her hand from Y/N’s shoulder. She moved back, just a few steps, watching as the tension rose in Y/N’s body.

“I’m right here,” Kara said again, and again Y/N went limp, even as she was still crying.

She was beautiful, Kara thought. So breathtakingly beautiful, knelt in the corner with her blue dress bunched up around her knees and her slim, delicate hands once again slipping behind her back. Her eyes were closed, her lips tight against the gag in her mouth, Y/H/C hair almost melding with the white fabric of the cardigan she was wearing over her dress.

She looked, Kara thought, like an angel.

Moving back again, she sat on the coffee table, her eyes trained on Y/N. She watched as the girl grew a little restless, watched as Y/N dared to sneak a look over her shoulder. Kara raised an eyebrow when Y/N saw she’d been caught leaving position and she snapped back around to the corner, a flush rising at the base of her neck. Kara fought off a giggle.

“I’m right here,” she said once more.

After a few more minutes, Y/N had stopped crying, and all the tension had left her body. She was leaning against the corner now, relaxed, her breathing coming deep and shallow and for a moment Kara wondered if the girl had fallen asleep.

“Y/N,” she called softly, and the girl lifted her head. No, she hadn’t been asleep. “Come here, Y/N. Bring the pillow with you.” Kara didn’t wait to see if Y/N obeyed her; she knew she would, and so she got up from the coffee table and went back to the couch. By the time she had sat down, the pillow was on the floor and Y/N was kneeling in front of her.

Kara reached up and quickly untied the gag, pulling it from Y/N’s mouth. Y/N licked her lips but said nothing, staring at Kara. Waiting for instruction.

“Do you have anything you wish to say to me?”

“Yes, Miss Kara,” Y/N said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I was disrespectful to you.”

Kara nodded. “And will it happen again?”

“No,” Y/N declared. “Never.”

Kara just barely managed not to roll her eyes; of course it would happen again. It was one of those things that would always happen, she knew. But that was all right. They’d deal with it. In the meantime, Y/N was still staring at her, waiting, expectant, and Kara leaned down, wrapped her arms around Y/N, and kissed her.

“Good girl,” she murmured against Y/N’s lips. “That’s my good girl.”

Y/N’s arms came to wrap around Kara’s neck, clinging tightly as she pressed her face into Kara’s skin, once again crying softly. Kara tugged until Y/N came off her knees and climbed onto the couch, settling herself into Kara’s lap. She rubbed Y/N’s back, stroked her hair, once again saying those words, over and over.

“Good girl, Y/N. Good girl.”

And then Kara was pressed back into the couch with the force of Y/N’s sobs, loud and anguished, and she had the sudden realization that something had just broken. It wasn’t the punishment, it wasn’t what they were doing, it was Y/N feeling, lost in the fact that no one had ever held her after a punishment before. Kara suddenly knew that Y/N was lost in memories of the past, of other punishments, and that something had awakened in her and now Y/N was… She was grieving. Grieving for the past, what she had thought her future would be, the child that was and the woman that was only now allowed to be.

Kara kept her arms strong and firm around Y/N, remembering herself just after her first punishment with Lena, how Lena had held her close, whispering reassurances in her ear. But Lena had never dealt with this; Kara had never been broken. And now Kara felt helpless, powerless to stave off the sobs that wracked Y/N’s body in wails and hitched breaths, and as she kept stroking her hair and trying to whisper words of comfort, Kara finally reached for the one thing she knew better than breathing.

“There were bells on the hill, but I never heard them ringing,” Kara sang quietly, pressing her lips close to Y/N’s ear. “No I never heard them at all, till there was you… “ She began to rock Y/N, smiling a little when Theo leapt up onto the couch and laid his head on Y/N’s leg, looking at Kara mournfully. She’d have to give him a treat later.

“There were birds in the sky, but I never saw them winging, no, I never saw them at all, till there was you…”

Her voice was stronger now, clear, as if she wasn’t singing in her house but on a stage in New York, to an audience of one. And Y/N was calming, her hands fisted in Kara’s shirt, her cries gradually subsiding as she listened.

