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wososcripts · 4 months

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Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

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You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training.

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself.

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust.

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were.

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line.

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode.

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run.

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you.

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it.

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room.

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that.

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag.

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message.

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right.

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you.

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely.

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question.

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina.

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?”

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing.

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.”

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean.

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger."

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message.

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here.

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls.

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said.

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone.

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered.

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—"

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping.

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?"

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself.

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge.

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you.

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct.

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased.

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped.

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent.

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her.

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty.

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone.

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?”

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was.

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down.

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly.

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?”

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry.

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.”

You went silent, thinking.

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage.

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her.

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.”

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view.

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill.

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed.

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.”

Stina felt you nod against her skin.

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer.

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten.

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.”

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength.

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.”

You took a breath,

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe.

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.”

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off.

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!”

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her.

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.”

You refused to meet her eyes.

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look.

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.”

You burst into tears again.

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world.

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating.

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much.

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain.

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder.

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope."

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

#woso x reader #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #stina blackstenius #woso #woso community #arsenal x reader #swewnt x reader #my writing #i hope this satisfies some of the stina girls #and happy new year (belated lol)

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zukkaoru · 5 months

Note

"Lay your head on my shoulder and try to sleep." for any ship u feel like! <3

have some uhhh [spins wheel] pre-relationship kunidazai! post-doa arc with a mention of kunikida having hand tremors bc asagiri was a coward to take his hands away and then give them back without any consequences

warnings: referenced bsd-typical violence & guns word count: 1046

There was a very logical and predictable series of events that led to Dazai and Kunikida sitting in an otherwise-empty waiting room while Kyouka is in surgery. If Dazai had paused for a second to think things through, it could have even been prevented. But he hadn’t, and Kyouka got shot while out on a case that she was only called in for because Kenji had to make a trip home for a wedding, and Yosano is in Kumamoto on a case with Ranpo because they prefer traveling long distances with her as opposed to any of the other Agency members.

Dazai could have insisted Kunikida go with Ranpo, or he could have gone with Ranpo himself. He could have suggested Atsushi fill in for Kenji rather than Kyouka. He should have warned Kunikida that they guy they were after would have a hidden gun, but he expected Kunikida would figure that out himself. He hadn’t factored in Kunikida devoting more attention to whether or not Kyouka was harmed, since she doesn’t have Kenji’s super strength, because he assumed Demon Snow would work well enough as a bodyguard in Kunikida’s mind. But Demon Snow was fighting another ability user and in the split second Kunikida turned to ensure Kyouka was holding up on her own, their enemy pulled his second gun and fired.

Dazai should have been able to stop it.

Instead, he got a call from a frantic Kunikida, giving no more information than the hospital where they were taking Kyouka and what sounded like the beginnings of a panic attack before Kunikida promptly hung up the phone.

He was pacing around the waiting room when Dazai arrived. He plopped himself into a chair and waited silently, until an hour had passed and Kunikida was still anxiously pacing, at which point Dazai decided it was time to intervene. He managed to coax Kunikida into a chair, but he’s still bouncing his leg and twisting his fingers together and periodically pulling his notebook from his pocket just to mindlessly flip through the pages.

“She’s going to be okay,” Dazai says. He doesn’t know for sure, but he says it like he does because Kunikida always believes him when he speaks with such certainty.

Kunikida sighs deeply. His leg starts bouncing faster. His hands are shaking even worse than usual—something that happens when he’s stressed or anxious. He doesn’t say anything in response, which is unlike him.

Dazai purses his lips. He doesn’t like being expected to comfort people, because he isn’t good at it. He doesn’t understand what is wanted from him, and he always seems to say the wrong words. But seeing Kunikida like this is so unnerving that he has to try something.

“Kunikida-kun,” he says, as gently as he can manage, “worrying won’t help.”

“I know,” Kunikida responds tersely.

“Kyouka-chan would want you to get some rest,” he tries.

Kunikida ignores him.

Dazai is running out of things to say. His eyes roam over Kunikida, searching for another option, and his eyes settle on the loose strands of hair that have fallen from his ponytail. Actions speak louder than words, right?

“Turn your back to me,” Dazai instructs.

Kunikida just looks at him warily.

“C’mon,” Dazai grins. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do not,” Kunikida tells him, but he turns his back to Dazai anyway. Dazai loosens the hair tie, then pulls it from Kunikida’s hair. Kunikida makes a vaguely disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, but he doesn’t start yelling, so Dazai will take that as a victory.

Dazai runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair, detangling it as best as he can without a brush or comb. Kunikida’s hair is thin, almost silky despite the bleach and dye hiding his natural hair color. Dazai doesn’t know why he chose to color his hair blonde, but trying to picture Kunikida as a brunet is even worse than questioning his life choices.

Dazai spends longer than necessary just letting the soft strands fall through his fingers, reveling in the feeling of it. It’s a strange sort of vulnerability, requiring far more sacrifice on Kunikida’s part than on Dazai’s. It’s the only sort of intimacy they’re good at.

But Dazai is not the sort of person who can grab hold of nice things and keep them, and Kunikida could never want someone like him. So he gathers Kunikida’s hair into one hand, and ties it back up into its typical style, then draws his hands back towards himself.

Kunikida lets out another sigh, but this one is significantly less stressed. If Dazai didn’t know better, he’d almost say it sounded fond.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Dazai hums noncommittally. “It’s late,” he notes, because it was past sunset when he got the call and Kyouka’s been in surgery for hours. “You should get some rest.”

Kunikida turns to face him. “What about you?”

“I wasn’t the one on a case this evening,” Dazai points out. “C’mon, just lean your head on my shoulder and try to sleep. I’ve heard human contact helps calm your nerves.”

Kunikida looks skeptical, even though Dazai is about 95% sure that one is true.

“I’ll wake you if they come with news about Kyouka-chan,” Dazai promises.

Kunikida relents. He lays his head on Dazai’s shoulder, and only then does Dazai realize this may have been a very, very, bad idea for him. Because Kunikida is just using him as a pillow, and Kunikida thinks he’s just trying to be a good friend. But Dazai wants something else—something Kunikida will never give him—and now he’s getting a taste of the thing he craves so desperately he’d tear his own heart from his chest in order to get it, knowing it will never be his.

But Kunikida does finally fall asleep, even though he should have no reason to trust Dazai like this. Dazai removes his glasses and sets them on the empty seat beside him. He runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair once more and whispers a, “Sleep well,” he knows will go unheard.

Dazai wants this to be something he can hold onto forever, but forever is not a thing he is capable of, so he’ll be content with having Kunikida in his arms for just this one moment.

#kunidazai #kunikidazai #kunikida doppo #dazai osamu #less than an hour left until i am freed from this car ride whoooo #actually it hasn't been that bad but my laptop is dying and also i want to stretch my legs #ty for the ask!!#slava tag #grace's writing tag

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thelaughtercafe · 4 months

Text

Discoveries

Tea Type: Subtly Sweet Tea (Fluff with a sprinkle of mean/mocking teasing)

Potential Triggers: Nothing except suggestive tickling, and speaking of it!

Pairing: Emet-Selch/Reader, eventually Ascians/Reader

Length: 935

Summary: A tickle fic with the Ascians because I couldn’t help myself. Reader is Azem, but they’ll go unnamed. Each Ascian will get their own oneshot, so far it’ll be Emet, Lahabrea, Elidibus and Fandaniel and then I may have a timeskip to an Emet/WoL scene, in the future. I am now caught up with Endwalker but wasn't at the time so apologies if anyone seems ooc. I may rewrite it later on to update it.

“You put in quite a peculiar request at the Bureau of the Architect, I hear.”

You whirled to glare at Elidibus before averting your eyes dismissively, already on the defensive from where you had once been enjoying your afternoon tea in peace.

“Oh? And how would you know such information? All creation matrix are to be private unless otherwise allowed by the creator.”

“Oh come now. You needn’t be so shy. I think it’s adorable .”

Despite the seemingly kind words, they were biting and mocking, thick with judgement.

You opened your mouth hesitantly, trying to think of what to say next when a smooth voice interrupted.

“That’s quite enough mockery Elidibus; I do believe one of Lahabrea’s pets has gotten loose and is seeking to devour the other. A tragedy, to be sure.”

You heard Elidibus scoff before he left without so much as a nod at Emet-Selch. Said Ascian shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

“Such discourse. Tsk tsk. Very unfitting of the Emissary in our ranks don’t you think?”

“You didn’t have to protect me. I could’ve handled him, really.”

Your voice was soft, but only out of anxiety. Emet-Selch was typically the one person you didn’t have to be anxious with, but given he stood up for you that meant he knew exactly what you were being taunted for.

“Please just tell me no-one else knows. Please.”

A beat of silence and you heard him sigh as he joined you on the couch, creating a cup for himself as well.

“…No-one else save the 3 of us are aware, to my knowledge. I already erased it from the records. But; I feel I have the right to ask.”

