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marcusagrippa · 5 months

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hey hi hello!! stupid old men in a desert fic was promised and i shall deliver. there is no concrete plan there's just two and a half chapters of sad Vibes so far. cw for suicide refs and suchlike because - well, i mean, who on tatooine doesn't want to kill themselves? no cannibalism (yet) sorry :[

spiracle: chapter 1/? (3924 words)

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He is here.

Maul knows from experience that the Force can be a fickle mistress, but there’s no question in it this time, no room for error. He would know that signature anywhere - the steady, pulsing stream of consciousness spreading lazily through the desert night like a drop of ink in water. Broken and ragged and distant though it may be, the Jedi’s presence is unmistakable. So it hasn’t all been for nothing.

He lets out a low growl as he presses forward through the shifting sands, the particles already starting to clog the joints of his prosthetics. The path ahead of him is lit only by the faint light of Tatooine’s moons - Maul is almost upset to have missed the suns-set. Force knows it’s likely the only beautiful thing about this damned dustball. The end of his cane digs into the ground as he feels the air beginning to cool around him, and this is one of the few times in his life he wishes he’d had the foresight to wear something that covered his chest.

Too much fabric inhibits his movement in combat. There’s nothing more to it than that, of course. And Maul is certainly planning on fighting tonight.

The Zabrak starts to struggle a little as he clambers doggedly up a shifting dune, servos whining in protest as the mechanisms of his legs start to seize up. Damned Death Watch craftsmanship - you’d think that Mandalorians would be at least half-decent working with metal, but no, these legs have to struggle at the slightest inconvenience. Maybe they were good, once upon a time, but… he’s getting old, and so are his cybernetics.

A decidedly unflattering scowl creases Maul’s features cresting the dune, but all that melts away into a small, evil smile the second he senses it.

It. It. Not a ‘him’, not ‘Kenobi’, it, the pulsing Force-presence growing steadily stronger as Maul squints out over the wastes, lightsaber cane clutched in one hand. His fingers tighten around the hilt. A fire, closer than he’d dared dream it could be.

It.

Tired limbs infused with a new rage-born strength, Maul practically races down the dune, already fumbling to extract his lightsaber from the cane disguise. That smile grows wider even as his breathing grows heavier - look, and there’s a silhouette there, too, he’s right there, he can see him, not just in his mind’s eye but in the flesh -

The sand clouds around his heels settle in his wake, the desert returning to tranquillity once more as Maul’s chaos passes it by.

Closer now, almost there - he slows his approach from an almost mad sprint into a crouch, as stealthy as he can manage with his prosthetics squeaking. The noise rings loudly in his ears, amplified a million times by the otherwise silence, but right now Maul doesn’t care for the specifics. What he cares about is the fact that Kenobi is there, right there, barely a hundred metres away from him, out in the wastes, alone and his for the taking. A sitting duck.

His finger itches on the ignition switch of his saber as he stalks closer. It may have been a few years since Mandalore, but Maul’s about ninety percent certain he still knows how to make an entrance. As soon as he’s in earshot of the fire and the blobby vaguely-Kenobi-like shape slumped in front of it - the Force presence is still weak, why is it still weak? He must have gone soft in his old age - Maul clears his throat dramatically.

“Keno-”

His voice dissolves into a hacking cough and he doubles over, nearly toppling forwards before catching himself with his cane. This, it goes without saying, was not his ideal entrance. Force-dammit. He can’t be showing weakness, not in their first meeting after all these years! His eyes stream as he hacks his guts up, blood spattering the sands below him. Perhaps all those years on Lotho Minor had lasting effects even the witches’ magicks couldn’t counteract.

He straightens up after he’s somewhat recovered, looking towards the fire expectantly. He’s expecting the figure to have stood, drawn his lightsaber, shied away, even moved… but nothing. One of Maul’s eyebrows raises without his permission, and he takes a few steps closer, into the light of the fire.

“Kenobi…?” he says hesitantly, peering at the - ah. Right.

What he had assumed was the Jedi sitting slumped forwards on a log is not, in fact, that. Instead, Maul comes face-to-face with a pack strapped to the back of a slumbering eopie. The eopie has a harness attached to it, but the end isn’t tethered to anything.

It farts in its sleep. How quaint.

“Oh, Obi-Wan. You’ve aged terribly,” Maul mutters, scowling, as he jabs the eopie with his cane. The beast snorts, but doesn’t wake.

Mistaking the great Jedi General for this… creature? Perhaps he’s losing his vision as well as his mind. The thought brings Maul little comfort.

But no - the faint trickle of Force energy is still there, humming in the background. It’s the strongest Maul’s felt since landing on this hellhole, but it’s still exactly that: faint. Broken. He could attribute it to distance when he was further away, but now, at what he presumes must be the Jedi’s own camp, it still feels broken. Shattered.

What has happened to the old man? What has he done?

The campfire is still burning, casting an orange glow over the sands and reflecting off of the few still-shiny parts of Maul’s prosthetics. If the fire is still going strong, he cannot be far - perhaps he’s just taking a piss. Maul sniffs, taking another look at the unconscious beast, and sits down in the sand to wait as he takes in the sorry state of affairs that is Kenobi’s camp. He’s waited decades for his revenge; he can serve to wait a little longer.

