Summary: you find yourself in horrible pain at the feet of your dearest (or, during a flare up of pain, you ask Sunday to help you.)
Tags: fluff, chronic pain reader, (that's what's intended, but it's really up to you), slightly tsundere Sunday, March 7th cameo at the very very very end
Notes: I wrote this entirely in Tumblr so idk the word count and I do not care to find it. I haven't written in forever and a half, so if it's bad, well that's TOO DAMN BAD !! I just had the thought "my legs hurt. What if I made this sunday's problem." And here we are
______๑♡๑______
It's admittedly, a little entertaining to watch the halovian's wings go up in terror as you suddenly cling to him.
"Sunday? Sunday? Sunday?" You clutch to his coat, leaning your weight against him. It's a little comforting- despite how evil you're being- to feel his hands immediately find your side, supporting you up.
"Yes? Yes? Yes?"
"I need you to kill me."
"WHAT?" You can't help the burst of laughter, though you can physically feel the damage your joy causes to your poor, aching joints. Sunday, hands shaking now, hurries you off to the nearest chair, "are you alright? Do you need a psychiatrist? Do we have a psychiatrist- is there any within vicinity? It would be too much to ask Himeko to reroute..."
A pang of guilt weighs down your smile as he starts to trail off, you can't even tell him that sitting isn't quite as good as lying down, "I need some painkillers, a couch... A birdie to cuddle, maybe."
Sunday forces his hands to still, but that only makes his feathers puff. He can't even bring himself to meet your gaze as he picks you up like a princess, his wings folding in to hide his blush as he carries and gently sets you down on the couch. He keeps his head turned away as he pours a glass of water and hands you exactly two ibuprofen, he wouldn't dare go over the recommended dose. Only when you take the pills does he turn to watch, making sure they go down properly.
You lean back on the couch, finally laying down- it does little to immediately ease the ache, but hopefully in tandem with the wonderful invention of ibuprofen, it should fade (or at least become bearable)- you offer a hand, staring up at him, "and my last request?"
The comfortable, familiar weight of his head finally rests on your chest, the rest of his body following suit as Sunday rests on the couch right on top of you. His hand, having immediately taken yours, intertwines fingers, "you're evil, do you know that?" The gentle, lovesick tone betrays him.
Your free hand rests upon the back of his head, combing through the silky hair, "and yet, here you are." You can't help yourself, tilting down to press a kiss against the crown of his head, "right within my evil, evil clutches."
The peace of sleep, previously warded off from the loud, sharp pain of your body, finally embraces you- the two of you, rather, Sunday's breath evens out to the same pace as yours. Not a soul who passes by that couch dares to make too much noise, save for the shutter of a certain girl's camera.
Summary: you find yourself in horrible pain at the feet of your dearest (or, during a flare up of pain, you ask Sunday to help you.)
Tags: fluff, chronic pain reader, (that's what's intended, but it's really up to you), slightly tsundere Sunday, March 7th cameo at the very very very end
Notes: I wrote this entirely in Tumblr so idk the word count and I do not care to find it. I haven't written in forever and a half, so if it's bad, well that's TOO DAMN BAD !! I just had the thought "my legs hurt. What if I made this sunday's problem." And here we are
______๑♡๑______
It's admittedly, a little entertaining to watch the halovian's wings go up in terror as you suddenly cling to him.
"Sunday? Sunday? Sunday?" You clutch to his coat, leaning your weight against him. It's a little comforting- despite how evil you're being- to feel his hands immediately find your side, supporting you up.
"Yes? Yes? Yes?"
"I need you to kill me."
"WHAT?" You can't help the burst of laughter, though you can physically feel the damage your joy causes to your poor, aching joints. Sunday, hands shaking now, hurries you off to the nearest chair, "are you alright? Do you need a psychiatrist? Do we have a psychiatrist- is there any within vicinity? It would be too much to ask Himeko to reroute..."
A pang of guilt weighs down your smile as he starts to trail off, you can't even tell him that sitting isn't quite as good as lying down, "I need some painkillers, a couch... A birdie to cuddle, maybe."
Sunday forces his hands to still, but that only makes his feathers puff. He can't even bring himself to meet your gaze as he picks you up like a princess, his wings folding in to hide his blush as he carries and gently sets you down on the couch. He keeps his head turned away as he pours a glass of water and hands you exactly two ibuprofen, he wouldn't dare go over the recommended dose. Only when you take the pills does he turn to watch, making sure they go down properly.
You lean back on the couch, finally laying down- it does little to immediately ease the ache, but hopefully in tandem with the wonderful invention of ibuprofen, it should fade (or at least become bearable)- you offer a hand, staring up at him, "and my last request?"