You knew he would. You tensed expectantly, eyes locked on the now empty saucer and cup on your table.

“…We’re both adults Emet. Please, for all of creation, don’t make me say it aloud. I’m mortified enough as it is.”

“Elidibus is wrong about a lot of things. He wasn’t about this.”

That made you look at him in shock. His eyes and voice were both too gentle to be lying.

“You talked about it together?!”

He nodded, smiling ever so slightly at your shock.

“He meant what he said, you know. His tone came out as such because he was both nervous, and slightly annoyed you weren’t looking at him. I can read the man like a book by now. He knew he messed up which is why he fled. He was blushing darker than you are right now as I pointed out what he was doing. It really is adorable.”

The mischief you were worried about seeing from him jumped out as he tried to clamp down on the grin tugging at his lips.

“If you wanted to be tickled all you had to do was ask, you know. Either of us would’ve been happy to. Lahabrea too.”

You gave him a deadpan look at Lahabrea’s name and he snickered.

“Lahabrea had better not know about this. He’d never let me live it down.”

“Oh come now I’m sure he wouldn’t mind!”

Emet-Selch chirped way too happily for your liking and you groaned.

“…He already knows, doesn’t he?”

He smiled, unflinchingly.

“I may have caught him getting a glance at the book before I could get rid of the evidence so in all likelihood yes, especially given the grin that lit up his face.”

“Kill me now.”

You let your body roll to the side so you could rest against him, hiding your blushing face in his robe.

“I’m fairly certain he’ll take care of it for you ere long. Knowing him, he’ll likely corner you once he has a plan in mind. My assumption is he’ll pretend he doesn’t know until you accuse him yourself. You know how he is, always keeping the ace in his pocket.”

You risked a glance at him, slightly amused as you began to relax thanks to his nonchalance.

“…Any chance we can teleport him elsewhere for an impromptu vacation? Or maybe you feel like helping me get something embarrassing about him in turn?”

He chuckled at that, shaking his head as he looked down at you from the corner of his eye.

“Sure. I could . But I assure you wielding such information against him would only serve to set him on the warpath against you, and if you think him cruel now in his machinations what he next inflicts will make the prior child’s play in comparison. He may not show it; but he does actually like you, as all in the Covenant do. He just shows it in the most obnoxious way conceivable.”

Emet’s grin turned sharp suddenly.

“Forget tickle machines - I’m quite sure literal tickle monsters would be much harder to contend with, combat prowess or no.”

You tensed up as he brought it up explicitly, pulling back to pout at him.

“Why do you have to say it? You know how flustered I get. Mean.”

He snickered at that before shrugging.

“Not my fault you make it so easy. I propose an idea. Why not choose between the 3 of us? That way you at least won’t be ambushed out of the blue.”

You reeled back in shock at that.

“Who-Who said they’d even want to? Or that you would for that matter?!”

He rolled his eyes and huffed in annoyance.

“I assure you; I do, as do they. And even should they change their mind, they may decline when we gather to tell them your choice.”

His eyes twinkled in amusement, and he patted your cheek patronizingly.

“Do choose wisely.”

#tlc: tickle fics #tlc: subtly sweet tea #ffxiv tickle fic #emet selch x reader #emet selch x you #elidibus x you #elidibus x reader #lahabrea x you #lahabrea x reader #final fantasy xiv tickle fic #fandaniel x you #fandaniel x reader #female reader #tickling #tickles #tickle #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14

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skylarstark4826 · 20 days

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“If you are my friend, help me, to leave you. Or if you are my lover, help me, so I can be healed of you. If I knew, that the ocean is very deep, I would not have swam. If I knew, how I would end, I would not have began.” - Letter from Under the Sea, Nizar Qabbani

Shuri had stopped believing in the ancestral plane. Also, maybe in some part, the ancestors. Maybe because she’d been jealous. Jealous when her mother or Okoye spoke about how they'd heard or seen or felt T’Challa. While she had not. So she chalked it up to it not being real. They were consoling themselves which was normal and expected, but the ancestral plane wasn’t real. Otherwise, why would he come to them and not to her?

She remembered waking up from her journey after drinking the Heart Shaped Herb and thinking that she’d wasted it. In her anger. In her sorrow. She’d wasted it. She wished to see her brother the most. But, as tales of old tell, the journey to the ancestral realm does not show you the ancestor you want to see, but the ancestor you need to see. She felt now that perhaps she wasn’t meant to see Killmonger because she had to listen to him, but so that she could see how destructive and volatile her rage could be. To disobey instead. Or maybe not. She didn’t really know. Even now.

It had been months after Wakanda’s battle with Talokan. After her battle with Namor. She wasn’t entirely sure why she stopped at the end of the fight. When she’d been so close. It felt bad to admit, but she still wanted…someone to hurt alongside her. Even after staying with Nakia. Even after taking a break. Even after burning her funeral garments. Even after doing all the things she was supposed to do. She was still angry. Perhaps she would always be angry. Perhaps that was the answer she was looking for. She hated not having the answers. So, as she had been for the past several months, she tried to think of an answer on her way back to Wakanda.

She knew she’d have to go back. She was the queen now. Sometimes she thought about not being queen. Just letting that go. She never thought about ruling Wakanda before all this. Not even once. In theory, she was never supposed to. It was always supposed to be him. Just like he was supposed to be the Black Panther. She was that now too. Still, as much as she thought about letting it go, she felt she couldn’t. She could take a break, but at the end of the day, it was her responsibility. Her nation. She was its protector and she had to guide it.

Either way, she entered her lab first thing upon returning home. Everything else was hollow, but her lab still felt like it was hers. Ross was there, waiting. The man stood with his hands folded in front of him, but instantly began to approach as soon as she arrived.

“Awesome. I knew you were getting back today. Listen, have you seen the news lately?”

“I just walked in the door.”

“Well, you do rule a nation now Shuri. And this is a little important. ”

He was a funny man. Always a bit on edge, matter of fact in a hesitant sort of way, typically a few steps behind but useful when he wasn’t. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow as she walked past him, checking her devices instead. She hadn’t shut him down yet and thus he took that as his sign that he could chuckle awkwardly and carry on.

“If you have watched it you’d know that America is pissed.”

“Aren’t they always?”

“Historically yes, but right now they are pissed at you. Well, Wakanda, but the point is they’re after you guys. A-And they’re not gonna stop. And since they blame you for the mining ship thing, other nations will probably be on their side a-”

His anxious tirade was cut off by another entrance into her lab. How she had naively hoped she might be alone here. Just until she could get settled enough to go to the throne room and start business. Now that she was back in Wakanda, business followed her. M’Baku interrupted Ross’ speech with a scoff and a playfully accusatory finger pointed in the man’s direction.

“Eh, you told me you would not intercept her! This is what happens when you trust the White man. Princess- Or- …Shuri, what has this man told you?”

Shuri sighed, massaging her temples, knowing all these conversations were important, but she hadn’t even been able to gain her bearings. She hopped up onto a table and swung her legs back and forth. What he had told her was that things were about as bad as she expected. She knew things would be bad. Sometimes, as much as she missed T’Challa, she resented him too. Resented him for telling the world about Wakanda. Maybe the way they did things before was wrong too though. Letting all those people out there like them be subjugated and crushed under the weight of colonialism when they could’ve helped those nations centuries ago. Perhaps this was their judgment for that. As far as she could see, Wakanda had not a true friend in the world. Alone.

“Told me that the American government is less than happy with us. Which I expected. I expect we will have to patrol for them and keep on our toes.”

“I agree. Though The Council and I…and Ross were thinking we might want to be more prepared. For bad things. Now I am not saying I doubt Wakanda’s strength, especially against their "technology”, but it is always better to be a few steps ahead.”

Not this. Not now. She could hear how M’Baku’s typically high energy and talkative tone began to slow and become more tranquil as he trailed off. Shuri was highly intelligent, that was kind of her thing. She could read between the lines. She just… Ross cleared his throat and rocked back and forth before finishing the thought that didn’t really need the extra help.

“We think you should meet with Talokan. With this Namor.”

“I figured as much. Just…let me get settled first and I’ll…try to summon Namor.”

M’Baku nodded dramatically, walking over to Ross and throwing his arm around the man’s shoulder enough to shake his balance. They started for the door as M’Baku rounded off the conversation.

“Right right. All the other reports from when you were away are already uploaded and when you want to leave you should contact Okoye-”

“I’ll go alone. I’m the Black Panther now, remember?”

Then she was alone.

But now her head was more crowded than before. In all fairness, she never really stopped thinking, but sometimes it could get too crowded. Too much at once. Everything she was already thinking of and now Namor. That was the only thing that she was supposed to do and hadn’t done. She hadn’t seen nor spoken to the man since their battle and their truce. Since she dragged him into the ocean with a hole in her own abdomen. Since they agreed to be as pleasant to each other as the events that got them there would allow. It would’ve been the logical and responsible thing to meet and discuss more formal terms of being allies or…something before the nation actually needed something. She hadn’t wanted to see him. She’d been angry before, but never as much as she had been during their fight and it frightened her. So she hadn’t wanted to see the person that made her like that. It didn’t matter regardless. She was always angry.