It’s pathetic, really, what the Jedi’s life seems to have come to. The camp is in disarray: old Republic ration tins strewn haphazardly all over the place, a bundle of rags shaped into something that vaguely resembles a bed, a dented kettle half-buried in the sand near the fire. The Jedi’s stench is drenching the place like a particularly unpalatable perfume - that disgusting, lingering feeling of kindness and weakness that Maul simply cannot abide.

That confirms it, then. He was here. He should return. And when he does, Maul will strike him down like he deserves. Besides, he’s always liked a dramatic reveal - just the thought of emerging like a wraith from the shadows to surprise the old man, catch him entirely off-guard rather than storm up to him like a man possessed, makes Maul’s face crack into a twisted, thin-lipped smile.

So he waits.

And waits.

The sands shift. The moons rise. And Kenobi does not return.

Maul is mildly offended by this. Surely the old Jedi has sensed him by now? Does he not think him worthy of a duel? He had been expecting his quarry to be ready to attack him the moment he set foot on the planet. But… judging by the state of his camp, by the weak pulse of Force where he had assumed there would be the same steady-flowing, roaring waterfall that was present during the Clone Wars…

Something is wrong.

Maul scowls as he gets back to his feet, cracking his back and wincing as the fire burns lower and lower. He’s going to be pissed if something has broken Kenobi before he has even had the chance to. Ah, well - he’s alive, at least, the presence confirms that - so if worst comes to worst, Maul can at least watch him suffer. The taste of second-hand revenge is not so sweet, but it is miles less bitter than no revenge at all.

His eyes close for a brief moment and he reaches out with his senses, probing the frayed edges of the Jedi’s psyche. He’s not far, of course - not far at all, barely more than a hundred feet or so away from the embers of the fire - but that’s all he can make out from this distance. The Jedi’s spirit is weak. It will bring me great pleasure to see it decay into nothing more than the ghost of rot.

With a huff and a muttered curse, Maul snatches his cane from the sand and stalks off into the Tatooine night. Again. The eopie snorts as he passes by, and he has to resist the urge to decapitate it.

All in good time.

---

The moonslight is faint, and the wind is starting to pick up, but as Maul crests yet another dune neither dimness nor background noise can disguise the distinctive silhouette and choked-back wails of a man sobbing.

The sight fills Maul with more glee than it really has any right to. Oh, this is going to be easy. It may not be as fun as torturing those tears out of him would be otherwise, but the sound of the Jedi crying is the sweetest melody in the galaxy to Maul’s ears. He stands atop the dune and looks down, wreathed in darkness, tattoos faded with age and wear made brilliant yet again by the weak splashes of moonslight that grace his skin, before grinning to himself and half-walking, half-skidding down the slope to reach him.

Maul is behind him. The Jedi doesn’t turn.

He’s definitely weeping, Maul can tell that for certain. Hooded figure slumped forwards onto his knees, shoulders shaking, muffled little whimpers coming from his mouth. How pathetic. The Force ebbs and flows around him weakly, the once-great waterfall of his presence reduced to a trickle.

Maul takes a few steps forward. The Jedi doesn’t turn.

Peering over his shoulder, Maul can just about see that he’s… clutching something in his hands. His shaking hands. The thing he’s clutching is a dull box, dented and dust-covered, not unusual in any way - except Kenobi is holding it like it’s a child, his touch light and almost reverential in its gentleness even through the sobs that wrack his body.

Maul takes a final step forward - close enough to touch the Jedi’s shoulder, to stab him, to end this all. The Jedi doesn’t turn, but his sobs cease abruptly.

“...hello, Maul,” a voice says from the figure’s hood. Maul blinks.

The voice is hoarse and scratchy, thick with tears, with the resigned tones of a man on his deathbed. The strident, cocksure voice he knew during the war has all but disappeared. The voice is Coruscanti, but other than that…

This may as well be a stranger. Another old, forgotten soul in a galaxy full of them.

“Kenobi,” Maul spits with all the venom he can muster - which, to his surprise (and annoyance), isn’t much venom at all. He must be getting soft in his old age. He shifts his stance almost imperceptibly, hand tightening on his cane. “Cease your wailing. It’s unbecoming of you.”

“It is, is it?” the voice says forlornly as the owner drops the box back to the ground with a thud. He does not turn to face Maul, nor does he stand. He simply waits. “My apologies. I don’t have much dignity left these days. I wasn’t aware my… ‘wailing’ would offend you so.”

Maul ignores the comment and lets out a low growl. His thumb brushes against the ignition switch of his saber. “Don’t tell me someone’s finally knocked the fight out of you, old man.”

Not before I’ve had the chance, at least.

“I’m afraid that happened a long time ago.” The figure sighs, and pulls his hood back. Faint shards of moonslight illuminate an unkempt mane of greying locks, lank and unwashed. “You’re here to kill me, then, are you?”

