#{depression is gone but my love for drawing never returned}

[maliland]

RESENTMENT: PT. 2

"how could you lie?" part one angel(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader includes: angst, infidelity, homewrecking, depressing themes, & heartbreak (men being disappointments per usual) synopsis: you used to describe your experience with love as one of complexity and simplicity all at once, but after you learn what your boyfriend did at a party with another girl while you were at home and sick, your heart is left with irreparable damage and an abundance of resentment. wc: 6.7k divider by @/cafekitsune a/n: this is gonna be my last sv fic for a hot min (or forever) 😭 savor and enjoy. ik the tag has been dead and you all have been malnourished, so yw! <3 icl, idk how i feel about it but y'all can lmk 🫶 (p.s: before ppl start nothing non-pg ever happened in this fic at any point in time. just kissing. ion get down like that 👍 thanks.)

when you arise in the morning and before you lay your head to rest at night, one thing is always definite: you are human.

humans are imperfect, so they make mistakes. genuine ones. honest ones. you’ve mixed up salt and sugar while baking chocolate chip cookies. you’ve hit your best friend square in the face while trying to spike a volleyball. you’ve missed assignment deadlines, forgotten about chores, and left the grocery list at home, all honest mistakes. a boy pressing his lips to another girl’s, though he has another he calls his own, is not a mistake. if it were up to you, it’d be a crime punishable by execution. between miles and yourself, no mercy was shown for the loyal one of you two, so why should he be granted any? infidelity; the act itself is the murder of the most important, sacred muscle, so why not return the favor?

you know your intentions before you give into the temptation of them. you knew miles knew. he knew from the moment that girl pulled him over to a vacant bedroom. did he think they’d simply exchange pleasantries? even so, why partake in such with someone who clearly has a taste for you? a taste for insulting the one you love most just as easily as she breathed?

these are all questions that would never be answered truthfully. you’d have to make peace with the reality or the only peace you’d know was the eternal kind that followed after death. and to think that you once believed in those stupid children’s fairy tales. miles made you believe that that kind of love could be real life. he almost made you believe you could attain the happy ending you always dreamed about. you were so close to it too. to have your bubble burst like that by the person you love most..? cold. way colder than the shivers repeatedly sinking down your spine.

it was a stupid idea to leave your window open.

the medicine you had taken for your cold had you knocked out in the warmth of your bed and you slept soundly. the chilly air would blow through the curtains now and then. the wind was only a light breeze at first. it felt nice, maybe even comforting, but when night finally fell, the current picked up. you were woken up by an icy blast hitting your face.

you groaned and slowly rose up, pulling the covers off of you before you swung your legs off of the bed. you drowsily staggered to your window and forced it shut, drawing the curtains closed only seconds afterward. you would just have to hope the mishap wouldn’t make you any sicker than you already were. you mindlessly carried yourself back to your bed and submerged yourself under the covers. you grabbed your phone, which was lying face down beside you.

you unlocked your phone and went straight to instagram, tapping through everyone's stories. most of the people you knew were at the party. parties weren't your cup of tea, so you couldn't really say you wished you had gone. you were more of a homebody than you'd like to admit.

you eventually got to miles' story. all he had posted was a single picture of him and his group of friends, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. seeing your boyfriend happy made you happy. you smiled to yourself before switching to your messages app. you had notifications from both miles and your friends who were also at the halloween party. you opened miles’ messages first.

9:37pm

miles: hey ma (9:37 pm) miles: i know you’re probably sleeping right now, but i wanted to lyk that i got here okay (9:37 pm) miles: i’m with my friends (9:38 pm) miles: ima go now but i love you 💗 i’ll text you soon (9:39 pm)

10:23 pm

miles: yooo just checking in 🙌 miss you a lot (9:36 pm) miles: hope you’re enjoying that nap ❤️❤️(9:37 pm)

you: hey i’m up now 😈😈 (10:52 pm) you: i saw your ig story 🙃 looks like you guys are having fun so i’ll leave you to it (10:52 pm) you: text me later, i love you so much more 💓 (10:53 pm)

you swiped out of your text thread with miles and opened your group chat with your three best friends, sasha, lani, and nae. while you met sasha and lani not too long ago, you’ve known nae for damn near your entire life.

dollz 💘 9:13pm

sasha: how’s my bedridden baby? 🫶🫶 (9:13 pm)

lani: she’s been unconscious for mad long 👎(9:14 pm)

nae: we should ditch this party n go to her place instead i’m BOREDDD (9:16 pm) nae: and what if bro’s dead (9:16 pm)

jana: girl (9:20 pm) jana: she ain’t dead 🤦‍♀️ please. (9:21 pm)

sasha: ofc not (9:23 pm) sasha: nae's right.. this party lowk boring asf🧍‍♀️ can we leave soon? (9:25 pm)

jana: yes 💋 (9:25 pm)

nae: thought you’d never ask. (9:26 pm)

10:57pm

you: y’all i’m up damn! 😭 (10:57 pm) you: is it really that boring? miles seems to be having fun (10:57 pm)

nae: he buggin then cuz it's been like two hours and this party is STILL boring as shit (11:01 pm) nae: i tried to give it the benefit of the doubt but nvm. (11:01 pm) nae: my niece's fourth birthday party was x100 more turnt than this (11:02 pm) nae: i’m stuffing all the good snacks in my purse nd then we outta this bitch 🏃‍♀️ i’ll be in the car y’all (11:02 pm)

jana: bruh🧍‍♀️ (11:03 pm)

sasha: nae beloved, you already put hella snacks in the passenger seat (11:03 pm) nae: so? 🥱 (11:04 pm) sasha: you don’t need no more tf 😭😭 big backed hungry ass (11:04 pm)

you: yes she does (11:10 pm) you: she’s thinking of me, duh (11:11 pm)

sasha: damn you right.. maybe 🤷‍♀️ (11:15 pm) sasha: or maybe she'll eat up all the snacks and i'll laugh in your face and say i told you so 🤌 (11:16 pm)

jana: uh huh... anw girl can we come over? (11:18 pm)

you: i’d say yes but miles is coming over soon (11:21 pm) you: y’all can come over first thing tmrw morning tho 💋💋(11:21 pm)

right as you sent that message, your phone began to ring and you were met with your own puzzled reflection on the screen of your phone. it was a facetime call from nae. you couldn’t come up with a reason why she’d ever need to facetime you from a party when she could text or call. nevertheless, you picked up. you forced yourself up and out of you warmth of your bed, throwing your comforter and many, many blankets off of you.

you answered the facetime call as you turned the knob to your bedroom door to leave, making your way downstairs to the kitchen so you could raid the pantry for food. when nae’s face popped up on your screen, you noticed that the interior of sasha’s car surrounded her, but neither sasha or lani were anywhere to be found.

“hey danae, what’s up?” you said into the phone as you shut the microwave. you'd settled on instant ramen since you were feeling lazy. when you caught a glimpse of your best friend's face on your phone screen a second time, you clocked that she looked worried and that made you worried too. it didn't help that she was dead silent. you raised an eyebrow. “you alone? where’s lani and sasha?"

“something happened,” nae spoke slowly, disregarding your question. her eyes were bolting back and forth between her phone camera and sasha’s car window.

“what?” you shook your head, your eyebrows furrowing in concern. you set your phone down on the counter, propping your elbows onto the surface while you tried to decipher nae's expression, but that got you nowhere.

“i’m gonna send you something. just hold on a sec.”

“nae, what’s going on?” you inquired, a puzzled expression painting your face.

she didn’t reply. you pressed your lips into a thin line and closed your eyes in both confusion and frustration, strings of air passing through your nostrils. whatever nae was about to tell you was obviously nothing good. you didn't anticipate anything but the absolute worst. you opened your eyes again when your phone dinged. it was photo attachment from nae. you furrowed your brows blinked a few times before tapping it, pulling up you and your best friend's text thread. your entire body went limp when your brain registered the monstrosity on your screen. all you could do in the moment was stare in shock. it was a clear shot of miles and arielle at the party making out in some random bedroom upstairs. arielle who wouldn’t quit making moves on miles. miles who would shut down her pathetic attempts every time. arielle who’s always hated your guts without reason. miles who swore on everything that you were the only one he loved. 

it was all so ironic, truly. arielle was dressed as an angel, a sparkly halo hovering above her head as if she wasn’t concomitantly sinning—shamelessly home-wrecking. and you could see it now: the embodiment of your relationship, or the so-called home you and your boyfriend shared. in your mind, it was ablaze and you were curled up all alone inside of it. you were left to succumb to the searing flames, burning to nothing ash while all that you and miles share burned beside you. 

the boy would come home to the walls still burning and in the process of self-purging. he wouldn’t find you, rather the remnants of what used to be you. the ash would slip through his dirty, unfaithful fingers as they trembled in horror. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. he’d desperately try to grasp you. he’d try to save you and scoop debris into his sweaty palms so he could salvage what was left of you. still, there was nothing. there wasn't a single thing in the universe that could aid the way you felt in that moment.

now, miles would have to mourn you, for he killed you. and he didn’t even know it yet.

your eyes were squeezed shut because they had to be deceiving you. you must not be fully awake yet. the medicine must be making you hallucinate. you were dreaming. you were a hundred percent dreaming. that wasn’t miles. 

how could that be miles?

“i was looking for lani and found… them instead,” nae muttered. “i don’t know if he saw me take the picture, or what. i left to tell you right after.”

you swallowed hard. though a million different thoughts were racing through your mind, none of them came to be verbal. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, because what do you even say when something like this happens? would anything you said be enough? would any quantity of words in any given order be able you place the way you felt? unlikely. highly.

your eyes continue you gape at the photo, even though the sight was making your stomach churn. you couldn’t look away. your eyes were fixed on miles' hands on arielle's hips, then her hands cupping his cheeks. nae was still on facetime explaining whatever it was she was explaining, but you weren’t listening. her words were static to your ears. there was a pit in your stomach and it was growing deeper and deeper, your wounded heart subsiding along with it. you set your phone face down on the kitchen counter and began to clutch your stomach. you swore you were going to convulse and vomit from how ill you felt.

“[name]!” nae snapped her fingers into the mic. “yo, you still with me? i’m coming over. i’m gonna call an uber right now.”

you blinked and shook your head, flipping your phone back over and taking a deep breath. you couldn’t just shut down, not now. you had something you needed to confront. someone.

“no,” you sniffled. 

you didn’t even notice the hot tears rolling down your cheeks. you quickly swiped them away with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie. the realization that it was his hoodie you had on made you freeze up again for a few seconds, and then you buried your face in the palms of your hands.

“what do you mean ‘no?’” nae frowned, bringing the speaker up to her ear in case she heard you incorrectly.

your phone dinged three times. in your notification center were text messages from the devil himself.

miles: hey ma, i’m leaving now (11:25 pm) miles: the party was okay at first but it got boring (11:25 pm) miles: i’ll be there in like fifteen ❤️ (11:26 pm)

you just stared at the messages, biting your bottom lip until it began to draw blood as a plea for you to stop. the taste was metallic in your mouth, but your teeth didn’t budge. you didn't want miles over anymore, but it was far too late to tell him to turn around. it's not like he'd check his phone while he was driving, anyway.

“i keep losing you, girl."

you had forgotten all about nae for a second, her voice grounding you back to earth. you exhaled, your breath coming out unsteady. “miles is on his way over. after i talk to him, i’ll call you and you can come over then.”

“okay, babe,” nae nodded with a gentle sigh. 

“do… lani and sasha know?” “no, they don’t,” nae denied. “i wouldn’t tell them before you.” 

you pressed your lips together and silence engulfed your kitchen. you let your mind wander some more. after all this was over and done with, you'd have to explain to all of your loved ones that miles cheated on you. the very thought of having to tell everyone—your family, your friends, your dad—it embarrassed you. you couldn't stomach the very thought, so you exhaled deeply, opting to take it one step at a time. nae spoke again. “listen, if you don’t call or text me in, like, an hour, ima come over there.”