The comfortable, familiar weight of his head finally rests on your chest, the rest of his body following suit as Sunday rests on the couch right on top of you. His hand, having immediately taken yours, intertwines fingers, "you're evil, do you know that?" The gentle, lovesick tone betrays him.
Your free hand rests upon the back of his head, combing through the silky hair, "and yet, here you are." You can't help yourself, tilting down to press a kiss against the crown of his head, "right within my evil, evil clutches."
The peace of sleep, previously warded off from the loud, sharp pain of your body, finally embraces you- the two of you, rather, Sunday's breath evens out to the same pace as yours. Not a soul who passes by that couch dares to make too much noise, save for the shutter of a certain girl's camera.
Qifrey fic where reader is having a nice comfortable time (fluff yayy) with him and then gets hit with the feeling that one day they'll look back at this memory like a dead wife flashback (mourning for the person who's right in front of you) ...
Alternatively, Qifrey fic with the "5+1" setup where it's 5 times reader and Qifrey almost kissed and the one (only?) time they did
AGGRESSIVELY SHAKES YOU AGGRESSIVELY SHAKES YOU AGGRESSIVELY SHAKES OU AGGRESSIVEELY SHAKES SYDOU IMD SO DFUJCKIGNGNG GESICIFTED DHES HERE HERES HERES HES HERE OH MY GOD HES HEREE I CANT FUCKING BE,IEGE IT HES HERRE IM SO FUCKING EXCITED IM SO HAPPY IM SO IM SO OSOOOOOOO SO FUCKING HAPPY AND EXCITED OH MY GOD I SCREAMED I M CRYING RIGHT NOW SO HARD OH MY GOD HES HEREEEE HERS HERE HEE HE OH MY GOD DIC CNST FUCKDING BRETSHE ERIGHT NOE DI CSNT SEE MY FUDKDINVG SCREEN OH YM GOD HES HERE
Boy oh boy where do I even begin. Blade... honey, my pookie bear. I have loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you. The way you enter battle and strike fear into your enemies eyes. Your silky smooth touch around the shard sword, and that gorgeous mugshot. I would do anything for you. I wish it were possible to freeze time so I would never have to watch your banner end. You had a rough revival, but you never gave up hope. You are even amazing at t1.5, you're a great stellaron hunter and father, sometimes I even call you my wife. I forever dread and weep, thinking of the day you will one day become yumebait. I would sacrifice my own life it were the only thing that could put a smile on your beautiful face. You have given me so much joy, and heartbreak over the years. I remember when you first left in 1.2 and its like my heart got broken into a million pieces. But a tear still fell from my right eye when I watched you win your first battle against Yanqing, because deep down, my glorious king deserved it. I just wanted you to return on banner. Then allas, you did, my sweet baby boy came home and I rejoiced. 2025 was a hard year for us baby, but in 2026 you made history happen. You came back in Planarcadia and I couldn't believe it. I was crying, bawling even, and I heard my glorious king exclaim these words, "OF FIVE PEOPLE, THREE MUST PAY A PRICE!" Not only have you changed the game of HP scaling and the meta forever, but you've eternally changed my world. And now you're getting lower on prydwen, but still the goat, my goat. I love you pookie bear, my glorious king, Blade Honkai Star Rail. WELCOME HOOOOOOOME MORTENAX BLADEEEEEEEEEEE
protagonists can and will be sexist, racist, insensitive, cruel, stupid, etc, especially towards the beginning of a story. these are called character flaws and they are a surprise tool that will lead to narrative fulfillment later
And sometimes "narrative fulfillment" doesn't mean "the character overcomes their flaws" or even "the antihero is punished for their flaws"! sometimes it means the narrative says "wow was that fucked up or what? anyway i'm rod sterling"
One thing that really upsets me that seems to be centralized to Tumblr fanfiction is the over-reliance on tropes. I guess it's common in fandom spaces in general (I see it a bit on TikTok) but it seems especially congregated on Tumblr because of this existence of a special type of fanfic where the author posts a general writing ?? Portion ?? Thing and it's vague about what character is in it, it just feels really super tropey, and then at the end there's a list of characters that "fit the trope" and it just irritates me tbh...
Like it's one thing that they tag a bunch of characters from a bunch of fandoms without really writing the character, but they also get like 1 milliom notes for it and it feels so......... Boring to me.
But again, fandom spaces have a tendency to rely on tropes, and while that would be fine in a vacuum it's to a point where characters are more tropes than characters, I see this a lot with Blade, but I do have a super particular vision of Blade so I tend to write my own fanfic when it comes to him. Blade fits the archetype of "tall, dark, and handsome" or like, booktok Alpha Male with shadow powers, I'm sure you get the idea. The thing is, the narrative in hsr itself disagrees with this vision, Blade is, outside of his moments of Mara, a relatively normal guy. It's just his obsessive vengeance/super fucked up situationship fucks his brain up sometimes. He's borderline a girldad to Silver (the lightcone where he accompanies her to her first mission) and Firefly ("temptation will show up again in Penacony" which is his way of saying "be careful") and very obedient to Kafka even when staring down Dan Heng, he waits for her cue. The only reason he doesn't play games with Silver is because his hand hasn't healed yet.