That day, she’d felt like herself and not. The day she almost killed him and started a much bigger issue with Talokan. It was odd that way. Her mother’s call had stopped her, but that was because it was her mother. Not because it was who she was. Shuri wasn’t…all too sure who she was anymore. She stared at the bracelet that had helped her figure all this out. Left in her lab all this time. Sometimes she wondered if he knew she’d be able to do what she’d done with it. Of course not. Otherwise, it would still be with him. As she looked at it and counted the beads despite knowing by heart how many there were, she noticed. Her mind was quiet.

The water was almost pretty. Pretty when she just took it for what it was. Water. Not so much when she thought about what, who , was in it. She held the shell so tightly the entire way there. She hadn’t even realized it until she stopped in the sands, no one around, and readjusted her grip in preparation to use it and felt her knuckles ache at the release of tension. She didn’t know how she would feel upon seeing him. She assumed the hatred would come rising back up, and as she brought the shell to her lips she was afraid. Not of him, she had beaten him in a fight and almost killed him after all, but afraid to be like that again. To feel the way she felt during battle. For Wakanda, she could put herself aside. Always.

She stood idly, watching the sun slowly begin its descent as the day drew to a close. It was taking longer than anticipated. It was entirely possible that he would not come at all. That he might ignore her. That their treaty meant they’d leave each other alone, but they wouldn’t be allies. She turned away from the water, shaking her head.

“You are impatient.”

Upon hearing his voice, nothing struck her. Not anger, not fear, not sorrow. Quite the opposite. She didn’t feel anything like a jab or a pull or something tightening. Instead, she felt the generally permanent tension in her body slide away from her. Relief. She was relieved. Why? She turned at the sound of the water’s disturbance and there he stood, water up to his knees, as regal as ever. He seemed neutral in his expression, but she could’ve just been hoping he wasn’t too upset so they could talk.

“I know how fast you are. I assumed you were ignoring me.”

“I was considering it, but here I am.”

“Yes. I wanted to finally talk about more formal terms of our truce. It was the baseline. It needs more.”

“I see. How fair and logical. Very like you.”

Shuri walked closer to the water while Namor exited it further. She looked down at his ankles, still obscured by the water. She wondered about his wing, but it would be bad form to ask. She was the cause of the injury after all. She tapped the shell with her index finger, not knowing how to ask without sounding demanding. Or weak. She didn’t want to come to him for anything. Yet, this was the calmest she’d felt in a while. Even with her mind still racing. As it always did.

“Ah. Something troubles you.”

Not the best opener, but she’d take it since he offered it. He seemed genuine in his calmness. She didn’t quite get it. Though, she didn’t understand her own either.

“The United States government is moving with attempts to destabilize Wakanda. I was wondering if we could count on Talokan. If need be.”

When her eyes met his, he didn’t really seem to be thinking about what she’d just said. He was just…watching. Watching her. What he was looking for, she couldn’t decipher. His eyes trailed lower and lower until they stopped. She was puzzled for only a second before lifting her arm and untying the bracelet from her wrist.

“I brought it to return to you. I’m sure you were missing it.”

He reached and took it from her, but when she went to lower her arm, he held it up to her. As an offer. Far more intentional than the first time it was given to her.

“It was a token of the hope that we could work together. Which we very well still might. It is still yours. Here.”

He tied it back onto her wrist and she furrowed her brows in confusion, shaking her head. She didn’t get it. Was he not upset with her? She was upset with him. He’d taken all she had left. She couldn’t feel it right now, but she knew it was there. Every time he wasn’t in front of her and she thought of him she could feel it with ease. Did he not?

“I expected you to be angrier.”

“Me too. I respect you though. You are a good ruler as I am. It was all fair.”

“Was killing my mother fair to you?”

“I do regret what it led to, but I promised her what I would do. I haven't broken a promise ever. I don't plan to. She died a noble death. She was a noble woman."

She scoffed and chuckled ruefully. She could tell he wasn't trying to push her buttons. Everything he said was just what he believed.

"Whatever. That's not what this is about. Will you be there if we need it?"

"Of course. My people aren't bitter either if you're wondering. Bothered, yes. But we understand that sometimes this is just the way of things."

"...Good. That was all. Hopefully, I won't need to see you."

She turned to walk away but there was the sound of the water sloshing behind her. He called out.

"Wait. I have something I need to ask you."

"...What is it?"

"Why do you hesitate? Now that you know what I've said about the nations here on the surface world is true. I can see your rage. It's still there."

She sighed because she had thought about it. It was one of the many things still on her mind. She was holding it back. She didn't want the world to suffer. She kept telling herself that over and over. She knew they wouldn't stop. That they wanted to hurt them and consume them the way they'd done other nations. Wakanda had not a friend in the world. Untrue. One. One friend.

"You don't get to tell me what I feel."

The sound of the water had gone back to the constant waves. She could feel him behind her even though he wasn't touching her.

"No. I suppose not. I know how I feel. I still feel hatred for the surface. I still feel determined to destroy it. I still feel that we need Wakanda's help to do that. That is what I feel. Now you tell me if you feel the same."

She hadn’t even noticed how close he was until she turned her head to see that he was right behind her, their faces separated by the smallest distance. She thought about T’Challa. About everyone else. What they would say. What they would do. What they thought was best for Wakanda. Then she cleared them from her mind and thought about what she would do instead. Not T’Challa. Not Killmonger. Not Mother. Not Father. Shuri. What would she do? How would she care for Wakanda? Namor circled around to stand in front of her in her moment of hesitation and she looked down at the sand and the shell still in her hands. She hoped she might find the answer she was looking for in a grain of sand. She shivered when something cold touched her chin, dropping the shell in surprise. Cold and wet. A hand. His hand held her chin and gently tilted her head up.

“It’s a yes or no question, Queen Shuri.”

No one had called her that yet. People were still in the habit of calling her princess or just using her name. It still felt strange to everyone else. When he said it, it sounded as natural as the way he soared through the air. She thought she would hate hearing people call her that, but the sound of it from his lips caressed her ears and tempted her pride. She knew her answer, but what would everyone think if they could hear it?

“Yes. I do.”

“Then why don’t we?”

Shuri raised her hand to his wrist to pull his hand away, but it just rested on his wrist instead. A loose grip. Hardly a grip at all. His hand slid to her cheek, fingertips brushing her ear, thumb hovering just above her bottom lip. It sounded so enticing. The thing that made it worse was the way he wasn’t trying too hard to sell it to her. To convince her. He didn’t need to. He must’ve known that. Perhaps it would be what she needed. To placate her vexation. She inhaled slowly and could smell the salt from his skin as she stepped a little closer. Though there wasn’t much closer they could be before they would touch. She felt like she was barely balancing on the edge of a cliff, rocking, and swaying, waiting for that one gentle wind to come by and knock her over the side. She didn’t know what would be waiting for her at the bottom of the cliff. Rocks, icy water, a current, nothingness.

“Because it’s wrong, Namor.”

“My enemies call me Namor. Please, if we’re at least allies now. Even if you recite things others tell you instead of what you’d rather say.”

Her mind was tranquil. Her thoughts were ordered and graceful. She felt so focused when he talked to her. It was the center of her focus that gave cause for concern. She could almost feel her heart fluttering. She’d already admitted what she felt. So why didn’t she? She took another step forward and there was no space left. She could feel the stray water droplets from his skin latch onto her clothes and retreat into the fabric. She didn’t feel conflicted when she only thought of what was the right thing to do now. Not what would’ve been the right thing before or to someone else. His eyes held no judgment. Only patience.

“...K’uk’ulkan. If I take the fight to them, will you help me?”

“Naturally.”

“Do you promise?”

He smiled and there was even the softest hint of laughter chasing right behind it. His thumb tugged at her lower lip gingerly as he hummed in what seemed to be contemplation. Every time she thought on him, she felt detestation. Now that he was in front of her it didn’t feel so simple. It was that same way, but only for a split second when she’d pulled him back into the ocean after their battle. Respect? Admiration? Did she feel safe in the sense of being able to relate to him? Even now as the feeling seemed to be drowning her, stealing her breath, accelerating her heart rate, making her hands unsteady, she couldn’t place it.

“I promise you, Your Majesty. Would you like to seal it?”

Oh.

He looked at her mouth after his last sentence and back at her. She’d answered question after question with less and less room for thought between each one. Yet, her mind became more and more clear.

“Yes.”

So they did. The first kiss was chaste and cautious, but there was another. And another. And another. Each one longer than the last. In that particular moment, she felt nothing in the way of uncertainty or fury. She’d wanted him to kiss her, but she still didn’t know what it was she might call the mysterious emotion that had filled her lungs. Whatever it was, she’d be fine to drown in it.

