Just letting everyone know that I’m going to be on social media a lot less for a while.
I’ve already been taking breaks but, aside from stream announcements, role announcements, and promoting friends/co-workers, don’t expect too much from me.
I’ve been, to put it lightly, the most depressed I’ve been in nearly a decade, and I’m really not doing great at all.
The social media break isn’t “to help me feel better”, because social media really isn’t the issue, the break is to just ensure I’m not just posting mostly negative or depressing things on my pages.
164 notes · View notes
Hi Thor how are you doing? Figured I'd check on you because depression is a bitch.
123 notes · View notes
I’ve seen people talking about this on Twitter but not here—guys, this is HUGE. Trent’s article really was about mental health advocacy in athletics!
“Much more must be done on and off the pitch to check players and managers in these cases are suitably trained to spot the signs of mental health and deal with this appropriately. The rate of male suicide has taken a dramatic rise over the last...”
652 notes · View notes
Not done with this one but just playing around and stuff. No time to really zone in and focus on rendering any specific part of it right now.
2K notes · View notes
I just gotta say
"I miss you, and I hope that you're okay"
430 notes · View notes
pspspsp can I just request an immortal reader who's life is just dull/sad as hell since they've seen their loved ones leave or die in front of them so many times
but when they meet SBI or anyone, their life just suddenly brightens up? (Platonic and it can be any type of fic!)
(A/N): I got waaaayy too carried away with this. Star god reader my beloved (also, I’d imagine that your cloak looks like this guy’s but on the inside with the outsides being any color of your choice (credit goes to original artist))
If you want more god!reader content with the dream smp, @wooloo-inc has a really good series about a male!nature god!reader (aka, the god of dilf collection)
In the beginning when DreamXD created you (which if you think about it, that makes him your father, but I digress) from stardust and meteorite shards, you were a ball of fun loving sunshine (well, starshine?)
You loved watching over all of humankind, admiring their determination and bonds with other humans (both romantic and platonic)
Your older brother, the god of the moon, told you about how they viewed you and you were amazed
“Oberon?” You ran up to your older brother and tugged on his cloak making him hum in question, not looking up from his parchment scroll. “What- what do the humans think of me?”
He scoffed and glanced at you with his lily white irises, “why are you on about them again? They are lowly creatures compared to us, filled with greed and misfortune.”
“They worship us and that’s how you speak of them?”
“(Y/n) believe me, you have not seen the brutality they are capable of. War, famine, greed, plague, genocide, it’s all something you have not witnessed before. You have only seen the good in those things.”
“But Oberon, I wanna-” he lightly smacked the side of your head, “use proper English. We are gods and you will behave as such.”
You huffed, “I want to know about how they view us! I do not care about the bad things they have done! Plleeeaaassseeeeeee Beri?” You willed the stars that constantly gleamed in your eyes to shine brighter as you fluttered your eyelashes at him. He may seem like he hated everyone and everything (especially his siblings), but he had a soft spot for his youngest sibling. He just stared at you for a bit before he sighed and shifted in the massive throne so that you could hop up onto his lap. With a wave of a slender pale hand, he conjured up various images of humans with stardust gazing at the stars and the moon with carefree swipes of his hand.
“They view us as… poetic of sorts. They compare us to romance,” an image of two human males kissing then gazing into the stars laying down on a cliff came into view, “fortune tellers,” an image of the Aquarius and the Capricorn constellations popped up making you squeal in happiness. He chucked and changed the picture to a mother and son standing over a grave looking up in amazement at a shooting star, “and most importantly, as a sign of hope.
“They see us as complementary, the moon and the stars cannot be as beautiful without the other. We hold the power of the night and everything it touches, (y/n). This is our kingdom, do not forget that,” the image changed to the moon surrounded by stars and swirling blues and purples of nebulas.
You looked at the images with awe, absorbing every word that fell from his mouth. “Beri?” He once again hummed, his deep baritone voice sending vibrations along your back. “Will we be together forever?”
His lanky arms wrapped around your much smaller frame, “for all of eternity. The moon is nothing without the night sky and all of the stars it holds.”
Centuries passed and your fascination with humans only grew from there
When you eventually asked if you could meet a human Oberon reacted angrily and forbade you from speaking of humans again in your shared palace, worried for your safety
When he caught you attempting to sneak out, he locked you in your room for months on end
Humans wondered why the stars hardly appeared in the night sky anymore, forming the theory that they had somehow angered you
They prayed to you more and more, begging and groveling for forgiveness
They left more offerings at shrines
You heard their every word, feeling your heartbreak with sorrow and guilt for your lovely humans
You snuck out of the palace that night determined to make it up to the humans
You quietly snuck past the main room where you and Oberon used to sit on your thrones together and control the night. The large doors were cracked open showing your older brother watching the night with boredom. As you passed, his voice startled you, “I just cannot stop you can I?”
He appeared in the doorframe looking at you emotionlessly, his eyes glinting with hidden pain. “Do you realize how cruel of a place that world is? How cruel humans are?”
“I do not care, brother! They are in anguish because they think I am angry with them! Because you locked me in here!”
“I have told you time and time again, they are ruthless creatures. Humans are constantly clashing with their own kind for the slightest bit of power, they’re greedy creatures! Have you forgotten what happened to Arachnia?”
A shiver went down your spine at the mention of your fellow deity. She wanted to be with humans but they stripped her of her grace and virtuosity, torturing her when the moon would rise. That is the reason spiders attack humans in the night when the moon and stars show themselves and are dormant in the daytime. However, that did not deter you.
“I have not forgotten what happened to Arachnia, her tale fills me with grief. But not all humans are like that! They are compassionate, loving, and sweet creatures deep down, each and every single one of them!”
“They were not showing compassion or love when they tore Arachnia limb from limb! When they languish in riches while millions die around them! What part of that is compassionate?”
“Sure they do bad things sometimes, but have you forgotten the love they hold for each other? The determination and hope shining from within them when they pray to us? Have you forgotten that?”
“THEIR ACTIONS ARE NOT JUSTIFIED IN ANY WAY!”
“AND OURS ARE? YOU ARE BLIND, OBERON. HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THE CRUELTY THE GODS HAVE SUBJECTED HUMANS TO? WHEN OUR FATHER TOOK YEARS AWAY FROM THEIR LIFESPANS SOLELY BECAUSE THEY STOPPED WORSHIPPING HIM AS OFTEN AS THEY USED TO? WHAT PART OF THAT IS JUSTIFIED?”
He just stared at you with angry irises and his chest heaving before he ran a hand through his long ivory hair and turned around, the flowing white cape flowing wildly behind him with unseen air. He walked back into the observation room and back to his throne. Without a second glance to you, he worked on the transition of power between the sun and moon. You could imagine your sister Aelia grinning brightly as she rose the sun for the day.
“You are to never return here if you step foot out that door. You will still have control of your duties of the night. However you will never return. Do not come back groveling for forgiveness when I have given you constant warnings of their cruelty. If I see your face show up here, I will make sure father smites you down. Now get out of my sight.”
You huffed and whipped around to the front entrance, the stars that constantly twinkled and the nebulas that constantly swirled in the inside of your cloak illuminating the white floors below you as you ran. You left the palace without a second thought, leaving your old life behind in favor of spending it with the humans.
When you came crashing to the Earth in a shooting star, you were amazed by the beauty of it up close and in person
It was everything you expected and then some
You heard the humans cheering and thanking you in their prayers when the stars returned brighter than usual
You being completely enamoured by all of the humans, even if they recognized you or not you loved them all unconditionally
You set up a little cottage in the tundra where you could see the night sky clearly with the occasional aurora borealis
From the roof, you controlled the stars
The tales of you defecting from the heavens was a popular one, and you became somewhat of a symbol of the hope that humanity should hold for themselves and compassion
Occasionally sending shooting stars over humans you knew were stargazing
You have met many lovers, friends, and even your own adopted kids over the next millenia, all of them accepting your immortality and everlasting duties
But it’s all the same in the end: they come, they leave, and they die
With each death of your loved ones, you could feel your will to keep going dissipate
The stars grew dimmer gradually in the night sky
The humans gradually stopped worshipping you as you disappeared from the night skies
You became a distant memory for elders to tell children
Disappearing from the face of the Earth for a few centuries when you could not take the constant deaths any longer
Nobody knew where your cabin laid so you were undisturbed for centuries on end, left to your grief
That was until a knock sounded at your door
The knock startled you out of the comfort of your bed. Reluctantly, you left the warmth of the multitude of blankets and donned your cloak to hide your unkempt appearance. When you passed the mirror hanging in the hallway, you could see that your face was shrouded by darkness with the exception of a single glint where your eyes were caused by the lone star that was a constant reminder of your position. Before you fell into a deep depression, the stars would illuminate your entire face if you put your hood up.
You opened the front door without a care in the world. If the beings on the other side were humans that would take you away and torture you, you didn’t care. You’re long past the point of caring for your own well being.
On the other side was a man of average height and long shaggy blond hair pulled into a slick ponytail. He was dressed entirely in green with a green and white striped bucket hat placed on his head. Past you would’ve been cooing at the object, but now you dully looked at the man in front of you. You glanced behind him and your eyes widened at the huge black wings sprouting from his back. You know who he was the second your eye caught the black feathers; he was the Angel of Death.
“Hello, Angel of Death.”
He tried to peer into your shrouded features, only seeing two pinpricks of light where your eyes should be. He gave you a friendly smile, brushing off the snow that gathered on his shoulders. “(Y/n), the God of the Stars and the Night Sky. Giver of compassion to the human race, it’s an honor to meet you.”
“Why are you here? Last time I checked, my last lover died centuries ago.”
“Yes, my condolences. They were lovely when I guided their soul to the afterlife.”
“You still have not answered my question, Angel of Death. Why are you here?” You grit out the last sentence through a clenched jaw. He has no right to talk about them when he assisted in taking them away from you. Him and your cousin, the Goddess of Death Kristin. They took everybody you loved away from you. You knew that their deaths were unavoidable since they were human and you were immortal, but you still couldn’t help but resent them.
“The Goddess of Death sent me. The God of the Moon and the Goddess of the Sun sent her a request to send me to check on you.”
You stared at him for a few moments before you saw him shivering slightly and sighed. You always had a soft spot for humans, even if the being in front of you was not a human in the slightest. He reminded you of an old friend. You stepped aside and gestured lazily inside the house, “come in.”