“No, I’m here for a nice cup of h’kak bean tea and a gossip. Of course I’m here to kill you, you old fool.”

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me old. We’re the same age, as I recall.”

“Yes, well, I’m not the one who’s gone greyer than a Kaminoan stormcloud, withering away out here all these years.” Maul scowls and jabs his cane into the figure’s back, eliciting a very satisfying yelp. “Stand up and face me, Kenobi, you coward. Don’t hide behind those pathetic tears.”

The figure sighs again, and somehow the sound is even more pitiful than the first time. “If you’re hoping for a duel, you won’t get one.”

“I don’t need a duel. I need you to face me like a man.”

“Why? You don’t strike me as someone who’s averse to a bit of backstabbing.”

“Just face me, you insolent wretch.”

“As my Lord commands,” the figure says drily. He shifts in his position, carefully moving the old box to the side, and begins to get to his feet. Begins being the key word there.

The process probably takes about thirty seconds in total, the silence punctuated by the occasional sniffle or pained groan from the figure. Maul’s anger is slowly starting to turn into confusion, and then disbelief. This is what’s become of him? A haunted, doddering old man with grey hair and back pain? The cane almost slips out of his grasp as he gapes at the man formerly known as Obi-Wan Kenobi, one of the galaxy’s most feared and respected warriors, struggling to stand on his own two feet.

He manages to steady himself and finally - finally! - faces Maul, and the former Sith Lord visibly winces as he catches sight of the Jedi’s visage. Weathered almost beyond recognition, wrinkles gouged deep into his skin, tears still clinging to his cheeks, all eyebags and gaunt features and hollow, blank gaze.

“Have I got something on my face?” the husk wearing the skin of Kenobi asks, rubbing his beard. “You’re staring.”

“You look terrible,” Maul says bluntly. A smile graces the Jedi’s cracked lips, a smile devoid of humour, dignity, or hope.

“Thank you. I try. Now, are you going to kill me or am I going to have to do it myself? You did show up at the worst possible time, you know. You’re actually prolonging my lifespan by being here.”

Maul’s eyebrows raise. “...pardon?”

“Well, I was planning on killing myself before you showed up,” Kenobi says mildly. “You’re disrupting my schedule. I would appreciate it if you hurried things along a little.”

"..."

Suicide? Maul makes a choked gagging sound in the back of his throat. The cane finally slips from his fingers, landing with a soft thump in the sand as he stares dumbly at Obi-Wan, who just smiles placidly back at him. No, not Obi-Wan - not the General, the Jedi, the war hero. Whatever this thing is, it's not the warrior that Maul knew. He manages to mask his surprise with another snarl, though, before this - this husk can comment on it.

I should be happy about this. The fool has lost himself entirely. I should take pleasure in it, watching him so hopeless, so destitute. But all Maul feels is a gnawing, biting, crawling sense of dread clawing its way up from the pit of his stomach. He cannot fight this ghost. He cannot give him what he wants.

Obi-Wan sighs wearily and gets down on his knees in front of Maul. How is he so - so calm like this? When he's facing his doom - looking his death in the eye? What happened to him to break him so entirely?

"Well?" he prompts. "Strike me down. I haven't got all day."

Pathetic.

"Look what has become of you," Maul murmurs, stooping to pick up his cane and using the tip to tilt Kenobi's chin up. The fool doesn't resist - Maul's stomach twists with a pang of something unfamiliar. Could that be… pity? No. Impossible. "How did they break you, Obi-Wan? What… happened to you?"

The Jedi raises his eyes to meet Maul's, half-lidded with exhaustion, piercing blue dulled to a weak grey. "Nothing that wasn't my fault," he says quietly. His weak - weak, broken, weak - Force presence spikes with something Maul has never felt coming from the Jedi before. Grief. Fear. Darkness.

This is not what Maul wanted. This is not what Maul wanted at all.

With a growl, he pushes Kenobi roughly away from himself, leaving him lying prone in the dust. The foolish, broken thing does not even make an effort to get back to his feet. He simply… deflates, eyes blank and devoid of the familiar cunning intelligence Maul has grown to expect, tracking his movements almost lazily as the former Sith stalks towards the discarded box. He can feel echoes as he approaches it, ripples in the Force that concentrate into two separate infinitesimal points, ripe with memories that linger like fat storm clouds around them.

“This,” Maul hisses, snatching up the box and shaking it. It gives a satisfying rattle. “What is it? Why is it so important to you?”

Obi-Wan does not deign to grace the former Sith with a response. His eyes have suddenly turned from exhausted and uncaring to hollow and haunted and staring, gaze locked onto the box with the precision of a sniper. His fingers dig into the soft sand as he mumbles something incoherent under his breath, makes a sound like a dying bantha, and still does not get up.

Maul scowls. "Weak," he snarls, and tears the box open. The hinges aren't quite rusted shut - not enough moisture on this force-damned planet for that, he supposes - but there's a definite age to it, sand clogging the mechanism, and he struggles for a few seconds before it clicks open -

And Maul is suddenly hit with a wave of the Dark Side so strong it makes him damn near drop the thing.