“And there was music, and there were wonderful roses, they tell me, in sweet fragrant meadows of dawn and dew…”

Y/N had lifted her face now, hiccupping quietly, but she was smiling, and Kara gently brushed the tears away with her fingertips, kissing her. She held Y/N’s face in her hands, smiling at her as she sang the last lines.

“There was love all around, but I never heard it singing. No, I never heard it at all, till there was you…”

She touched Y/N’s lips with hers in a soft kiss before pulling the girl’s head back down to her shoulder. Never mind that it was probably too soon to say the word love. Never mind that she still wasn’t sure what they were doing was the right thing. Never mind that there was still so much for them to talk about, rules to establish and limits to set. Never mind that she had no clue how she was going to dominate Y/N only in her own home, but not in public or anywhere else. Never mind that she felt her stomach growl and she remembered she hadn’t eaten breakfast, because Y/N felt it too and was giggling against Kara’s neck, and all Kara could do was hug her tighter.

She’d once thought she’d forgotten how to sing.

Now there was Y/N.

#kara danvers #kara zor-el x reader #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #kara zor el #supergirl #supergirl x reader #supergirl au #madi converts

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jtsfavslut · 4 years

Text

Stages [5/6]

Description: In which a girl goes through six stages to realize and accept the fact that her marriage is going downhill.

Stage Three: Depression

- Stages 1

- Stages 2

- Stages 3

- Stages 4

Description: Yeimy finally has a conversation with Grayson, and comes to terms with herself that she had been putting off for a while. But what happens when she finally realizes everything is over?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.1k+

Work was something that was keeping you distracted from what was currently happening in your life.

You were able to clock in and out whenever you wanted, but being in the office made you forget all of your problems.

You knew avoiding your feelings and problems was wrong, but you weren’t ready to come on terms with yourself or reality at that.

The sound of your phone’s notification made you stop writing an article you were working on about fashion business etc.

Grayson Bailey :/

Meet me in my office at 6, please :(

You stared at it for a couple of minutes, debating whether or not you should go, or ignore him.

Me:

Kay.

That was your response. A dry ‘kay’. You knew it annoyed him when people responded to him with that. Something about him feeling ignored, but you didn’t care. Not anymore.

The sounds of ‘Summertime Sadness’ by Lana Del Rey, were blasting through your Jeeps speaker as you awfully sang along, meaning every word of it. (I was listening to this while writing this and all I can think about is the vine with the chicken wearing the red dress.)

“What is it, Dolan? Don’t waste my time,” you said walking inside his office his eyes scanning over your small Robbie wrap dress (this is the reference cuz I suck at describing) you were wearing along with your docs.

“Yeah, umm-” he said, clearing his throat and taking his eyes off your body. “I signed the papers,” he softly said, handing you the folder you had given him a few days ago.

“Thanks,” you awkwardly said as your hand accidentally touched his while grabbing the folder.

“Can we talk, Yeimy I-” he began saying before you cut him off.

“There’s nothing to talk about Bailey, you banged my friend that’s it,” you sighed, getting up from your chair as your patience started to die down.

“Yes, there is. There is Yeimy. There’s my side of the story,” he said making you roll your eyes.

“You have ten minutes Grayson, ten minutes,” you said looking at the overly priced Rolex he gifted you for your One Year Wedding Anniversary.

“Okay. Thanks,” he said and let out a sigh before he opened his mouth to speak again.

“I know nothing justifies what I did. At all” he said and you nodded your head taking a seat once again. “I don’t know why I did it. I don’t even remember how it started if I'm being honest. All I know is that it was really dumb of me, and that caused me to lose you, the only one that cared and loved me when no one else did,” he said and your eyes started to water as you tried your hardest to stop them from falling.

“And she doesn’t compare to you. She doesn’t in any way. You’re better than her in every single way. God, you hated when I bought you stuff, saying how you didn’t want or need my money while all she wanted was things. And I was dumb, so fucking dumb Marie,” he said calling you by your middle name causing a tear to stream down your face.