He started to visit more and more over the next century
He eventually befriended you about half a century into the visits
It was extremely difficult to do because of how guarded you were, but he managed to break you out of your shell
You realizing how kind he was and how much he cared for you
You quickly came to the realization that he was immortal as well after reading up on the Angel of Death
After another fifty years, he became your best friend
You both opened up and comforted each other about everybody you both lost over the years
When he adopted Technoblade and then Wilbur not long after Techno, you were extremely hesitant to get close to them
Even going as far as telling Philza that you thought that it was an extremely bad idea
Mortals always end up leaving in the end anyways, it’s best to avoid the endless cycle of hurt that came with having mortals around
You told him about your own adopted children that have died over the years
You refuse to meet them, cutting off all communication with Philza for a year or two
Eventually meeting his three adopted kids when you reluctantly accept a dinner invitation one day
You attempted to appear cold and uncaring, but your love for humans (especially baby humans) shone through when an infant Tommy started to play with your cape
It seemed that the stars and the moving nebulas within the fabric entranced him
From then on whenever you visited Philza, you always held Tommy until he was too old for you to do so
Becoming very attached to the blond with your strong innate parental instincts
You introduce Techno to mythology, sharing stories of your personal interactions with certain gods and entities throughout the years
You teach Techno how to cope with the voices as you constantly hear multiple prayers to you from humans at the same time
You arrange a meeting for Wilbur with the Goddess of Music when he asks you about her
Arranging for her to start giving him lessons in exchange of a favor that will be cashed at a later date
You help raise all three of them, often taking them off Philza’s hands for a night or two
Their favorite activity with you is watching you raise the stars and turn the sky dark
They always loved to watch you move the stars and summon shooting stars for them
The stars gradually returned to your eyes and a constant ecstatic smile slowly became synonymous with your face again
Humans started to worship you again when the stars in the sky became brighter
You became your old self again after centuries of feeling lost
To repay them for everything they’ve done for you, you decided to rearrange the stars for one night
One night of having a different star pattern couldn’t hurt
Sure, it’d make a few theories pop up among the humans, but those are fun to overhear sometimes
The young boys and Philza behind you watched in awe as your eyes started to glow brightly and you slowly moved your hands gracefully raising the stars with the moon, your cloak starting to flow with nonexistent winds. They’ve seen you raise the stars thousands of times, but it never ceases to amaze them. It was just so… entrancing.
You broke into a slight sweat and started to move the stars from their original positions in the sky. Shaking slightly, you pushed back against the strain and slight pain that it brought you. You’ve never done this before, so you really didn’t know what you were expecting. You felt someone put a hand on your shoulder.
“What’re you doin, mate?”
“Not now Techno. Mate, are you alright?”
“Dad, look up. They’re rearranging the stars,” Wilbur breathed out.
You could hear Philza gasp slightly as he watched star after star move until they locked into place. There in the twinkling night sky was each of their names gleaming brightly in small lettering. When you were done, you fell into a kneel onto the ground and rubbed at your aching head panting lightly.
You could hear the boys around you panic slightly as you regained your breath. As you heard them approach you you looked up at them and smiled, the stars gleaming brightly in your irises. “Do you like it?”
“Y-yes but gods, (y/n) are you alright?”
“I am fine, but stars, I have never done that before. Are you four ready for stargazing?”
“That was so pog, (y/n)! How’d you do that?”
“I hold the power of the stars and the night sky in my hands. My brother once told me that the night is our kingdom.” You laid down onto the grass and took off your cloak to cover up a shivering Tommy and Wilbur next to you. You sighed as you thought about your siblings; you wondered how they were doing.
“I will gladly move the stars themselves for you four. You are my family.” There was a stretched out moment of comfortable silence as you five watched shooting stars blaze by. Eventually, you saw an aurora borealis materialize above you. Furrowing your brow, you looked at it in question. They don’t appear this time of year, so why-
“Aelia,” you breathed out as you watched the greens flow above you. She must’ve sent a gust of solar wind your way.
“Isn’t Aelia the Goddess of the Sun?” Wilbur asked you.
“Yes, she is my oldest sister. She must have redirected the solar winds over here.”
“Damn, what’s with the gods changing everything tonight? You guys need to fuckin chill.”
“Tommy!” Philza scolded and was about to continue before he heard you start to laugh. They’ve only heard you genuinely laugh only a couple of times, so the sound that left your mouth immediately brightened the mood.
“Yes Tommy, I suppose we do need to ‘fucking chill’.”
“You swore! Fuckin pog,” Tommy cheered to himself as the others looked at you in slight shock at your words. If you’re being completely honest in all of the years you spent alive (which is since basically the beginning of time), you’ve never sworn once. You were raised differently than that. When you realized that the others were staring at you, you smirked at them. The stars twinkling and giving your eyes even more of a mischievous glint, “what? Have you never heard a god swear before?”
General taglist (comment if you want to be added):
@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur
1K notes · View notes
Things I Thought Were Just A Part of Growing Up But Were Actually Signs of Mental Health Struggles (TW)
Frequent headaches and unexplained pain
Dissociating ("zoning out") so often that I often didn't know what was going on in the real world
Having a much harder time focusing than I used to
Being very fidgety and talking super fast
Not wanting to keep going for another day
Having a hard time sleeping
Pushing people who cared about me away
Feeling lonely but not wanting to do anything
Feeling that the world would be a better place without me
There are many other signs that your mental health may be suffering, these were just the ones I experienced. In fact, some of these signs have opposites that are also signs - for instance, sleeping very little can be a warning sign, as can sleeping a lot.
We don't talk enough about these signs, so people live their lives thinking that struggling this much is normal. I even justified self-harming and suicidal behavior as "normal" because no one in my house ever talked about mental health.
If we want people to get help for their mental health conditions, we have to start normalizing talking about the symptoms.
256 notes · View notes
Could you do mcyts finding out there s/o cuts? It can be head cannons, and a GN!reader, you can ignore this request if it makes you feel uncomfortable.
↳ Request above!
Characters: [CC] Dream, Georgenotfound, Sapnap, Wilbur Soot, Quackity and Karl Jacobs.
TW: self harm.
Not of you but for you.
He always had his suspicions, but to actually see you in the act. It scares him.
He takes the blade you were using away, he puts it far from your reach and bandages you in quiet. He was just trying to process it all.
He’ll hide any known sharp object he can, anything he finds could harm you.
“Please, Babe, please talk to me. I’m right here.”
He honestly has no idea what to do. He’s terrified at the sight of someone he loves dearly hurting themselves.
He’ll start by stuttering that you give him the blade. He’ll dispose of it in the kitchen garbage first, then returning to you with a warm wet cloth for your newest wounds.
He only has Band-Aids, so he’ll go buy proper supplies for you later.
And in the corner of his eyes, tears are visible.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. Right? It’ll be all right, Y/n.”
He swears his heart started beating in his throat.
He is so quick to take the blade from your grip and throw it across the room.
He’ll hold you and cradle carefully your arm as he rocks you back and forth, whispering words of affirmation.
His grip is tight and reassuring, it’s enough o make anyone feel warm and cared for.
“You’re okay, Beautiful. We’ll get through this, okay?”
I get the feeling he knows a lot about this subject. I don’t know why, but he strikes me as someone who knows this stuff.
He’ll be calm about the situation when he walks in and sees the blade in your hand, close to your area of cutting.
He calmly ask for the blade, holding out his hand from a distance.
He sort of treats you like a scared kitten on the streets, but it works. He gets the blade and he gets you patched up. He’ll put you in bed with some warm tea or any preferred beverage to sooth you.
“You’re okay, Love. I’m right here. Let’s lay in bed together for a bit, yes?”
He can feel his heart beating at a thousand miles per hour.
He can only see you and the blade on your skin. And somehow all the signs he should’ve noticed before are there in front of him.
He’ll have a sense to blame himself for not seeing the signs and being there for you.
“Babe, do you…do you…come here, please.”
He has that scared puppy look on his face as he stares at the sight in front of him.
He grabs the blade from you with the shakiest hands and bandage you up with sloppiness. He’s just scared for you.
He holds you so tight afterwards. He keeps his arms around you with his face in the crook of your neck.
Out of all the boys, he was the only one who full on cried.
“You’re okay, Baby. We’ll make it better, okay?”
986 notes · View notes
Beware the Beast
Pairing: Yandere!Philza x Reader
Request: Maybe some yandere!philza headcanons? You don’t have to!
Word Count: 2k
Warning: yandere, swearing, talk about kidnapping, depression (kinda detailed on that aspect)
A/n: I accidentally turned this into a story- i really need to stop doing that. But I just couldn't resist! Also sorry if Phil is OOC. And this isn't proofread. We die like men here. Can be perceived as platonic or romantic.
This man has lived many years, lost so many loved ones. He’s getting tired of this cycle. It’s truly exhausting. You start to care about the world less. After a while, you start to see too many similarities in things, making it hard to look at. So he starts to close his heart to others. It’s just easier that way, for both parties. Saves him from the heartbreak and them from… well, him. He also stops caring for himself. After all, he’s literally immortal. Nothing can kill this man, so neglecting some self care routines every once in a while wouldn’t hurt…
But this becomes such a bad habit of his. He barely cares for himself after a while. It’s hard to find the energy when it isn’t going to matter in the end. Nothing matters anyways. Every action will always prove fruitless in the end. So what’s the point in doing something so... small if it takes this much energy? If a past version of himself saw Phil now, they’d be disgusted. Telling him to just get up and care for himself. Come on, you’re immortal. Nothing can kill you. Just do this.
He’s a mess when you two meet. His platinum-blonde hair was mostly neat, a little shaggy. It was obvious that he just got himself cleaned up a bit. One can only do so much about deep eyebags, dull hair, and lifeless eyes on such short notice.
You were introduced to him through Ghostbur. Phil was overjoyed that Ghostbur was making more friends. Though much less pleased when Ghostbur insisted that he’d bring his new friend over to meet Phil. Oh come on Phil, you’d just love them. They’re so nice! What tortured Philza more than his first interaction with you? His conversations with Ghostbur about you. He’d just prattle on about things you and him did, about how much fun you two had and how nice you were. Always nice.
And you were nice, an absolute sweetheart. But much too perky for Philza’s liking. You two had been chatting for quite a while when Ghostbur silently leaves you two together. Well, you’re chatting. Phil is just listening to you, hoping that you’d leave at any moment. Some topics were brought up; they were mostly some small icebreakers to get acquainted more.
When your past was brought up, you’d always paint this fucking picture-perfect past. So peaceful. God, the envy he had of you, of the peace you experienced in your life- He felt bad for it, honestly, he did. But he just wished he could’ve had even a fraction of the prosperity you spoke about. For someone living in the DSMP, you had a relatively easy and steady life. No war, no major or sudden loss or anything of that sort. A perfect life.
After that, you just kept coming back. Why? Why are you coming back? Are you here to taunt him for the life he lived? For the life he’ll never have? Is some god sending you as a punishment? A living example of everything he gave up, had to leave behind. That’s what he believed, anyways.
That was far from your intentions. You saw how he was in your first meeting; jumpy yet dissociating from reality. An oppressive, glum aura seemed to just emanate him. So downtrodden and dead inside, yet so obviously alive on the outside. It hurt to see him like that, as you went through something similar. You had no idea how long he’d been like that, but you decided that you’d help him in any way that you could.