“okay," you nodded.

“remember that you deserve nothing but the best of the best. i love you so much, okay?”

“i know,” you tried to convene a smile. “i love you more.”

you hung up the phone and rid of any stray tears on your face. after nae's face vanished from your screen, you were left staring at you and your boyfriend's message thread. without putting much thought into it, you began to type.

‘cool, i’m jus—'

your fingers froze. you couldn’t text miles. he didn’t deserve anything so little as acknowledgment. you repeatedly hit backspace until the bar was blank and shut off your cell.

you sat idly on one of the kitchen stools behind the counter, your instant ramen long forgotten about. in the moment, you were feeling indifferent as a result of shock. still, you knew yourself better. when miles finally confessed his sins, you’d want to scream. you’d bombard him with a million questions at once, only to angrily invalidate any explanation that passed through his adulterous lips. you’d want to burn every handwritten love letter, every piece of clothing, and every gift, because they all meant nothing now.

he was a liar, and he knew it. if you could kill a man and face no consequences, miles might’ve been gone before he even walked through your door.

while you waited for him, you sat there and tortured yourself in thought. you couldn’t help it. was this planned? was this the first time? had he always thought of her like this? did he wish you were her when he was with you?

when you’d exhausted all of those questions, you began to think back to your own actions and behavior as you scrolled up on your texts with him. 

maybe i said something that upset him? but i think he would've told me... right..? or have i been distant? no, that’s not possible. we talk every day. is he bored of me? is that it? am i boring? none of these texts are showing signs of boredom, so what is it?

you'd soon resorted to flipping through the pages in your diary. you were really good about documenting your day-to-day life. if something happened with miles in the past that your brain wouldn’t let you dig up in the moment, surely you would’ve written it there. the pad of your index finger slid across the rough pages as your anguished eyes skimmed the entries. ten minutes in, you still couldn’t find a thing. you'd give anything for a straightforward answer, but you knew it wasn't going to come from miles himself.

when you heard a key grinding into the keyhole of the front door, you slammed your diary shut and jumped off of the stool, knocking it over in the process. you sprinted upstairs to your bedroom, shoving the journal under your pillow. as you trailed out of your room, you closed the door behind you and braced yourself for the worst. 

you shuffled back to the kitchen and picked up the stool from the floor, setting it upright. you caught a glimpse of miles unlacing his jordans at the front door. this was real. 

“hey. i thought you’d still be in bed,” miles grinned as he approached you, spreading his arms for a hug. he wasn’t in his costume, but in a red hoodie and black sweats. he must’ve gone home to change. his costume probably smelled like arielle’s designer strawberry-scented perfume, the one everyone compliments her on. she never shuts up about it.

“hi,” you whispered, accepting his hug in an attempt to seem normal. “i was, but i got hungry. how was the party?”

miles smelled like his favorite cologne, except the scent was unusually potent. it wasn't faded in the slightest like it normally was after he'd been out and around other people. the deplorable amount of effort he was making just to mask the truth infuriated you. it angered you even more that he clearly wasn't planning on telling you anything. if you hadn't seen it yourself, you might've never known.

“it was ight,” he shrugged, loosening his grip on you after a couple of seconds. you hated yourself for wanting to hug him for just a little while longer. he sure as hell didn’t deserve it, but for all you knew, that was the last time you’d be in his embrace. he let his hands fall down to your waist instead and it made you shiver on contact knowing he had his hands on arielle's waist not even a full hour ago. “would’ve been better with you there, y’know. you feelin’ okay now?"

“mostly, yeah,” you responded blandly, your throat tight and your voice fairly groggy. “still a bit tired.”

you didn’t know how to bring it up. this wasn't something you could beat around the bush about. you found yourself deep in thought. so deep to the point where you didn't notice that miles had started talking. you were busy staring off into space with half-lidded eyes, way past his gaze. he clocked it and moved his head so that your eyes were boring into his by force, his eyebrows lowering in concern.

“is everything okay?”

you cleared your throat and gently pushed his arms off your waist, stepping back as you began to blink back tears. there was no easing into it. standing there in front of miles pretending like everything was okay was already bad enough. it felt like you were twisting the knife that he plunged into your chest. eyes glossy, you swallowed hard and batted your lashes a few more times, desperately trying to rid of the tears that threatened to spill.

“i know you kissed arielle at the party,” you barely managed to speak the full sentence, your voice cracking when you spoke her name. “and i’m confused.”

miles’ eyebrows knitted to be one as if this news stunned him. you wished you could hear all his thoughts from start to finish after you spoke. you wanted to know whether he was planning to lie or tell the truth. would he gaslight you or admit to his wrongdoings? you wouldn’t find out now because you didn’t give him an option. this already hurt enough and it would end the same either way.

“nae told me. and she sent me pictures.”

silence fell between the two of you. it felt like it was eating you from the inside. the chirping of the crickets outside and the noise from the refrigerator running slightly compensated for it. not much.

“i just wanna know why you did it. and why her? why the girl that hates me with every last atom in her body?” you broke the silence, shrugging your shoulders. you were hugging your arms, rubbing them in an up-and-down motion as if you were cold.

miles was dumbfounded, guilt painting his features. he couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. you wondered what you would say if you were in his shoes, but it didn’t give you any insight because you knew you'd never do this to him, so you gave up. instead, you stared at the neat middle part in between his two signature braids that cascaded down the back of his head, down to his shoulders. you’d braided his hair only a couple days ago, back when nothing seemed impossible—nothing like now. 

though he wasn’t, miles’ hair still looked clean, freshly done even. what if arielle had redone his braids for him? she did say she was practicing, and she'd made it a goal to practice on him. you mentally cursed yourself for worrying about something as minuscule as miles' braids at a time like this. you didn't want to give yourself another reason to freak, but your brain wouldn’t let you rest. not even in silence. if miles wasn’t going to give you an answer, you’d send him on his way and come up with one by yourself.

“i don’t know why i did it,” he finally retorted.

“oh, word?” you laughed humorlessly. you were trying not to slap the hell out of his shamefully beautiful face. “it happened not even two hours ago. you know why you did it. your memory is sharp, it always has been, so tell me.”

miles exhaled, rubbing the palm of his hand on his forehead. “look, she came onto me while i was grabbing a soda. it was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing! it didn’t mean any—“

“that’s what they all say, morales,” you cut him off with a scoff. “it didn’t mean anything but somehow you traveled from the kitchen downstairs to a spare bedroom upstairs so you could swap spit without anyone catching you?!” miles tried to speak, but you cut him off again. “were you even gonna tell me? because you came up in here acting like shit was sweet as if you weren’t just making out with the girl you swore i’d never have to worry about, meanwhile, i was home, sick! a fucking cold, miles!”

“i wasn’t gonna keep it to myself. i didn’t wanna hurt you,” miles said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “it wasn’t gonna happen again, i swear.”

none of the words miles spoke were convincing enough for you in the slightest, so you disregarded them.

“did i do something to you? are you holding a grudge about something and trying to get me back?!” you yelled, your voice trembling.

“no, it has nothing to do with you!” he hollered back, squeezing his eyes shut as if he was stressed out. he had no right.

“so then why the fuck would you go and do this shit?!” you were silent for a few seconds, chest heaving up and down while your heart beat out of your chest. your breath was sprinting away from you and you were trying to catch it. "it's bad enough that you kissed another girl, but arielle?"

miles pleaded, “it was a mistake.”

“damn right it was!” you narrowed your eyes to slits. “i can’t believe i trusted you, like, seriously. you’re sick.”

“i let you down, princessa, i know, i’m—“

“sorry?” you finished his sentence, folding your arms. you were far more angry than sad now. “miles, you weren’t sorry when you were kissing her. don’t be sorry now either. you were gonna kiss me with her bright pink lipgloss dried on your lips like it was nothing. you were gonna sit here and play me like i'm stupid. you were never gonna tell me!”

miles couldn’t counter that. he knew you were right, so it was back to uncomfortable silence apart from your hefty breathing and sniffles. miles had never seen you so angry. you'd never seen yourself so angry. there was no one else to blame but miles. you had no idea where to go from there. it was only after you asked the question that you were about to ask on impulse that you realized you should’ve wrapped this up many minutes before.

“is this the only time this has happened?”

miles was hesitant, his eyes growing wider. “yes!” he spat.

miles had a tell—not just his disinclination to answer your question the way he normally would, but also the way his eyebrows would position as if he wasn’t so sure himself. his teeth would clench behind his sealed lips, but you could tell because his jaw was tight and he swallowed hard, and he wouldn’t know what to do with his hands. 

you knew all of this about miles, yet you felt like you were gazing into the eyes of a stranger. 

this wasn’t the miles you fell in love with.

you muttered under your breath, “you know what? i’m wasting your time... and my own. you won’t have an answer that’s both truthful and something i wanna hear. we’re done, you and i. give me the key and get the hell out.”

“mami, come on—“

“nigga, deuces! i said leave!” you snapped as you backed away from him, holding your hand out.

miles dug deep in the right pocket of his black sweats, handing you the key. you flinched when your skin made contact with his. you didn't hesitate to trap the key in the palm of your hand, dropping your arm back down by your side. miles sighed to himself and trudged to the door to lace his shoes back up. you didn't even watch him leave, opting to turn around and battle the tears threatening to spill from your eyes instead. when you finally heard the front door shut, you rushed to lock it. you turned around and pressed your back to the door, face twisted in pure disbelief. 

this was real.

you slid down to the floor and pulled your knees to your chest, your cries echoing through your empty house. you’d never been more grateful that your father was gone for the weekend. miles wouldn’t have heard the end of it. at least now you had time to make up some lie to cover for miles' ass, and it'd be the last damn time.

not even five minutes passed before someone knocked on the front door three times and you sniffled. miles was going to drive you insane. “go the fuck away!”

“it’s me, baby,” a muffled voice said from outside, but it’s one you recognize, and it’s most definitely not miles.

you wiped your tears with the sleeve of miles’ hoodie and stood up, twisting the lock to open the door for your best friend. she was holding a box of pizza in her hand with a tote bag strap over her shoulder.

“you’re early,” you mumbled, one of your hands pressed against the rim of the door.

“i ubered home and got my car. when i got here, i just parked and waited,” nae pushed past you. you closed the door and locked it again, following her to the kitchen, where she set the box of pizza down on the countertop. “you wouldn’t have called me either way. i know you.”

she was right. you weren’t mad at her for being there though. she had always been so good to you.

nae walked over to the dining table and placed her tote bag in one of the chairs. “i brought your favorite type of pizza, and i stopped by the store to grab some snacks and soda. those are still in my car though, so—”

“i don’t think i can stomach anything right now,” you stated as you rubbed your arm. “i broke up with miles.”

saying that out loud felt weird. and final.

“oh, my love,” nae’s brows lowered and she shuffled over to you with open arms. she wrapped them around you and you did the same, sighing into her shoulder. you really didn't want to cry.

it hadn’t been long and you were already over feeling the way you did. you wanted to fast forward to the part where you got over miles for good. as an attempt to console you, nae was rubbing your back in a circular motion. 

“you did the right thing,” she spoke lowly.

you withdrew from the hug and slightly opened your mouth, fixing to ask nae a question only god knew how to answer. “why did he do it though?”

she led you to the couch in your living room and sat you down, massaging her thumb over yours in a back-and-forth motion as your hand stayed clasped in hers. you stared down at your lap, sniffling every couple of seconds and swiping away stray tears.

“boys are just greedy, babe,” she shook her head. “so very greedy. they want it all. there are so many different reasons why people cheat. it’s difficult to pinpoint just one. my random guess is that… miles has issues?"

“issues?” 

“mm-hmm,” she hummed. “internally. maybe he's insecure about himself, i don't know. whatever it is, it doesn’t justify infidelity. you were more than enough, it was him who was lacking."

“i don't get it. i mean, none of this makes any sense… unless i'm blind or stupid, it came out of nowhere. literal thin air. and when i asked, he said he didn't know why he kissed her,” you muttered.

nae sighed. “even if he isn't lying, he still did it.”