“Grayson-” you began saying before he cut you off.

“No, Yeimy let me finish. I know you don’t believe or trust me anymore but trust me that when I tell you that I love you is because I do. I love you with all my fucking life, and I never meant to hurt you. I never did. So I signed the papers. I signed the papers because that’s what you want and what you need.” he said and you looked up to him crying with red watery eyes and a frown.

“You were, and still are the reason why I’m here because you supported us-no me, you supported and stood by me when everything was going downhill, and you helped us bring the company back up. You stayed awake with me every night thinking of ways to attract business, thinking of new products, making ads, and articles, scheduling interviews and doing interviews just to help me and E,” he said. Remembering the many nights you and him stayed awake when Wakeheart wasn’t having a good time with the business. You did everything in your power to help bring the business back up, you promised him you would. And you did, in just a couple of months, Wakeheart’s sell rates were through the roof, just because of you.

“I did it because I loved you. And I still love you,” you sighed, carefully wiping tears away, even if they were gonna continue to fall.

“I don’t know what was going through your fucking mind Bailey, but at least you came to your senses now. Even if it’s too fucking late,” you said with a little laugh causing him to smile.

“Grayson I’m always going to love you, but you hurt me. You hurt me in the way I was most scared to get hurt in. I’m a firm believer that once you love someone and it’s real, your love for them will never go away, you just have to find someone who you’ll love even more.” you said as he watched you with a pained smile on his face.

“I don’t think there’s someone who I’ll love more than you,” he whispered and you nodded your head.

“Me too Bailey, me too, but I don’t trust you anymore and I can’t be in a relationship with you pretending I trust you when I don’t. Just because you hurt me doesn’t mean I need to hurt you,” you sighed. “Time will hurt and time will heal, it’s just a matter of patience and right now I’m running out of patience so I’m gonna go,” you sighed standing up before you fully broke down in front of him.

“Just remember that we’re still married by the church so thank the Catholic church for that,” you laughed causing him to chuckle.

“Why are you always funny, like it’s the worst time of my life and you’re making me laugh,” he asked while shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“I’m a funny person Dolan. And plus you only live once so why waste my time being mad, plus I know I’m gonna be depressed later so YOLO,” you said with a peace sign a goofy smile on your face hiding away your crumbling heart.

“YOLO,” he whispered, shaking his head.

“Take care of yourself, Grayson, I wish you the best,” you said walking to the door.

“You too Yeimy, I hope everything works out at Vogue,” he said and you nodded your head before walking outside and closing his door.

Hot mascara filled tears streamed down your face as you walked through the building and to your car.

Once you got inside your car, you let out a loud sob as you slammed your hands on the steering wheel.

The realization just kicking in. It was done. Everything was done, you were no longer married to the love of your life, as you drove away, you drove away from the love of your life.

“BUT I CRUMBLE COMPLETELY WHEN YOU CRY,” you shouted at the top of your lungs, singing along to 505 by Arctic Monkeys, your glasses hiding away your raccoon eyes caused by your ‘waterproof’ mascara which clearly lied.

You pulled up to the beach with the same song on repeat, something about it makes you feel slightly better.

You got out the driver's seat and sat on your trunk looking at the ocean.

Letting out a sigh that everything was over. Not everything just your marriage. Because when you told him, that you were always going to leave and no one else would compare, you were admitting it to yourself as well.

Grayson always made you happy, just knowing you were in the same room as he made you smile. Grayson was, and will always be your everything when it comes to relationships and dating. He was your rock, the one who took care of you when you were sick, even when you thought you didn’t need anyone. He stole your heart the first second you watched one of their videos when you applied for the internship. He and Ethan were one of the nicest men and human beings you ever met, and when he would flirt with you, you’d blush like a psycho.

Everything about him was so perfect, and your life with him was so perfect until he had to go fuck it up.

But you didn’t blame him for all of it. Ambar had something to do with it too. She was supposed to be your friend, hell you were the one that made Grayson give her the job. You vented to her about how you thought he was cheating on you, just for her to be the one he was doing it with.