The two lightsabers nestled inside the box, wrapped neatly in clean cloth in stark contrast to the perpetually dusty landscape around him, both stink of festering hatred and unimaginable, inconsolable grief. Maul’s hands start to tremble as he looks down on them, blood-and-bile eyes widening. Even second-hand, the pain that lives within these weapons is just… more. More than the former Sith has ever seen before, even among those artefacts his old Master used to keep scattered around the LiMerge building whilst he was being trained. Maul baulks at the memory - failure, you are a failure, he cast you aside like you were nothing because you are nothing - and reaches out a hand to touch one of the sabers.

“Don’t,” Obi-Wan’s hoarse, broken voice calls from behind him, tone gone from resigned depression to almost desperation - Maul jolts at the sudden tone change. He whirls around to face him, face stony. It doesn’t matter if he’s suicidal or… whatever. The Jedi cannot tell him what to do. Still, he feels a twinge of what might be compassion in his chest, which he immediately forces down and tries to disguise with aggression instead.

“Don’t what?! Why in the galaxy are you keeping Sith artefacts with you?! Don’t you know what they can do to you, what they can do to any Jedi in such close contact with the Dark Side? Oh, Force above, it’s a wonder you haven’t -”

He stops short, then, because the Jedi appears to have started crying again. Kenobi lets out a series of gulping sobs as he reaches one shaking hand towards the box, aged body still lying crumpled in the sand. “Please,” he rasps out between ragged breaths. “Don’t - don’t touch them. Don’t touch them, they’re not Sith artefacts - they’re mine -”

The old man dissolves into incoherent mumbles and muffled crying again, curling into a pitiful little ball of greying hair and frayed edges as his presence in the Force pulses with pain. Maul stares at him in disbelief - he seems to have been doing a lot of that when it comes to Obi-Wan, lately - and slowly withdraws his hand from the box. He sets it down gently on the sand in front of him and shuts the lid.

There is something seriously, seriously wrong with this Jedi.

For years, the only thing that has sustained Maul has been Obi-Wan Kenobi. He has breathed for him, bled for him, spent decades of sleepless nights half-mad as he imagined ripping the Jedi limb from limb, bathing in the scarlet of his spilled lifeblood. He has wanted nothing more than to get his revenge on the man that destroyed any semblance of a chance that Maul might have had in the first place - make him hurt as he has hurt, make him feel every last drop of pain that Maul has ever felt.

But staring at the shaking, sobbing bundle of robes and skin and bones, Maul finds that his rage has deserted him for the first time since he can remember. He cannot break what is already broken. He cannot hurt what has already been ruined beyond repair. There is no retribution for him to deliver to such a hopeless, lost soul.

He finds the mirror of his own madness in the shake of the Jedi’s shoulders, the hushed mumblings that come from behind his hood, the way his fingers dig like scrabbling claws into the sand. The Jedi has disappeared - this is all that is left. Maul’s mission, his only mission, his reason to be… has been left unfulfilled. Washed away by the husk’s choked sobs.

Maul leans heavily on his cane, just watching Kenobi silently for a few more seconds. Behind the fog of his confusion, however, something begins to formulate.

The Jedi has disappeared. I am incomplete. There will be no justice until I am the one to break Kenobi’s stride, until I am the one to finally douse that fire in him. I shall just have to… rekindle it.

I will be his saviour, nurse him back to life, liberate him from his chains - and then I will grind him into dust beneath the heel of my boot. As is my right.

Maul bends down, picks up the box. The mere sight of the thing makes his stomach lurch, but he dares not risk touching the contents again. He slides it into his pack, then strides over to where Obi-Wan lies drowning in his own sorrow, clearly in the middle of some kind of… episode? Disgusting.

“Come, Jedi. Enough of that.”

He grips Kenobi’s forearms with his gloved hands and hoists him to his feet. After a few seconds of awkward, weak swaying and ragdoll-like limbs, it becomes abundantly clear that the Jedi is not going to be able to walk on his own. With a weary, resigned sigh - oh, I’m already regretting this - he picks Kenobi up as easily as if he were a child, putting him over his shoulder a little haphazardly. This brings forth a pained grunt that Maul takes far too much satisfaction in, and Kenobi starts pummeling his chest weakly with clenched fists.

“Cease your whining. You need to eat. You’re skin and bones as it is,” Maul chastises, voice dripping with false cheerfulness as he starts to haul the Jedi up the dunes. His skin is cold against Maul’s back - far too cold to be healthy. Maul hopes to all hope that the meagre fire at the camp has not gone completely out yet.

“And sleep. You look like you haven’t slept in the past three years.”

Kenobi manages to get out a weak ‘I haven’t’, before his body goes limp, leaving Maul with the long and arduous task of heaving an unconscious, unwashed, slightly smelly nemesis back towards his salvation - and, eventually, his doom.