You tried to make it a daily thing. Everyday you’d go to Phil’s house around midday to afternoon. You two would talk for a bit, but you’d couldn’t help sprinkling your questions in. Have you eaten yet, mr. Philza? Have you had water today, mr. Philza? Have you preened your feathers, mr. Philza? Have you bathed today, mr. Philza?
Your questions irked Phil. Everyday, without fail, you’d come and talk to him. It’d be small talk at first; what the weather was up to that day, some light politics, Tubbo’s new adopted son. Small. Yet you’d always bring up his self care. He was a fcking grown man. He could take care of himself. What’s worse? You’d pester him to care for himself in that instant if he even showed a small sign of negligence. And you’d stay the entire time, making sure he did everything. And then you’d always add “mr. Philza” on the end. It was a sign of respect, yet it upset him so much. But he couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was.
Though it was annoying, it got him in the habit of caring for himself. It was only to stop your pesting! That’s the reasoning. The only reason. It wasn’t because you’re congratulating and giving him treats when he remembered to care for himself. Or you petting his wings… Those were only bonuses! He swears!
It becomes more steady as time goes on; you go and visit Phil, you talk with Phil and see if he’s caring for himself, and if he was, you’d reveal a delicious treat from within your enderchest. You two would talk while munching on the food, having fun sharing what your pasts were like. Well, more like yours. Phil didn’t really talk about his.
But he still seems so cold, disinterested. Even with how long you’ve been going over for. Like he’s only listening to what you’re telling him. If he’s even listening. And seeing how he interacted with others like Techno and Ranboo, it really disheartened you. He was so much more lively with them, more natural. Loud laughing and silly little antics. It only took a few small, insignificant depression episodes for your self doubt to finally debilitate you. Though it only really affected your contact with Phil; he was a big insecurity of yours.
So you start to distance yourself. You were hurting and saw yourself as a bother to Philza. It would’ve been better if you just didn’t try to talk to him anymore. He’d be so much happier without you bugging him all the time. All of this sudden, open time gives you much more empty hours. There was nothing to do. So you did what you could; you went out to make or strengthen friendships. It was so nice. You never realized how everyone on the smp was so nice. Maybe they weren’t as bad as Phil was making them all out to be…
Philza was upset the first day you weren’t there. You were such a steady element of his day. You were like the very air he breathed; it was extremely hard to live without you. He never noticed before how much he needed you. Yes, he knew that he really enjoyed you, saw that you were a pillar, a constant in his life. He came to enjoy your visits, but hadn’t realized how dependent he became because of them. It was day three when Phil started to worry about you. Why hadn’t you come to talk with him, like usual? He’s taking care of himself, just for you, just like you kept insisting he do. And he made you some cake.
He knew he was acting odd, lovesick even. His love for you was toxic, extremely so. It wasn’t healthy, yet he couldn’t care less anymore. You were like his nicotine to a smoker; he couldn't live without you being in his life. His everyday life. So after some debating, he finally went out to look for you.
Traversing the nether wasn’t too bad, but still a tedious walk. He was stuck in his mind the entire trip there, wondering where you could be and what you could be doing. Maybe you got caught up in making something. A redstone project? That’d be pretty cool. Or maybe moving? No, if you were, you’d have told him. But that didn’t stop him from speeding up just a wee bit. Just to make sure you were actually still on the smp.
His mind was racing, thinking of any possibility of what you were doing. And his mind eventually hit something that absolutely terrified him; you could be sick, injured, or dying. It felt like the world just fucking stopped. This was a sudden loss of contact and you still hadn’t come to talk with him. So that… that means there’s a high probability of you being in danger.
He ran the rest of the way to the main part of the smp. When he came out of the portal, he frantically looked around for any sign of you. For your house. Then it hit him; he had no idea where you lived. You only mentioned it being cold where you lived, just like where he lived. So that most likely meant Snowchester. He started running toward the cold nation
On his way to Snowchester, he observed his surroundings. A little bit. He had to get to you, keep his eye on the prize. And he was glad that he looked around. There you were, on another part of the prime path.
He was overjoyed to see you, especially doing so well. Soon he came to a stop. Just floored by the fact you were there, in front of him. Frantically he tried to view you as best he could, looking for any sign of injury or illness.
Now he couldn’t come across as clingy or desperate. That wasn’t how you knew him. You know him as Philza; the kind but a mild social recluse. Not really going out to others unless he needed something or he was needed.
So he walked over to you, trying his best to look nonchalant. Like he wasn’t just desperately searching for you a moment ago. He called out to you and guess what happened? You started to walk away. He was stunned. Did you just ignore him? No, you must not have heard him. It was kinda windy out at the moment.
Logically he did the best option, following you. He had no clue where your destination could be. You were going to a different area of the smp than he had been. My how the smp changed since the destruction of L’manberg. He knew it changed, but it seemed so much bigger than what you described.
He didn’t exactly pay attention to where you were indirectly leading him. That was until a flash of movement caught his attention. Snapping out of it, he looked to see what could’ve been going on. Who could’ve been there. And what he saw before him was a terrible sight.
Quackity stood by your side, animatedly chatting with you. Phil was confused as to why you were talking to Quackity of all people. You two recently talked about how Quackity was problematic and arrogant. If you knew that, then why were you talking to him?
Awkwardly he watched you. Not within earshot, but where he could keep an eye on you and Quackity. And Quackity was looking at Phil too. His eyes spoke volumes; Quackity wasn’t pleased that Phil was there. Boy was that sentiment shared. It was tense between the two, yet you still seemed oblivious to what was going on.
Then Quackity said something, putting his hand on your shoulder and leading you somewhere else. But gave one last look at Phil, one that just spoke “fuck off”. Phil wished he could’ve told Quackity the same. To get him away for you.
Quackity’s action sparked a thought in him. A reason as to why you hadn’t come to talk to Phil; Quackity must’ve kidnapped you! Yes, that’s why you hadn’t come. It makes so much sense. Quackity knows you and most likely knows you talk to Phil.
With how easily you tell Phil of the people you’re talking to, he doubts that the behavior would just change. But that’s what must’ve gotten you in so much trouble; you were too trusting, too kind-hearted. You gave Quackity a chance and he was stealing you away, imprisoning you. You needn’t worry dear, he’ll rescue you from that foul man.
863 notes · View notes
Hi ~ I saw an ask about an unwilling lover and was wondering about the opposite ^^ Can you make yandere Xiao, Zhongli and Childe with a willing lover? Something like: Darling hasn't been kidnapped yet and desperately wants love from anyone, and when they discover they have a stalker, they try their best to love their yandere. This is obviously more of an attempt to fill a hole in their heart than an actual true love, but it doesn't matter, right? Sorry if asks are closed >.>
Acquiescence | Yan!Liyue x Reader
Warnings: Slight N-SFW, dark themes, general yandere themes, emotional horror, tw: depression, tw: isolation, tw: victim-blaming, tw: damaged self-esteem, this is NOT a healthy relationship.
“I had built up false pictures in my mind and sat before them. I had never had the courage to demand the truth.”
― Daphne du Maurier.
A feeling of emptiness had always invaded your mind like an unwanted visitor refusing to leave. You longed for something, anything that would give you purpose and importance.
You had entered a vicious cycle of hope and disappointment early in your life that gradually began to wear you down as time passed. The guilt for every inconvenience you caused, great or small, stayed with you, turning into larger shadows that darkened your sense of self.
Without ever meaning to, you became shy and devoted to the smallest drops of happiness you could find. Having spent so many years alone, it became difficult for you to connect with others the way you wanted to, without the restraints of self-consciousness and self-perceived awkward inability to give a good first impression.
Sadly, you were not aware of all of those people who admired your kindness and selflessness. Your mind never allowed you to see the grateful smile of the old lady you always stopped every morning to talk to, erasing her own loneliness with your warmth. Or the admiration in your young neighbor's eyes as you repaired his broken toy yet again, without a single reproach ever leaving your lips.
You were loved, deservedly so, by everyone who crossed your path. Life could have been so different for you if only the right kind of people saw the hurt behind the walls you so quietly protected.
To be fair, you never stood a chance against him.
Your gentle, trusting demeanor that was once your greatest virtue is turned into nothing but your own doom in his hands.
He's aware that you don't actually love him, he just doesn't care. To him, it's just a matter of time.
After all, he can give you everything you wanted and more.
He can sense every weakness, every little insecurity of yours, and use it to his advantage.
He tells you about his childhood home, and how he hopes for you to meet his family.
You know that he's manipulating you, and he knows that you know.
If anything makes things more interesting for him.
Because... you stay. And let yourself be trapped in his web.
Whatever he asks for, you give it to him. Be it the increasing amount of time he demands from you, or other, darker requests.
"Oh, Angel. You are always so tense! It's ok, I find it cute, actually."
You close your eyes and hope that pleasure will eventually override your uneasiness. Your body yields to all that your soul finds most abhorrent.
Worst of all, you find a hellish delight in it.
A part of you hopes that one day you'll grow to love him.
After all, he's there to provide every bit of the closeness you crave for.
You know the price... and pay it anyways.
"Pain is pleasure, isn't that right sweetpea?"
He's the most conflicted about it. He's the one to at least try to put your feelings into consideration at first, but once he savors what you are so willing to give him, it becomes some sort of addiction.
The way he can make you feel needed is what traps you.
You can sense his suffering, the way he craves for your touch, your smiles, your mere presence.
So you stay with him, you care for him, you let him do what he pleases.
Everything starts innocently enough, he just wants to be near you.
He listens to you, never quite understanding your own struggles.
He tries everything you cook for him, despite only liking his usual almond tofu.
He rests his head on your shoulder, softly closing his eyes, even though he knows that his dreams could only bring him pain.
His lips tremble in your skin, he knows he doesn't deserve this.
He knows you don't love him... Or maybe, just maybe, you actually do? Maybe you are just not acquainted with this feeling yet, but you can be one day, right?
So it's okay if he keeps taking what he wants from you.
You delude yourself thinking that is okay at least, you believe that you need him like he needs you.
But he'll always want more. His eyes are now always strangely clouded.
"Stay still, stay still. Just... once more."
You never truly see any red flags when it comes to this dapper gentleman.
How lucky you are to have such an intelligent, generous, and mature man interested in you.
The fact that you can't truly return his feelings? That's another proof of your constant self-sabotage. But don't worry, he's here to fix you... like one would fix a doll.
He slowly takes control over every aspect of your life. What you wear, what you eat, what you do, what you think.
You look more beautiful than ever, love. Has that old lady said that your eyes don't shine like they used to? Old, lonely people say the darndest of things.
Even so, hearing those things can't be good to you, who is so sensitive to the opinions of others. You should stop seeing her.
His controlling behavior never comes in the form of an order, ever. These are just suggestions to make your life better.
If you were to fail his high expectations, he would never get mad at you dear, he'd just be disappointed™.
After all, your life has gotten better, hasn't it? It's normal to relapse into old habits that do you no good.
His shadow overwhelms you. You grow smaller and quieter each day that passes. You yearn to please him, in any way he wants.
"Don't need to fret my love, there are things you are yet to learn."