You laughed at the thought of Ethan and Karina telling you she had bad vibes but you just pushed them away. Every time they told you that she did the same thing you did just two days after. If you got a new purse she would buy it the day later, a new dress? She was wearing it two days later. And when you would tell them about the things Grayson bought you, that you told him you didn't need, Karina would tell you about her angered facial expression and you would just tell her to chill.

You thought it was sad and funny that you realized that she was trying to be like you in every way possible this late. You just thought she was inspired by you, but she wasn’t. Deep down in Ambar’s heart, she hated you. She hated how you always seemed happy. Hated how the way you would talk about Grayson made him seem like there was no other girl in his eyes that was as pretty as you. She hated how you were always a good person. Hated how you would help anyone, even if they weren’t the nicest to you. And she hated how simple you were. She knew Grayson would give you the world if you asked for it, and she hated how you didn’t take advantage of it.

So she tried to ruin your life. Her jealousy got the best of her and she knew that by taking away the thing you love the most, it would balance out the universe and make you suffer. But she was wrong, because by trying to hurt you and being successful at that may I add, she lost a true friend, her job, her other friends. She lost everything leaving her even more miserable.

But she got what she wanted. Because now you were sad and heartbroken. Your life is missing a big piece of it.

You cried for three weeks straight. Every day before, between, and after work. You cried every day. Cried because you missed him. Because you missed home.

You missed being around him. Waking up in his arms. His forehead kisses. You missed waking up to him blasting Lil Wayne in the morning when he went to work out in the basement. You missed joining his workouts for less than five minutes because it was too much for you. You missed hearing his loud voice. You missed his laugh. His jokes. His un-funny jokes that you would still laugh at because it was funny he tried. You missed him trying to speak Spanish. You missed the flights to Jersey and sleeping in the laundry room because he wanted his alone time with you. You missed the car rides with him that were filled with music. You missed falling asleep on his chest. Trying out his new recipes that were sometimes a fail. Making cookies or just baking with him in general. Going to restaurants with him. You missed him teasing you about the way you were moaning from his touch. You missed the way he made you feel when he was fucking all the knowledge out of you. You missed laying in bed with him.

You missed him.

It’s been almost a month since you last saw him and you were feeling as if you were going through withdrawals.

Withdrawals because she took your drug away. Because the universe took your drug away.

Withdrawals because he was your drug.

Grayson was your drug.

Stages 6

Tags: @angelgrayson @rhyrhy462 @333dolans @vinylhazza @foxglovedolan @dolanissues @mercurygrant @persistence-ofmemories @dolansficsandpics @blindedbythelightt @kinkygrays @pineappledols @the-evolution-of-stupidity @evergreendolan @beatement-l @graydolan12

#Stages #Grayson Stages #grayson #grayson bailey #graysonbailey #grayson dolan #grayson dolan imagine #grayson x reader #grayson blurb #ethan dolan #Ethangrant #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan x reader #ethan dolan blurb #dolan #dolan twins #dolan fandom

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ceescedasticity · 4 years

Text

outline: jin guangyao’s hoarding problem, part 1

I am STILL NOT WRITING THIS.

Cast:

Jin Guangyao, schemer extraordinaire. He’s got a lot on his plate right now, scheming for the Jin Sect’s advancement, scheming for his personal advancement within the Jin Sect, trying to get Qin Cangye to let him marry his daughter, trying to juggle his sworn brothers, wrangling weird 13-year-old Mo Xuanyu who his father dropped on him as some sort of power play, wrangling Xue Yang insofar as it is possible to do so, promoting research into demonic cultivation, and on and on and on. Jin Guangyao, as no one will ever let him forget, was not born rich; he understands that you can’t just go throwing things out when you might want them again later; and in this universe he’s let that reluctance to discard outweigh his caution.