“i know,” you nodded. “and i'm sure it wasn't the first time. that’s why i left him.”

“and i’m so proud of you for that,” nae gave your hand a tight squeeze. “walking away isn’t easy for anyone. it takes forever for some people, but you did it just like that.” 

“yeah, well, i kinda had to. it’s bad enough that arielle is gonna rub it in my face until we graduate, and even after that, she’ll probably find a way to .”

“there won’t be any of that,” nae promised. “miles isn’t going to take her seriously—if he even takes her at all. he lost you because of what he did with that bitch. he won’t even be able to look at her without feeling guilty.”

“she can have him, i don’t care either way,” you scoffed. that was a lie. you did care. you cared more than you’d let on if you ever even admit it.

“yeah, you do,” nae raised an eyebrow as if she had effortlessly read your mind. “let yourself feel. it’s how you’ll heal.”

“oh, i’m feeling alright. i’m weighing the pros and cons of murder,” you shakily exhaled, balling up your fists and closing your eyes. “i can’t believe this nigga. seriously.” 

“i’d help you, but i’m not going to jail for him and neither are you.”

you let out a soft sigh, your gaze now fixed on your lap. the tears welling up in your eyes were beginning to cloud your vision. how someone could throw away so many years of loving one another so easily was so far beyond you.

“nae, i’ve been with miles for so long. he’s always been there—i don’t know how to be without him. he’s why i gave love a chance after swearing not to... now he’s shattered my perception of it. the worst part is i should hate him, but i don't. somehow, i still love him and—”

“hey,” nae cut you off. “that’s normal. how you feel is normal.”

you sniffled. “is it?"

“pshh, girl, yeah,” nae assured you, flicking out her wrist. “listen, breakups are terrible. you’re gonna cry and scream. you’re gonna wish you never met him. you’re going to go through old texts, swipe through old photos, and mope in his hoodies. all of that is okay. the worst thing you could ever do to yourself is force yourself not to feel,” nae paused. “if this is who he really is, then it's not your loss. i know it doesn't feel like that right now, but trust me... it just takes time. i don't know how long, but i know my best friend, so no matter how long it takes, you’ll be better than good without miles. i promise." "i'm still gonna miss him," you muttered, sniffling and drying your tears as they fell. nae wrapped her arm around you and exhaled. you sobbed into her shoulder, releasing all the pent-up frustration you'd been concealing in the name of keeping your cool. you'd never felt so inconsolable in your life. "i know, babe. i know."

❤︎₊ ⊹

it was late. 3:28am. time had never moved so slowly. you were genuinely considering calling 911 and telling them you were suffering from a heart attack. you were thoroughly convinced that this was damn near the same exact thing.

the moon wasn’t full tonight, but a waning crescent. it reflected you and how soulless and dejected you felt. the moonshine bleeding through your curtains was also the only source of light you would tolerate, the rest of your bedroom completely dark. you lay on your side facing the window, allowing the icy gusts of wind to hit your face. you were practically drowning in a sea of blankets all while still being in miles’ black hoodie.

nae was gone. she’d left about two hours ago, but not before suffocating you in countless hugs and forcing you to eat a slice of pizza and drink two glasses of water, despite your not wanting to ingest anything due to your unwavering nausea. you told her you’d be okay alone. you knew you wouldn’t and so did she, but you wanted to be alone, so she gave you your space and promised to check in on you when the sun rose. you loved nae dearly and you'd never take her for granted. you felt lucky to have such a kindhearted best friend.

you'd been in a 1v1 with your thoughts for a while now. your phone was powered off and shut away in one of your nightstand drawers to help resist urges. you hated that you wanted to call miles, but you did. you wanted to scream at him. belittle him until you just couldn’t anymore. and you wanted him to sit there and watch you do it without protest. you wanted him to be honest and tell you the truth. you wanted him to promise it would never happen again, and then you wanted to curl up under the covers of your bed with him and sob in his arms while he planted kisses on your forehead, apologizing profusely. you wanted him to tell you he loved you until you believed it again.

you couldn’t do any of that—you wouldn’t. it’d mean you have no respect for yourself. it felt like you hardly had any now, so you needed to keep the scarce amount that remained.

your thoughts were blank and sporadic all at once. you’d never been through a breakup, but you had a rough idea of how these things go, so you spent some time mapping it out in your head.

you'd eventually have to meet up to exchange one another's belongings. maybe rio would apologize on miles’ behalf and say she’d always love you. she’d call you a couple times a week. the calls would eventually come slower and grow more infrequent. soon, the calls wouldn’t come at all. even if there was the acknowledgment that rio’s arms were always open for you, they’d still feel closed. you'd treat them as such.

you'd barely eat because you couldn't stomach a single thing. you'd rot in your bed and binge all your favorite movies and shows. you'd go to war with the urge to run back to miles. you'd read old diary entries where you were gushing about how much you loved him and how amazing he was to you. you'd look back at old photos and videos. you'd reread old texts until you were sobbing so hard that you couldn't breathe.

you'd write letters that nobody was ever going to see and all the tears you shed would smudge the black ink and ruin your fancy penmanship. you'd lie to your dad and tell him that your relationship had just run its course and that you and miles needed to work on yourselves. your friends would check in on you, and of course, you'd tell them that you were okay every time, even if that was the furthest from that.

word gets around fast. when this dreadful weekend was over and monday crept up on you, you'd have to return to school and deal with the piercing stares and shameless gossip. you weren't ready for any of it, because now, everyone at school would know you as the girl who got cheated on by her long-term boyfriend for arielle. rumors would spread. words would be twisted and lies would be told, both about you and miles. in retrospect, it was all the more embarrassing for miles, but you still felt utterly humiliated. not to mention that you had no doubt in your mind that arielle was ready to run to his defense, preferably by kicking you when you're down.

sometimes, just for a fleeting moment, you'd forget about it all and your mind would go quiet. your heart wouldn't swell in longing and you wouldn't feel sick to your stomach. it never did last long before the same thoughts you desperately wanted to leave you alone started to pester you again. "but you two seemed so in love!" nosy girls at your school masking their prying motives behind what they thought were "supportive words" would soon tell you. the worst part is that you'd never know how to respond, because you thought you and miles were in love too. he was your sun and you were his moon. how could you so quickly forget that the sun didn't need the moon to shine, it was the other way around? you thought it was and always would be your heart tethered to his, but now you were left with a broken chain and a heartache.

you thought things would be different with miles. you truly did. now you knew that anyone could screw you over even if they crossed their heart. there weren't any exceptions, not anymore. miles proved that you can do everything right and still get done wrong. it wasn't fair. you should've known you weren't exempt from something like this happening, yet you still let yourself believe you were. maybe you jinxed it, or maybe you thought your case was special. maybe you thought this would never happen because you believed you were special. you only did because he made you feel that way.

you were sick and tired of brooding over your misfortune. you rolled onto your back with a frustrated groan and gaped at your ceiling, the cold air from outside still blowing against the side of your face. as exhausted as you were, sleep just wouldn't grant you sanction in its assuaging embrace.

what hurt the most is that you were so sure that you'd bagged a kind of love that was for the books. the kind of love you thought you could only dream about. though you weren't searching for him, the stars sent you miles morales. in your eyes, he was perfect. you loved and adored him, and swore he was your soulmate, made just for you. he was godsent and you never wanted to let him go, until tonight, when you learned that you were never the one who needed to hold on to begin with.

you came to the humbling conclusion that maybe the reason people told tales of faultless love was because real love was far too sickening to bear. it was merely a way to cope. nothing more, nothing less. maybe "happily ever after" had been a hoax all along. all the fairytales you had read growing up always began with “once upon a time”, but your story with miles ended with it, because loving him was easy—once upon a time.

maliland ©

#heavensent 🪽 #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #miles g morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman #miles morales x black!reader #e 42 miles morales x reader #e 42 miles x black!reader #miles morales #itsv #atsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #black fem reader

[probablyhuntersmom]

I hadn't spotted these a year ago:

Oh my god, guys???!!! Parallels:

2. These are the same face - the Depression Face.

It tugs at my heart like nothing else, because...

3. Oooh never paid attention to this:

4. These lil' guys were moving and animated while sleeping here, aww:

5. The screenshot below, to me, is foreshadowing that Hunter may have expressed his wish to study at Hexside...but once that wish is actually granted, he too is gonna be depressed - at school, specifically - for months, and frustrated that he simply cannot be enthusiastic about classes the way he initially hoped. He'll push and push himself and judge himself for why he "can't even" enjoy lessons he's supposed to be excited about:

6. Do you think they took Hunter to the zoo's bird hall, before he carved Waffles (I personally view it as a good element of exposure therapy)? :

7. People usually put the S1 screenshot of Luz drawing light glyphs, next to the one with Flapjack fading away...but I saw this too:

It makes me wanna chew extra recycled cardboard about Luz and Flapjack parallels, specifically. Because of what they both offered to the world, if you think about it:

8. If Camila went through an outfit change like this in her nightmare:

Imagine the mayhem of Hunter's many nightmares with his many outfits :S

9. A really good reference for how Hunter healed pre-timeskip, is this sequence, where the order has been altered a bit below:

(who knows, maybe Willow recorded a lot of vids of him on her scroll T___T)

10. Wow this sums up the show doesn't it:

11. Ugh you can't tell me that...they wouldn't have had a similar-ish mirror scene with Waffles and older Hunter to these, if we had a full S3 or more seasons:

Him approaching a mirror with no palisman beside him...I can't imagine how that was in those horrible months. (Maybe he does this before heading out to conduct a Palisman Adoption Day)

12. I feel really happy, confidently believing that he unlearned this body language:

in the presence of adults, especially his new parental figures. Coercive control wasn't a dominating theme in his life anymore. And while we didn't see it onscreen, he would've found the space to even initiate connection via physical touch with his parents, like what Luz naturally does here:

I say "physical touch" specifically, because to quote @idlescree's amazing video analyses, Hunter's own physical body - not just his mind - was the ultimate and most intimate battleground for Belos to exert control, by possessing Hunter and using him as a puppet in the most direct way possible. So for Hunter to get physically close to family to express love after Flapjack's death, in spite of terrible spooky thoughts that he might still gravely injure others...that isn't a small feat at all.

13. I think his casual sweater is a plain gold colour, and his cosplay outfit has its yellow colour: because he's still influenced by Belos.

The black of the wolf tee and in the cosplay, feel to me like foreshadowing of his post-possession grief. Even after Flapjack is gone, Hunter still thinks about Belos and is still walking around in the same cosplay outfit. His newfound freedom and healing is reflected in his timeskip design (calm midtones of orange and blue): when Belos has no more hold on him via a painful history. We would see a progression from the predominant darkness of the black colour to those peaceful midtones on his clothing.

14. Best one saved for last! It's a headcanon, but I draw a few connections. @childlikegoblinqueen and I were talking about him likely returning to the place where poor Flapjack was slain, even if it takes a number of years before he can do so. Waffles will be with him.

Imagine...instead of running frantically in the night:

he calmly strolls during a beautiful Halloween evening, with autumn leaves blowing in the wind once again:

There are no horrors awaiting him, and very importantly, he can believe that.

And he visits the spot at the lake, and puts his hand to his chest:

but for once, he can smile while doing that specific gesture. All the times that he has put a hand to his heart in the show, he wasn't smiling (link). He then leaves and then returns to his family (walking in the opposite direction of the portal above) to have an actually joyful Halloween celebration.

#for flapjack #Thanks to Them anniversary #the owl house #thanks to them

[tripleyeeet]

DEPOLLUTE ME, GENTLE ANGEL

SUMMARY: Gale's been hiding behind his pride for far too long. Or at least, Astarion thinks so.