“Love is an anguish, a question, a luminous doubt suspended. It is a desire to know the whole of you and a fear of finally knowing it." - Love is an Anguish, Xavier Villaurruita

#nashuri #namor x shuri #shuri x namor #namor and shuri #namor of talokan #shuri of wakanda #king namor #princess shuri #nashuri fanart #namor x shuri fanart #black panther #black panter wakanda forever #namor mcu #namuri

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luchicm04 · 28 days

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lost in the forest - part 22

Masterlist

Summary: A formal meeting is called upon and Karen comes face to face with her guests' long lasting enemies.

Pairing: Senju Tobirama/Original Female Character

Tag: #lost in the forest fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 3.1k

So, as some might've noticed, I changed the title of the fic because I realized that accent in the original title was a mistake. The author probably made an error and mistook the words 'pérdida' and 'perdida', meaning loss and lost, respectively.

Also, there are many errors like that during all the fic, so that's why I trying to be careful when translating. Otherwise, many sentences would make no sense and the story would lose its charm. I bet that's happened to more than one who has read a google-translated fic.

I remind you that English is just my second language, not my mother language. If there are any mistakes in the words, pls notify me so I can change it.

Overall warnings: canon-typical violence, adult content, time skips, angst, kidnapping

A demure white yukata with a delicate braided hairstyle that highlights her foreign features. The clothing is completely different from all the ones she has owned since she began participating in the affairs of this clan, simple and modest that radiates the main plan they are about to sign before the eyes of the nobles and lords of these lands.

Karen feels out of place, but there she is, looking up at the exit door where she can notice a Hashirama talking to the insurance council giving warnings to eb careful, a common thing for fear that this is a trap.

Nobody believes that it is that simple to formalize peace, which makes her sigh.

“Be very careful.” Mikami has gone to see her off with a sleeping Matsuo. Her eyes are fearful.

“I’ll be fine, I’ll just be a witness,” she says with the excitement of being out for the second time... she has a nasty taste in her mouth about it, but she thinks it’s too positive to think it will be different. Karen has faith in it.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll go alone with Tobirama and Hashirama,” she reminds her friend in an attempt to divert her own fear. She gives a needed hug almost waking up the kid. “Remember that I’ll be back soon... for Matsuo-kun's future, right?”

“Fine.” She looks doubtful but accepts. “Tobirama-sama,” she greets the austere young man who blinks slower than usual in their direction to accept the greeting with slight seconds of distance.

“Are you ready?” Oblivious and firm, the leader’s brother comments, accepting the greeting while Mikami leaves with a slow stammering, more so because the child began to cry and there are many people around anxious about this income.

“Yes,” she sighs, looking at her own clothes. Just like her, he is wearing something simple in white colors. “I guess transportation for me is too much to ask, right?”

“We do not have time to waste... on your type of transportation,” he frowns with the ‘you’re stupid’ to which she doesn’t retaliate.

“I was hoping you had some kind of carriage,” she sighs, disappointed with the type of response she gets. “Tamamo-san, Jenshi-san,” she greets two of the councilors who approach.

“Greetings, young Karen-san... Tobirama-sama. Can we talk?” He asks her partner, who raises his eyebrow firmly.

“You already talked to Hashirama, you do not have to talk to me,” he says, noticing that there is some tension in this regard. She supposes these are things that remain after several days of internal hostility for what peace meant.

Letting the death of others be in vain, according to them.

“Yes, but we would like to cover some topics with you,” Tamamo comments with an arch, looking at her. “If you would excuse us.”

“Alright... I’ll go with Hashirama.” Karen is almost about to leave but her head is slightly stopped by a rough movement from her partner, with those firm red eyes that she doesn’t dare move.

“As I told you, you already spoke with Hashirama,” he comments more seriously than normal looking at the two elderly people who look irritated. “The war will end with this. A step forward for the future.”

“You know what we think about it.” Jenshi looks annoyed, but lets out some venom, not caring if she listens. She looks at Tobirama with slight doubt, without letting her go completely. What does he want her to do? It’s not like she can do anything.

“The blood has already been spilled. It is not necessary for new generations to grow up with a war whose beginning we do not understand,” Tobirama replies in his own way what she already said before, which surprises her, and she does not avoid looking at him with her eyes slightly open. “Is that not right, Karen?”

“War has always been this complicated, for those who do not forget, for those who lost a lot... leaving all that behind so that the future is promising is difficult,” the civilian states, doubtfully adding to this conversation in which she did not want to participate. She hates her position, but she clings to her spot despite the bad faces of the elders. “But that does not mean it is impossible,” she sighs slightly. “Trust Hashirama, with the fact that achieving this has been a success.”

“A civilian would not understand,” one of the elders responds bitterly and confidently.

“A civilian who knows about wars,” Tobirama adds without missing a beat.

Karen remains in her place without knowing what else to add in this peak of severe wills. She gulps, staying put out of pride and foolishness. She has the need to run, which itches down her back... however, there she is, in the middle of three men who could easily kill her and throw away her body.

Ironic. Where are her self-preservation instincts? …ah yes, she forgot about that for a long time.

“I just hope this does not turn out worse, that those Uchihas do not bite our hand,” Jenshin spits arrogantly, as if that clan wasn’t more important than them... a different class.

“They are shinobi, humans like all of us. I am sure they have also given in to this because they have lost a lot too, right? So, do not discredit that.” Karen is a little bitter about the way he said it. This is how internal conflicts start. “And I would like to make something clear... when the council begins to plan something behind the leader’s back, I assure you that it will be the certain fall of its power.”

“A threat?” Tamamo frowns.

“I am a civilian. I cannot threaten but indicate what I know from the experience of other nations,” Karen raises her gaze. “And it would be sad if the Senju clan became lost due to your own arrogance... due to your own pride in leaving things behind to work together for a better future, something that both Hashirama and Tobirama have worked so hard for. Do not make it ruin itself just because a few do not want to leave the past, to build a future without stopping learning from it.”

The two old men look at each other and then turn around without any comment. Tobirama doesn’t say anything.

“I think they both no longer want their grandchildren to propose to me,” she says sarcastically, without a hint of joy.

“Did you want to marry them?”

“It’s sarcasm,” she sighs as she rolls her eyes, because the joke is lost on its own.

“...” The albino looks at her for a long time.

“Ask away,” she insists before the silence between them.

“Is what you said true?”

“What part?”

“About... the fall of nations?”

“Somewhat,” she explains with a light sigh. “But I think it can be worked on. If it’s achieved, this will be an advance for the future.”

“You sound so confident.”

“I have seen you work. Although stupid and difficult to understand, you have a good head... you are born leaders.”

“You do not fall behind.”

“Even if I’m a civilian?” The woman mocks.

“Even if you are,” he quickly accepts, without noticing the tone implied. Seriously, this man cannot take anything as a joke.

“Alright, it’s time to go,” Hashirama interrupts them when he looks at them with amused doubt. “Well?”

“Nothing is wrong,” his brother assures coldly. Karen feels she’s missing something and doubts seeing a strange gesture in the always shining man, that she falters when she’s swiftly carried as a princess.

“Warn before!” She complains when she is accommodated. Karen frowns at the distant man who ignores her, not avoiding screaming from the excitement of the speed of this technique. She closes her eyes and clings to the yukata with a chaotic thought of doing something about the transportation system.

This is not suitable for everyone.

She has vertigo.

──

The nobles are notable and now she sees why many doubt the invented title that Hashirama himself said when introducing her. The Fire Daimyo looks interested, with a pensative gesture. “Shinji-sama,” Karen says with neat etiquette reviewed by an ephemeral Mikami, who insisted on explaining to her in detail the type of environment that she would be surrounded with.

These nobles, as witnesses of this important step between chinobi clans, are an important piece to formalize the pact.

“Karen-san... strange name,” the man assures with a curious glow.

“Yes, a curious name,” the woman accepts without missing a beat. The place is spacious, with light traditional monuments and well-kept gardens. As they explained to her, it is one of the many houses of the young lord of these lands, located at some neutral point of the two shinobi families.

An agreement that they managed to obtain after so much push and pull.

“Do you have a last name? ...or your father’s name.”

“Huh?”

“You know, the house you belong to.”

“Ah,” she sees the point that she frankly missed, which makes her think about it. “Saucedo.”

“Sarucedo?”

“No, it is pronounced Saucedo,” she sighs at the error of her own town. The man blinks to laugh.

“It is not from around here.”

“No... it is not,” she states strangely. Karen had spent a long time without mentioning her last name, something that was lost among all the drama that has happened since her arrival.

“It sounds important.”

“Oh... well.”

“Hashirama says that you are a prominent noble. I mean, to be so hand in hand and get both clans to take a step for this.”

“He gave me a lot of credit.”

“It is remarkable. Do not discredit your work out of modesty,” the man says with a flirtatious smile. “So, do not despite yourself.”

“I do not, it is just that... well, many of the pacts and contacts were made by them, I only helped with some things.”

“Even so,” the nobleman gives her a discreet gesture. His clothes up close look soft, expensive and quite decorated, differentiating themselves from them, who come in white clothes. “I am surprised that a noble like you, being a civilian, would still help them. A notable step for the Saucedo house.”