532 notes · View notes
Bucky x f!reader
Summary: There's a reason Y/N has never had more than 3 drinks around the other avengers, and they're about to find out.
Warnings: depression, thoughts of suicide, panic attacks, angst (don't worry there's fluff too)
Word Count: 4322
a/n: This is inspired by that episode of Brooklyn 99 with 6 drink Amy (I adopted that concept!) and also Halsey's album Manic. :) I hope you like it. Anything in bold is a lyric from one of the songs on the album!
Please let me know if I messed up the trigger warning tags! I've never written anything like this before, so I just want to make sure I do it right.
"We're having a party tonight." Tony's announcement was met with the usual groans of annoyance at having to schmooze with the typical socialites that attended Tony's party. "You know, you are so ungrateful sometimes. here I am trying to throw you a party, and you're complaining!"
"Tony, we all appreciate the effort you go to, but- at least speaking for me- I don't like people." Y/N's response was effortless, swiftly calming Tony and explaining the reactions.
"That is why-" Tony stuttered when he actually registered the words you said. "That doesn't sound like you at all. And besides, this is a party for just us. It'll be more like team building, but without any pre-planned activities. No "smarmy, rich people" to deal with." He directed his last sentence at Bucky, Steve, and Sam.
The team actually seemed excited at the prospect, albeit skeptical of Tony's motivations.
Unsurprisingly, Nat worked up the courage to question him on it first, "what's the catch?"
"No catch. Just friends, food, and lots of alcohol." His grin quickly shifted into a smirk as the entire room turned to look at you.
You groaned slightly, not wanting all the attention. "Look, there is a reason I cap myself at 3 drinks." Holding up one finger, you started to explain, "One drink Y/N is barely any different from my sober self."
Wanda quickly cut you off, "not true! You get louder." She smirked, happy to have added that tidbit of information.
"Fine." With a laugh, you admitted she was right. "I might get the tiniest bit louder." You held up a second finger to continue your explanation, but were once again cut off.
"It's not a bad thing. It's just your happy, bubbly, and slightly louder than normal personality shining through!" Nat added, seeing an opportunity to tease you for being so positive all the time.
"Thanks Nat. Anyway," emphasizing the rudeness of being interrupted twice, you continued, "two drink Y/N is more touchy feely than normal. Not in a creepy way though!"
"I love two drink Y/N. She gives the best hugs!" Thor eagerly added to the conversation, glad to have dropped by when he did.
"Thanks Thor." With a small smile in his direction, you held up a third finger. "Three drink Y/N is the perfect amount of just past tipsy to have fun without doing anything extremely embarrassing. It makes the most sense to stop there." You finished her little speech with your typical smile and a resolute nod of your head.
"Seriously, you need to relax. Just let loose this one time!" Sam tried to encourage you. With the eyes of nearly every avenger set on you, your resolve didn't last very long.
"Fine! Maybe I'll have a fourth drink." You were met with cheers as you rose from your spot on the couch, trying to prepare for the night that was to come.
As soon as you stepped off the elevator, you had a drink in your hand. Clearly your friends were going to make sure you got a fourth drink. even Steve seemed excited when he saw you, although his golden boy personality didn't disappear completely.
"You sure about this? I don't want you to feel pressured!" Bucky nodded, weirdly enthusiastically, before adding, "Yeah doll, don't drink more than you want to."
"You two are too sweet. Sam's right, but don't tell him I said that." You winked at the two super soldiers, emphasizing the joke. "I should let myself relax sometimes. I'm in a safe place, with friends who won't let anything happen to me. What could a few more drinks really do?" You couldn't help but smile at how true that was. You were surrounded by people who care about you.
"Oh, so now it's a few more drinks? What are we talking here, six drink Y/N? Seven?" Bucky teased.
"You'll have to wait and see, Ducky." You teased right back, knowing how flustered he got at the pet name. Steve laughed at his friend as you walked away, ready for your second drink.
Before long, you had your fourth drink in your hand. It was slightly odd how literally everyone was staring at you, but your were three drink Y/N at the time, so you were drunk enough not to care.
You downed the fourth drink, unprepared for the consequences.
"So, Y/N... how do you feel?" Clint braved the waters, everyone eagerly awaiting your reaction.
"That is so nice of you to ask! I feel great! I don't think I've ever been this happy." You jumped up and down, hugging Clint with a huge smile on your face.
"How did you get even happier?" Tony chuckled, shaking his head slightly.
"Do you not like it?" Like a switch had been flipped, you were nearly crying.
"What?! No!" Tony was so taken aback at the tears pooling in your eyes, he froze, unsure how to fix it. He looked around the room for help, but everyone else was just as shocked as him.
"I'll fix it!" You were at the bar, fixing another drink before anyone fully comprehended your mood swing.
You walked back up to the group, sipping from your fifth drink as if nothing happened. "What?" You questioned the odd looks, but before receiving an answer you squealed, again jumping up and down. "Let's dance!" You turned around, ready to move to the more open area before looking back over your shoulder, "Wanda! Nat! Pepper! Come on!"
The women shared a look, ultimately shrugging before joining you on the makeshift dance floor.
"Bucky, you've been staring at her for 20 straight minutes. When are you finally gonna talk to her?" Steve couldn't help but pester him about his feelings.
"I can't help it. I've never seen her dance so much. I mean, I know she's always happy, but this is a whole new level." He didn't take his eyes off of you, even when he was responding. "I can't tell her tonight, though. This is the most she's had to drink in years."
He watched as you moved back over to the bar, needing another drink after dancing so much.
"Here we go, six drink Y/N." Bucky gestured to the bar. Steve shook his head, but allowed the change of topic.
About five minutes after your sixth drink, you were somehow bounding around with even more energy. You were nearly running around the room, trying to talk to everyone at once.
"Ducky! Have I ever told you I took gymnastics lessons for 7 years when I was younger?" You were bouncing with pent up energy, excited to be sharing more information about yourself.
"No, you've actually never mentioned that." He smiled, enraptured by your childlike enthusiasm, so enraptured that he didn't notice the mischief in your eyes.
"Well, I did! Watch this." You handed a confused Bucky your now empty glass, turning and throwing your arms up. Bucky realized two late what was happening, and with both yours and his glasses in his hands, he couldn't physically stop you.
"Y/N, wait!" His shout had everyone turn and look as you flawlessly executed two cartwheels in a row.
Bucky would swear your smile got even bigger as you turned around to look at him again.
"Normally I can do more, but" you hiccuped, then lowered your voice to a really terrible whisper, "I'm a little drunk." You leaned into him, laughing as if you just told a joke.
Wanda walked up to you with a seventh drink, hoping seven drink Y/N had a little less energy, but happy to see you having so much fun. "Here ya go! One more of your favorites, just like you asked."
"Thank youuuuuu!" You shifted to hug Wanda, leaving Bucky to miss your added warmth.
You sipped your seventh drink slower than the rest, quickly running out of energy. Sliding the empty glass across the bar, you slipped out of the party unnoticed, making your way to the kitchen for some pickles- your favorite drunk food.
Your seventh drink hit you just after you opened the pickles. Gone was the happy, bubbly persona you showed the world. The mask slipped away, leaving you alone to contemplate your life choices.
You made your way to to the lounge just outside of the kitchen, choosing to lay on the floor behind the couch and stare out of the large floor to ceiling windows.
"Where's Y/N?" Bucky glanced around the room, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
"Huh? Oh, she said she wanted a snack." A very drunk Wanda turned to look at where the food was set up, scrunching her face in confusion when she couldn't find you. "Weird. Maybe she went to the bathroom?"
Bucky, having noticed your absence 8 minutes ago, didn't think you left for a bathroom break. "Maybe." Plus, you always took the girls to the bathroom with you. His eyes flitted about the room, taking one more glance before deciding to go look for you.
He decided to head for the kitchen since Wanda said you wanted a snack. He laughed at the open jar of pickles, knowing you at least passed through this room. He put the pickles away before popping his head into the lounge area.
"Y/N?" He called out, figuring this was the most likely location for you to end up.
You hummed in response, not moving from your spot on the floor. Bucky walked further into the room, slightly confused as to why he could hear you but not see you. That is, until he realized you were laying on the floor behind the couch.
"Why are you on the floor?" He smiled when he found you.
"I'm just looking at the sky." Your voice held a melancholy air as it floated through the room. Bucky's smile faltered, not used to hearing you sad. In the three years he's known you, he's only ever seen you sad because of a movie or tv show. Otherwise, you were quite literally always happy.
"Why-" he faltered, unsure how to check on you. "Is everything okay?" he nearly choked the words out, feeling slightly stressed at your sudden gloominess.
"Yeah." You took a deep breath, slowly letting it out in a deep sigh. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... I don't know." You sigh again, still looking at the sky.
Bucky chances another question, wanting to get you talking since you're acting so off. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel... so sorry." You words were so soft that Bucky could barely hear them.
"Sorry?" He tried to hide his confusion, matching your soft tone as he sat down a few feet away from you. "About what doll?"
"Just... because I feel so sad." Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn't stop staring at the sky.
"What are you sad about?" It's taking everything in him for Bucky not to hold you right now. He doesn't want to make you even more upset, especially because he's never seen you like this.
"No one around me knows who I am..." He watched as a tear rolled down your cheek, shining in the light from the moon.
Bucky moves closer, just close enough for him to reach out and hold your hand. You squeeze it, instant relief flooding through him that he hasn't crossed any boundaries.
He goes to speak, but you cut him off. "I'm not breaking. I won't take it. And I won't ever feel this way again." Your voice is harder, as if your angry with yourself.
"Hey, hey, hey. It's okay to have feelings. You're allowed to feel like this. Don't push it away. Talk to me. Why don't you think anyone knows who you are? We're all here for you, Y/N." He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, trying to convey how serious he is.
You let out a dry laugh, wiping the the tears from your cheek. "My self preservation..." Bucky can tell there's more to, choosing to wait for you to continue. "All of my reservations..." You sigh again, sitting up, you scoot closer until you can lean your forehead against his shoulder. "I bottle it up. I'm my own biggest enemy." You let out another dry laugh, shaking your head without moving it from its resting place on Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky wraps his arm around you and leans his cheek against your head. "Take your time. You can talk to me." He whispered, trying to keep you talking without getting mad at yourself again.
"Well, I'd like to tell you that my sky is not blue, it's violent rain." The sounds of your sniffles break his heart. "I just pretend everything's fine because that's what I had to do when I was younger." Rather then interrupting, Bucky continues to rub small circles on your hand and your back, encouraging you to continue when you're ready. "Can I tell you a story? I... I think it'll help explain some of it."
"Of course. Anything you need, doll." He curses himself for the pet name, not wanting you to think he's joking. He just can't help it when it comes to you.
"Thank you, ducky." You chuckle, but your words are just as sincere as his. "You know I have two sisters, and I love them with all my heart, but sometimes growing up with them was hard. My older sister, she put so much pressure on herself to succeed. And, she did. She was so good at everything she did, that I felt like I had to be just as perfect.