PAIRING: Astarion & Gale

WORD COUNT: 2,053

WARNINGS: Descriptions of decomposition and injuries. Brief mentions of dissociation.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, this idea has been consuming my brain since I read @ssalballoon's comic about rotting gale. Obviously the concept isn't mine and is heavily inspired by their art, so please give them some love! <3

MASTERLIST

-

Something’s wrong with Gale. 

Often smelling more like a batch of tanned leather than a human wizard, Astarion can’t help but linger at its presence. Despite the way it violently rips through his senses —clouding his vision like a putrid fog of death— the smell is strangely intoxicating. A temptation of sorts, plaguing his thoughts with a powerful sweetness wrapped in rotting flesh. 

It calls to him in ways he doesn’t quite understand. As the days pass, he can feel it clinging to his nose, assaulting his senses each time the wizard draws near. Ripping through him like a bloodied knife reeking of day-old viscera. 

Most days, it’s presence is fickle. Ebbing and flowing like the tides, there are moments in between when he’s able to breathe a sigh of relief and forget the strange desires that sit at the back of his mind. Moments where the air is pure and unalloyed —no longer tainted by whatever shit Gale’s got collecting underneath that wretched bandage of his. Ones where Astarion can breathe without the threat of a fragrant assault each time the wizard passes. Allowing him time to think of himself rather than focusing on the increasing injury that Gale hides in plain sight. 

Because Astarion can tell it’s getting worse. As the days turn to nights and circle back, he can see the subtle changes in Gale’s behaviour. How the wizard’s charm has slowly dampened over time, leaving nothing more but this suppressant version of himself, aimlessly floating from one camp to the next. 

It drives him mad if he’s honest. Watching the way Gale refuses to cook with his hands. Instead choosing to waste his precious Weave to pilot those ridiculous apparitions. Or how he no longer waves his hands like a man gone mad each time he speaks. It’s depressing really, seeing him swiftly wither away. Witnessing the downfall of his autonomy each time he struggles to hold his staff during battle. 

Even conversations with him have changed. Once resembling an elegant show of vast grandeur, talking to him has become nothing more than some menial task. A boring back and forth lacking that past boisterous quality of wit. 

Astarion knows it’s because he’s exhausted. Slowly rotting from the inside out will do that to you, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying. Especially because he’s become embarrassingly reliant on the bastard. Not that he would never admit it out loud but the man’s become somewhat of a constant in his daily routine. A moment in time he stupidly looks forward to each time they both find themselves awake before everyone else. 

Considering neither of them sleep, over the weeks it’s become a constant to greet each other before breakfast. To simultaneously wander out of their respective tents when the sun comes up, stretching their aches and pains away before meeting by the snuffed-out fire. Usually, Gale will greet him like an old friend, his tone cheery or playful, while Astarion merely nods and grumbles his way back to consciousness, eventually giving in to whatever conversation the wizard’s decided to focus his energy on.

It sounds preposterous given the circumstances but he enjoys the company. More so than he probably should, he thinks. Which makes the decreasing energy of his friend’s soul all the more painful to watch.

And to smell. Especially now that they’ve returned from battle, caked in the blood of their enemies —coated in dirt and sweat. All of it mixing together to create a cocktail-induced headache Astarion has to pretend not to notice.

Clearing a lump in his throat, as soon as they’re back he rushes for the lake just South of their campsite. Paying no mind to the rest of the party who follow leisurely behind, he quickly takes a deep breath to try and calm himself down. Sucking the tainted air as he closes his eyes, he pauses to allow it to filter through his lungs, counting each second spent struggling to maintain any sort of composure before he inevitably lets out it. 

With just an inhalation or two he can tell Gale’s only a few feet back, moving slower than usual. Most likely sitting at the tail-end of the pack in order to push through the pain of his injury.

As they continue walking to their shared destination, Astarion can’t help but pity the poor fool, knowing how difficult it must be to move after all that excitement. Considering throughout their encounter he could see him struggling, it’s a miracle he’s still upright. Having spent the majority of the fight using his staff more like an anchor than a weapon, Astarion could feel the irritability of everything coursing through his veins —rushing through him alongside the adrenaline of battle.

It quickly became obvious he shouldn’t have been there in the first place. What with him whiffing every other shot and defiantly going against Tav’s orders. Having him around had become nothing short of a liability. And based on how hard he’d managed to push himself, he knew it too. 

Which is why he refuses to stop, even now as they make it to the water’s edge and begin stripping down to wash away past thoughts and actions. Instead of acknowledging his need for help he merely continues to ignore the issue, walking down to the furthest point of the lake so that he can hope to slip away unnoticed. 

Immediately going against such an idea, Astarion follows behind, keeping just enough distance so that he can remain undetected as he watches the wizard struggle to lower himself to the rocks below. Staring at the way his hands shake with the kind of violent energy Astarion’s far too familiar with.

Frowning at the memory of having to dig himself from his own grave centuries before, he can still feel the rupture of his knuckles against the dirt. How they cracked under the pressure of his desperation, threatening to break just like Gale’s now seem to do. 

Remembering the irritation of the filth beneath his nails, Astarion can’t help but flex his digits at the same time Gale swipes his good hand across his face. Watching how the frustrated features disappear behind his fingers before returning with exhaustion.

A sight that immediately makes Astarion frown. A sort of sadness filling up his chest at the image of his friend struggling to maintain whatever semblance of strength he has left. Sympathy latching onto his bones in the form of cautious steps that force him from his hiding spot. 

“You look like you could use a hand.” 

Before he can even think to stop his offer, Astarion moves to the wizard’s side, acting as if the smell doesn’t bother him. Pretending like the scent of the stained cloth that coats the lower half of his arm doesn’t remind him of a festering corpse splitting open to reveal spoiled organs.

“Care to lend an arm as well?”

Unfortunately, Gale's joke falls flat. Not necessarily because of the material but because of the tone. Its lack of joy hitting Astarion’s ears in a way that furthers the ache. Forcing him to kneel in front of his friend with a sigh. “You know you’re starting to worry the others.” 

“Am I?” 

Ignoring the question, Astarion’s fingers gently inch towards the top of Gale’s dressings, searching for an opening —twitching reluctantly against the sweaty fabric as they continue to sit in silence. Neither one of them able to speak out of fear of revealing too much. 

Which only increases the pain inside Astarion’s chest. Like a knife, it pushes through his lungs, creating deep craters for the rotten scent to penetrate —holes the size of Gale’s hands that now rest limply against his lap.

Peeling away the soiled cloth, Astarion holds his breath while Gale lets out his. Both of their minds struggling not to veer off course as the bandage is torn away, revealing sick skin. Showing them both the polluted flesh that wraps around broken-down muscle and bone. 

“You reek, you know. Of... whatever this is.”

All Gale does is hum as he reaches into the pocket of his robes, prompting Astarion to narrow his eyes until there’s a fresh set of bandages placed in front of him. Then he merely grabs them and begins to work, slowly unravelling them as he looks at Gale’s expression, noting the slight blush across his cheeks. How his eyes grow heavier with each passing moment they spend together. 

“You should really consider finding a cure,” he says. “For my sake, obviously.” 

Grinning then, Astarion expects some sort of quip, but again, all he’s met with is silence. The continued absence of Gale’s wit refusing to acknowledge the obvious. Most likely rejecting the idea that for once the vampire’s making sense. 

A fact that fills Astarion with annoyance, knowing the pride Gale feels is something he deeply relates to. How every day he’s met with the struggle of asking for help versus manipulating it out. Each moment he spends with any one of his companions he has to resist the urge to beg for their assistance. To ignore the desire to drop to his knees and cry for a forgiveness none of them are aware of in hopes of earning their aid. 

It’s the same reason why he’s currently helping Gale. Why, instead of granting the wizard time to brood by his lonesome he’s instead inserting himself into his space. Taking it upon himself to woo and distract —making it seem like it’s merely just kindness. 

It's what he always does, despite the reluctance that sits at the back of his mind. How he earns the trust of all the people he encounters. Similar to Gale, he uses his pride to his advantage, showing it off to anyone who will see it. Producing it as if it were a mask instead of the blade that constantly nicks his skin each time he weaponizes it. 

Always hiding behind its decorative design, Astarion allows his confidence to do the talking. To earn their trust as they continue towards their common goal despite knowing that it’s wrong. 

“Apologies for the burden I’ve become as of late.” 

Too engrossed in thought, Astarion nearly misses Gale’s apology. Focusing on their shared advantages, his voice is faint at first, barely hitting his ears as his fingers absentmindedly work around his arm. Echoing in the back of his mind over and over again until it’s clear as day, forcing him to look up. 

His eyes are distant in a way that breaks the vampire’s heart. Shattering on impact, he has to swallow down the shards that try to escape, feeling them slice across his esophagus as he tries his best to ignore the sting of Gale’s expression. How it grows in both distance and familiarity the longer the two of them stay.

“You wouldn’t be a burden if you set your pride aside for once.” 

Gale huffs and then blinks, returning all at once. His moment of absence becoming nothing more than a memory that both of them will eventually forget. “You’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

Astarion lets out a single ha —one filled with total falseness. “You and I are nothing alike, wizard,” he then lies, even though Gale’s right. 

Far too often he sees himself within him. Lurking in the strangest of places, it’s as if Gale’s behaviours often mirror his own. Always reminding him of his motivations —prompting him to question why he does what he does as he’s forced to stare at these distorted images. Ones that look familiar but somewhat changed to better suit the wizard’s needs.

“Perhaps… perhaps not. I suppose it depends on the finer details.” 

This time, Astarion’s the one to remain silent. Opting to ignore the tightness in his chest that presents itself to turn his attention to the bandage now fully wrapped around Gale’s arm, allowing his fingers to trail down his wrist to grab his hand. 

“Well, for the right amount of coin I’m sure there’s a decent healer in Baldur’s Gate who could help you,” he says, once again smelling that scent. Feeling it rush through his nose like a rapid river of disgust, forcing him to clear his throat and mind as he raises the wizard’s knuckles to his lips before leaving without another word.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo@jjfchk@idiotsatan@bluestuesday@bloopthebat@art-by-greenie@heneralmoon@sukunababe@dreamingaboutyousworld@ranfithegood@haniscrying@liadamerondjarin@the-lake-is-calling@marina-and-the-memes@rookieoftheyear@zraloci-cpr@kaetmo@snickerdoodle-daydream@wowowwild@d1anna@raswiet@conniesbbymama@venus-wrts@demonicthorns@kihten@deadglamsheep@sanscas@spammypasta@leighsartworks216@rose-gold-blue@p1ssmagg0t@hellish-writes@ghostinvenus@otayz@sexysquatch@sleepyeclair@colorful-anxieties@alina-exe@ilana-the-lasagna@lillifer@girlwiththepapatattoo@y2cade@acelin-ginsberg@pinkuranium@catrad0rable@scarletrosesposts@qwnamidala@itsrosebabe@bunnyperi@queenofcarrotflowers-s@tatumadams20@spkyxszn@chlort@f3v3rs@awkwardwookie@joy-the-reader@warm-milk-with-honey-blog@vertigocrime@iyis@wildpiper@pebblethestone@tillywasneverhere@bex-03@kaetmo@revemiya@staticspouse@itzagothamcitysiren@djarinsmixtape@when-the-night-came@epicy0n@bababahannah@sleepyred1703@lotus-99@lofcompass@r4d10h34d5@vampninjaz@itsmekalou@offbrandhand@yikes-buddy@konenichi@rainonarden@oceanbluesixeyes@bodtyworship@maydayitsjay@greasyslimebucket@yeeteth-the-raven@fantasyfairysworld@allexthakatt@flowersaretheshit@morglyne@thespectacularspaceace@cephiss0@use-your-telescope@furblrwurblr@kloverfield@angelofthorr@writervaul-t@starved-kitten@minixluvr@crowley--aziraphale@sapphicwren@alionera-blog@jennithejester@dezedrol@thisisew@saladalpaca@applepiewithbacon@httpbiohazard@aurasyn@nerdoodles@kingpinthedevil@itzkawaiix@domainoflostsouls@silverskylan@uminootome@helpidkwhatimdoingwrong@deadlyinfernos@blackbirdswhispers@sarahskywalker-amadala@writingmysanity@f3v3rs@jayjones03@quietlyebbie@optimisticprime3@eyes-for-daze@sunnytalia3@megoshh@maddiedott@cappsikle@mostbeautifulnightmare@lynnlovesloki@simpytheshrimpy69@astarion-archive@smaranshakthi@autistic-deer@shadowfeart@freckled-petals@candied-lavender@hp-art-studio@ghouligan@satelliteapotheosis@waywardwitch-hel@pandimoostuff@mythoughtsofinsanity@ilovelovelylove@oneandonlyizabelle

TAGLIST NOW CLOSED!

