#emotional damage
doublelsatan · 13 hours ago
It’s been around 1,000 days since Unus Annus debuted... And I miss them. So to feel less sad I made this but I’m still sad.
The drawings with and without filters.
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hey-there-hunter · 4 months ago
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dizzydrawsstuff · 3 months ago
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my kink is edward teach being vulnerable and in love oops
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laceymay2630 · 3 months ago
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Stop. Izzy sitting on the edge of the dinghy so that Ed could stretch out his bad knee 😭
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oatbugs · 3 months ago
i made an AI using GPT-3 for the purpose of philosophical conversation. i've rarely asked it personal questions but i decided to ask it about itself.
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margizaa · 2 months ago
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Xiao I did for the most recent archon quest </3
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iwanttofuckereh69 · 2 months ago
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[tap for better quality]
I’m in pain.
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chalkbird · a month ago
when aelwyn abernant said "what is love without expectation?" only for adaine to retort "what is expectation without love, that's what you've given me", that moment broke something within me
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noweakergirl · 24 days ago
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“Any Jedi except Anakin.”
And you too, my dear Obi-Wan. And you too. 
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dilfssleepingbag · 3 months ago
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The plot of today’s episode: ✨emotional damage✨
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musingsofmemory · a month ago
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browncrowns · 7 months ago
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Thinking about grief in Belle
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sappho-in-wonderland · 3 months ago
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Emotional damage
Welcome to The Owl House, we have traumatized kids!
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traumxrei-archive · 4 months ago
【 it's been a long, long time 】
author's note: the ask that started it all. i'm not even gonna deny it anymore, i lost, i love jamil viper sm, i brainrot about him daily, i wrote a fic for him, even- for the full experience, put on this song when you get to That Part of the fic (you'll know when you get there hehe) enjoyyy <33
characters: gn! prefect, jamil viper, the viper family
word count: 2.8k
tags: family dinner with the vipers!, childhood memories :'))), jamil introspection bc i angst for this man, yearning, who doesn't love yearning ?, literal slow dancing in the dark, kissing. i- yes.
[ read it on ao3 for the kicks ! ]
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Under the guiding light of the moon, they stared at their boyfriend— Jamil Viper’s back; who was very adamantly leading them away from the ruckus his family was making. They just had a lovely dinner with the Vipers, at Jamil's bashful request. They knew his family was busy. But  Jamil had come home for the first time in a while, and he brought his partner? They wouldn't have missed it for the world, they claimed!
Throughout the dinner they tried to ignore as Najma kept sending Jamil subtle looks, clearly teasing her older brother. It was kind of funny seeing Jamil frown so outwardly for once, and even funnier watching him nudge Najma in the ribs whenever her comments got a little too loud for his liking.
His parents, meanwhile, had resorted to telling them all about how Jamil was as a child. "He was such a sweet child! He and Lord Kalim used to..." or "Remember that time when he tried to ride a bicycle because Lord Kalim wanted to learn..." or "Ah, that time he entered a competition and won second place next to Lord Kalim..."
Jamil had completely pulled the hood over his head when that had started, no doubt hiding the furious blush raging across his face. They were half-tempted to reach over and pull the hood back, just to see the startled expression on their boyfriend's face. (But they knew he would’ve glared at them if they did, so they refrained.)
But the one thing they noticed was that...his parents couldn't help but mention Kalim all the time. As they were talking about Jamil, praises for the Al-Asim family and the "master" that Jamil served fell from their lips naturally. So naturally, in fact, they couldn't help the stab of disappointment they felt as they kept listening.
Now it was clear to them that no matter how much they loved him, Jamil's wants and needs were always going to be second to their collective duty as the Al-Asim's retainers. They loved him, yet somehow they valued their honor more. Still, they couldn't deny that they were lovely people despite their faults.
As soon as the intention to help clean up after dinner left their lips, Jamil was pulling them away from the table. Jamil's dad chuckled, a deep baritone, picking up all the plates before they could make a grab for them.