With my younger sister, it was like it was effortless. She put just as much, if not more pressure on herself. but, she could do anything she tried to, with almost no learning curve. I always felt this crazy amount of pressure to be just as good.
My parents, they didn't really help with that. I mean, they were so supportive and I'm so grateful to them, but it was a lot of pressure. The summer between my junior and senior year of college, I wanted to get an internship. Ya know, to get some experience. It would set me up better for getting a job after graduation.
I spent months looking and applying, but nothing was working out. So, I went home for the summer. My mom would come home everyday and ask me if I got a job yet.
I spent nearly every waking hour looking for a job, even just a part time one for the summer. So one day, when we sat down for dinner and she asked if I got a job yet..."
Bucky could feel how tense you were telling this story, but he knew you needed to get it out.
"I told her, 'no, not yet' and she just seemed so disappointed. She asked if I was even applying and I snapped.
I yelled at her, something that had never really happened before. I told her I was trying. I was doing everything I could. She yelled at me for yelling and said it wasn't unreasonable to ask for updates.
I yelled right back. I kept saying I spend all day everyday trying and just when I finally get a break, she walks in and brings it all up again. I was stressed enough without her constant reminders.
I ended up running away from the table, in tears. I hid in the bathroom, there... there was a pair of scissors on the counter and I really thought about killing myself that day."
The tears are pouring out of you at this point. Bucky threw caution to the wind. He picked you up, maneuvering you to sit across his lap and lean your head on his chest. He kept rubbing circles into your back, murmuring words of encouragement.
"My younger sister tried to check on me, but I wouldn't open the door. My mom stomped down the hallway to her bedroom. I was full on having a panic attack in the hallway bathroom. I think I stayed in there for an hour before I went back to the dinner table.
My dad was in the kitchen. He put my plate in the microwave to heat up dinner for me. I ate through near constant tears, it only got worse every time he tried to ask me what happened. Why I snapped like that.
I wanted to apologize to my mom for yelling, so after I ate I went to her room. I knocked, and when she told me to come in I opened the door. I just remember her looking so angry.
I apologized. I told her I was sorry for yelling. She said something about not being unreasonable again. I cried again. When she asked what was wrong, I told her I was scared.
I couldn't put it into words though, so when she asked me 'of what?' I just shrugged. Then, she asked me if I was on my period.
God. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell at her again, To make her understand 'I only wanna die some days. But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?' I decided that day that I would never try to tell anyone how I actually felt."
Bucky holds you as you cry. You're not sure how long it's been when you can finally breathe enough to talk again.
"I just, so many people have bigger problems then me. I grew up in a loving household. I went to college and made friends. I got a job after I graduated. So why am I so sad sometimes? I just wanna scream but what’s the use? At night, I lay awake and I stare at the door, I just can’t take it no more."
Bucky continues comforting you when he speaks again. "Just because other people have problems, doesn't mean yours are irrelevant. You are 100% allowed to feel however you feel, even if it seems like there's no reason for it. Have you ever thought about talking to someone about all of this? I know you just said you haven't told anyone how you actually feel for years, but I think it could help." He smiled nervously when you raised your head to look at him.
"I have actually. I joked about it a lot with my roommate right out of college. I always used to say 'everybody needs therapy' as a joke. Of course, I meant it. Most people probably do need therapy." You laughed, moving your arms around Bucky's neck to hug him. "Thank you for listening to me. I like talking to you."
Of course, Bucky noticed your smile didn't reach your eyes. He was confident in his words when he spoke again. "You can always talk to me. I'll always be there to listen." He followed that with a less confident "What's been bothering you today?"
"Oh, nothing that serious. It's just all pent up inside, ya know?" You smiled again, hiding your face so he couldn't see your lies.
Of course, he could still hear it in your voice. "Y/N, you can tell me. I want to be here for you."
"I... It's just, my insecurities are hurting me." You laughed at yourself. "Here we go with the fucking riddles, again. On the plus side, I think I've cried so much I'm back to one drink Y/N."
"Well, it has been 3 hours since I left to come find you." You were grateful for Bucky's joke, needing something to lift the mood a bit. "But, don't try and change the subject. I still want to know what's got you all sad." His words were light, but you knew how serious he was.
You took a deep breath, burying your head in his neck. "How could somebody ever love me?" You spoke into his shirt, not moving your head back even an inch.
"You know I can't understand you when you talk into my neck like that." Bucky tried joking, but even he knew it would do little to calm your fears.
You moved back, lips still grazing his skin when you repeated yourself, "how could somebody ever love me?"
Bucky wanted to scream. He wanted to tell you how much he loves you. He would gladly spend every day of his life loving you, but he didn't think this was the right time. Not when you just poured your heart out to him. So he settled for the almost truth.
"Anyone would be lucky to love you. You are selfless. You put everyone else first, no matter what. You always make sure everyone has a reason to smile, even when things aren't going right. You tell the best jokes. You're great at cuddling." He squeezes you closer to him, emphasizing the point. "You are beautiful, inside and out. Everyone who comes into contact with you automatically has a better day. You are incredibly strong and independent. I've never met anyone so incredibly good. Even Steve. Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."
His words brought more tears to your eyes, pooling in the corners. "Then how come everyone that I’ve dated says they hate it cause they don’t know what to do with me? I feel broken."
"They were all idiots. You're not broken. Not even a little bit. You're learning how to express your feelings. You just need someone who would take it slow." He pressed a kiss to your forehead, struggling not to tell you everything.
"I wonder if you’d take it slow." Your eyes go wide when that slips out. You hadn't meant to make things uncomfortable. One look at Bucky's face has you freaking out. He looks stunned. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to say that. It just slipped out! Oh god, you've been there for me all night and I go and fuck it up by admitting I'm in love with you."
Your eyes grow even larger. You would move out of his lap, but his arms are still holding you in place. "Shit! Maybe I'm still drunk because apparently I have no filter." You say the last part more to yourself, but he can still hear you.
"Y/N?" Your name comes out of his mouth in a soft whisper.
"Yes?" You cringe internally at messing everything up.
"I would take it slow." He smiles, leaning his forehead against yours while he waits for you to absorb his words.
"Yeah?" You whisper back, a smile ghosting your lips.
"Yeah." You both lean in, exchanging soft, slow kisses and sleepy smiles.
The two of you ended up falling asleep leaning against the back of the couch. The sun streaming through the windows, combined with the noise of the other avengers in the kitchen, wakes you up.
You nudge Bucky, grinning when he pulls you closer.
"C'mon. Let's get some breakfast." He groans again, but eventually stands up.
The two of you walk into the nearly full kitchen, surprising everyone by coming from the lounge rather than the elevators. They share amused expressions, unaware of the emotional hurdles you jumped last night.
You head right for Sam, hugging him tightly before moving on to hug everyone else.
"I just wanted to thank you all. For encouraging me to live a little last night, but also for being there for me." Tears spring to your eyes again, shocking everyone but Bucky. "You're all like a family to me and I'm so glad I have you all to lean on." You made your way back to Bucky, leaning into his side while he poured both of you some cereal.
You smile when you look at him, kissing his cheek before sliding into the stool next to his.
As if broken out of a day dream, Sam sputters out a question. "What the hell did seven drink Y/N do last night?" Thrown off both by your behaviour with Bucky and the short emotional speech.
"Oh, seven drink Y/N is an emotional little bitch. I think I cried eight years of suppressed tears." You laughed, grinning at Bucky when he squeezed your hand. "Also, I think I need a therapist." Your casual admission has Tony spitting out his breakfast.
"What the hell happened last night after you disappeared from the party?" He guffaws, trying to put the pieces together.
"Also, why aren't you even a little bit hungover?" Nat chimed in, upset at missing out on seeing you anything but cheery.
"Well, to answer Nat first, I don't get hungover. Never have, even the one time I blackout out." You shrugged at everyone's slightly jealous expressions. "To answer Tony, I had an emotional breakthrough. Bucky helped me talk through it, something I never thought I'd be able to do. Long story short, i'm going to learn how to share my feelings instead of suppressing them all."
"Suppressing them? What are you talking about? I've literally never felt anything but happiness from you before?" Wanda questioned the new development.
"Well, that's because I'm really good at hiding how I feel. I'd rather not go through it all again, so just watch the security footage from the lounge last night, yeah? I want you all to know, even if it took seven drink Y/N to share it." You quickly finished eating, pulling Bucky to the doorway.
"While you do that, we're going out. Bye!" Before they could question anything else, you ran to the elevator, dragging a very willing Bucky behind you.
"We're going out?" He questioned when the elevator doors shut.
"Yep. Get dressed, I want to see all your favorite places in New York. Even if they're different now. Take me to all your favorite spots." You both smiled, sharing another soft kiss before parting to change for the day.
"Hey," Bucky called, causing you to turn over your shoulder, "I love you."
"I love you too."
745 notes · View notes
Uh.. Hi. Could I request a comfort with Zhongli or Xiao where they saw gn!reader crying because of.. Depression. (Im sorry if its kinda triggering). Thank you.
You are 100% fine and doing your best, anon. You got this 💙
Tw: mentions of depression
Zhongli knew something was wrong the moment he entered their shared home.
They weren't in their usual spot, smiling at him and asking how his day was.
They weren't in the kitchen either, cooking dinner for both.
The ex archon moved from room to room, getting more and more worried as he found nothing.
Until he got to the balcony.
He let out a relieved sigh the moment he saw their figure on the floor, a blanket around them, hiding them completely.
"There you are, my dear" he spoke softly, surprised when they jumped from their spot.
Their eyes met his, and the god felt his heart shater.
The usual spark was missing from there, tears filling them and rolling down their cheeks.
Zhongli was at their side without a word, gently pulling them into a hug.
A hand moved up and down their hair gently as he whispered soft words, only for them to hear.
"Is it one of those days, my love?" The ex archon asked after a few minutes, earning a small nod from them.
"I just... I suddenly felt so useless and that I can't do anything right and..." They answered, their voice cracking at the end.
Zhongli hold them a bit closer, their head now resting against his chest.
"I see... (Y/N), my love, you are the most incredible being I have ever met. You are always helping others, you try your best every day. You are the best thing that has happened to me"
"Whatever those voices are telling you, they are lying. Because you are perfect just the way you are"
"And remember you don't have to fight this alone. I will be always be by your side, my love"
The adeptus stared at the empty spot in front of him, a small frown on his face.
They were late, very late.
Xiao huffed to himself, getting up from his seat.
How dare they be late? After having dinner together for so many weeks, they couldn't just... Not appear.
The adeptus had got used to the mortal's company, now they would have to deal with it.
That's what he thought to himself, at least.
Xiao tried to ignore the worried feeling on his chest as he walked to their room, though it increased with each step.
What if they went out and got hurt? What if they got kidnapped?
The adeptus shaked his head, letting out a sigh as he arrived to their door.
And as he raised his hand to knock on the door, he paused.