#depollute me gentle angel #astarion x gale #bloodweave #bloodweave fan fic #summer writes

[floppydiskettess]

alone (chamber x reader) (hurt/comfort)

a/n: im writing this in a super bad episode, if it sucks im sorry. i just need some sort of comfort right now and with this i can pretend i have someone who cares about me. i can pretend that someone actually notices that i am hurting.

tw: sh (hitting self, nothing gorey), severe depression, depressive episodes

when chamber returned to your shared living space, he was not expecting to be greeted to the suffocating silence surrounding the house.

"mon ange? are you here?" he called out but recieved nothing back. had you gone out on a mission?

he set down his items on a counter nearby and approached the bedroom. as he got closer he heard the small sounds of shuffling. when he sat right outsid ghe door, he heard the shaky heavy breathing on the other side just barely audible.

he frowns and worry crosses his face, he knocks on the door immediately.

"darling...? what's wrong? can you please let me in..?"

when you open the door, he lets out a soft gasp as he takes in your appearence. tear stains are present and running down your face from your exhausted dark eyes, just behind you he can see a bunch of little items thrown around as if an animal had ran through the room. he looked around before noticing the soft purple bruises forming on your arms. he nearly started crying then and there.

"mon dieu..what happened mon couer?" he says quietly as if he were trying not to spook you. as he takes in the state of you and the room, you begin crying harder. you messed up HIS space...he is going to be so mad...heisgoingtoleavemeand-

you feel two hands on your shoulders attemptijg to ground you. "hey hey...listen can you follow my breathing for me love?" he says as he pulls you into his chest so you can hear his breathing.

as you mimic his breathing, he softly praises you. "good job...thats it. i'm so proud.."

the only sound in the room is the two of you's soft breathing with the occasional sniffle. he loving rubs your back as he whispers softly into your hair.

"do you feel any better now dear?" when he feels your slow nod into his shoulder he smiles and hugs you tighter.

when you pull away from him, his rests hos hand on your cheek and slowly caresses his thumb over it.

"..do you want to talk about it..? it's alright if not. just tell me what you need."

"i just...why can't i be good at anything...? you have your gun designs...i just have nothing i am good at. i can't draw, or fight, or even be good at video games.."

"oh dear...i'm sorry you feel like that...i promise you that your "thing" will come soon alright? you don't have to be perfect for me or anyone else. now, can i ask where the bruises came from...? ....did you do that?"

seeing you shakily nod is all he needs before he grabs your arm and kisses it softly

"oh honey...why? you need to be careful. i love you so much ok? if you ever feel like this again please call me..i don't want you to suffer through this alone.." he says in a shaky tone you have never heard before. he sound...scared. observing the room around him, he can tell in your throwing match with the random trinkets that you had hit yourself on various items..his heart nearly shattered. when he hears you small muffled apology, he sighs.

"you have no need to be sorry, i am simply happy you are safe...now, what can we do to get this off your mind hm? would you like to watch that new show you told me about?" he said as he gave you a caring gaze.

the rest of the night was spent cuddling on the bed, you quickly fell asleep feeling drained from the stress. when you woke up, the room was tidy and you were pressed gently into his bare chest as he rubbed your back and let out soft breaths into your hair.

"you are not alone anymore mon amour. please, if you need lean on me. i will support you."

sorry for the self indulgent post. i literally described my morning but added someone there 💀. uh anyways i hope you all are doing ok and if you need support to reach out!

(please do not vent on this post)

#valorant x reader #fanfiction #valorant #valorant brainrot go brrrrrr #valorant fanfiction #valorant x y/n #valorant x you #chamber x reader #chamber valorant #vent #vent fic #trauma vent #hurt/comfort #i am lonely #please notice me #this is a cry for attention

[whalesforhands]

IM BACK AGAIN!!! (“I need this au too where she wakes up in a hospital bed and is so confused like where is everyone and walks all the way back to school in her gown and scares the absolute crap out of everyone being all depressed and everyone’s like they’ve seen a ghost but readers just worried if they’re all alright and fretting over them adjkhghg”) OK SO I totally agree that losing reader would be the equivalent of Gojo losing Geto. But this time they also include Shoko on their mourning (unlike in the manga which has me sobbing). Maybe something where she just snaps at them abt pushing her away when reader was her best friend too. And they slowly realize what they were doing and then all mourn together. Gojo was going through your things one night cause he desperately needed something to ground him from a nightmare (he sleeps in readers room all the time now) and sucked in a breathe and stilled when he found his favorite hoodie in your closet. He tentatively took it and almost cried because it still smelled like you (he’d given it to you one day when you were cold and you forgot to return it and wore it all the time when he wasn’t there bc you really liked it). Geto wears a bracelet all the time now and only takes it off for a shower. He also constantly plays with it when his thoughts get too much and uses it to ground himself. It’s black and white with moon and star charms that he’d specifically picked out for you when he got it during the star plasma vessel mission at the beach. He was going to give it to you after but never got the chance. Shoko is much quieter and more absentminded now and when she was looking for her old lighter that she gave you (hot pink and she knew you were me er gonna use it but she gave it to you anyway bc she likes sharing the things she likes with ppl she cares abt) she found it in your drawer along with a little old booklet. Her face was peaking out out and when she opened it she found that it was a little album filled with secret pu fires she’s taken of her, Gojo, and Geto. Reader wasn’t in any of them Shoko noticed absentmindedly as she fell to her knees clutching the little booklet to her chest. Uh I meant to talk abt the au where reader lives and wakes up in a hospital bed but the hcs for after she dies started rolling in and I just had to share. You don’t have to write either I just really wanna talk abt your amazing au. Also waters great but you need to eat something bro empty stomachs aren’t fun when you notice them. This got super long my bad!!

- 🍊 anon

oooh 🍊anon i agree with you but i got some twigs to crack here, no hospital and everything is ok here, just me rambling ahahah sorry

i will admit to u that something similar to the hospital thing was written before pt.6 was posted, i just dragged u along cause i wanted someone to talk to, sorry ahahah

in dyf, it is apparent that all 4 of them care and love each other a lot in different ways and i’ve tried to get that message across as much as i can, as they all shine in their own unique manner

however, keep in mind this is also an au where i elevated the relationship between geto and gojo. when this happens, i imagined a form of love so deep that they’d be willing to turn over the sky and earth for each other

in a way, dyf geto and gojo also ‘see’ each other the clearest, you could even say their relationship at first ‘overlooks’ both ieiri and reader as well

it’s honestly through little moments with dyf mc that causes them to slowly draw back this thick, heavy curtain from up upon their shiny podium, moments that include dyf mc directly inserting herself between them and having somewhat of an impact on their moral compass, and how they view ‘average’ sorcerers

so when mc dies, the curtain just kinda drops back down? not to say that gojo and geto don’t care about ieiri now that mc’s gone, they do, but dyf mc was just on a different level

not to mention that shoko is someone who prefers to exclude herself before the situation escalates whilst mc is someone who prefers to jump in with 0 regard for her own safety and wellbeing

all in all, when they mourn, shoko keeps to herself and even hates her own ability at some point. she is the only one capable of using reverse cursed technique on others. what is this talent for, if she couldn’t save someone she held so dearly to her?

suguru doesn’t like to think about the situation. even gaslighting himself to such a horrid point that, he thinks if he turns around, he’ll see you right there, smiling up at him and asking if he wanted to share some tapioca juice with you.

(he’s severely mentally knocked down)

satoru revels in your memory. he constantly thinks of you in his round the clock refreshed state. satoru is busy as it is, picking up the slack now that suguru is mentally out of commission, trying desperately to juggle work and being suguru’s pillar

but… how do i put it? both suguru and satoru now hate their jobs more than ever. taking orders from the higher ups, kill curses, protect non-sorcerers… suguru is more disgusted than anything. satoru wants to go down the path of hope. the path that he wants to make suguru see as ‘the best one’

but he lives. he persists on the ‘good’ path. satoru is there to ground him, to be the anchor that prevents him from drifting. gojo can’t lose him. he just can’t.

so gojo doesn’t grow up with the mindset of ‘i won’t allow anyone to be alone again’ but the mindset of ‘i won’t allow myself to lose anyone again’ so it does turn him fiercely protective over the reminders and keepsakes of you (e.g. shoko, geto etc etc)

ahahah i’m talking too much gbye

#nvytalks #dyf au #🍊anon

[minigirl87]

It's ok, love, we're here

Marc, Steven & Jake x FReader

This is pure self-indulgence, but it is also dedicated to anyone needing some some. I hope it makes you smile. The ginger cat mentioned and in the photo is really my cat, and yes, he is called Ramesses, I love Egyptology. And being biased, my Rami is the cutest boy.

Summary:

The boys are worried about the reader after they receive a message. The know of Readers mental health issues. They return after a mission and comfort reader and make them feel loved, safe, and wanted.

Warnings:

Depressed reader, mentions of depression symptoms, crying.

Word count: 958

The boy’s had been gone for over a week now, on a mission for Khonshu. You had been your happy, quirky self when they left. You had heard from them when it was safe to contact you. The last message raised concerns for them.

As Marc reread the message again, worry wrapping his thoughts like a blanket that’s too tight. The boy’s know you struggle with mental health and their very protective of you. He got into the taxi, giving the driver his address. he popped in his earphones to talk to Steven and Jake. Without the driver suspecting anything except him having a phone conversation.

“Somethings definitely wrong, mate” Steven says, his voice raising and octave with panic. “Hermano! If someone’s done something to her, they’ll regret it” Jake seethes, but Marc can sense his worry.

“There’s no point threatening people Jake” Marc states, closing his tired, sad eyes and pinching his prominent nose. “ Plus, I think J/N would tell us if she was hurt, wouldn’t she?” Steven chips in. “we’ll soon find out!, I’ve not told Y/N I’m my way home.

Marc exits the taxi getting his bag, He takes a deep breath and heads into the entrance. Exiting the lift as he couldn’t face the stairs at this stage. He walks and stands in front of the flat door. Not hearing anything out of the ordinary, He enters not knowing what to expect.

The flat is eerily quiet, no music, pages rustling, or even the tv on. You're not on the sofa, but they know your home. “Y/N's not at work, her stuff here, Hermano ” Jake states. Marc looks to the coat rack, settling him a little.

“And Gus, Gus II, Pezoro, Cleo (you each have a goldfish) and Ramesses (the ginger cat) are ok, mate. Trust Steven to notice the animals, Marc thinks to himself, walking into the kitchen. Relief washes over him when he see’s some dishes in the sink and rubbish in the bin.

“Good at least Y/N been eating” he says to the others. He walks toward the mug, Steven got you with your name in hieroglyphics on it for your birthday. Feeling the mug, it’s still warm, and another sign you're here.

Marc turns as he hears the bathroom door click, and you padding back to bed. His heart breaks hearing you sobbing as the bed creaks as you surround yourself in the blankets.

You look so small and fragile to them.

“Y/N baby!” Marc says, putting a knee on the bed, leaning over, stroking your cheek gently. “Marc is that really you?” You say catching your breath, throat hoarse from hours of tears. Taking his jacket and kicking his trainers off, he climbs in the bed with you

“yeah baby, I’m here. Are you okay, my love?”

His words soft as he draws you to his warm, broad chest, one arm around you resting on your lower back, the other stroking your hair.

