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#neuvilette is so hot like oh my GOD
jayum · 8 months
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the occassional drawing its so blurry help
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danafeelingsick · 3 months
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Novemetober 2023
@monthofsick
Prompt list | Masterlist | AO3 collection
Day 2: Can't stop puking
Word count: 1, 4k~
CONTENT WARNINGS: descriptions of vomiting, mentions of anxiety, food, can be read as platonic or romantic.
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Anon asked:
Would you be willing to do Furina with the prompt can’t hold anything down, if not it’s completely fine. Feel free to ignore this message. Sincerely, an anon who loves your blog and hopes you have a great 2024.
A/N: hey there anon, and happy new year! i ended up confusing the ‘can't stop puking' prompt with the ‘can't keep anything down’ one, so yours is listed as day 2. i found them a little similar, but tried alluding to both. i hope you like it! i couldn't help it and started a part two with more of neuvilette, so i might finish it once my mind's a little clearer.
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Furina’s eyes fluttered open to the white tiles of her bathroom floor, twisting spiraling into some disorienting shape that made her head spin. Swallowing thickly, she closed them again, feeling her throat scratch as if she had eaten broken glass, a metallic taste lingering in the root of her tongue. She still felt nauseous.
A shuddering sigh escaped her dry lips, broken by a wet hiccup that had her whimpering softly. Her stomach lurched under the arms she had wrapped tightly around it, a burning ache spreading across her abdomen. The last thing she remembered was waking up to that same sensation, in the middle of night, her stubborn dinner trying to claw its way up.
Afraid she would be sick in her own bed, she wrapped a soft blanket around her shoulders and crawled her way to the bathroom. Kneeling on the cold hard floor, she had tried to ride out the waves of nausea, curling herself into a shivering ball.
That did nothing to stop it from happening, and the poor woman vomited miserably, tears running down her cheeks, her chest squeezing with every heave. She was alone, unable to even summon one of her companions to talk to.
She couldn’t tell for how long she had been asleep, or even when she had, but by then it had already become morning. The sun peered through one of the high windows of her apartment, mixed with harsh fluorescent light. Her situation hadn't improved.
As Furina propped herself over the ceramic bowl, she wondered if there was even anything else left in her. The plate of macaroni she forced down seemed to still be making its course, there was no helping it. She knew she was going to vomit again, the feeling was a distinct one, like her stomach had plummeted to her feet, her throat tightening.
She didn't try to fight it, letting herself gag softly, the sound morphing into a garbled retch as her abdomen suddenly sunk. Hot acidic bile gurgled up her throat and flooded her tongue, making her eyes water.
“Oh, god… Hurrlleeruhhk”, she gasped, spitting out the sirupy trickle into the toilet, staining the clear water a sickly yellow.
It tasted strongly of cheese and fermentation, making her regret the sauce she had made to accompany the pasta. She could feel the clumps of dough nearly clogging her throat as it all came up, splattering heavily into the water.
Her body ached from sleeping in such an awful place, making the dry heaving nearly excruciating, though she couldn't stop herself. Furina managed to spew another thick gush of undigested macaroni before she laid her head down, trying to breath through the unwavering nausea.
The contents of the toilet looked almost like a clumpy pale yellow soup, with visible chunks of once curved macaroni, not a single one had maintained its shape. Trying not to gag again, she reached out and flushed, wincing at the sound of swirling water.
Furina closed her eyes and groaned, shedding the tears pooled in her waterline. Falling asleep there wasn't an option she would even entertain, and no matter how weak she felt, she knew she needed to get up.
After a couple moments of breathing heavily, trying to ground herself, she rose to her feet, her legs trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around her stomach. The sound of a faucet distracted her as she avoided her reflection in the tall mirror, busying herself with rinsing her mouth and washing her face. While refreshing, she couldn't put down the feeling that it would take a lot more than that for her to feel okay again.
Just as Furina raised her eyes from the sink she heard a noise she didn't quite expect and froze: someone was knocking on her front door. She had no idea who it could be at that time, but she wasn't in the best shape for it.