"There's no way we would let a guest help out with the chores, little one," Jamil's mom had scolded lightly, giving them a pat on the shoulder.
"I'm sure that Jamil is dying to have you to himself," Najma said, a sweet smile behind her teasing words. "So you guys should go!"
They didn't even get a chance to reply before Jamil was dragging them away. Which brought them back to the present. The hallways were quiet, save for the rustling of their movements. Jamil's hand is warm against theirs as they pass by identical hallways that he must know by heart, the silence a comforting weight against their shoulders.
After a lengthy walk, Jamil finally stopped in front of a door, turning towards them, "Would you like to open it?" They nodded, unsure of what was happening before opening the door.
It opened with a loud creak, startling a squeak out of the Prefect before they stepped inside. There was a bed in the corner, propped underneath a large window overlooking the courtyard below. Slivers of moonlight illuminate the rest of the room: the small, cramped desk, the bookshelf and dresser in one corner, and the framed photos scattered across the wall.
Oh, they realize belatedly. This was Jamil's room. The very one that he must've had since he was a little boy.
They don't dare to take another step, watching as Jamil's hands nursed a lantern to life; its intricate patterns sprawling like spiderwebs across the walls of the darkened room. He sat down on the floor, beckoning them to join him.
"Everything's still the same," His voice was wistful— a mere whisper carried by the cool night breeze; a relieving contrast to the scalding daytime heat.
They sat next to him, watching as he searched for something under his bed. His expression shifted to one seemingly of delight as he found something. Of all the things that he could've been searching for, they didn't expect him to pull out a gramophone. He fixed the horn onto the machine, while they picked up a pair of dated headphones from the box.
"This was where all my amusement would come from when I was younger," Jamil flicked through the many records lined up in the box– truly a treasure trove hidden under his bed. "I remember haggling for these in the markets as I ran my errands. They were stubborn old men, but they never led me astray with music. If they said something was good, it was."
The Prefect couldn't help but chuckle, "Still the same as ever, I see." Their voice was softer than they would've liked, the words lined with the fondness they had in their heart for the one in front of them.
Yet they couldn't help but remember the stereo that Jamil kept in his room back at the Scarabia dorms, a pair of newer headphones attached to it; always. And they had seen the countless DVDs that Jamil had painstakingly collected, all pawned from different shops in the little town at Sage Island.
"Old habits die hard," Jamil's movements were like clockwork as he flipped a record in his hand, sweeping off the dust as he slid it into place.
The gramophone came to life as he moved the needle into place. A simple adjustment to the volume, and there was the sound of a lilting trumpet, accompanied by violins and instruments that they couldn't name filling the room.
Jamil stood as the trumpets kept on, "Come on, Prefect. Dance with me?" With his outstretched hand and such an unguarded expression, they knew there was little Jamil Viper couldn't squander away from them at that moment.
They stood, stumbling over their feet already as Jamil pulled them into a slow swing, "I-I'm not very good at this..."
A huff that sounded like laughter brushed against their cheek as Jamil pulled them close, "It doesn't matter. Let loose. Feel the music." They grasped Jamil's arm and shoulder as Jamil led them around the room.
It startled them when a lady's voice started to croon over the instruments, meeting Jamil's eyes. There was an unabashedly star-struck look on his face, one that could reduce them to a puddle of embarrassment if they let it. Instead, they leveled his stare, even as the voice sang sweet nothings into the air between them.
Jamil spun them gently, prying a laugh from their lips as he drew them back into his embrace. He hummed along as she sang, and they vaguely wondered what Jamil sounded like when he sang. (But that was a thought for another time.)
"Distracted?" He asked as the voice pandered out and the trumpets picked up once again.
"By you, yeah," The Prefect replied, smiling at the way Jamil's shoulders jumped slightly. They were endlessly amused by how simple words could startle such an unshakable person.