#jase writes #obimaul #what if i pinned you. huh. what then.#*incredibly traumatised war veteran* i can fuck him up more :3 #sw #maul #twin suns #obi-wan kenobi #ao3. scares me sometimes so its going on here instead #also btw i've been thinking about that post about kyber crystals A Lot and i can't remember what it said exactly but #thinking about how they can absorb the emotions and memories of the wielder and sobbing quietly to myself #dragging myself kicking and screaming out of my year long writer's block

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itsrexxyo · 11 months

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part 1

#cinwin #rwby cinwin #snowfall #rexxdoods #i'm quietly sobbing at this tbh #but i'm an angsty person so i do this to myself lmfao #oh man oh man....

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kittenbased · 1 year

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call it love (2023)

#call it love #kdrama #kdrama edits #kdrama gifs #sung joon #kim ye won #yoon jun x hae sung #*otp: how am i gonna handle her by myself #*mine #YES PLEASE CALL IT LOVE CAUSE IF IT'S NOT THEN I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS #the way he immediately changed his voice when he noticed she was sobbing shaking running to him #that tender and comforting voice we have never seen him talking like that to anyone else #the way it contrasts that scene in ep 1 where he half-assedly tried to be there with her in the karaoke cause her sister was 404 not found #and the way she quietly called his name #PEAK CINEMA #just as much as main cp they are opening up to each other and finding comfort in each other's presence #in their own special way #and i love that for them

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lallyloo · 1 year

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Link telling Rhett he’s proud of him.

#mythicon #mythicon livestream #rhett and link #quietly sobbing to myself #my screencaps etc

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lovebiteshard · 7 months

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im a nice boy and i sit nicely and politely and calmly

#affirming myself (sob emoji)#NOBODY HERE i just hate blocking my in laws (also not their fault we just overlap on a guy [im sure you know] and i saw mitski and had to-#-run a lap [sit quietly without autism] ) can you tell i havent eaten yet today

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buck-yyyy · 11 months

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i don’t know whether to laugh or cry about the fact that it’s 5:40 in the morning and i am not only wide awake but have been since goddamn 4am

not intentionally. i’m not doing anything today that would require me to wake up that early. there was no loud noise or sudden event to startle me awake. my brain just decided to wake me up and refuse to let me go back to sleep

#cry. definitely cry.#as proven by the fact that i am now very much quietly sobbing to myself #i got 2 and a half hours of sleep i am so tired i want to sleep so bad but my brain won’t let me and i don’t know what to do

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chaotictomtom · 8 months

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loosing my mind btw no fucking wonders hannigram fucked my mind at a time my brain was still developing like. this. i have no words. how to live and consume any other media after watching these crazy bitches do anything in each other presence???????? i think other dudes that made me feel as insane+++++ recently was honest to god tomgreg. they're also so silleyyyy and each scene Nour showed me of them before i started the show made me go as much "?????" as rewatching scenes of hannibal and will does

#i don't remember much of. anything in my life really. but i do remember the first night ive watched the first ep back in middle school wit #my childhood friend!!!! and i'm realising only now that years after I've watched the final when it aired in high school #with her sleeping right on my side. so i had to silently sob and quietly put my laptop away #I THINK I DIDN'T SEE THE POST CREDIT SCENE THAT NIGHT ONLY A FEW DAYS LATER #COS I WAS TOO CHOCKED WHEN THE FINAL AIRED TO DO ANYTHING ELSE THEN CLOSE LAPTOP CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP #it was insane it was bonkers omg #NO FUCKING WONDERS I WAS OBSESSED WITH THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!#i truly wish i could rewatch it for the very first time again #tomtom_is_rambling

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swiftstigmata · 2 years

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lately i’ve been daydreaming about my absolute dream house (converted barn at least a 5 minute drive down a very dangerous country lane to my next nearest neighbour. must be near a small stream or river must have flagstones) and I am so desperate to live there that idk how I’m going to survive the fact that no one I know will ever be able to buy a house

#.txt #and if we ever DO buy a house it will be a tiny new build. and that’s an IF!!!!!#sobbing quietly to myself over the thought of wooden ceiling beams

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havegaysex · 7 months

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everything has been going wrong

Everything has been going wrong I accidentally left my med bag in the car Saturday night, it got to over 110° in my car on Sunday so I need to find and figure out getting refills in for all of my pills I keep doing a terrible job of keeping my dog on his pills (forgetting his middays) Everything hurts so bad and I can't think I can't sleep I'm just alone in bed because I can't get out I don't feel good everything hurts

#I've been crying quietly so my partner I live with doesn't hear me for like 10 minutes at least #Earlier I wanted to cut myself and then they came in and stopped me from getting a blade #I am isolating myself and I hate myself and it's so easy to just not people #Personal #This sobbing session was kicked off because I knocked out the bathroom door so I can brush my teeth and mission said they didn't know I was #Still awake ( it's 3:00 a.m. ) and they “have been operating on the assumption that [I] fell right asleep when I went to bed 2 hours ago”#And he said “now I feel bad”

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dysfunctjon · 8 months

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I’m repulsive to everyone I love