Wen Ning, conscious fierce corpse. Keeping Wen Ning was always the plan, even when plans to control him didn’t quite work out. Because he’s a really good conscious fierce corpse. Maybe they’ll work out controlling him someday. Maybe he’ll be good as an example. They went to a fair amount of trouble faking his destruction, so no sense wasting that. (Wen Ning, for his part, is… not happy. Even when they’re not trying to control him, he is not happy. But he is not making trouble if he can avoid it, because…)

Wen Qing, really outstanding doctor. Jin Guangyao cannot understand why his father was planning to execute her – she’s such a good doctor! Groundbreaking! Sure, she has some inconvenient morals, but she’s simple enough to leverage, just grab some family members – Wen Ruohan kept her in line for years. Why would Jin Guangshan not try to obtain such a valuable resource? It’s probably because when he looks at a woman he stops after the boobs. Anyway, now Jin Guangyao has the opportunity, and it’s easier to fake her death than Wen Ning’s (just have to kill a heavily bruised woman in Wen robes, rather than something that passes for a fierce corpse). She can be kept in line just by threatening Wen Ning’s non-life as the stick, and for a carrot, taking the nails out of his head when they’re not actively experimenting. (Wen Qing is sick to her stomach. Although not everything she’s been required to do is bad–)

(Off stage, but alive, is Jiang Yanli. Jin Guangyao likes her more than he likes most of the Jin Sect, he didn’t want her dead – and whisking her away to a mystery doctor who saved her life means Jiang Wanyin owes him. Big. —He doesn't want her angling for any kind of power/regency after Jin Guangshan dies, so he's been making sure there are plenty of rumors that she's physically and mentally fragile, and his leverage over Yunmeng Jiang is better with her in Jinlintai so he's angling to maintain that, too, but unlike that other idea he's not blackmailing her. This is probably a mistake.)

Wei Wuxian, Yiling Laozu. Smuggled back to Jinlintai at least half dead, and really wanted to get all the way there. Didn’t really change his mind on that until after he got conscious enough to process that (a) Wen Qing and Wen Ning were alive(ish), and might be punished if Wen Qing couldn’t save him; (b) Jiang Yanli is alive, but in Jinlintai, which means not safe. Even after he’s trying, though, he’s in for a long convalescence – especially without a core. (Which Jin Guangyao has figured out and, worse, figured out the reason for.) Wei Wuxian is claiming he couldn’t possibly recreate the Stygian Tiger Seal outside the Burial Grounds and/or without all the pieces and/or while he’s still so weak. The last one is true, the others are… not completely false? He certainly couldn't make it like it was before.

Mo Xuanyu, weird 13-year-old. Inexplicably if usefully devoted to Jin Guangyao. Jin Guangyao doesn’t trust him to do more than some very basic reading on demonic cultivation, but when the secret prison acquired the gravely wounded Wei Wuxian it became important to have someone other than Xue Yang checking on things, refreshing supplies, and getting Jin Guangyao immediately if necessary. Mo Xuanyu also likes Wei Wuxian, and Wen Qing, and Wen Ning, and (for some reason) Xue Yang. Not enough to impact his devotion to Jin Guangyao, though.

Xue Yang, spite elemental. (This Xue Yang has never worked for Wen Ruohan – I may keep the Yin Iron in this universe mashup, it just had no particular connection to Xue Yang.) Half feral (at least). Demonic cultivation natural talent. Delighted to have the opportunity to independently recreate the Stygian Tiger Seal, not that it stops him badgering Wei Wuxian for tips. Big fan of “better to ask forgiveness than permission”. No, that’s not it. Big fan of “better to say ‘yeah, I did it, what are you gonna do about it?’ than ask permission.”

WQ, WN, and WWX are full-time imprisoned in some sort of secret dungeon/basement/hidden complex in Carp Tower. MXY and XY are in and out a lot. JGY less so because he has a busy schedule.

So, moving forward:

Wen Qing is trying to keep WWX alive. WWX is cooperating halfheartedly.

Xue Yang is trying to recreate the Stygian Tiger Seal. WWX is cooperating hundredthheartedly.

JGY picks up that WWX is not being entirely sincere in his cooperation. He decides to show that his threats have teeth, in a very mild way. He plays some 'healing music' for JYL.

JYL has a bad week.