Was that... The muffed sound of a cry? Were they crying? Hurt?
"...(Y/N)? Are you there?" He finally asked, hand moving to the doorknob.
The only response he got was the sound of sheets moving.
"...I'm going to come inside now, okay?" The adeptus said, waiting a few second in case they wanted to stop him.
But, getting no response from them, he finally opened the door and went inside.
They were sitting on their bed, their back facing him, a sheet around them.
Xiao analyzed the situation for a small moment, and something finally clicked on his mind.
"Is this... Related to what you told me before? Are you... Not feeling alright today?" He asked carefully, his voice gentle.
They gave him a small nod, and the adeptus sighed internally for a moment.
He... Wasn't the best comforting others. But the mere thought of them just... Suffering alone... He hated it.
The adeptus opted to move to their bed, sitting at their side without a word. An arm moved behing their shoulders, and he gently pulled them close to his side.
"I don't know anything about this but... I know what it feels like to suffer alone"
"You have told me that I shouldn't handle my problems alone. But the same applies to you. Whatever is on your mind right now... You can tell me"
"Just like you are always here for me, I will be always here for you, okay?"
247 notes · View notes
Shang-Chi x Reader | #2
Drabble: “Excuse me, are you trying to tell me what to do? If so, thank god, because I have no idea”
Requested by: @theshyprincess ; I’m so sorry, I know you wanted it to be smutty, but as I kept writing, it just didn’t fit the narrative and I just went with fluffy comfort. You can request another drabble if you’d like, and I’ll make sure to deliver then! Cheers ♥
Summary: You wake up to the day you’ve come to dread more with each passing year, and while you’re in a happy relationship with Shang-Chi, you managed to keep your birth date a secret until today. After noticing your sour mood, Shang-Chi tries to cheer you up.
Warnings/Info: SPOILER ALERT for good measure. | FLUFF, comfort, TW:depression
Tags: @boobearlover2469 @inmybussiness-dontdothat @shawn-chi @whinsical-ash @pinkbay-love @theonefairygodmother @lalasunny @badass-dora-milaje @selenasprompts @gaysoffuturepast @laamaking @rizthenerdypisces @jupitermaximoff @cuteflowers-101 @issbella-mendez9340 @hufflepuffs-and-hozier @astrolisn
You can feel the constant buzzing of your smartphone through your thick pillow, and you squeeze your eyes shut, wishing for the day to just be over before it has even started for you.
Minutes later, as the buzzing still hasn’t come to a stop, you sit up with a loud groan.
With a good yawn, you pull out your phone from under the pillow and your face drops immediately as your eyes scan the sneak peek of all the messages and missed calls on your lock screen.
You’re on the brink of turning off the phone for the day until you see one message standing out. Of course, he didn’t know; you’ve only been dating for four months and you’ve been able to avoid and wave off the question for your birthday so far.
Grinning stupidly like the lovestruck fool you are, you open his usual ‘good morning’ text for a quick reply. At least Shang-Chi would make the day bearable as soon as he gets off from work, you tell yourself.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to get out of bed to shower, and you do your best to ignore the heavy, somber feeling on your chest as you think about your boyfriend instead.
At some point during the day, the soul-crushing feeling of guilt overcomes you, and you force yourself to reply to all the birthday wishes with a quick “thank you”. It’s not their fault you’ve been feeling like this lately, you keep telling yourself, it’s not their fault you feel like you’re stuck with no goals in life.
You’re a photographer, an artist, someone with a vision. Or you used to be at least. Months have passed since you’ve taken your camera outside and enjoyed your hobby. Because that’s what it is, and always will be, a hobby.
“You can’t make a living off of that, that’s just not realistic”
Your chest tightens, and you must sit down to breathe away the anxiety attack trying to sneak up on you.
A glance outside the kitchen window helps as you watch a chubby pigeon groom itself on a tree branch. It’s golden hour, the light coming through the window is beautiful, and you can even feel the warmth of sunshine on your face. You notice that the leaves are withering, changing colors; fall is coming, and the thought of spooky season manages to put a smile on your lips.
Suddenly, you can hear keys rattling in front of your apartment door, and your heart skips a beat.
The thought of him embracing you, holding you close, immediately eases the nasty thoughts in your head, and you basically leap towards the door.
There’s a clank, he dropped the keys.
“Shit”, he hisses, and you snicker with your hand on the handle.
You open the door swiftly, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your gleeful smile is wiped off your face at the sight in front of you.
Shang-Chi looks up at you from his squatting position, grinning up at you with a birthday balloon string between his teeth, holding the keys in one hand, balancing a pile of presents and a cake in his other with a bouquet of your favorite flowers pinned under his arm.
“Sh-uprise”, he mumbles, grinning widely.
Your hand cramps up as you grip the door tightly, and your mind is blank, unable to process what is happening. His eyes widen as he stops grinning, and your stomach drops more at the visual panic on his face.
“I – I can’t”
You turn on your heels and rush to your bedroom. Shang-Chi follows quickly, and kicks the door shut behind him. The balloon bounces up against the ceiling as he lets go of it, and you hope it’d just pop.
“Baby? What’s wrong?”, he asks as he approaches you sitting on the edge of your bed.
You’ve covered your face with your hands, overwhelmed and embarrassed of your reaction.
“You should take it back”, you mutter through your fingers. “the balloon, the cake, the flowers, whatever is in the present, everything”
Shang-Chi shuffles his feet and ponders for a moment.
“Excuse me, are you trying to tell me what to do? If so, thank god, because I have no idea”, he says, chuckling softly before crouching down in front of you. He touches your knee and grasps your wrists before gently pulling away your hands from your face.
You’re sniffling away tears but smiling at his goofiness.
“There she is”
You look at him eventually, and the loving, empathetic look in his eyes makes your heart jump again.
“How’d you find out?
“Well, first I hired a private detective, and then I made a few calls, the president and I are like bffs –“
“Smartass”, you scoff and roll your eyes, and Shang-Chi grins again.
“I asked your mom”, he answers and sits down next to you. “it might be surprising to you, but it’s actually not that hard to find out someone’s birthday”
“Of course you did”, you mumble, grubbing your hands together as you stare at the floor.
“However, it’s pretty hard to figure out why someone despises their birthday so much” He nudges your shoulder with his and you can feel his eyes on you. “care to tell me now, babe?”
Tears well up in your eyes again and you lean your head back to keep them from falling. The feeling of guilt and insecurity weighs hard on your shoulder with an insightful boyfriend like Shang-Chi sitting next to you.
“I don’t like to talk about it, but –“
“Then don’t. We don’t need to talk about it now, baby”
Shang-Chi wraps one arm around your shoulder and pulls you in for a hug. “It just felt right to me to try and make your special day…well, special. I’m sorry if I overwhelmed you”
He kisses your temple, rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel like crying again.
“I’m sorry I’m being so childish. I should’ve told you why this day is so triggering to me”
Shang-Chi hugs you closer and gently starts rocking you as you cling to his shirt. You can hear his calm heartbeat and you bury your face into his chest while he strokes your arm.
“I should’ve made you feel more comfortable then, but I hope you know that you can tell me anything”
You nod against his chest. Not only do you know that you can tell him anything, you also know he’s the one.
164 notes · View notes
The Following HC has Huge Spoilers for like Lesson 35 Onward and Also Some Pretty Heavy Themes. Readers Discretion Advised.
If the MC had Sacrificed Themselves
You know, it could have happened. So what if it did?
Warnings: Suicide, Depression, Despondency, Death, Heavy Angst
His memories returned to him right as their body hit the floor… All at once, he remembered who he was and who they were and just how much they meant to him...
Only for him to see them lying there with a dagger through their chest.
For once in his life, Lucifer felt nothing but helpless. He was so confused, and now the MC was on the ground bleeding out in front of him, unmoving. As he found his way down to their body, all he could do was yell for someone to come help them… What was even happening??
He knew better than to try and pull the dagger out, but even glancing at it would send a sharp pain through his own chest… The thought occurred to him that the stab should have been meant for him, but... why? Had he stabbed them??
Did they stab themselves…?
His brother bombarded him with questions as they stormed in, but he didn't have any answers for them. He was just as lost as they were... If the MC had stabbed themselves, then why? Why would they ever do that?!
Lucifer was still reeling as Mammon ripped the MC from his arms. He was too stunned to try and stop him as his mind finally began to put together the fragmented memories of his past few days...
Diavolo and Solomon did this. Diavolo signed off on finding that dagger, and Solomon must have given it to them in the first place! And with the MC's part in the Ring... Together they must have put an impossible burden on them… and he wasn't even allowed to know about it!
That realization opened a new sort of rage in Lucifer...
After forcing his brothers to calm down, he locked himself up in his study. No matter what he tried, Diavolo couldn't get a hold of him at all... Lucifer refused to even let him explain because what sort of explanation could he give? An apology?? He'd never be able to apologize for something this unforgivable.
Any communication done between the Demon Prince and his former friend before the MC's funeral was done through the brothers (the few who could pull themselves together enough to do so). Lucifer wouldn't even stomach Barb's presence...
As for Solomon… The sorcerer knew better than to stay in the Devildom any longer than the funeral. Lucifer didn't even have to voice his displeasure at the event; one look was all he needed to send the human packing.
Lucifer was barely seen by anyone until the day of the funeral, and he barely held himself together... No matter his feelings, he was still too proud to cry… not in front of the others... His brothers never saw a tear out of him there or anywhere...
Afterward, his working life seemingly went back to normal. He was still honor-bound to Diavolo after all, but he never warmed to the Demon Prince again. It didn't matter what he tried, if he couldn't have the love of his life back, then Diavolo couldn't have his only friend anymore... As simple as that.
And then it was almost like the MC was never there to begin with… He almost completely reverted back to his former self, but somehow even more harsh and distant to his brothers than ever before… He refused to be looked after or pitied, even if on the inside, he was falling apart...
However, even at his coldest, almost every night, his brothers could hear the piano playing from the music room… the slight hesitation between notes being the only hints of Lucifer's quiet sobs in the darkness...
He was the first to run into their bedroom after hearing Lucifer shout, and he pretty much elbowed his brother out of the way to grab the MC's body himself… He was cradling them so close that his shirt got soaked in their blood…
The hell just happened?? He saw the MC that morning, and they were fine!! Why were they hurt now?!
When Satan finally declared that he couldn't do any more for them, Mammon could've snapped his neck. There wasn't "anything more" he could do?? Nothing at all!?
Of course, there had to be something he could do!! Literally anything!!! He could save them!! Didn't he know who this was?! This was his MC! His human!!! They weren't supposed to die like this!!
When Asmo tried to move the body, Beel, Satan, and Levi all had to pull Mammon off while he kicked and bit at them ferociously. Even with all their demon forms' combined power, they couldn't hold him back for very long and Lucifer had to intervene to stop him from attacking Asmo outright...
While Lucifer was holding him back, Mammon turned his rage against his own brother. He was in the room! Why hadn't he done anything?! What even happened?!?
