Rainbow Quest Oneshots

Self Hate

What's this? An immediate second update? 😱😱

I worked on this one and the last one back to back while waiting for my phone to start working again so hopefully the writing stayed good the whole time 💃

Some of this chapter is based off my own issues with my body, parts I won't specify however. Partially a vent-chapter in a way I guess 🧍‍♂️ if any of you struggle with this as well, I love you, you're not alone <3 😼

I also don't remember which one I worked on first which annoys me cuz I wanted to post them in that order but whatever :,)

TWs:
Self Hate
Self harming ideology
Uhh think that's it?

Enjoy~

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Sabre stared in the mirror, setting his hands on the edge of the sink. Time and Dark had gone out a little earlier to go get groceries, leaving Sabre alone. He didn't mind being alone too much, especially since the two were with him more often than not, and a little quiet time can be relaxing. So, when they asked him if he wanted to tag along, he politely declined.

However, he was starting to rethink his decision. Staring into the thing he usually tried to avoid, at the thing he despised with a passion. He frowned as he looked himself over, judging every minuscule detail. Any hair slightly out of place or slight mark didn't go unnoticed, nor unjudged. Carefully, he removed his blindfold to nitpick at his eyes too. Something he used to be pretty proud of, now something he detested. As special as they might be, they weren't convenient, and caused issues.

The player's gaze shifted to his ears when they flicked, the slightly unkempt feathers flicking again. He'd wanted to ask for help preening them, but didn't want to be inconvenient to the two hardworking steves he housed with. Preening them alone was arduous, given he'd miraculously found the time to anyways. He'd have to stay holed up in the bathroom or work with a mirror in his room, feeling for any he might not be able to see. Not to mention the fact his tail needed care as well.

He leaned a little closer, sighing at the messy and slightly greasy state of his hair. He'd have to shower later, that is, if nothing managed to pop up again. He untied the half ponytail his hair was in, running a hand through it, separating it somewhere in the middle and tying it back up, leaving the bottom half to lay against his neck and shoulders. He could shower later tonight, maybe after dinner.

He stared at his chin, glaring as though his burning gaze alone could mold it to perfection. He couldn't tell whether he liked a stubble or being clean-shaven, and no matter what he picked he was only content with it for a while before feeling the need to switch. Currently, he was clean-shaven, but could see a faint stubble starting to come in. At the moment, he couldn't tell which he preferred. (Somewhere, distantly, he knew he'd prefer nothing. An empty void where his face used to be would be better.)

His eyes flicked up to his mouth. Dried and chapped lips with a small scar running over one edge. Small cracks that bled earlier still in the process of healing. A faint toothmark nearly healed from when he'd gotten too overwhelmed a while back.

His nose, pretty fine over most his other features. Concave shaped, and only a single scar over it.

His cheeks, slightly freckled and a few faded/fading scratches and bruises. Pretty defined cheekbones, but nothing picture-perfect worthy. A single mole on his left cheek, under almost the edge of his eye. A few times, he'd gotten so bothered by it he'd tried scratching or pinching it off, clearly to no avail. Either he'd be interrupted or a more sensible part of his mind yelled at him to stop before he mangled his face further than its already ugly self.

His eyes, ugh, his eyes. Long lashes. Black voids with green ones and zeros that never stayed still. Always changing and glitching. A large scar over one, trailing from his left cheek to a little over his eyebrow. Often, he'd be tempted to gouge them out by any means. Maybe an accidental slip of a sword or a wrong step over a tree branch. Only the thought of not being able to help his friends properly if he were blind stopped him. Maybe when this was all over he could figure out some way to rid himself of this burden.

His brows, fixed up after he got tired of them being pretty messy a few days ago. He had almost no issue with them at the moment.

The brunette looked down, at his slim neck, his collarbone, down to his chest, his stomach. His arms, his hand, his fingers. Further to his thighs, his calves, his feet. He lifted his shirt, almost gagging at the fading stretch-marks. With all his running around, he had no time to eat as much and lost weight pretty quickly. Time would often comment about how Sabre hardly ate, but would never push it too much when Sabre said he wasn't hungry, only throwing a few concerned glaces for a while after.

He wasn't ever big by any means, but once he slimmed down, he realized just how much he hated his size before. How ugly the few stretch marks he had actually were. He'd often skip meals, only giving in when Time (and every so often Dark, either on his own accord or if Time brought him into it) would actually tell him to eat with no exceptions, or when he thought about the fact he needed energy to help his friends and save people.

'At least they're fading more,' he thought, rubbing a hand over them roughly.

And the scars, littered almost everywhere on him. Burns, scrapes, stabs, bruised. A few ones where he'd broken or fractured something, although they weren't really visible. Only the mental reminder he had of them. Not to mention the mental scars. So much trauma packed in there, if someone were to bust his head open it'd pop out like confetti. Or maybe that'd just be his brain.

Sabre sighed, feeling himself begin to shake. His eyes watered and a lump formed in his throat. He choked, gripping the sleeves of his arms. He watched as the tears began to flow, scowling at how ugly he was when he cried. Why couldn't he be a pretty crier, if anything? Why'd he have to look the way he does? Why couldn't he be born at least a little prettier? A little more perfect. He wouldn't ask for too much. Maybe normal eyes. A better jawline. Better build.

His thoughts were broken by the front door opening and the chatter of his friends. He could hear them rustling with things in the kitchen, setting things on the table and counter. Time said something involving his name before his steps could be heard walking to the staircase. Sabre sighed, picking his bandana off the sink and tying it back on.

Time knocked just as he finished, calling Sabre's name.

"Hey, Time. Welcome back," Sabre said, opening the door after rubbing at his cheeks. Time most definitely noticed the redness and the slight waver in his voice, but didn't say anything. The taller smiled gently, nodding.

"Hey, Sabre. Feeling up for something? I've got a new cookie recipe I really want you two to taste test for me."

"Oh- uh, yeah. Of course. Your baking's amazing." Sabre laughed, grinning as the steve grabbed his hand and started pulling him down the stairs. Dark greeted the player, noticing the state he was in but not saying a thing either, only pulling Sabre into a hug and distracting him with talk of their venture for groceries.

Sabre sighed contently. Maybe he could go another day with being himself.

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This was also meant to be posted earlier but my phone hates me SOB 😔 some parts in either here or the last chapter were meant to be italicized but when I copy from my doc to here it doesn't italicize it for me so I have to go back and do it myself, but I can't find where they are so 😭

Words: 1216 (WOO 🥳)
Time: Almost an hour