“Uh...” She doesn’t know what to say because of the formality, it sounds different. “It is a step... that it had to do to achieve this... for its future.”

“You have a point. However, many do not take the time to do this, you know?”

“I imagine. You are all busy people.”

“I am not just saying this because of the time. Girls do not do this,” he points out amusingly. “But that makes the flower more interesting, you know?” He takes a step forward. “One that I would like to add to my harem,” the man says direct and sure of what he wants, almost making her cough loudly, but she holds back for seconds and smiles with an uncertain shine.

“I am sorry to hear that, but the Saucedo house is in disgrace. I do not think my father is looking for any kind of outside help at the moment, it is not customary,” she quickly invents, letting herself be carried away by her lie.

“Are you sure? ...I can give a dowry for adding you.”

“Not at all. We do not manage ourselves by dowry, but by the ability of the child.”

“You are skilled. You would be a very good woman in my domains, and I assure you the Saucedo house will greatly improve its status by relating to the Shinji house, of the Fire Daimyo.”

Finding herself in trouble, Karen sighs. “I apologize... I appreciate the gesture, but the truth is... this is more complicated than I want to explain.”

“Oh, I see.” The man looks understanding. She doesn’t know what kind of story is drawn in his mind, as if he understood why a noblewoman stays with the shinobi. “Whatever you wish. If you accept and are not defiled by any of them,” he says with a slightly contemptuous tone towards the shinobis. “I would like you to consider me,” he adds smiling.

Karen wants to leave already... she wants to hit this man, but thank all the gods, the missing clan arrived.

The Uchihas are more imposing and wilder than the Senju family, she is sure of it when she sees their leader, whose mane is abnormally spiked and explosive, along with another young man with a dead look. Both look at each other to go where the Senju were waiting with their flag.

The beginning of this formality.

──

Peace is a difficult thing to reach, maintain and manage... which she can notice upon approaching as one of the not-so-neutral witnesses. Karen is glad to be away from the gaze of a terrible Daimyo, who continues to insist that her family must consider marrying her.

Hashirama looks worried but has placed her next to him with a worried gesture. “Are you alright?” He questions in English noticing how Mr. Shinji now is with the leader of the Uchiha clan.

“Yes,” she answers with a sigh. “I just finished tightening the rope on the figurative neck with your ‘noble’ lie... you know?” She huffs tired of socializing so much. She sees the man’s doubt, that is clearly reflected in his face. “Apparently, I am a noblewoman from the Saucedo house, that is in disgrace. Don’t ask why... the point is that the man thinks that adding me as a concubine will fix this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah... but don’t worry, I invented other things about my family and why my father can’t talk to him,” she points out, proud of getting at least a little out of this mess.

“I’m sorry I left you with him.”

“You have better things to deal with,” the woman dismisses to look around. “He looks imposing... more than Mikami told me.”

“Madara?”

“Yes,” she accepts with a curious look. “Although, I think his hair is to be envied. Just like you, you have lots of it.”

“Out of everything that happened and the exchange... you are interested in the hair?” Hashirama mocks slightly, less tense than at the start.

“Of course, it’s remarkable,” she shrugs, not at all guilty. “I’m glad this turned out alright,” she says, looking at the man next to her. “That your dream, or at least a part of it, was achieved.”

“If you hadn’t been here... I assure you it wouldn’t be possible,” he declares firmly, with an emotional sparkle in his eyes.

“Not at all. I’m sure you’d manage to do it some way,” the woman declares and then looks at a bitter Tobirama, who doesn’t take his eyes off the other Uchiha. Both look noticeable hostile, but with no intention of throwing the first kunai. “They don’t get along, do they?”

“They are natural enemies. Unlike Madara and I, they... it’s complicated.”

“I see,” she sighs to focus again. “Can we go now?”

Hashirama laughs and then looks at Madara, who stares at them from his place. The Daimyo looks proud for a few seconds, stating again how important this will be for his nation, and how it would trigger more clans to follow their example.

Making Karen learn that it’s not just the Senjus and the Uchihas in this world.

A noticeable and fearful thing for the simple civilian, who only lets herself go with the flow.

Great... right?

──

The celebration would take place in a week, which has turned the clan into chaos between arrangements, security and more. Karen sighs with a basket of vegetables that she just helped collect, because they are all taken aback in an unprecedented event. The Uchiha clan would come, as part of an important exchange that has everyone anxious.

To the point that even she has been put to work.

Tobirama watches her from his spot, organizing some little ones to clean an old room in the main house, catching up with her with a slight frown. “I told you not to participate.”

“It’s not like I had asked for this,” she sighs, the basket that was too heavy for her taste being snatched away. She huffs embarrassingly for such a careless appearance, but maybe Granma Kaori forgot in her haste that she doesn’t have the same stamina as the other women.

“You are weak.”

“Thank you for reminding me...” She snorts indignantly, wanting to take the basket back. “Kaori-san needs them for the stew.”

“You are weak and clumsy,” the man adds bitterly, rasing said instrument. “As a woman of the Saucedo house, it is not convenient for you.”

“Are you mocking me?” Karen frowns at the impudence of using her last name in that tone. Tobirama ignores her to snort.

“There are too many things to do to deal with another bothersome civilian woman.”

“I am not a bother.”

“You are.”

“Are you seriously fighting with me instead of going to organize clan stuff?!”

The man stops in that passageway that goes to the main house. The garden is a little behind them and there are people coming and going with different activities. “I do not want you to come to the covenant dinner.”

“Huh?”

“You do not have to participate. You are not from the clan.”

“I’m sorry, but I think there is no negotiation in this. Hashirama said it was okay for me to go.”

“You are a civilian.”

“Yeah, and?”

“There will be drinks.”

“Alright, I see your point,” she bites bitterly, remembering that the last event didn’t go so well. She still feels the sting in her jaw and the anxiety of nightmares at night, which are calmed by knowing that she’s fine for now. “Couldn’t you say it nicer?”

“You are stubborn.”

“We both are,” she frowns indignantly to sigh and see that the basket would not be returned. “As part of the nobles, the Daimyo requested for me to be present at this event.”

“No.”

“Hashirama must have told you.”

“It is not negotiable.”

“Tobirama, I’m not asking,” she frowns. “It’s the peace that’s at stake and I know I’m a fundamental part of it, although I don’t want to witness this going out of context being used for something bad...”

“...”

“Mr. Shinji is sure that with me present, you will remember that it is a peace treaty,” she snorts, remembering that annoying favor that Daimyo asked of her. “At least he didn’t send one of his servants or notaries to confirm that this dinner will take place.”

Tobirama looks upset. “You say Hashirama knew.”

“Yes, he was present when he gave the warning, along with Madara-san.”

“Mmmm...” He doesn’t look happy, and he disappears with her basket. She growls because at least she hopes that he remembers where that basket goes, and that Kaori doesn’t scold her for not arriving with said vegetables for the stew. She sighs, not understanding what exactly happened but she’s so tired of pretending she’s not, as she’s been working so hard since dawn.

She needs a vacation, she’s sure of it.

A/N: A chapter to say present!! …and that this is opening the way to a certain foundation. As you will see, our dear OC has just invented a whole affair and an important family in disgrace that will bring her many problems as a noblewoman, something that perhaps will explode on her later.

Poor girl.

Still, peace has finally arrived. What will happen next? …that’s a good question, since now they need to organize themselves as an allied clan. The first step is trust and this was demonstrated by the Senju in giving them instructions to go to their clan for dinner, something that was not well received by many of the councilors... but they complied due to the tremendous imposingness of their leader.

Hashirama was firm and fearsome when he instructed that there was no turning back, so they reluctantly accepted. She still doesn’t know the Uchihas that well, our Karen only had a first impression. What will happen?

We will find out soon.

Author-chan out!

#lost in the forest fic #warring states period #angst #senju tobirama #tobirama x reader #tobirama x oc #ocs #hashirama senju #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto fanfiction #uchiha madara

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trashyslashers · 2 years

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Can I please ask for a slasher match up? 😇

I'm a female, using she/her pronouns and am interested in both, women and men.

I've got really pale skin (which I love), white blonde shoulder-length hair with the tips dyed dark purple on one side and dark green on the other, a few ear piercings, I'm somewhat curvy (which I'm not insecure about), around 5'5 high and I'm always wearing only black clothing with a gothic/punk/metal/alternative style.

My own love language is words of affirmation and acts of service and from others it's physical touch and quality time.

Meeting new people, being in crowded places and in the center of attention make me really anxious and uncomfortable. Although it's easier if I can rely and concentrate on someone really close to me.

I hate the summer, but love autumn and it's weather, aesthetic and flavours! My ideal day would entirely spend with a loved one ; cozy up inside, watch a movie, cook something together, maybe even bake, take a walk on a typical autumn day, cuddling a lot, listening to music and of course, laughing and enoying the time with them. Otherwise, I would love to do typical autumn activities with them!

I have deep emotions, but they tend to overwhelm me and I struggle with communicating and procressing them alone, which leads me to relying on others (annoying them with it) but also understanding others and the world around me on a deeper level. I believe that's also why I'm so accepting, supporting and open-minded.