Even after Lucifer explained that the MC must have done it to themselves, Mammon was still so disgusted that he flew out of their bedroom window altogether. How could his "big strong" older brother let something like that happen to them? How were all of his brothers so okay with giving up on them so easily!?
He flew up to the House's roof and took his anger out against the tiles. He could have run, but still, he hung close to the House anyway because that was where MC was... Dead or not, he'd never leave them all alone like that...
Before Lucifer locked himself away, he went up to Mammon to try and coax him back inside… Each time he tried to explain what had happened, he was met with anger - then denial... and finally just sadness… The two held each other on the rooftop as Mammon tried to process his loss… and cried… much like how they'd done after their fall centuries ago…
Mammon insisted on being a pallbearer for the MC and speaking personally at the funeral. He was their first pact, their first man, so he thought he should have that honor. He wanted to be the one closest to them, even after death... And he took on both tasks with a commitment he rarely gives anything he isn't paid for...
By the time the funeral happened, he had burnt out most of his anger... He didn't exactly have much to say to Diavolo or Solomon because of it. Though he wasn't happy to see them at all, given their part in this, he was just so spent already, and he didn't want to get sidetracked… Not in front of MC…
He mourned them even long after they were placed in the family crypt. He never truly got over their death, really…
He buried himself in gambling for a time, but his jackpots never felt as satisfying as they used to… He felt the same with anything he'd try to buy... After a while, he just… stopped trying to fill the void with things entirely…
Expensive items weren't going to bring the MC back to him...
He eventually developed a habit of stealing whatever reminded of the MC… The stuff he thought they'd like and whatnot... Sometimes he wouldn't even notice; he'd just come home with things in his pockets that he never remembered grabbing.
At times, Beel finds him down in the crypt hiding those "gifts" behind false bricks, but he never says anything about it… Though he'd prefer Mammon stop stealing, he knows this is his brother's way of remembering what the MC enjoyed… so he lets him do what he needs to.
Levi was the second to last to get into the room, just before Belphie, and he honestly didn't know what he saw at first… It was like his eyes were on the MC, and they saw all of the blood in the room, but his brain simply refused to believe it…
It had to be a dream, right? A nightmare? A truly hellish nightmare?? His Henry couldn't be gone… could they…? Not like this...
He was only snapped back into reality by Mammon's snarling when Asmo tried taking the MC's body. He had never seen his brother so wild before; his body moved to help restrain him on its own just to keep him from hurting Asmo.
His mind, on the other hand, was still too numb to process what was really happening…
Of all of the brothers, Levi had the hardest time accepting what had occurred. Hell, it was like he couldn't even face it… There was something in him actively trying to blank out anything to do with the MC's death…
For a few days, all he could do was sit in his room numbly and watch Henry swim… He'd try to talk to him occasionally, but the words would dry up in his throat. He just… He didn't know what to say anymore… Asmo had to eventually remind him that there was a funeral at all. He must have blocked that out too…
When at the funeral itself, he remained oddly calm… but he didn't speak to anyone. He didn't look at anyone. He never said a word… Not even to Diavolo or Solomon, he just went where he was told and waited for things to be over…
It wasn't until about a week afterward that the paralyzing fog that he found himself in finally lifted...
It was their marathon night. It felt like he had been waiting for weeks when it was finally time for the MC to come to his door. He waited for their knock…
And then he realized they weren't coming...
And like that, the dam in the back of his mind finally broke and all of the pain he had been hiding from struck him at once. The gut-wrenching cry that left his lips was so powerful that it nearly shattered his aquarium walls and flooded his room with water...
When his brothers ran to check on him, all they found was Levi curled up in his bathtub sobbing hysterically... It took him so long to stop that they had to take turns bringing him water just to keep him from suffering dehydration...
The brothers don't really know how Levi's doing any more… Beel and Asmo go to check on him sometimes, but the room is always dark... save the light of a screen or two. He never wants to talk to them anyway…
They let him know that they're there for him, but… he's long past leaving his room anymore...
Satan knew the situation was bad when he ran into the MC's room and saw Lucifer… His calm and composed older brother was trembling and shouting, just begging for MC to move…
And then he saw the dagger.
Whatever confusion and rage he felt in that second had to be quickly pushed aside because the MC was his only concern. As the only one in the room with any human medical knowledge, he had to keep a clear head now more than ever.
While his brothers fell apart around him, Satan did the best he could to process what was wrong and how he could help…
He was quick, he used spells to close up their wound and even CPR to try and get their heart beating again... Truthfully, had the MC been alive when he got there, they would have surely survived. But as they were…?
They were already cold beneath his fingertips… Far colder than they should have been… He would later come to find out that their soul had been severed by the dagger, so no matter what he tried, he would have never saved them… They were… gone.
He had to defend himself from Mammon when he finally declared his efforts were in vain. His brother spat at him, but he wasn't afraid to fire back. Did he really think he was the only one hurting here? The MC had been important to all of them!
He had to help the others hold Mammon back, and only after he was under some kind of control did Satan let himself leave the room. He could feel a rampage coming on… but he wouldn't dare leave the MC's bedroom trashed and broken by his own hand...
That made the rest of the House fair game, though. What he ended up doing to the library alone was catastrophic, and the damage to the kitchen nearly set the whole place ablaze… For once, he had a hard time being sorry for it. He was too enraged to care...
He was right alongside Asmo when arguing that the MC deserved more than a standard human funeral. In fact, it was his idea to send a body double of them to the human world so they could keep the real body for themselves. No one was willing to let them go, so Diavolo had eventually had to relent...
Satan was the most openly hostile at the funeral. Any time Diavolo or Solomon took a step too close to their body, he'd snarl at them like a wild animal. As far as he was concerned, they didn't even deserve to be there for their part in it all this. If Diavolo weren't the Prince, he would have forced them out himself, power disparity be damned.
After their death, he did his own research on the dagger to see if there was any way for him to bring them back, but it was just as he feared… Their soul had been effectively torn from their body and sealed within the blade itself, as it does to the demons it slays...
As much as he hated to admit it, they were genuinely, truly gone now. Dead...
His emotional control tanked considerably without the MC around from then on… It was either feel the Wrath that used to consume him or wallow in the pain of their loss... And he just didn't know how to feel anymore now that he was all on his own…
His brothers left Satan alone for the most part; even Beel and Asmo approached him very carefully… He was just too violent and volatile to accept their help for the longest time… And they weren't his MC.
No one was...
Asmo quickly became the most hysterical one in the room when he first found them. He pushed his way in right next to Mammon, clasping the MC's cold hands and wailing for help...
But after looking into their eyes? Deep down? Even he knew no one probably could...
Back behind him, all he could hear from Lucifer was him trying to gather his thoughts while Satan worked to save them. Through his brother's murmuring, he slowly began to piece together what must have happened… Had they sacrificed themselves…?
But.. Why? Why did they do it…? Why did they think they had to?? Asmo was willing to sever their pact; he was willing to do his part!! Why did he have to lose them instead?!
After Satan declared that they'd gone and it was hopeless, Asmo was the first to beg Lucifer for answers: What happened? Did they do this?? Why didn't you stop them?!
It shattered him to have his suspicions confirmed… The MC sacrificed themselves to save Lucifer and the world at large… They were always too kind for their own good… Too giving to him and his brothers… how had none of them seen this coming…?
Asmo was put in charge of the body before they could even get Mammon away from it, and it was a fight to get him to let go even just a little. Asmo had to use all of his concentration just to dodge his brother's frenzied strikes… He didn't hold it against him. He understood. Mammon had been closer to them than anyone in a way…
He took it upon himself to clean them and prepare them for the funeral... He had to fight with Diavolo himself to have one held in the Devildom and not the human world. As much as he respected the MC's life away from them, they needed them here… No one was handling their death well…
With a combination of spells and all of his makeup talents, he was able to make them look just as stunning as they had been in life... Though every glance at their still form felt like a rock sinking further into his gut, it only seemed... fitting… for him to give them one last makeover...
He forced himself not to cry in front of them as best he could. He tried to smile, tried to talk to them as if they could still hear... He even gave them assurances as if they were scared... A funeral is just like a party if you think about it, and they'd get to be the center of attention. He promised to make them look their best…
Asmo wept the most openly at the funeral, but he didn't turn any of his anger onto Diavolo or Solomon… Diavolo looked just as broken up as the rest of them, maybe even more because the blame was on his shoulders… Meanwhile, even the fairly unreadable Solomon was trying his best not to show any tears…
Though a part of him was still very bitter, he knew the MC wouldn't want them to fight each other anyway… Especially not there...
After the funeral, all the strength he used to keep himself together just caved… He cried every night for weeks and slowly began to lose his drive to keep up appearances...
One month after their death, and his hair was a mess, his eyes were always puffy, and his cheeks seemed to be permanently flushed from tears… Even his enchanting allure radiated nothing but sorrow… He was, quite simply, a wreck...
He visited them down in the crypts often, usually keeping Beel company. By talking to Beel, sharing his memories of the MC, and processing his sadness with his brother, he eventually eased out of his mourning… Though he wasn't exactly "better," he started to move on...
He was the first to recover (as much as any of them could), and he tried his best to help his brothers when able, but not all of them were as lucky…
Asmo never stopped visiting the MC's tomb, though. He'd always bring fresh flowers with him and never stopped talking to them either, even if they weren't listening. He'd liked to believe some part of them were still there and happy to not be left out…
They mattered to him just as much in death as they had in life, and he's never let them forget it...
Beel was a big guy. He's strong, tough, and even at his birth rank, he can overpower most of his siblings through raw physical prowess alone. All of that is to say that he has an awful lot going for him...
… but in those short minutes of watching the MC bleed out on the floor, he had never once felt so powerless…
When Lilith was struck, he was at least able to save Belphie… He was able to do something. But here…? He was so out of his depth that all he could do was stare...
He'd once sworn to himself that he would guard them, that he would keep them safe and make sure that he'd never have to see them in pain, but there they were… Dead before he was even in the room...
Since Mammon and Asmo were hysterical and Lucifer just… wasn't acting right, he tried to stay as calm as he could… But not even he could fight the tears in his eyes...
He had failed again. First with Lilith, now with MC… It didn't even matter to him that Lucifer said they did it to themselves. If he had been there, he would have stopped them! If he had been there, he would have pulled the dagger right out of their hands! If he had been there, he…!
Well... What did it matter, anyway…? He wasn't there at all…
When it came time to take the MC's body away, he was the first to try and pull Mammon away, but even he forgets how strong his brother can be. With everyone's help, Asmo was able to do what he needed to, but Beel wished he could have held the MC like that too...
Some part of him, at that moment, decided that if he wasn't able to protect them in life, the least he could do was guard them in death… Their body, their possessions, even their memory… All of it. He would keep them "alive," and with his family, if it was all he'd ever do…
Beel was probably the most somber at the funeral… He didn't say much, but it's not like he often does. He mostly just stuck close to Belphie to be sure his twin didn't try anything while they were there...