Everybody that I love or end up in a relationship with are all the same they all think I’m disgusting and repulsive and will leave me I fucking hate romance it’s dead to me and I would rather fucking end my life then ever be romantically involved again it has done nothing but hurt me and kill me and make me feel so small and insignificant and hideous and ugly and stupid I fucking hate everything

I try not to be so pessimistic or nihilistic but it’s like there is nothing to be happy about for me today was actually a good day but it all came crashing down when I realized everyone I love doesn’t care about me nor do they see me as a man and they see me as some hideous disfigurement of a person and they would all like me better if I had a fucking cock I hate myself so much I just wish I was likable

#dysfunctionalvent #ventblr #sorry I’m venting so much #tw dysphoria #dysphoria tw #I can’t stop crying I’m literally sobbing quietly I hate myself so much #I just Need to go the fuck to sleep I hate being awake and I can’t stand it #I can’t stand living #I hate everyone so fucking much

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hotpinkstars · 7 days

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LOST POSSESSIONS - aventurine, boothill, x reader

- in which you lost your wedding band during a conflict with something/someone.

- novas comeback post guys I'm gonna be more fluent with writing I promise. hope you enjoy this though I was gonna add Sunday but my computer is literally at 1 percent sooooooo....

- a lot of crying, minor swearing, besides that all comfort... wc 912

When Aventurine walked into your shared home to the sight of you sobbing on the couch, he thought of the worst. Are you hurt? Did something happen while he was at work? He went up to you to seek for answers.

“What happened? What's wrong?” He internally panicked, not wanting to allow you to see his current emotions. He kept calm as you sat up, tear stained face poking a hole through his battered heart.

“You’re gonna be so pissed!” You sob, somehow starting to cry even harder. You dove back into the warm cushions of the couch when you felt the part near your shins dip, and a hand running through your hair and massaging the back of your scalp.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t be upset, I promise,” he gave you a sympathetic look before proceeding. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I won’t push you.”

You hesitantly show him your bare hands, and he takes them in his. You roll over to face him and look at him with a pained expression, and that's when he seemed to realize.

“Where's your wedding ring?” He said, his words quick. He looked at you slightly wide-eyed before you began bawling again. He began to swipe the tears out of your eyes, his thumb coming into contact with your lower lashes as he quietly attempts to hush you and calm you down.

“Was it stolen? Did you lose it?”

You bring a hand up to your face before sniffling. “It got stolen. The diamond was too appealing to some bastard on the streets on Golden Hour, and it was swiped right off of my hand!”

You curl back into yourself before Aventurine comes down to kiss your face. “I’m not mad at you, babe. I’m beyond pissed off with the person who did that. Nobody seems to have even a drop of human decency these days, do they?”

You slightly shrugged before hugging him close. He returned the hug, and held you there until you quietly whispered a question into his ear. “What are we going to do about the ring?”

He slightly chuckled before bringing his head on top of yours. “I might as well get you a new one. The old one was rather… out of date, if I must say so myself. I could get you a bigger, brighter diamond.”You attempted to protest, attempting to say everything he knew you wanted to say- even something made out of paper would be good enough for me. But he thought you were worth the shiniest, biggest, rarest stone in the world. Worth much much more than that. And this incident wasn’t much of a setback for him, and really didn’t make his wallet cry very hard at all.

Boothill doesn’t play when his significant other is not doing very well. He’s immediately at your side, stroking your hair and trying to do or say anything he can to make you feel better.

But in this instance, it didn’t really work. He realized after a few moments that he just had to be patient, and wait for you to come to him,

“You’re going to be so mad at me if I told you,” you hiccuped, before continuing to talk. “Please don’t yell at me.”

“Why would I ever yell at ya’?” He said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. “Whatever's got your pretty face all stained with tears can’t be that bad. I hate gettin’ mad at ya’, and ya’ know that.”

You nodded, but dug your face deeper into the pillows. Boothill simply put his metal hand on your back, and rubbed up and down. While the sensation felt cold, it seemed to work to help calm you down because you felt more at ease, and he could tell that too.

“I lost my wedding ring. I don’t know where it went, but one moment it was there and then the next it wasn’t on my hand anymore,” you cut out, trying to hold back more tears. You could see his face change from scared to relaxed.

“Hey, don’t stress it. That’s just a lil’ setback, nothin’ to worry about. We’ll either find it or I’ll buy ya’ a new one,” he says as he picks up your now bare hand, a flash of sadness showing through his eyes. “What’ll make ya’ feel better? Cuddles? If we went out to try n’ find it?”

You shrugged, and he nodded. You buried yourself even deeper into the blankets, giving him the hint that you just wanted to stay inside for now. You felt too bad and your face was rose red from crying, your eyes puffy and your voice raspy. He climbed into the bed with you, wrapping his strong, metallic arm around your covered torso.

“I’ll do a thorough investigation tomorrow. People don’t usually lie to Galaxy Rangers, but I doubt those adorable cutie pies would know somethin’ like that,” he immediately cringed, realizing how the sentence came out. His stupid synesthesia beacon.