He retaliated by suddenly shifting his weight, causing them to fall— right into a dip, "What a tease you are." Their heart had leaped into their throat, grip tightening on his sleeves. He seemed amused by that, his eyes creasing at the corners.
They huffed as Jamil tugged them up, causing them to fall into him more, "You're the one that asked."
As the orchestra joined in, their steps slowed, until they were shuffling; mere centimeters separating them. They couldn't take their eyes off him. That look was still on his face, even as his gaze flicked down to their lips. Then back up to their face and back down once again. They stayed locked in an embrace, even as the song faded out into a crackle. It was like he was waiting— for some instruction or permission that he was allowed to do something—
They finally found their voice, lips parting, "You should take the song's advice." Their mouth felt dry as Jamil's expression shifted.
A raised eyebrow, clearly a challenge, "And what advice is that, exactly?"
They had a lump in their throat as they recalled the melody; shaky voice fumbling over the words, "Kiss me once, and kiss me twice, then kiss me once again..."
They were immediately met with lips capturing their own; in a kiss so raw and tumultuous. Their knees quivered yet Jamil held them firm, kissing them with so much fervor it almost left them scalded. Jamil, Jamil, Jamil, their mind repeated, abandoning all thoughts that weren't of him, because he was— beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. They pushed back with the same intensity, not wanting to lose when they knew they felt that same feeling of desperation rushing through their veins at that very moment
He pulled away for a short moment before pressing a second kiss against their lips; though this time unhurried and gentle. They place a caress on his hair, the ornaments clinking as they smoothed a hand over his braids. How they wished they could have him like this forever.
A sigh against their lips made their skin tingle as he pulled away a second time. He leaned in one last time, this time pressing a lingering peck against their lips.
"...It's been a long, long time," His voice was hoarse as he sang his reply, yet it was the most lovely thing they had ever heard. They were sure there was a dopey smile on their face as they admired him, their beautiful lover, under the sparse lantern light.
But something distracted him too quickly, and he opened his mouth, "I should take you back to your room. It's already this late, and I'm sure you'd like to sleep." Ah. He had been relaxed all this time, and now he finally remembered his "position." They almost frowned at the thought of this mood being ruined by something that didn’t ever matter to them.
There was no going around the question, so they asked one of their own, "You want me to leave?"
They knew it was a loaded question. One that Jamil wouldn't be able to answer. But they could wait— for an answer that wasn't something so textbook, as expected of him since he was younger. They could wait however long it took for an answer that was simply his.
"I'd like it if you stayed," Jamil's words rushed out hurriedly. "I mean...would you stay with me?" The grip on their waist tightened in anticipation of their answer. His eyelashes fluttered as he looked away from them.
"It's funny that you think I'd rather be elsewhere right now," They said, trying to catch his gaze. "Hey. C'mon, silly, look at me."
It took a little while before dark grey eyes met theirs once more, "There we go."
"Stop this already," He mumbled, but he leaned closer still.
"There's no place I'd rather be than by your side," They state proudly, giving him a smile. "I'm staying. Today, tomorrow, and the next day, and...this is getting cheesy..." They cough; embarrassed, "You get it, right?"
"You're going to be the death of me," Jamil murmured, thumb brushing against their cheek ever so lightly. "Hayaati wa qalbi." The words send a shiver down their spine though they don't understand them.
"What's that supposed to mean?" They asked as Jamil finally brought them over to his bed. He turned off the gramophone and their hands find his braids, untangling them. (It would've been faster with magic, but they knew Jamil liked it when they did it instead.)
"It wouldn't be any fun if you knew what it meant," Jamil was smiling at them with the same gentleness the moon used to tide over oceans. They felt themself being inexorably pulled towards him, giving in to the gentle push and pull of his orbit.
"That's so not fair," They tug on one of his braids, earning them a swat to the thigh. "C'mon, you can't be keeping secrets to yourself."