“Are you ok sweetheart” staring into his deep chocolate eyes that are full of love and concern for you. Brows furrowed, and a solitary silken curl falls between them

“ I’m fine baby, I’m more concerned about you” He says as you brush the loose curl away. “Are Steven and Jake okay?” You answer.

It never ceases to amaze the three of them how they are always your priority, no matter how you feel.

There’s a slight movement as Marc’s eyes close. And then open and your staring at Steven soft eyes, and you love how there’s little crinkles on the side of them. He hugs you tightly to him, kissing your forehead. “I’m better now I’m with you, love. Are you okay?

“And Jake” as their smell and touch relax and sooth your every muscle. And you mould into their protective frame.

There’s a slight movement as Stevens eyes now close. “Don’t worry about me. Mi Vida, let me worry about you.” He says, stroking your back. He leans down and kisses where your heart is. You look into his eyes, dark with emotion.

The boys are all different in major and minor ways even though the body is the same. But their eyes show their hearts and their souls.

And you break with their words. Hot tears stream down your already puffy checks. You grab their shirt in your fist as your body shakes against them.

You don’t notice the change this time. But Marc holds you tight, gently rocking you, and shooshing you till you calm down.

“I’m sorry love” you whisper “I don’t really know what’s wrong with me. In the last few days I’ve been overthinking about everything” you breathe out in one.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Marc asks, kissing you on the lips gently. “I didn’t want to annoy or worry you on your mission”, You quietly confess.

“ Never, baby, Don’t say that again. We love you, love you are our everything” Marc says, cupping your chin. You believe him, looking into those chocolatey orbs.

“I love you all so much. Thank you sweetheart” You shuffle towards Marc, putting your hands behind his neck. Finally nestling them in his curls grounding yourself, you peck his nose.

“There’s no need to thank us, You are the sun to our moon, Baby. We’re here for you now and ever” You pull him toward you and kiss him deeply. Tears stain your cheeks again.

“Baby” he brushes them away. You take his hand in yours and kiss his fingertips. “It’s ok, sweetheart there, happy tears”. nuzzling into his warmth again, he kisses your forehead.

You both drift off to sleep, the first proper slumber you’ve each had since they left. You feel loved and safe in a way that one else can make you feel.

*Spanish to English*

Hermano = Brother

Mi Vida = My Life

Pezoro = Pez = Fish and Oro = Gold

Cleo is the goldfish from the animated Disney film Pinocho. I'm sorry I can't have my little one fin wonder dead. Ramesses is my cat, and I love my little guy so much.😊

@melodygatesauthor @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @my-secret-shame @missscarlettangel @missdictatorme @jake-g-lockley @steven-grants-world @romanarose @campingwiththecharmings @writingforcurrentobsessions2 @welcometostayingawake @novanitee @micheleamidalajedi @annautumnsoul

#moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #jake lockely x you #comfort #depresión #i need a hug

[cold-heart-warm-writings]

Graduation

Daycare! Hanma x y/n. ~ 750 words. Angsty? Eh.

-

It takes a lot to make Shuji cry.

When you get home that night, you freeze in utter panic as you hear him crying on the couch. You peer around the doorway, and see him hunched over, head in his hands. You assume the absolute worse when you hear a choked out “They’re gone. They’re all gone.”

You rush over to his side, and whisper “Shuji... hey, Shuji...”. He looks up at you, his face and eyes red from crying for who knows how long. “What happened?” You asked as gently as you could, trying your best to keep your own tears at bay. You had never seen him cry. You had seen him emotional. Angry. Upset. Depressed. But never crying. “Who... who’s gone?”

“They’re... gone.” Shuji repeats again, his voice getting caught on the words. “Who?” You run through all of his friends, and your blood runs cold wondering which one of them is gone. 

“My kids. At the daycare. They’re gone. They’re off to kindergarten. Today was their last day.” Shuji says, the look in his eyes splintering your heart.

Everything finally clicks into place as you realize why he’s seemed so distant and on edge lately. Preschool graduation had finally arrived. Your mind flashed to the scribbled note Shuji had written on your shared calendar on the the fridge. You sighed. You really dropped the ball on this. Shuji was careful about remembering your important days and meetings, figuring out little pick me ups, and was just overall attentive when you needed the extra care, and here you were forgetting about preschool graduation, even if they weren’t your own kids.

“Oh Jesus, Shuji, they’re... they’re not dead.” You say softly. “They’re just going on to kindergarten.”

“Then why do I feel so, so… so empty!” He exploded in a breath, tears rolling down his cheeks. “I won’t be able to look after them anymore. I won’t be able to roll my eyes in exasperation when they get on my nerves. I won’t be able to draw chalk animals that they then criticize like highly trained art critics because the head was too big. I won’t be there to comfort them when they fall down or are sad or just need a hug. And how do I know their new teachers will be good to them?! There are some really shitty teachers out there! And the world can be bad and scary and, and, and...” Shuji trailed off, returning his head to his hands as another sob rocked his body.

“Shuji.” You gently rub his back. “You have done what you can. You have loved them and cared for them and taught them what they need to know.” You reassured him.

“But some still don’t even remember the alpha-” Shuji rasped out.

“What they really need to know.” You interject. “That there are adults that love them. How to be a friend. Who to go to when they’re in trouble. That they matter. They will be okay. And, most importantly, they know where to find you. They know they can always come back and see you. They will miss you too. I mean look.” You gesture to the fridge, covered from top to bottom in cards, notes, and pictures drawn by all of Shuji’s students. “They know how hard you work and how much you care. And now it’s time for you to share that with a new group of students. You can mourn for those leaving. I will give you space and time for that. I just also hope that you can then spend some time getting ready to meet these new kids and planning how to make this one of their best years yet. Because everyone needs a teacher like you. Someone silly and fun and willing to listen to all of their stories. You will make this year their most memorable.”

“It’s not that hard, they’ve only had three other years.” Shuji sniffled, rubbing at his eyes. You roll your eyes, and give him a playful shove, grateful the tears have stopped.

“Still.” You say with a smile. “Take the time. And then get ready.”

You two spend the rest of the night going through Shuji’s memories with his past group of kids, laughing at all of their antics, and cuddle on the couch while watching the latest movies his kids always talk about so that he has something to talk about with any new kid who might be nervous on the first day of class.

#i might've teared up writing this... today was my kids' last day and i just :( im going to miss them #some of them werent even there today and so i never got to say good bye #ive been with these kids since march... even though they could be little shits i will miss them so much and i hope they are happy as they go #on to bigger and better things #daycare! hanma #hanma #shuji hanma #hanma shuuji x reader #hanma shuji #hanma shuji x y/n #shuji x reader #idk #these tags are a bit much #Tokyo Revengers #tok rev #dont mind me just listening to dear theodosia and never grow up on repeat

[twotangledsisters]

I checked out your Tiktok (I assume your Tiktok?), love your MoonSunEugene thing!

I noticed you had other drawings on there I haven't seen on tumblr though (unless I'm just stupid and can't find them)! I was wondering if they'd be posted here or just on tiktok?

Hi! Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed my little AU ideas XD

And yes, that is my TikTok account! It's not really Tangled related... But it's got Tangled content on it at the moment xD

And you're not stupid! Firstly, because tumblr isn't always the easiest for finding stuff, but secondly because you are right and there are pieces on TikTok that aren't on Tumblr.

Anything that's not in the 'My Art' section on my blog's page, you can assume was never uploaded! So, for example, there's a Cassandra profile and a New Dream fanart on TikTok that hasn't been uploaded.

Will they be uploaded?

Maybe...

Look, I'm going to be fully 100% honest. I'm not in the best mindset right now. My anxiety and depression are not behaving great. I'm on my meds, talking to doctors, eating, sleeping . All the important stuff are A-OK under control!

So I don't want anybody worrying!

However, the one thing I get the least control over is emotions and overthinking.

Recently I've been overthinking uncontrollably, and that's lead to several quite unfortunate meltdowns.

And I realised that one of the triggers to overthinking episodes was Tumblr. Simply because my art never does great on tumblr. I know some people really like it and whenever I get nice comments on it, I am just thrilled! Super grateful and love the mutuals who are there for me no matter what! I cannot understate how much I smile at every nice comment!

However, most of my art won't make it to ten notes, and even my best pieces might make it to fifty if they're super lucky.

And when I'm on my dashboard, I see soooo much amazing art that just gets so much love and attention! And I have this really clear memory of another artist saying 'oh, whenever I post in this fandom people interact so much!'

And now when I post art and it only reaches mutuals, I think 'why doesn't the fandom like my art?' which then leads me to overanalyse every single piece, searching for every imperfection until I hate that drawing.

Or, worse, my brain will go 'it's not the art, it's you, they hate you and want you dead'.

Which is fully not a logical conclusion to be drawing.

Unfortunately, logic and anxiety refuse to see eye to eye.

Then another thing is, I'm not really looking at my dashboard at all. Because it's triggering me. So then when I do find the bravery to post a piece of art, and people are nice and interact, I feel like I'm a horrible person. Because I'm receiving these lovely positive words, but then I'm not seeing other people's posts and returning those nice words.

Again, not a logical thought because my contribution is the art.

But I still feel guilty.

I think I've gone on a pretty major ramble there... The question was, will I post them?

The answer is still maybe.

If and when, I'm having a good day and find the energy, I'll probably share the finished pieces.

But right now I'm just avoiding triggers. Even if the triggers are completely illogical, I know!

#ask answered

[road2nf]

helped remind me in one of the hardest times of my life that things change, and people can make change, and there is always a space in this community for me.

Nerdfighteria has given me a community, and the Vlogbrothers helped me stay hopeful.

I have been a Nerdfighter for about five years, though never a very active one till the last year.

I have always enjoyed the Vlogbrothers videos, but most often I would watch the ones with interesting titles or that people suggested to me, and was never an every video kind of fan.

I believed strongly in what Hank and John were so adamant about; that is, about doing our part to make the world suck less, but I was in college and I spent much of my time working with kids and teens and volunteering already, that I didn’t feel the need to take place in a lot of the Nerdfighters events.

It wasn’t until college ended that suddenly I felt a real draw for the Nerdfighter community.

I attribute this to the fact that, when college ended, I was suddenly alone and community-less. Throughout college, I’d had a close group of friends who I passed much of my time with. And when I wasn’t with them, I was with friends who were studying to become teachers like myself, or who worked in art and animation, loved cartoons, volunteered time for kids, etc. Even in my loneliest moments in college I had people around me.

That was not true after graduation.

When I graduated, almost all of my friends went out of state. I had gone to a very unique college that draws students from all over the country, even the world, and when it was over most of them returned to where they had come from.

Of my 5 closest friends, four of them moved back to the west coast, and the other one is still a student. I moved by my lonesome to Boston.

I have never felt more alone.

Nerdfighteria became my community. The Vlogbrothers videos gave me hope and encouraged me to believe that, while the time right after college sucks, it would get better. Nerdfighter events gave me something to look forward too, and friends in the area that I could connect with. John’s honesty about his struggles with depression when he was not much older than me made me feel less alone with my problems, and Hank’s approach to being angry at the world gave me some strength to deal with my own frustrations.

All in all, the Vlogbrothers and Nerdfighters have helped remind me in one of the hardest times of my life that things change, and people can make change, and there is always a space in this community for me.

I am grateful to them, and wonder at times if I could have even made it through the year without them. They positively affected my life by reminding me to live it.

- Hannah (ctast.tumblr)

#nfstories #vlogbrothers #nerdfighters #nerdfigtheria #dftba #community #connection #college #loneliness #belonging #friends #gratitude #wonder #thankful

[sunpoweredog]

I've never seen this song in any otherkin playlist but it is so good and so fitting! I really want to share it with all of you

Lyrics under the cut!

When the full moon bathes the meadow in its bright and silky dress

Why do I feel depressed, my love?

When the curtains wave their

Shadows across your white and milky breast

Why do I feel unrest, my love?

Do the hollows of the night prepare in me this fright of our parting?