But he heard you laugh, and the cringe feeling dissipated into a warmth in his metal chest. His whole goal is to keep you happy, healthy, and safe. If he were to fail at one of those things, he’d fail at his own purpose. For now, his only thing is to cheer you up, and make sure you know that he would never be mad at you for a mistake that's not even your fault.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai #star rail #honkai x reader #star rail x reader #aventurine #kakavasha #boothill #aventurine x reader #aventurine hsr #kakavasha x reader #kakavasha hsr #boothill hsr #boothill x reader

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blondedmuse · 4 months

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BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE (BEAUTIFUL PROBLEMS)

synopsis. ꩜ how felix comforts you.

author’s note. ∿ i wanted to write something (kind of) short and angsty so here’s this

When Felix woke up his skin was cold, lacking the warmth your body gave him in the night, his arms holding onto the ghost of you. He lifted his body from his bed, his eyes in search of his room for any trace you you. He couldn’t find anything. He checked the room you were assigned when you first arrived at Saltburn and you weren’t there either—not that you used it anyways. So, he walked downstairs to the dining room assuming you were at the table eating breakfast. While everyone ate at approximately at the same time it was in Felix’s nature to be a little fashionably late.

His assumptions were correct as you sat for the meal, looking down at your food. It was when you looked up at him he noticed something innately wrong, unable to ignore how your eyes were tainted red as they flit around the room, unable to hold his gaze. You hadn’t said much other than please and thank you the entire time, ultimately excusing yourself early, the sound of your feet resounding throughout the house as you walked back upstairs.

“Is she okay?” Venetia subtly whispered to Felix and he shook his head with a shrug. “I don’t know,” He responded seriously. Elsbeth gave her son a look of concern, the green light that it was acceptable to excuse himself.

“If I may, I’m going to excuse myself to check on her.” His parents nodded and he followed the same way you went. He eventually traced you back to the bathroom that separated your two rooms, peeking in the door when he heard your figure slosh in the water of the bathtub.

“Can I come in?” He asked quietly and you nodded. Your knees were to your chest as you held a cigarette in your hand. Felix kneeled beside you, replacing the cig with his hand, putting it out on the ash tray beside the bath it seemed you brought with you. His thumb massaged your hand in silence as if it would magically ease whatever was devastating you—it didn’t, but it calmed the both of you to know that it helped.

“Do you want me to join you?” He mouthed, quieter than the previous question as you looked at him again. Still you didn’t say anything, only nodding as he reluctantly released your hand to remove the clothing from his body. You moved from your position momentarily to make room for him in the bath, sitting in his lap once he was submerged with you.

He didn’t push you to talk but there was something so concerning, persuasive about the look in his eyes you almost felt guilty for staying quiet. Felix would never intend to make you feel that way, there was just something about him that made you want to open your heart to him knowing that he’d keep it safe.

The thought alone made your eyes water like they had earlier that morning, the reason why you left him in bed alone. You rested your head on his chest as you cried, Felix’s arms around you, rubbing at your back as you did so. His head rested atop yours, cringing to himself each time he felt it shake from a sob.

“I’m right here, okay?” He mumbled into your hair. His statement made it seem like he was a few doors down or right next to you, but in truth his body was wrapped around yours, protecting you like a shield from anything that threatened to hurt you. He knew he couldn’t, but right now it was the best he could do.

#gentle love is soo ☹️☹️☹️#jacob elordi #felix catton #felix catton saltburn #saltburn #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x y/n #felix catton headcannon #oliver quick #felix x reader

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lallyloo · 1 year

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The tallest little spoon [x]

#quietly sobbing to myself #all of rhett's dreams coming true #little spoon #hug time #gmm #i'm sure these have been posted but #i just need these here #everything he's ever wanted #rhett and link #my screencaps etc #gmm 2300

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peacheclair · 1 year

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#my roommate has been kinda hostile lately #I’ll leave the house just so I can sit in my car and smoke a cigarette #because they actively make living in my own home so hard sometimes #they’ll refuse to do the dishes #the other day I repeatedly told them I was extremely depressed #and when I asked if I could just quietly sit with them and our mutual friend in their room they smirked and said no #because I had bought a squishmallow for my room and needed to be “punished for buying a stuffed animal #literally #I then had to leave the house and sit in a parking lot in my car sobbing because k was worried if I stayed in my room #I’d potentially kill myself from how I was already feeling on top of everything else #they constantly go out w our mutual friend #and if I ask to be invited they always say I’d not like it because they’ll walk places as if I can’t fucking walk #we’ll start tv shows together and then they’ll finish them without me and not understand why I’m upset #they constantly criticize me #and when I get defensive (because this happens everyday) they get mad that I don’t just accept the criticism #today I brought up how they never invite me places #and they said well you wouldn’t like all the walking we do #I said you don’t know that I’m not just talking about today #I ended up just saying well it’s a good thing you don’t even bother to invite me and excused myself from the room #then I just left the house #they didn’t even fucking care #I buy all the groceries. I pay the rent. I cook and clean.#nothing I do is good enough to them #every day there’s something else im doing wrong #I can’t fucking take it

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evie-sturns · 1 month

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Sorry - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and matt have been bickering the whole day, but one thing that comes out of his mouth accidentally makes you cry.

contains: arguing, crying, comforting, fluff.