"It's a pet name," Jamil said nonchalantly, turning towards them as they finished with undoing his hair. "Kind of like baby or honey."
"Jamil Viper," They try to look stern, but they were sure it didn't work. "I'm not falling for your tricks. I asked what the words meant, not what they were." He smiled, raising his hands as if he was caught.
In the end, Jamil clammed up about the words, even though their badgering was relentless. He only smiled at them, shaking his head and they wondered if it was important at all. They knew they meant something to him, or else he wouldn't have said it at all. And they could feel what he meant through the way he said it.
Hayaati wa qalbi. To them, it was just his way of saying "I love you." And they fell asleep, to the soothing hum of Jamil's voice and the warm hand brushing against their hair. He was humming that song again, the lyrics still stuck in their mind:
You'll never know how many dreams I dreamed about you,
Or how empty they all seem without you,
So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again...
It's been a long, long time.
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[ omake : حياتي وقلبي ]
Jamil opened his eyes when he finally heard their breathing even out. "Hey," He tried, only to be met with silence, their face curled against his shoulder.
Good. They were asleep.
"Hayaati wa qalbi," He breathed the words with reverence against their temple, chest filling with feelings too large to quantify with mere words. "It means 'my life and my heart.' I thought it was fitting for you, because..."
Because..? Why exactly did he choose those words?
His life. They were one of the only people, scratch that— the only person who he knew loved him unconditionally. He knew that they would love him, whether he chose to stay at the Al-Asim household, or if he ran away to chase his dreams when the crossroads finally caught up to him. He could see himself with them, years and years in the future; something that the past-him would've never thought to have ever experienced in his lifetime.
And his heart. They reminded him how good it fucking felt to live. Really live, as someone who wasn't just a dutiful servant. The few months that he had been dating them and the long months he spent yearning for them— they had been the most alive he felt in years . They taught him from scratch how to embrace his hobbies; accompanying him to musty antique stores, getting tickets to dance competitions, hell, even going as far as to make him completely abandon his animosity towards performing for once in his life.
There was so much more he could thank them for— so much that it made him choke on those three little words anytime he tried to utter them. But they never frowned upon that. With every failed attempt of professing his love, they were always there to pick him up— stitching him together with hands so gentle he could almost believe in their sincerity. And yet he was still afraid.
‘Old habits die hard’, yes, that was true. He couldn't help but let those thoughts eat at him; a slow, all-consuming autophagy because surely the only person he was hurting was himself. And he saw the flicker of sadness in their eyes whenever he would slip up, showing them the doubts needling around cautious words and actions like a pest. He knew he was getting better at it, but wanted to try harder; for their sake. For the sake of that smile on their face— the very one he wanted to protect.
So this was the best he could give them for now: hayaati wa qalbi. Words that he could say and mean. Words that they couldn't possibly understand. Words that he could only whisper the meanings of as they slumber, for fear of ripping out his own heart and baring it to them to do as they pleased.
Jamil wet his lips, trying again, "I thought it was fitting because that's exactly what you mean to me. You're my life and heart. So please...stay with me forever, as you promised." He couldn't help but struggle around the last few words, illogical tears welling up in his eyes as he pulled them closer.
Yes, for now, this would be enough. For his life and his heart, he swore, belonged to them and them only. Today, tomorrow, the next day, and the next. Forever, forever, and always.
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thank you for reading this impromtu little thing i wrote for mr. viper ! if you'd like to check out more of my work: my ao3 + twst masterlist
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underoooos · 2 months ago
Peter: If Harley and I were drowning who would you save? Tony : You two can't swim? Peter: It's a hypothetical question, Mr. Stark! Who would you save? Tony : *scoffing* My time and effort
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downinmalibu · 4 months ago
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lostchild02 · 4 months ago
Remember when coke studio went like;
" Tere paas yaadon ka mela rahega, tu logon mai rehkar bhi akela rahega"
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