I love to help others, I tend to always put their well-being before my own and try anything possible to make it easier for them and take some weight off their shoulders, to lighten up someone's mind and make their worries less overwhelming. To put it simply, I hate to see others suffering and will do anything to help them.

I'm the happiest when the people I love are happy, when someone truly listens to me, my thoughts and feelings.

I'm a very loving, warm and passionate person. I care about the people who're close to me and I will go to great length to help them. Furthermore, I'm ultimately loyal and would never betray or let people I love down!

I hate when people believe they can define or generalize what's normal or beautiful, boring or annoying, typical or effective. All these are personal views and usually I find beauty where others don't, enjoy unusualness and uniqueness and despise mainstream and stereotypical things. Being like everyone else or fitting into some kind of box annoys me so much!

The nightsky inspires and fascinates me, just as much as rain calms me down and fills me with serenity, passion and happiness. Though, my biggest passion is and always be music and I could never live a single day without it, it's like the air to breathe. I especially love (symphonic-,heavy-) metal!

I'm extremely shy, insecure and self-doubting, always believe that I'm annoying those around me. That's why I tend to distance myself and don't speak/act at all, in fear of embrassing myself even more. It helps if there's someone who helps, grounds and understands me in these times! With the right person, I can actually be quite sarcastic. Additionally, I'm terrible clumsy, always bumping against something, falling down or dropping something.

I firmly believe in the power of honesty and wish to be respected and accepted as much as I do show others.

My senses are pretty strong and my surroundings, especially combinated with my social anxiety, sometimes lead me to anxiety and panic attacks, which I obliviously hate and am ashamed of. I struggle to get out of them on my own, but to someone really close to me it's actually not so hard.

I really love watching movies and TV shows. To be honest, I prefer living in fictional worlds and daydreams over the real world. I'm especially enthusiastic about horror and fantasy. About fandoms I love, I could ramble on and on about forever. I'm literally incapable of stopping to talk and ramble, if someone wouldn't stop me, I would probably never shut up (at least as long as I'm really familiar with them, otherwise I'm pretty silent and reserved)

I'm living vegan and I'm really passionate about it! I wish to never ever harm an animal and to treat them with all the love my heart is capable of! If I could, I would help and adopt every single animal and care for them lovingly.

I'm quite clingy and like to be surrounded by everything that's even remotely that of someone who's close to me. If I could, I would spend every minute with them and feel as (physicially and emotionally) close to them as possible.

Here are some random things I love : animals (especially cats!), being physically close to people I love, the smell of a freshly baked cake, pale skin, moving in-tune with someone, people talking with passion and love, inside jokes, fuggy hillsides and landscapes, flowers growing in the cracks of pavements, long hugs, music loud enough to silence everything else, oddities, the purring of cats, thunderstorms, sharing earphones, movie nights, stepping into shallow puddles, open windows at night, freckles, perfectly worn-in combat boots, typical autumn and winter days, looking at the stars, seeing someone else's smile and joy, wavy hair, leather jackets, to feel truly calm and discovering similarities

I'm longing for someone to fall in love with me, accepting and supporting me just as I'm. I'm not easy to get along with and I'm used to feel like a outcast and weirdo, I believe that putting up with me is quite a burden, which I also don't wish to put upon someone. I don't need a lot of people around me, just one fully by my side is more than enough!

Thank you so much! 😊

Anon, I think you'd go well with...

Jason Voorhees!

Your ability to see beauty where others don't, coupled with your empathetic nature and tendency to put others before yourself is what drew Jason to you. The way you so actively seek to make sure those around you and those you care about do not suffer or feel alone is something Jason truly admires as he never thought he'd see such a thing from someone, given how such a person was absent in his life, apart from his mother.

Feeling as if one is an outcast is not something foreign to Jason. He knows - more than most - what it feels like to be fully rejected from society and other people as a whole. Regardless of the reason, it's not a pleasant feeling, and it's one that he can empathize with. In a way, he feels even more comfortable around you once learning that you, to a degree, know how it feels as well.

Words of affirmation are something he experienced very little of in his life time - and once again, what he did receive were only from his mother. The way you so readily tell him how much you care about, cherish, and value him and do so with what he can tell is genuine feeling behind your words stirs something in him he's never felt before.

And he's more than happy to indulge you in what makes you feel loved; he's very tall and very broad which makes it incredibly easy for him to hug, hold and cuddle you. When not out patrolling the campgrounds as he often does, nearly every moment is spent by your side.

Speaking of the campgrounds, it seems you enjoy many nature based things, or at least some. The campgrounds, as well as the cabin, are secluded and isolated, and so apart from the occasional gaggle of daredevils, trespassers, and nosey teenagers, it's just the two of you and the local wildlife. There are very rarely any interruptions in the serenity of the area apart from occasions during the summertime, and Jason wishes for you to be able to find peace in that. The view of thunderstorms over the lake is an incredible sight! Just please, don't get too close to the water.

You're vegan? No problem - although Jason no longer eats, there's plenty of space for at least a garden. Though you'll most likely need and want more than what you can grow there, he'll do what he can do keep you happy. Animals are something the two of you share a mutual respect and care for.

If you need someone to ground you in times of anxiety, Jason is your rock. Although to absolutely everyone else it's the opposite, Jason is able to be a source of comfort for you. He's surprisingly gentle when he wants to be, and he's quick to learn what helps you and what doesn't during your panic attacks, and is very attentive and patient when it comes to you. There's no need to feel pressured to speak when you're with him, but he loves it when you do, especially when you're rambling about what you're passionate about. It could never annoy him, even if he has no clue what you're talking about, and it warms his necrotic heart that you're sharing your passions with him.

Your sarcasm that comes about with your growing comfort is something he finds cute, and Jason definitely frets over you on your more clumsy days. He takes care to make sure your shared cabin (or your personal one, if you so prefer) is safe and that you won't get seriously injured on any sort of misplaced sharp object, or broken floorboard.

He appreciates the loyalty you display, and it's not because he has some sort of mistrust in you - rather, because it's unfortunately a very deep rooted insecurity in him that one day you'll wake up and you, too, will see him as everyone else saw him when he was alive, and how everyone sees him now. The regular reassurance you give him helps quell this on some of his bad days, and while it doesn't do so entirely, he puts his trust in your words.

Honestly, what more can I say? Jason would adore you. You and everything about you would make him feel safe and loved, and he'd strive to make sure you felt the same, with him.

#request #match ups #slasher matchup #slasher matchups #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #jason voorhees x reader

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angeltherubiks · 2 years

Text

A year on Testosterone

My journey as FTM began fully late oct 2018. That’s when I realized that I was indeed transgender. I was a little bit scared yet relived about this new development of my identity, but it didn’t take away the anxiety of it all. I worried what friends and especially family would think about me, and I assume the worst, excommunication, being disowned, going through the world moving forward alone, it is so scary especially cause I’ve heard so many others going through this fallout.

I’m happy to say it wasn’t the case, well at least with my friends. Some members of the family are having a hard time with it still, my dad especially but he was never queer friendly to begin with so I knew if all else, I would get backlash from him.

I officially started Testosterone mid July 2021. The changes I have gotten from T have been good, really good for me yet perplexing to some of my friends lol. The biggest change has been my confidence and anxiety. My confidence overall has gone up this past year and my anxiety has gone down. The best example was when I went to finally get my drivers license. In the eve of my drivers test my friend asked me how I was feeling about the test. I basically said I was feeling indifferent, not exactly that I don’t care but like, if I pass, I pass, if I don’t pass, I’ll just retake the test. It short circuited their brain cause they couldn’t understand how I wasn’t getting anxious about it. To be honest I did get anxious but only once the driving instructor got in the car.

Physically the changes I have gotten where what I was hoping for although some changes I was not expecting. Before starting T, me and my doc concluded that I have pcos so some changes most ppl would typically get in the beginning I won’t experience because I have already gotten it to an extent, which ended up being the case.

My skin became oily, I was dealing with acne to the degree that I had as a teenager. I started getting facial hair on my chin and it slowly made its way towards my neck. Right now, its working on my sideburns so im excited to see how soon my face can theoretically form a beard. Body hair wise the ones I do have have become longer and darker. No real change about my hair line other than discovering u can get pimples at the back of ur head from the extra oil the body is now naturally producing.

My voice has gotten deeper. I was already in an androgynous voice range before starting T so I could emulate a guy voice after warming up my throat a bit. A few months in T I noticed that it was becoming easier to fall into the voice range and a month or so later I got proper a voice drop. Its hard to say if it will continue to drop. Data I have gathered from the voice analysis app says im pretty much there and strangers in general don’t question my voice, even over the phone.

There are now things I understand as to why guys dress in a certain way. The main one being wearing shorts even though it is cold outside. Simply put, the body is hot on T, temperature wise lol. I was already wearing mens clothing before starting T so nothing different otherwise.