WWX becomes somewhat more cooperative.

(JYL is aware enough of her own body and mind and has enough of an ear for music to say — extremely politely, and not implying (or suspecting!) any malice — that she thinks JGY may need a little more practice.)

(JGY decides he needs to be a little more conservative with his use of the Collection of Turmoil, and maybe, say, not teach any bits of it to people who are not definitely on his side, no matter how innocent and gullible he thinks they are.)

(Nie Sect's trip to the Sword Hall can't be said to go well by any stretch of the imagination, but it's not an almost-TPK either. No one unwittingly kills or spiritually poisons anyone they love. It doesn't make much difference in the timetable of NMJ's decline, really. It doesn't make as much of a difference as you might expect in the timetable of NHS Figuring Shit Out, later on. It does make a difference in the experience level and cohesiveness of Nie Sect's inner-ring disciples. It does make a difference in NHS's emotional health and support structure. It may in fact make a difference in whether JGY is going to get out of all this alive. But that's later.)

When the reconstructed Seal is mostly complete, Xue Yang takes off to Yueyang to "test" it. He may or may not have informed JGY first. Let's go with 'not' (not out of any concern that he'd disapprove, Xue Yang just doesn't want to bother).

So here's the thing. The Seal is not a loyal tool. Insofar as it has a consciousness and feelings it's kind of pissed off at WWX anyway. But he is still its original creator, and this time he's alive, and this time he was extorted into helping reconstruct it, and this time — unlike when he was forging it the first time — revenge doesn't even really make the motivation list, so it's not quite the same reconstructed Seal. It's not a benevolent tool. It doesn't like people. It doesn't want to help people. It doesn't have principles. If Xue Yang just stood outside and ordered fierce corpses to slaughter everyone in the Chang compound, the Seal would have cooperated eagerly.

But obviously Xue Yang isn't about to just stand outside, he goes in and gets his hands dirty, and when he tries to use the Seal to directly, personally attack a child, something goes… sideways. There's an explosion which blows a large hole in the side of the house. Some of the corpses attack Xue Yang. The Seal levitates six meters up into the air and won't come down until grabbed. It's very annoying. Xue Yang makes sure there's no one with a golden core left and sets the building on fire and leaves in a very bad mood.

There are only like a dozen survivors total, no adult cultivators, and the one surviving kid who saw him is too young to give any kind of useful witness statement, but still.

He goes back to the basement and blames WWX for the unsatisfactory performance of the Seal. WWX's response of "Good" didn't deescalate things any, but he probably would have gotten the shit kicked out of him regardless.

Someone interrupts before he can actually beat WWX to death (which had better not have been WWX's plan, says WQ). Right. No core, already seriously injured. Xue Yang gets Wen Qing, who has to do surgery for flail chest. Xue Yang makes a surprisingly good surgical assistant.

JGY gets back from wherever he was (Qinghe playing fake!Clarity? Laoling trying to get a date?) and is like. I was gone for two days.

Xue Yang does not deny almost accidentally killing the only available Yiling Laozu, but blames it on WWX being too fragile due to being coreless and injured.

Maybe if we gave him someone else's core he would be sturdier?

Jin Guangyao doesn't immediately shoot it down. Wen Qing tries to — WWX would never survive the procedure in his current condition, and the donor has to be willing, does JGY really want to sacrifice someone loyal for this questionable gamble?

No, he doesn't. At least not right now.

Xue Yang says he's taking time off. JGY tells him not to get caught.

He gets caught.

Trial, commutation, official imprisonment, and now Xue Yang is stuck in the basement with the others basically full-time. He's seriously trying to convince Wen Qing to teach him surgery. She's appalled, but on the other hand would surgical skills make him any more dangerous than he already is? And it keeps him from sticking nails in Wen Ning's head.

While she's distracted Wei Wuxian is trying and failing to convince Wen Ning and/or Mo Xuanyu that he is recovered enough from the flail chest to walk around. He is failing.

Jin Guangyao is spending a lot of time in Qinghe…

#other fic #things i'm not writing #more random mdzs thoughts

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