Then at the break of day, my love, where have you gone away

With not one word to say of goodbye?

Why would you not have stayed, my love, oh say you're not afraid

Of the promise that we made

Oh why do the willows in thе wind run shivers down my skin of sorrow?

I have gone to whеre the wind may not blow upon my skin

Where the stars may not shine upon my name

I shall soon enough return to where I long and I yearn

And I swear that I will be the same

Do the leaves in the trees still

Whisper in the breeze "Where are you?"

I have gone to face the beast and to drivel at his feast

May the two of us never be seen

And my love, may you sleep as the ocean fall deep

And I swear I won't tell you where I've been

Sunset is upon me now, and evening's drawing near

And still you are not here, my love

I thought you called my name so clear, but howls are all I hear

They are not yours my dear, my love

Yet that shadow in disguise who

Stares through werewolf's eyes, who are you?

You must not be afraid of the changes that I've made

I have come now to bring you away

To our bed that I have made with the seven stones I've laid

And covered in the finest of clay

Lay your head upon the ground, you shall never be found

I will guard against dangers that be

Until dawn comes around you must not make a sound

And I swear you will forever be with me

And I swear you will forever be with me

#therian #canine therian #otherkin #therianthropy #otherkinity #alterhuman #werewolf #werewolfkin #Werewolf kin #wolf therian #wolfkin #caninekin #clinical lycanthropy

[translunaryanimus]

The Fable of The Lonely King

-A @halfstack-smp story-

CW: Death, Vaguely worded descriptions of depressive spirals and grieving, Victim Blaming

Long ago, just after the Bastions collapsed, an Enderwalker warrior returned from a war, shaken and stiff. He had lost his Dearest friend to the illnesses of the Nether and fought until his body gave out on him. Despite all he had seen, he was welcomed once again with open arms and celebration to the kingdom he had left.

But he could not enjoy them. For how could a grieving man enjoy the opposite of his sorrow when he was so buried in it?

"Endiemon!" Their companions called, "Join us and celebrate the return of our soldiers!"

But Endiemon did not join. He sat, lonely and sad, diving into the memory of his Dearest friend. How could everyone celebrate when he had lost someone so dear to him? How could they be happy when he was not? How could they not notice how upset he was?

And through all the celebration, and over the many prosperous generations to come, Endiemon became bitter and cold. If he could not have what he had lost, then they could not have their new kingdom. Why should they get to move on? Why should they be allowed to grow when so much had been lost.

And so Endiemon continued to grow bitter and hateful towards the people of his home kingdom, unable to think about anything but what he had had before, and nothing about what the future had in store for him.

Endiemon began to hate life itself.

Despite the hundreds of years passing, the thought of their dear friend continued to weigh on Endiemon, deeper and deeper, until he was fully consumed by grief.

And in his grief, Endiemon slipped.

One night, while the king was asleep, Endiemon crept into his bedchamber and threw him from the window, ensuring his demise. The king had not noticed he had been attacked until he was already in the air, falling to his death.

With the king gone, Endiemon stole his robes, dressing himself up in his place and placing the far too small crown atop his hornless head.

And that is how the citizens found him in the morning.

"What happened to our king?" They asked.

"He slipped and fell from the window, I tried to save him." Endiemon lied. "He shouted that I was to take his place as he fell"

And so the populous buried their king.

And the kingdom mourned.

And Endiemon sat on the throne, the new and ever lonely king.

And yet, the sadness soon lifted, but Endiemon was still sad. He could not be happy, for he had lost more than the kingdom ever had.

They should not be allowed to be happy, Endiemon decided, and so once again they grew bitter and cold, pushing away all that drew near to them.

And the colder and colder Endiemon grew, the more his kingdom began to hate and fear him, and the more and more began to leave.

Finally, it was just Endiemon and one more citizen.

The young Qilin, thick hair tied back, approached the ever lonely king. In one hand she held a sword and the other, a single cornflower, and her face was set in a strong but confident frown.

And she spoke.

"King Endiemon, why do you drive all of us away? You cannot mourn forever."

"I can mourn for as long as I wish!" Endiemon snapped, getting to his feet. The Lonely King towered over the young Qilin, clawed hands outstretched in front of him, grasping towards her form for something longer past. "You will never understand what it feels like to lose all that you had! There is no forgetting what happened, why do you all move from it so quickly?"

"Because Life is beautiful and the Universe holds untold stories for our futures." The young Qilin responded, for she was wise beyond her few years and loved the universe as it loved her.

"The universe does not love me any longer" Endiemon spat, drawing his own axe from its sheath. "So I cannot love it. I cannot love something that hates me so much as to destroy my Dearest friend. I cannot love something that has made me so sad for all these years."

"Then you cannot love yourself." The young Qilin steadied her sword. "You looked too far into the past and have forgotten your future."

"I HAVE no future!" The Lonely King hissed, swinging his axe in wide arcs at the young Qilin, but she stood firm, hopping nimbly over each blow.

And when The Lonely King raised his arms to strike down on the young Qilin, her sword struck through his chest, causing him a moments pause.

"You only have no future because you couldn't bring yourself to see it." She said, bringing The Lonely King to his knees as he slowly began to perish.

"You were too focused on all that you had lost that you could not see how bright your future was. And now you will forever be known as Endiemon, The Lonely King."

With a final hiss, The Lonely King Endiemon spat on the floor of the castle, cursing it with his dying breath to crumble along with him so that he would be lonely forever.

And so it did. The young Qilin buried The Ever Lonely King in a bed of cornflowers, laying her last gift to him atop where he lay.

And the kingdom crumbled around him as he lay.

So do not covet what you lost in the past like The Lonely King, for you will forget what lies in the future, and fall out of love with life. And there is no greater sadness than the sadness of one who has fallen out of love with the universe itself.

#halfstack smp #The Lonely King #The Lonely King Endiemon #minecraft #enderwalker #fable

[tema-makes-art-sometimes]

Since I reblogged the cool post about Octobun’s Mirculous server, I wanted to show off my character for that particular AU!

I plan to add Seychelles and Romano, but main muse is Villain France, Beaupaon~ Have his backstory/bio!

Name: Jean Epine

Age: 39

Birthday: July 26th

Gender: Genderfluid (Any Pronouns)

Orientation: Panromantic Asexual 

Location: City Center 

Occupation: Fashion Designer

Personality

Jean is a character who takes his time admiring the world around him and the beauty within it all. He’s someone who’s been through hardship, but always tries to look on the brighter side of the world. He’s passionate and confident, and often comes across as more self-centered than he is. He believes in the importance of love and acceptance, and nothing to him is more important than the love and care of oneself and the ones around you. 

While many focus on sharpening their swords, Jean sharpens his tongue and his mind. He will find ways to talk his way out and around any problems. He never goes into something he’s unsure he won’t come out on top of. However lately some of his emotions and actions have become rather erratic and confusing, with seeming no goal or benchmark in mind. 

When not putting on a smile for others he can be a lot softer spoken and more introspective. Sometimes you can see it if you catch him relaxing when others aren’t looking. His face goes from his smarmy, carefree smile, with sparkles of mischief in his eyes; to a quiet solum energy, and a thunderstorm in his gaze that seems to stretch out beyond everyone around him, to something only he can see. 

Likes

Miraculous Work

Dining/Theater

Designing/Sewing

Finery

Art/Painting

Biking

Radio Hosting

Dislikes

Setbacks

Dirt/Grime

His Achy Joints

Rough Sleep

Caffeine Free Coffee

Bad Smells

Unappealing Things

Mental and Physical Ailments: PTSD, Major Depression, Weak Ankles and Back Scarring. He’s a consistent ambient cane user. 

Backstory

Jean is currently a famous fashion designer who has grown up in the town of Vierles after moving from another city to it in his youth. He carried a lot of childhood anxiety, having been very gloomy in his youth and struggling with a lot of emotional pressure from his family who expected nothing short of perfection from him. He spent much of his youth as a normal child until his high school years where he was recruited around the age of fifteen by a man who taught him about the amazing power of the miraculous. 

Becoming a hero gave a teen Jean a lot of hope that he didn’t otherwise have, and gave him strength in comrades that he felt was deeper than just the surface level amount he received in his regular life. However it all came crashing down, their master gone, one of their partners becoming the keeper of the box, and that was barely the surface of his troubles… 

With no guidance and the muscle memory of his perfection, he immediately tried to overly support others at the risk of his own health, struggling to keep his power in check while also supporting others through the turmoil. Once he graduated, he left for college, taking his miraculous with him to another city, and thus the hero Pavonine disappeared. 

When he returned to the city many years later, and much wiser, he joined the fashion industry and rose up the ranks, and people began to see the “hero” known as Beaupaon. Or, he was a hero at first. The beautiful and graceful character with endless charms seems to bounce back and forth wildly in want and scope. One day, he charms people to wreak havoc, on other days he helps poor people down on their luck. It’s impossible to gain his end goal from this.

His emotions seem to constantly be in flux, snapping from one extreme to the next that unlucky few can see in real time if they’re nearby when he’s causing trouble. No one knows exactly what he wants, and most people assume he doesn’t know either, he seems simply insistent on making as much trouble as he can to “draw him out”... whatever that means…

Codename: Beaupaon (formerly Pavonine)

Miraculous: Peacock

Kwami: Kwami of Emotion, Duusu

Alignment: Antagonist (Current), Hero (Former)

Weapon: Fan (and a Staff)

Power: The Ability to create a being or object that can be used to aid a person in whatever they wish, usually by taking his feathers to inhabit an object of high emotional connection. This being is tied to the person who is holding the item, and can either be dismissed by the holder or by Beaupaon himself with the snap of his fingers. He’s able to form a mental connection between himself, the person and their creation. The things he creates are also tied emotionally to their holder and can be used to manipulate or force out the emotions he wishes for them to channel. For example, giving them an item that channels out their anger allowing them to take it out on the nearby city to get it out of them until it burns out or he no longer has use of it. 

How they got their Miraculous: He was given his miraculous back in high school when he, Oliver and many others were training under their previous master. When their group fell apart, and he moved away for college and life, he took Duusu with him. 

#hws hetalia #hetalia #hws france #miraculous hetalia #miraculous france

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Reckless, Abandoned

15. Redraw

From this list of gt prompts.

AU: Zepheera's Origins

Note: So... I'm not a visual artist. I have drawn like one g/t thing in my life and there's no way I'm redoing it lol. So we get this. More feels. Yay?