Before starting T I was passing 50% of the time. Although I was constantly being clocked by moms at my retail job and while my job kinda knew me as a guy, a few ppl put to and to together that I was female (curse u job schedule posting legal names in the back room). I never did get flack for it, other then one of the managers coming up to clarify what gender I was cause admittedly, I never said. He was totally chill with it and even tried to help figure out the system so that the schedule wouldn’t deadname me.

The changes downstairs have been interesting. I didn’t know that I had in a way, already gotten a T-dick from pcos till I started testosterone. I was already half an inch and right now im about an inch, inch and half although its hard to judge since the base isn’t quite clear compared to normal cis dicks. The horniness has also been real, some days it felt like I needed my hand down my pants just to have some peace and quiet in my brain. Especially during the 3rd month.

I also discovered that you have a higher chance of getting a yeast infection on T, that was a fun two week experience. My doc explained that since the downstairs is changing, it is also freaking out a little and trying to rebalance itself hormone wise. While it wasn’t the cause, it increased it and I did something that while I normally wouldn’t have gotten any repercussions of, I ended up having to. For those wondering it was a combo of shaving the downstairs for the first time since starting T (I was four months in at that point) and using a bar of questionable bar of soap to shower with. Most likely it could have happened anyway with the bar of soap but it was still something that happened during my first year on T.

Medically I chose to do injections, althou originally, I thought I was gonna do inter muscular injections until I went to my doctors office for my injection training. That’s when I learned about subcuticular injections. I became less anxious about my shots after that due to the fact that I was already chubby so fat wise, I was golden lol. The biggest problem I had thou was getting syringes and needles. When I finally got the vial after being in insurance purgatory for 3 weeks, I realized that it was only the vial, when I asked the pharmacist about it, they said that they don’t sell needles over the counter, so I needed to get a script from my doctor. For one whole week I had that vial taunting me as I waiting for my doc to come back to me about the syringe and needle. Finally, I got the prescription but then I had a new problem. The initial four I got from the pharmacy was all that they had. Turns I was now part of a new shortage other people where facing, a shortage of 1ml syringes and 25g inch needles because those where the sizes everyone was using for the covid vaccines. This was in the height of everyone getting their covid vaccines so I was a bit fucked. I ended up getting a packet of 20 online from amazon. Right now things have calmed down I think supplies wise althou I haven’t tried getting them from the pharmacy again.

The injections themselves arnt too bad, at least for me. Althou the first injection was very intimidating. That needle was inside me a lot longer then it should have but I did it. I started off biweekly then switched to weekly after I got my first set of labs back. The excitement has gone down so it kinda feels like a mini chore that I must make sure I do every Friday. For the most part it’s not intimidating anymore. There was a brief period of a month mid-way in to the year where I was nervous about injecting after I had a couple of drops of blood come out of the injection site. It hasn’t happened since *knocks on wood* but I think if it does happen again, I won’t be as freaked out by it.

I also didn’t realize how much my background as a biology major would be starting T. I had some experience dealing with needles from a few lab experiments I had to do but by far the biggest tool was knowing my chemistry. Specifically on converting dosages to figure out how much per week someone was getting of their dosage. Less towards me and more towards other people on reddit or on the trans discord server who wanted number to compare each other with.

Finally, the mental changes. I mentioned before how I gained a boost in my confidence and a decrease in anxiety but there are a few other things as well that have change. Its hard to tell if some of these are due to T, age or dealing with the pandemic but I know one change for sure that is due to T. having no thoughts on the brain. Seriously just not thinking about anything. I kinda had this going already but very rarely. It was more like having a stoner thought where I just inspect either the setting or an object like thinking about the small details and just getting lost in thought. Kinda like observation mode. But now I get proper moments where there’s no thoughts in my head, legit not thinking of anything sort of like observation mode but I’m not taking notes like I would. It perplexes my friends though. One of them especially as she has never experience anything like that before and might have assumed I was lying when I replied with “nothing”.

I did had to relearn my anger as it became different being on T. not a bad different, more like the triggers of it changed and the response as well. So I had to briefly relearn the new triggers and how to prevent myself so I don’t accidentally go off on someone. Luckily, I caught it before I actually did but im still figuring it out a bit. Who would have thought being isolated due to a global pandemic would make it harder to get angry at socially.

I also noticed I don’t cry as much, granted even before T I only cried on average twice a year, typically once though. Funny enough its also going to be year since the last time I cried. I had a moment a week into T where I was super upset and ended up balling my eyes out. I wont get into details as to why I was upset, just that I was. It had nothing to do with me starting T and I’ll leave it at that. Not to say that was the last time tears left my eyes, my eyes get super watery from having wind blown on them or onions being cooked. But legit crying, haven’t really done it since that first week on T.

That’s about all the changes I can think of for this past year as far as testosterone changes goes. I hope this helps someone else going along the journey either starting or already on it. I wanna add my voice to the void of other FTM’s to help others in their journey. Especially since I’m not a Caucasian skinny person.

To whomever does read this, I hope ur journey goes well and there are less headaches in ur journey to being you.

Best wishes from ur fav online chubby 28 year old mex-american

#FTM #HRT #one year on testosterone #transgender #transman #pride #transmasc

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fox-buried-in-maple-leaves · 1 year

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soft oc asks 1-16 for eloi please !!

Is your OC a hugger or do they not like that sort of affection? Do they initiate a hug or get roped into them?

Not really a hugger, also hates being hit with surprise affection, activates his fight or flight response. To which, he typically fights. All around bad idea! But if asked he's very affectionate!! he's also quite affectionate in private :) loves loves hugs in private.

Does your OC have any endearing qualities?

His dependability? Very dependable, 10/10. He'll usually get the job done anyways, but for his friends the job is done to the actual best of his ability. And he tends to always show up for them. It's part of why Sabine sought to hire him.

How does your OC react to affectionate gestures?

Surprise affectionate gestures BAD. Otherwise he likes them. He's friends with some very eccentric people, after all. Whilst not being affectionate himself as I mentioned, he's able to take affectionate gestures relatively well in stride.

Forehead kisses or hand kisses?

Forehead kisses :)

Do they like oversized jumpers?

(looks at all of his sweaters)

(looks at you)

yeah<3

What calms they down most when they're anxious?

Painting. But that can also sometimes make him more anxious or agitated, depending on what's going on. So sometimes he'll just very aggressively make food...? why you choppin that onion like that??

What makes them blush?

Artisan is unfortunately really easy to fluster. He is also pale as a tit, as you put. Just say something even remotely nsfw and his face be lookin like a tomato.

What Disney/musical song do you most associate with them?

Nothing from The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls musical. Especially in regards to his relationship with his now deceased fiancee.

Animated Fancast?

the answer for this one will always be the same, I don't think abt this.

Your OC is surrounded by puppies/kittens/ducklings. What do they do?

Might tear up idk idk.. So soft.. so cute.. so innocent and unaware of the cruelty of the world... pet pet pet pet pet

Do they talk to their pets?

He doesn't trust himself to have one. But he's very good with Gabriel's dog, Olive. Talks to her a lot :)

What's a childhood memory they cherish most?

Teaching his little brother how to hold a paintbrush properly is one of his most cherished memories

Are they a romantic at heart?

Yes. A little too romantic, even..

What's the most touching gift they've ever received?

A person's love.

What's their favourite item of clothing?

His hair ribbons!! But his black one is most sentimental

What's their most treasured possessions?

Said black ribbon.

Do they have a comfort food? Who makes it best?

Not really, no. A really good cider? But that's usually bought.

How do they cheer up a friend when they're down?

Finger painting, babyyyyy! Or cooking together. Artisan likes to distract the person in question, yk?

What's a guilty pleasure of theirs?

Murder???

Is your character a bookworm?

He looks like it but he honestly only reads when he's bored in bed /sobs... deffo the kind of bitch who stays up way too late reading a 100k slowburn coffee shop au fanfic though.. he's so embarrassing.

Does your character have a particular sweet/candy they love?

Eiffel Apple Bon Bons

Who knows how they like their tea/coffee/(insert drink) best?

BLACK. everyone knows. they think he's pretentious (except for Brimstone, who also drinks black coffee)

Do they like to have a lie in or do rise early?

Artisan likes to get up earlier than he should and just lay there. So both!

Does your OC wrap themselves into a burrito to sleep or do they get tangled in the sheets?

He doesn't like to be restricted, so he doesn't burrito himself, but he only moves a bunch if he has nightmares. in which he wakes up on the floor anyways.

Does your OC like to cuddle their significant other when they sleep? If so, who is the little spoon? Would they admit it if asked?

fucking parasite. worse than venom fr. he doesn't care if he's the big or little spoon though. artisan isn't necessarily embarrassed to admit whether or not he's the little spoon, he j doesn't feel the need to admit to somebody outside of the relationship what he gets up to?? lmao

#☾*✲⋆. Essence of Myrrh #From The Fate ; Rowan #⋆｡°✩ Artisan

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ofhedgehogsandpumpkins · 3 months

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A bunch of ramblings about personal stuff with regards to my own identity as 'human' or not follows. Wanted to get in on paper somewhere and was like "Hey, I have a blog," so. It's personal, but it's my (our) blog I get to post rambling personal posts if I wanna.