---------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘---------------

matt and i have spent the day out together, but hes been snapping at me for the smallest things. i've just brushed it off, i decided hes just tired and needs to get home.

"ready to go matt?" i ask, squeezing his hand as i heave myself up off the chairs in the mall.

"mhm.." matt hums, shutting off his phone and sitting up.

the loud chatter from crowds of people in the shopping center echos through my ears. matt walks ahead of me, i follow close behind as he walks through the double doors out into the parking lot.

he unlocks the car before letting himself in, shutting the car door behind him. "jesus" i mutter under my breath before opeing the passenger side and jumping in.

"so what should we get for dinner tonight?" i question, breaking the painfully loud silence.

"don't know" he replies quietly, his voice monotone.

"i could make us something?" i say, tapping my fingers on my leg as matt pulls out onto the street.

"sure." he responds with a slight nod of his head.

the rest of the car ride is silent, matt grips the steering wheel with both hands, taking sharp turns towards home.

"matt..?" i ask quietly,

"mhm" he mutters back,

"are you upset with me?" i say, my voice soft as i look directly on the road ahead.

"nope" matt sighs as he pulls into our garage.

i nod silently as he opens the door of the drivers side, he slams the door shut behind him and walking into the house. he doesnt even bother letting me out of the car, let alone leave the door to the house open.

i sit in the car for about a minute in silence, trying to think about what is actually pissing matt off today

i get out of the car and walk up the concrete stairs to our house, i approach the door to matt and i's bedroom, the door handle rattles before swinging open.

matt is sitting on his desk chair, scrolling on his phone. he doesn't even look up at me as i flop down on the bed.

i grab my airpods off our bedside table, accidentally knocking matts cup of coffee which has been marinating on the table for several hours.

the mug hits the wooden floor, the porcelain shattering and coffee painting the wooden planks.

i look up at matt, "shit-"

"can you actually fucking stop?" matt says, almost disgusted by me.

"you've been so annoying all day and i'm so sick of it. stop." he continues.

he stares directly into my eyes as those words exit his mouth.

i usually wouldn't cry if anyone said this to me, but today it feels so personal. they way hes been so uninterested in me, and now he says this to my face?

my eyes water as matt maintains eye contact, my bottom lip trembles as my throat feels like its practically closing in.

a loud sob exits my mouth as tears instantly start to stream down my face, my shoulders slouched and bouncing up and down as i stand infront of matt.

"you're being mean now matt" i say in between shaky breaths.

he stands in shock in front of me for a few seconds before grabbing me and pulling me into a passionately tight hug, he holds my head as i feel his hands shake slightly as he takes deep breaths.

after a few seconds i pull away from the hug "look at me, please" matt says, his voice soft as his mouth parts slightly.

i look up at him, my face drenched in tears. he bends over and picks me up, holding me up around his waist by my thighs.

he sits down on the bed with me, i'm sitting on his lap, almost straddling him as he sits back against the headboard.

"please don't cry, i promise i didn't mean to make you cry im so sorry-" matt rambles on, panic in his voice.

"i've been a proper dickhead today i don't know whats wrong with me i am so sorry"

i nod, he takes the sides of my face in his ringed hands, "i am so, so grateful to have you. i have been so tired recently and i've only been getting three or four hours of sleep a night because of nick, chris and is schedule for the past few weeks and its taken a toll on me"

"and its not your fault, nothing is okay?" he finishes, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction.

i nod "thank you", matt takes his hand and casually wipes the snot from under my nose.

"can you please give me a smile sweetheart?" he asks, his hands finally dropping slowly from the sides of my face down to my palms.

i wipe my eyes and give matt a somewhat ugly smile, matts face lights up "there she is" he smiles "gorgeous girl."

he taps my waist "do you want a shower?" he asks, its been a 'tradition' that matt and i have a shower together mosts nights.

"yeah" i smile warmly at matt, he sits up, picking me up off his lap and carrying me into his bathroom.

he sets me down on my feet and helps me get my clothes off, he follows, his clothes in a neat pile by the door.

i turn on the shower up to a high heat, the steam fogging the room.

matt steps in, "holy shit- i know i've been an asshole but do i deserve to be scolded alive- fuck." he laughs, his eyes scrunching and his wide grin plastered on his face.

"its nice!" i joke back, matt steps in again, trying to keep a straight face. "oh my god-" he whispers with a smile as he turns down the water temperature. "matt!!" i whine, slapping him lightly with a smirk "i had to" he says, reaching for the shampoo and squeezing it into his hand.

he rubs the shampoo into my hair, a comfortable silence fills the bathroom along with the sweet smell of strawberry shampoo.

suddenly matt breaks the silence,

"for the record, i did enjoy the mall with you earlier sweetheart, and i'm sorry i ruined it for you."

"awh matt, its okay i go to the mall every 2 days anyway." i coo back at him with a cheeky smile.

---------------------------

matts smile btw in the shower heat cause i thought it was cute

#nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut

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