“H-Hold on!”, she groaned as they knocked again, unsurprised at how weak her voice sounded. She was lightheaded as she reached the door, standing close to it as she talked to whoever it was on the other side: “Who is it? Look, I’m super busy right now.”
“Ah, my apologies”, a familiar voice responded, carrying a tone of lament in it. Furina felt as if the carpet had been pulled from under her, not believing it at first. It continued: “I suppose I can return at a later time.”
There was no mistaking it, she had known that voice for the last 500 years of her life. She hurriedly tried to unlock the door, her unsteady fingers struggling with the handle.
“No, no! Wait”, she pleaded, opening the door only to find him standing there, a tall man with silvery white hair, that same elegant suit she always saw him wear. “Monsieur Neuvillette…?”
The man’s cordial face turned to one of surprise as he saw her, his purplish eyes downcast at her, watching her tremble like a leaf in the wind. The woman didn't look quite like herself, her complexion was sickly pale and her eyes red, as if she had spent the night crying.
“Ah, Lady Furina. Sorry to barge in and disrupt you” Neuvillette stalled for a moment, before he continued, putting on his usual stilted tone.
“Just what are you doing here?”, she asked, not even registering what he had said. Her chest grew heavy with desperation, scowling in an attempt to hold her tears. “Why… now?”
Neuvillette seemed to grow uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his hands hidden behind his back.
“Well”, he sighed quietly, trying to sustain her gaze. “I’ve heard you hadn't left your home in a few days, so I… was worried”, he admitted, sounding almost ashamed, somehow. Furina had to admit, in the centuries they had known each other, she hadn’t learned to read him at all.
The woman shook her head, still trying to make sense of what he was saying. If she didn't appear out her door for more than two or three days, the news would reach the Iudex himself? So much for freedom, she thought with annoyance.
“I don't get it… why are you here? Why didn't you send someone else, or, or”, she blurted, her voice becoming stained as her throat tightened, her vision blurring. “Don't you have anything more important to do!?”
“I had some time and decided to pay you a visit. I apologize if I came at a bad time”, he responded simply, cocking his head at her abrasive attitude. As if trying to repair the awkward silence that hung between the two, he brought out a few plastic bags from behind his back. ”Here, I thought you could use extra supplies. Take it as a… late house warming gift, I suppose”, he added.
Furina glanced at the bags, catching a glimpse of several wrapped goods, including a large slice of cake inside a plastic casing. She swallowed, she hadn't had that in months, but just thinking of the taste, of how much she ate of it in her days as acting archon. Her hand flew to her mouth, covering it as an airy hiccup escaped her
“I-I don't want it —”, she choked out, her stomach dropping.
Before Neuvilette could even decipher what she had said, the woman spun on her heels, ran a few steps into her living room, and dropped to her knees.
“Lady Furina!” Neuvillette followed after her, throwing all learned manners aside as he barged into her home uninvited, leaving the bags on the floor.
He couldn't tell what was wrong with her, or rather, he couldn't comprehend why a human would have such a reaction, then he saw it. Her small frame winced violently as a loud strangled noise left, her frail back heaving and arms trembling, struggling to hold her up. He knew she needed his company, though he couldn't decide if she wanted it.
The man knelt by her side, just as something wet splattered on the floor in front of her, forming a viscous puddle. He tried not to look at it and held her by the shoulders before she gave out, one hand going to her forehead. Heat nearly rolled off her like water poured over a campfire. It was a first for him, feeling it through the fabric of his gloves, the combination of cold and unusual warmth, he knew what that meant.
“You are sick…”, he told her, his voice still airy from the shock.
Furina responded with a dry heave, the sound guttural for her once melodic voice, he couldn't help but wince along with her, his eyes briefly closing as he expected another sounding splatter. When it didn't come, he watched her gasp desperately, gagging emptily over the puddle in front of her.
“For how long have you been dealing with this alone?“, he asked.
Furina bit her lip, no longer able to hold in her tears.
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