Today marks my (Quinn) second run-in w/ Something hitting the rat choir of yearning (good post) (technically like the umpteenth but in this case second) that made me go "Hm, am I a therian," stuff. We're no strangers to non-/alter-humans as a system, there's a wolf, a pair of dragons, and a couple other 'unclassified' folks, but y'know.

I've always kinda been the "token human"? In the past I've (semi-jokingly) used the phrase 'species nonconforming', I've just kinda bounced around from 'sona to 'sona pretty regularly (with a rough base in puppyesque vibes for a lot of reasons), but it's always been a role to play or mask to wear for fun. Y'know, typical furry stuff.

Then I read Taxxon's HRT fic (some of the others had read it before, but I ran into it myself later) like 2 months ago and that slapped the aforementioned rat choir into singing their familiar tune, and uh. I got stuck as a dog for like, a week.

So that was fun.

By which I mean terrifying, actually! For a lot of reasons! I'm really bad at introspection actually! But I tried to settle in as best as I could and when it passed I kinda breathed a sigh of relief and moved on. Went back to the, y'know, "have fun with it" vibe and kept going. Canid-specific 'sona's and roles were kinda poisoned a little by the experience, unfortunately, but it happens. Kobolds are where it's at anyway.

And then Last Night. A very good piece of art by ayviearttv here on Tumblr was passed to me (it's a series, go to their blog it's REALLY good). And uh. Oh Boy the Rat Choir. The night soured for unrelated reasons but a solid amount of it was "Why won't these tiny cheesebrains stop singing for like 5 minutes."

Like, they sing a lot is the thing. Not like, constantly, but a lot, in response to a lot of things that I won't detail. A few include like, specific depictions of androids, or organics becoming androids, etc., messy TF (ie; semi-realistic like in the case of Taxxon and Ayvie's pieces) both organic and mechanical, and so on. We/I have also been into dragons since, like, a super young age (raised on Dragonology, fantasized about being one, raised on Animorphs which also explains a lot, never read Pern but did read Eragon, etc.) so, y'know.

...I'm saying this like I'm trying to justify it. I guess I have to, to myself, a little. Not..."have to" but...feel the need to? I woke up this morning (like 12 hours ago) feeling like I had phantom limbs, they're still around when I'm not otherwise distracted (ADHD makes a lot of things go away when I'm distracted) and have been...odd to deal with. I've never been more aware of how dirty floors can be when it feels like a part of me is dragging on them, ha.

It doesn't feel scary. I mean, I'm anxious, a little. Moreso earlier. I'm anxious in the same way, the imposter way, the faking for attention way, so on, the ways that are usually externally motivated (or at least pretend to be). But unlike before I'm not...bone-deep terrified of it. It feels nice. Wings at my back, tail balancing me out, the strange feeling of horns and crest above, it's...I'unno. It's nice.

On the other hand, I miss being able to lay on my back without feeling weird, hah. Also I was basically sprinting out of the car whenever we stopped for errands.

My proprioception's (the sense of where your body is in space) always been kinda fluid and easy to fool, even for a human who developed a fluid proprioception to handle tool use (that's why tools and/or vehicles often feel like a part of your body when you use them and you (generally) know where in space they are even without looking). Like, as a kid I found a tarot book in our grandmother's workspace that had advice for developing proprioceptive wings through meditation (not joking) and that worked pretty well for me, among other things. It's just how I am. So we'll see, uh, how long this sticks around, I guess.

If...it doesn't...no harm. Mm...maybe a little harm. I'll be sad. I think I'd miss it now that I know how it feels. If it does, work's gonna be awkward, hah. They don't make chairs for that. It'll be fine, just funny.

I don't need advice or anything, to be clear, just musing. I like hearing about the experiences of other therians in specific/alterhumans in general. It's neat. Plurality was neat too, and then turns out I was we. Regardless, it's neat, so I guess I'm just putting this out there to have on paper, and if anyone reads it and it makes them think a little about themselves or encourages anyone or whatever, that's an added bonus.

#quinn types #used to use grimm types but ehhh #i dont think i'll tag this further

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occult-roommates · 7 months

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btw this blog is on small hiatus cause basically, i explained it on my main, but i worked my ass off at my daycare job barely going out the entire summer to save some money, my mom ended up taking half of it and i know she's never gonna pay me back. then i thought i had found a sweet gig at a novelty store (good schedule, good pay, store located within my typical bus road, nice working condition) i was super confident i was gonna get the job, so i prematurely quit my daycare one, but in spite of telling me i was an amazing candidate and also the first one to accept the offer, the fucker did not hire me and money was starting to run out. spent weeks sending resume upon resume, got only called back at a fucking butcher store, and still they didn't hired me either (which i mean thank god but still). then a friend offered me a paid internship at a youth center, which i started legit two days ago and i HATE IT. it feels like im back in high school and it's making me so anxious last night i had muscle spasm going from my back to my legs. the only upside is the pay otherwise everything else sucks (especially the location like riding the bus more than an hour is miserable).

so yeah, currently my mental state could be described as "stressed, depressed, hopeless and burnt out". im literally thinking about money all the fucking time and im bitter how i wasted my summer working while my family went to mexico for nothing. i originally had plan to start flight school this fall but that's getting delayed again as take a wild guess why i wanted to save money in the first place. and now im just miserable cause my two hopes for the fall have been taken away from me. literally all i can think about is that i need a job and that money is about to run out. i pretty much spent all of last week sleeping or scrolling tiktok without the energy to do anything else.

and this is why i've been completely inactive. usually when i don't post for a while it's just because i've hit writer's block but right now, really shit is fucked i don't know what else to do.

#elouan's rambling

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queendeeshorrorimagines · 1 year

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Can I please have a American Horror Story or Slasher match up please? 💕

My own love language is words of affirmation and acts of service and from others it's physical touch and quality time. I'm female, interested in men, but I'm also open for women, so it's kind of both.

Meeting new people, being in crowded places and in the center of attention make me really anxious and uncomfortable. Although it's easier if I can relay and concentrate on someone really close to me.

I have deep emotions, but they tend to overwhelm me and I struggle with communicating and procressing them alone, which leads me to relying on others but also understanding others and the world around me on a deeper level. I believe that's also why I'm so accepting, supporting and open-minded.

I'm the happiest when the people I love are happy, when someone truly listens to me, my thoughts and feelings.

I hate when people believe they can define or generalize what's normal or beautiful, boring or annoying, typical or effective. All these are personal views and usually I find beauty where others don't, enjoy unusualness and uniqueness, macabre themes and despise mainstream and stereotypical things. Being like everyone else or fitting into some kind of box annoys me so much!

The nightsky inspires and fascinates me, just as much as rain calms me down and fills me with serenity, passion and happiness. My biggest passion is music and I could never live a day without it, it's like the air to breathe. I especially love (symphonic-,heavy-) metal!

I firmly believe in the power of honesty and wish to be respected and accepted as much as I do show others. I seek for fairness and tenderness in my (daily/social) life, but don't judge the contrasting thoughts of others and try my best to listen to them

My senses are pretty strong and my surroundings, especially combinated with my high social anxiety, sometimes lead me to anxiety and panic attacks, which I obliviously hate and am ashamed of. I struggle to get out of them on my own, but to someone really close to me it's actually not so hard.

I love watching movies and TV shows. To be honest, I prefer living in fictional worlds an daydreams over the real world. I'm especially enthusiastic about horror and fantasy. I enjoy driving around for hours (as a passenger), otherwise I prefer not leaving the house that much.

I'm living vegan and I'm really passionate about it. I wish to never ever harm an animal and to treat them with all the love my heart is capable of! If I could, I would help and adopt every single animal and care for them lovingly.

Thank you so much! 💕🙃

- 🌻

For slashers, I ship you with... Vincent Sinclair!

Your different style was the first thing that Vincent noticed when you were inside the HOW, you weren't like other people that he's seen. Especially when you started sketching one of his wax sculptures, humming a soft song while you didn't notice him behind you.

He knew at that moment that he has to spare you. Vincent knows how sensitive you are to energies and your anxiety so he tends to shield you away from his work area.

Other possibilities: Daniel Robitaille| Candyman

For American horror story, I ship you with..... Michael Langdon!

You first met Michael after moving into the same neighborhood as Mead and him. You were different compared to the other women that he's encountered. You were someone who he values to be a part of the utopia he's planning. You're honest and care for the people you're close to.

Michael has no issues with you being a vegan, he respects your reasoning of not wanting to harm an animal. He might not be keen on becoming a vegan himself, he's willing to make accommodations for you once the both of you end up in the safety area. He might not be into your clinginess in public settings, he is always down for your clinginess in private; often times he vents about his day while you gently hold him close to you, petting his blond locks.

Other possibilities: James March

#matchup 0020 #queendeeshorrorimagines #slasher matchups #american horror story matchups #ahs matchups #🌻 anon ask

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