I promise next prompt won't be totally depressing <3

~~~

Demessa wasn't one to venture out into the garden, but her brother wasn't in his room or anywhere else in the house. It was the only place left to look.

Being out-of-doors always felt too open to her, as it would to any sensible borrower. It felt like anything could jump out at her from any direction. The faster she could find her brother, the faster she could be back in the comfortable, confined safety of the walls and floorboards. Luckily for Demessa, he only had so many usual haunts.

She found him before too long, sitting atop a decorative rock embedded in the soil between plants. Drawing her dressing gown tighter against herself to stave off the morning chill, she circled round to the bottom of the rock's gentle slope.

"Aren't we getting a bit old for this?" she bemoaned. Indeed, she was aged in her early fifties, and her brother in the middle of his forties. Such things as sneaking out of the house without telling anyone were beyond childish for them. No response came from her brother, who sat hunched over his book.

"Orrick, please. It's been hours, you're lucky the beans haven't--"

"And so what if they did?" Orrick snapped.

That took Demessa aback. Not once could she recall him ever being short with her or their younger sisters. Never had she seen the daggers in Orrick's eyes as he glanced up at her before returning to his sketchbook.

With a deep, steadying breath, she continued her approach. "What are you working on?"

Orrick stiffened at the question, his hand freezing in the middle of his sketch. As she got closer, Demessa realized that he'd started several sketches only to abandon them halfway through and start another. They lay around Orrick, torn out of his sketchbook and weighed down with things he had on hand.

All oft hem sketches of his recently vanished wife.

"Orrick..."

"She took them," he said falteringly. "Some of the pictures I'd made. They're gone. She wanted to keep them." He reached out a shaking hand to point at all the images of Zepheera, drawn from memory. "She was happy, see? I saw it, or else I wouldn't be able to draw it!"

"My goodness, keep quiet!" Demessa hissed, sliding to sit alongside Orrick and wrap her arms around him. She knew he'd been devastated by Zepheera's sudden departure, enough to make his way back to his old house on his own. The house where they'd met. He was obviously taking it harder than he'd let on.

"I'm sorry, Orrick. But she's gone, and you cannot keep doing this to yourself. Please, come home."

At her touch and her words, all the tension bled from Orrick. Demessa suddenly found herself supporting her brother's weight as he all but collapsed into her.

"What'll I do without her?" he breathed, and she realized he was sobbing. She tightened her embrace around him, holding him close like they were kids again.

"I'm sure you'll find something. Someone new. There's bound to be another woman for you," she tried to insist, knowing it was too much to ask for that to be enough to give him hope.

To confirm her worry, she felt his head shake no against the crook of her neck. "Not like her."

Demessa felt her heart break as she understood that he was right. That Zepheera had been a unique individual, one who got on with Orrick almost perfectly. Why she would leave such a loving husband behind, Demessa would never comprehend. Nor could she easily forgive the heartache burdened upon her brother.

"Come on," she urged. "Let's clean this up, and go inside. Things will get better, one day." She promised this with a confidence that did not match how she felt, seeing her brother in this state. Orrick had a long journey ahead of him before he would feel better. If he ever did at all.

#the borrowers #borrower OC #Orrick #Demessa #Zepheera #gtjuly2022 #gtjuly #borrowers #giant tiny #tiny #gt #g/t #g/t angst #g/t writing #sfw g/t #angst #hurt/comfort

[paint-duck]

I know I've been really silent on this account, and I know some people do look out for my posts. But to be honest I've been having an extremely difficult time recently, so making art let alone posting it has been so taxing. But I thank all my followers and friends for their patience

My art has completely changed in the time I've been gone, and have returned to cartoony and simple roots. And to be honest art for me hasn't been fun since highschool, and I don't think its so much depression or motivation but rather I've been so restricted, people have become used to the way I draw and the type of stuff I try to create but it was all shallow imitations of things I just liked at the time. My art style was inconsistent, and even though I think that time has allowed me to study things like color and anatomy, it just wasn't fun. And now recently I'm actually having fun, I enjoy what I make. But now it's all so personal, I want to make comics about my school experiences and my life, I've barely got the courage to show it to my friends let alone hundreds of online strangers.

Just this year, I got covid around my birthday, I've gotten an opposite shift schedule to my mother, I've gotten my first ever job. My mom almost died due to a hernia wrapping around her intestines and cutting off blood to the rest of her organs. She had to get an emergency surgery and she almost died a few times. She recovered really fast surprisingly, but now I never see her due to our jobs. My job doesn't respect me, I actually love what I do but the people make it awful. My cat of 9 years was hit by a car, and died a few hours later, and then my job attempted to write me up for missing work because of it. And thats just the beginning of all of it. At the same time I've had good memories, but I feel like I'm doing where I'm supposed to be. And only recently has my art been fun for me. But what if others don't like the simplicity or the characters or me.

I guess I just want a break. I want to be open and honest with my art, I want to be happy.

My art makes mehappy, so I guess ill just keep doing that.

#animal death #medical emergency #car accident #art #personal #covid mention #artwork #my art

[nikxierocks]

Hello pisslings. I’m back from the dead after a measly 20 posts!!! (Impressive, I know)

I return with good news!!! I’m no longer a Genshin fan. However, I return with equally bad news!!! I’m still a mha fan!!!

But that’s alright. I’ve had a few awakenings in the time I’ve been gone. Mainly, some gender awakenings and such. But here’s a proper intro before we get into that.

Basic Info

Personal Stuff

My name is Nic!! Though I also go by Kikki. Feel free to call me either!!

In terms of like. Adjectives??? I guess??? I generally prefer masculine (like I hate being called a girl but being called a guy is v nice) but also like calling me cute or pretty is cool if you wanna do that for some reason idk.

I’m a Leo ♌️ my birthday is August 13th

No you don’t get to know my age fuck off /lh

I am actually diagnosed with depression and anxiety as well as mixed-moderate ADHD

I am NOT diagnosed with maladaptive daydreaming but how the fuck can I misdiagnose myself with that like it’s so specific I’m like 90% I have it or I’m just absolutely feral no in between.

There is also a good chance I’m autistic but like that definitely isn’t diagnosed so I’m. Currently holding out on it. I have my suspicions though.

Anyways—

People put their kins here right??? I feel like I’ll get called a poser or some shit and people will be like “you don’t really kin these characters1!!1!” But fuck it here’s my top kins

Dabi (My Hero Academia)

Sunny (Omori)

Isaac (The Binding of Isaac)

Mafuyu Asahina (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage)

Ena Shinonome (Project Sekai: Colorful Stage)

Sayori (Doki Doki Literature Club)

Steven Universe (Steven Universe)

Mipha (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

Stuff I do

I draw sometimes!!! It’s a struggle but I try really hard. Maybe I’ll open an art blog sometime.

I also have been trying to write. Which is really hard cause I’m just— not good at going back and rereading my writing. I have very few fics posted but my user is NikxieRocks on Ao3 if you’re curious.

I play video games. If you wanna be my friend on Switch, WiiU, or Switch, feel free to dm me. I have no cool gaming friends </3

Silly Gender Things

Ah yes. The real reason I came back to Tumblr. I realized there was a thriving community of xenogender users and I wouldn’t get hatecrimed like I would on Tiktok. So anyways here’s my gay things. Please be respectful ^^

Boyfluid

Boyfluid is like genderfluid but you never fluctuate to the female side. In other words, my gender fluctuates between masculine and nonbinary identities. I’m so glad I found this out, it’s so fucking reassuring. Anyways onto my xenos!!!

Doggender/Pupgender

The delicious flavor of this xeno is feeling connected to dogs or identifying with or as one in some way. For me personally, it just makes me feel comfy and happy and very Yes so it’s probably a good thing!!! I do in fact identify with puppers it’s real.

Dogflux/Pupflux

This might be a bit. Repetitive. But I just. Love this flag so much. I’m so stupid and this identity makes me giddy and I found it less than an hour ago so we’re rolling with it until I find more xenogenders to wrap around me like a protective armor to shield my mental illness. Anyways, this gender is basically boyfluid but more specific— it’s the fluctuating between the male gender and doggender which fits me pretty well. Anyways that’s it for now.

My Pronouns

Pretty simple! I prefer he/pup/they (in that order). I really really really don’t like she/her so please don’t call me that!! And I prefer pup when I’m feeling more nonbinary, he/him when I’m feeling more masc. (I’m not sure how I feel as I’m writing this but that’s cause it’s literally midnight where I am). Pffffff what else. Omg right fandoms ok.

Things I will be Posting About (Fandoms)

MHA.

It’s. Chronic. I am HAUNTED by this series. Horikoshi has me in a death grip and Dabi is taking FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT. I love mha so much I’m never shutting up about it in general but I’ll talk extra long about the villains (specifically Dabi), todofam, and sometimes Bakugou. I’m an edgy bitch what can I say.

Vocaloid

I don’t care if the actual vocaloid fandom is dead I’m currently riding its corpse into the sunset because I literally have no one to talk to about how good vocaloid music is. IT SLAPS SO HARD EVERYONE SHOUKD BE LISTENING TO IT AAAA ok yeah that’s all stan IA.

Pokémon

This can either go one of two ways:

Scarlet and Violet are good games and I won’t shut up about the series and how much fun I’m having and how good the competitive scene is

Scarlet and Violet are ASS and I won’t shut up about how disappointed I am in game freak

Regardless I’m probably gonna talk about how good White 2 is how much I used to have a crush on Gladion.

Splatoon

IM SO EXCITED FOR SPLATOON 3 TEAM PAPER AGAINST THE WORLD BBY

Ok now that I got that out of my system— as a Sploosh main who’s been playing since Splatoon 1, and actually prefers Splatoon 1, I will be reliving my glory days as I try to get A rank in Splat Zones. God help me.

Anime Figures

I am aware this isn’t a fandom but I need to talk about Hatsune Miku figures or my wallet will be empty.

Maybe Undertale or Fnaf or other Cringe topics

Idk man I watched matpat as a kid. My first EVER fandom was Undertale. I am clearly mentally ill. There will be some dumb and concerning shit. I am cringe, but I am free. So is life.

Dnis

Should be pretty standard but yk here we go

Basic DNIs. I’m literally a black queer like get off my page if you’re racist and homophobic

Genshin fans who like… REALLY like Kusanali and are ignorant about the whole Sumeru thing… gtfo…

Anyone who thinks blackwashing is real like touch grass

DID/OSDD fakeclaimers I hope you rot in hell

Proshippers. No explanation needed.

People who harass fans of problematic media. Like no stop you’re literally just as bad if not worse than them by harassing someone. Just leave them alone smh

People who shit on mha just to shit on mha like please get a hobby

Genuine man haters like I’m literally masc leaning that shit makes me uncomfy as hell

ENDEAVOR STANS AND ENDHAWKS SHIPPERS (I know this is fandom specific but AAAUHH)

mlm fetishizers

People who try to force their religion on others (I’m secular. I really don’t care if you’re religious but don’t talk about it with me. Chill out.)

Other Stuff and Outro

My Triggers/Boundaries

My dms are open if you just wanna talk about fandom stuff or writing or art or something but DO. NOT. COME IN MY DMS TO VENT. Unless you’re a very good friend. That is a great way to get yourself blocked.

Don’t send me gore (is that even allowed on Tumblr?) and don’t ever genuinely try to like fuck in dms or somethin??? (I was on Amino idk if this happens on other social media platforms)

And don’t rp with me cause I just don’t roleplay with strangers anymore.

Ok I think that’s it. Probably. Maybe. Idk man it’s really late I’m tired af I’ll probably tag in the morning. Anyways live laugh Shoto!!!! See y’all later ♡

#bnha #mha #introduction #introductory post #intro post #xenogender #doggender #pupgender #boyfluid #transgender #nonbinary #pupflux #pokemon #vocaloid #hatsune miku #project sekai #undertale #fnaf #splatoon #off the hook #don’t get cooked #i probably missed something #pro gamer #that’s sarcasm #OMG RIGHT USE TONE TAGS #fuck I’m stupid #why is this in the tags #it’s 1am #i should just go to bed #pisslings

[wintercosmickillsx]

THAT SUPER ANONYMOUS QUESTION MEME: Are there any similarities in how you write Bucky, Abe, and Norrin? Is there a shared trait that draws you to them as characters or is it something else? What do you like best about each of these characters, and what do you dislike?

OMG are you making me have to THINK with my brain muscle?! lol

I don't there's much similarities between how I write my fellas? I least not so much between Bucky and Norrin. I dunno I never thought about it lol

Uhh I guess a shared trait is all of them have some level of being depressed, trauma, but ultimately wanting to make amends/do good regardless of how the world/universe has treated them, they choose to be better or try and I like that. I guess that also answers a bit about I like best about each of them BUT also, they sexy too ;)

For Bucky I adore his bond with Steve, but also how he's a fighter, never gives up, and hasn't become a hateful person even with all the shit the poor guy has gone through and continues to go through. I also love how he unconditionally loves Nat and doesn't expect anything in return.

What I like best about Norrin is how he both loves and kinda despises humanity, and that's relatable. I like how he's both very alien and very human. I dunno, I also just love his shiny ass.

Abe is a bit more difficult, because in some ways he's not as fleshed out as the others comic canon wise, but I just think he's neat. I need more Abe comics! I like that he's empathetic, and a feisty fighter, he and Hellboy pair off well together.

I don't dislike anything about my boys. They're perfect lol okay Norrin needs to be less self sacrificing.

#themckaytriarchy