It just upsets me because like....... By writing fanfic you're already committing yourself to a labor of love to your favorite character, so I'd assume it's natural to take the next step and make sure you're portraying the character (even if you might have your own headcanons) instead of the character archetype
Also imo those indirect fanfics feel like the equivalent of that one song that goes "I love your eyes and their blueish greenish brownish color" like. It's trying to appeal to as many audiences as possible by describing an archetype and giving you a list of characters to do the imagining yourself
One thing that really upsets me that seems to be centralized to Tumblr fanfiction is the over-reliance on tropes. I guess it's common in fandom spaces in general (I see it a bit on TikTok) but it seems especially congregated on Tumblr because of this existence of a special type of fanfic where the author posts a general writing ?? Portion ?? Thing and it's vague about what character is in it, it just feels really super tropey, and then at the end there's a list of characters that "fit the trope" and it just irritates me tbh...
Like it's one thing that they tag a bunch of characters from a bunch of fandoms without really writing the character, but they also get like 1 milliom notes for it and it feels so......... Boring to me.
But again, fandom spaces have a tendency to rely on tropes, and while that would be fine in a vacuum it's to a point where characters are more tropes than characters, I see this a lot with Blade, but I do have a super particular vision of Blade so I tend to write my own fanfic when it comes to him. Blade fits the archetype of "tall, dark, and handsome" or like, booktok Alpha Male with shadow powers, I'm sure you get the idea. The thing is, the narrative in hsr itself disagrees with this vision, Blade is, outside of his moments of Mara, a relatively normal guy. It's just his obsessive vengeance/super fucked up situationship fucks his brain up sometimes. He's borderline a girldad to Silver (the lightcone where he accompanies her to her first mission) and Firefly ("temptation will show up again in Penacony" which is his way of saying "be careful") and very obedient to Kafka even when staring down Dan Heng, he waits for her cue. The only reason he doesn't play games with Silver is because his hand hasn't healed yet.
It just upsets me because like....... By writing fanfic you're already committing yourself to a labor of love to your favorite character, so I'd assume it's natural to take the next step and make sure you're portraying the character (even if you might have your own headcanons) instead of the character archetype
The heartbreaking experience of being stupid and drawing all your merch in RGB colours and having to transform them into CMYK and they turn out dull and ugly 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔
So apparently, Kakavasha's sister fake-betrayed the entirety of her tribe in order to secure the IPC's help. But as we know, the IPC (Oswaldo 💢) never responded. Still, she did what she could.
While I’m working on commissions have this old drawing a found of Dr Ratio and Aventurine as dragons from a while back, because their colour schemes are just fun to work with
Aventurine is the type of bitch to kill you because you "get in the way of his work" and then kiss your dead corpse
You're a liability, a danger, the way you make his heart squeeze and the way you dull his sharp edges. A gemstone loses value when it loses its polish, it's shine, he can't afford being worth any less. There's nothing he owns but everything to lose if he slips up.
His heart isn't needed anyway, the knife cuts easily into yours once he comes to terms with that. You remind him too much that he's human, that there's something to care about, that there's someone who cares about him. A liability, a danger, a problem, that's all you've ever been.
Your corpse is still warm, though. His heart is still bleeding out. And your body feels so right when cradled in his arms, it makes him wonder if there's a world where he gets to hold you while your blood is still pumping. A universe where you reciprocate when his lips press to yours.
Dead men tell no tales, and dead bodies don't love. And Aventurine has more sense than to squeeze out affection from a life he ended himself.
It feels like his heart got wrenched out of his chest. It's lying before him, bleeding out and still faintly pulsing. His throat hurts.
"...Honey...?" Your body is limp in his arms, the warmth of life slowly leaving you. Aventurine cradles your hand, holding you like he could keep your soul from leaving, "No- no no no no-" his breath comes in gasps- the pulse beneath his fingers, pressed to your wrist, weakens.
"C- come back!" Aventurine grips your shoulders, a sob dragged from his throat as tears fall on your cheeks, a face once so warm and lifelike, "You can't leave me- you said you wouldn't! You liar! Come back!"
But shouting at a dead body doesn't do anything. Limp, like a puppet with its strings cut, you don't wake, not at command and not at his accusations. He cradles your face, rubbing his tears off of your cheeks as more and more fall down, "Come back..." His forehead comes to rest against yours, staring into your dead eyes with lightless ones of his own.
titsay
theartofmadeline
stormborns
jacobvanloon
blakekathryn