He was willing to forgive Diavolo sooner than the rest of his brothers because even he saw that the Demon Prince never thought it would come to this… He was less kind to Solomon, though, because he gave them the dagger to start with... At least, unlike Satan, he didn't show his disgust so bluntly.
After the funeral, Beel quietly kept his word. He would regularly go into their old room and make sure it was clean. He'd fix things so it'd look otherwise untouched. He kept track of every item and kept anything else from going in or coming out...
If he wasn't there, then he would stand guard over their coffin, quietly watching his brothers' come and go while keeping his human safe in the only way he could…
Anyone who came by would often end up talking to Beel, just because he was there and always listening, and he'd try his best to help… The MC had been so much better at supporting his family through their problems, but he did what he could do...
He found it comforting in a way… Like he was passing on what the MC had taught them and reminding them not to forget their lessons…
He'd make sure no one would forget them… no one…
Belphie was the last in the room because he had been napping in the attic at the time. When he came in and saw all his brothers huddled together, he didn't know what he expected to see…
But it certainly wasn't the MC on the floor...
Naturally, fear was the first thing to hit him, but it quickly turned to anger. Who had done this?? Who hurt them?! Where were they!?!
He shouted as much over his brothers' mourning, but it was the guilt-ridden look on Beel's face that told him all he needed to know… No one had hurt them… but themselves...
Belphie's thoughts were a whirlwind, but he knew he couldn't stay there. Not in that room, with their body and all his brothers, so he ran back up to the attic and slammed the door shut before losing his mind...
The wailing and the carnage Belphie caused up there could have put Satan to shame… He was just so ungodly pissed off at everything and everyone!! Diavolo for putting so much pressure on them, Solomon for letting them have the dagger, his brother for not saving them, the MC for doing what they did, and even himself! He…! He was mad... at himself…
He was mad that he hadn't said goodnight to them that day… He was mad that he hadn't hugged them that morning… He was mad that he hadn't asked them how their day was or how they felt about that terrible movie they saw once or why they always felt like they had to take on everybody else's problems all the time…!!
He was mad that he didn't know this was their last day to be together…
The attic room was completely trashed by the time Belphie had finally finished letting his anger out, and it ended with him kneeling in the middle of the floor, hugging his torn pillow and sobbing while the feathers clung to him like snow…
He spent much of the next few days shifting from irritation to despondency… Beel was about the only person he would talk to, so he would have to come in and make sure he had meals or something to drink between his never-ending naps…
He almost didn't go to the funeral because he couldn't get himself up for it… Beel had to dress him then carry him there, and even when he was awake, he was too busy glaring at Diavolo and Solomon to even mourn...
He mostly cried at night… When everybody else was either asleep or doing the same in their own way…
Some days he would be awake enough to help Beel clean the MC's things, and those days seemed to help him the most… Being in places that reminded him of them gave him better dreams at night, and if he was lucky, he could convince Beel to let him sleep in their bed for a time…
Beel and Asmo worked on talking to Belphie the most out of the other brothers, partially because Beel could get him talking the easiest, but progress was hard-fought all the same…
In many ways, Belphie just considered life without the MC not even worth being awake for...
1K notes · View notes
I long to die, that I might put an end once and for all, to this misery and disappointment and sorrow. It really seems as if my happiness had disappeared with the fine weather.
Juliette Drouet, from a letter to Victor Hugo, written on 1833
183 notes · View notes
I was wondering I read the Xiao x a sucidal reader and I was wondering if you could do a imagine for that if this is too much please don’t and stay safe drink water and eat and please enjoy your day ^^
Lantern Rite Wishes
xiao x (gender neutral) reader
cw: suicide, depression, angst
note - somehow the imagine became longer than intended (・・；)
He was just going to get some fresh air and then he’d come right back inside. There was absolutely no way he was looking for you because it was a beautiful night and the lanterns lit up the sky like pieces of sweet, wondrous dreams—
Xiao shakes his head to dispel such thoughts as he steps out into the open, surveying just how empty Wangshu Inn has become. Everyone who isn’t obligated to work is down at the festival, spending time with friends or taking in the sights as a couple. He was going to watch from the balcony, where he’d be alone and unbothered by the usual hustle and bustle of Wangshu. All those plans seemingly evaporate the moment he notices your figure balancing on the ledge, one foot extended outwards.
He’s not sure what overcomes him when he rushes forward, seizing your arm and roughly pulling you backwards. A yelp escapes your dry throat. Just moments prior you were teetering on the edge, teary-eyed and wondering if anyone would miss you. Now you’re falling into someone’s chest as they wrap their arms around your trembling frame in a bone-crushing hug. Your stomach drops when you finally hit the floor, the wooden boards creaking under the combined weight of two people.
For a moment, you struggle to escape Xiao’s hold, but he remains unyielding. It’s during your hiccuping sobs that you finally hear him.
It’s the only word Xiao can utter. Over and over in a confused, pained loop. The thought of watching you fall to your death hurts him, and even though he can’t fully grasp the reasoning behind that feeling he knows it must be a result of your suicide attempt.
“I...don’t know.” Words weigh heavy in your mouth, and your tongue trips over itself in an attempt to explain yourself. But you truly can’t. Why did you do that just now? Were you actually going to jump? “I’m just tired.”
Tired. A word that holds so much meaning. Tired of work. Tired of mundane schedules. Tired of the disconnection between positivity and depression. Tired of life. It’s all so exhausting and the only solution would be to die. That must be it, right?
“You don’t know?” Xiao’s still holding onto you when he mutters that question, his expression clouded in grief and anger. “Why not? You’re a mortal! You should value your life a little because you won’t get another.”
The harshness to his tone startles you and it prompts more tears. Under the lights of thousands of lanterns, the scene should bring happiness and peace. But you’re just sad and tired and absolutely fed up with life.
“I’m sorry, Xiao. I didn’t—“
“Don’t apologize.” His grip loosens slightly and it’s as if his own composure follows. “Just...don’t do it again. If you’re not going to value your life, I’ll value it instead. So don’t do stupid things you’ll regret.”
It wounds your resolve to hear him refer to impulsive desires as stupid and foolish, but it also warms your heart to hear him say he’ll value your life. And you can’t bring yourself to argue. Had you jumped and avoided his outstretched arm, you wouldn’t have had any time to regret the action. Would Xiao have saved you even as you were falling? You’d like to think he would, but even miraculous fantasies remain within one’s mind. And in this reality a dozen alternate scenarios could’ve happened. For instance, Xiao could’ve avoided the balcony and you would be dead.
Your fingers dig into his backside as you finally return his hug. “I’m just tired. I didn’t know what else to do...” A heavy sigh escapes you in that tense moment. “I wish I didn’t feel so lost.”
Xiao realizes he’s been holding you for quite some time and he pulls away in a barely composed fluster, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. In an effort to change the direction of the conversation, he latches onto the thought of wishes. “Well... I was going to watch the lanterns from here, but then I saw you. I guess we could go see the festival together—if it’ll cheer you up, that is.”
You look at him in mild shock, not having expected him to take the initiative to invite you. “Oh...”
“But you’re probably still scared after what just happened. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Mortals and fear...”
Your breathy laugh startles him. He’s always referring to you as a mortal, as if that’s all you are in his eyes. Although you’re still shaken after your attempt, you feel a little safer knowing he’s with you. And while you may just be another mortal, the fact that he saved you must count for something. Xiao can go on and on about how useless mortals are, but to step in when one was about to commit suicide—perhaps he does have a heart.
“I should thank you for doing that. For stopping me before I could actually do it, I mean.” Your heart hammers in your chest as you prepare to spill your emotional guts in front of the adeptus. “Truthfully, I haven’t been well in a long while. And I don’t think I’ll get better anytime soon, but...I want to forget about tonight. So maybe seeing the festival with you will chase a few bad thoughts away...”
Xiao’s staring. He realizes he should blink and actually say something, but the words won’t form. You’ve always been an honest person, but he’s taken by surprise at how quickly you agree to see the festival. It’s an ideal distraction, isn’t it? All sorts of negativity muddles his brain and he wonders why you’d want to see the festival with him. He’s not exactly a cheery person and you’re not mentally well either. For some reason, he feels compelled to weasel out of this situation—to deflect and avoid it before he freely allows himself to experience this pathetic thing humans call ‘fun.’
“Actually, I think making a lantern would be nice. I could write so many wishes on it. It might even make me feel better, too!” You’d like to think that a simple lantern wish will solve all of the murky depression in your life, but it’s just wishful thinking. “And you can make one with me! We’ll write our own wishes.”
“Come on. It’ll be fun.” You stand on unsteady legs—legs that would’ve broke once they made contact with the ground—and offer your hand. “You can’t get out of this one, Xiao. I’m going to drag you there whether you like it or not.”
He deadpans as he begins to regret his own decisions. But his hand still finds yours and he allows you to pull him up from the floor. Your smile might not shine as brightly as it did before, but it’s still a step in the right direction. And you’re a resilient person; you’re bound to bounce back after this. It just takes time and patience to heal—two things he can easily spare for your sake.
Xiao won’t make any wishes for himself. Rather than selfishly wishing to erase centuries of karmic debt, he’ll scrawl something unlikely on the surface of his lantern. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he’d let you fall, and so he hopes that his wish will come true.
And when your lanterns join the others in the inky sky, Xiao feels relieved to have you by his side, your warm hand gripping his and an infectious smile pulling your lips upward. Your life has so much meaning. It’s just a little foggy and you can’t see it, but Xiao will shine a light through that dark fog to help you reclaim that meaning. In due time, you will find happiness and he’ll be there to guide you to it on a bumpy path.
Without realizing it, his love for you blossoms and it’s a quiet flower shrouded in its own darkness.
No matter what happens, give (Name) the happiness they deserve. That’s all I’ll wish for.
692 notes · View notes
When you Wish Upon a Star
Pairing: Karlnapity x Reader
Request: Can you maybe write some poly karlnapity x reader fluff with a bit of angst?
Word count: 1.7k
Warning: memory loss, angst, cursing, loss/relationship strain, depression (?)
A/n: haha memory issues go brrrrrr. Sorry if it's bad, i wanted angst but didn't know how-
Your world was slowly becoming a monochrome film. So meaningless and alien to what your life once was. All color and life had left and all that remained was an empty shell of what once was. Your boys were no longer sticking together, acting like the loving couple that they are. Or were. You couldn’t tell what the status of y’all relationship was. It felt like everything was falling apart. Nobody was communicating with each other and they weren’t coming home sometimes, going missing for days on end with no contact.
Now sometimes business could be rough and long, so that wasn’t an abnormal thing. No, the issue was how increasingly common this “uncommon” occurrence was. Anxiety boiled in your chest with every night that passed without your lovers. Cuddling with just one wasn’t the same as with them all. You just wished everything would return to its original state; all four of your being a giddy and affectionate couple. Back to that honeymoon stage.
Everything was becoming so different, much less vibrant. Like a depression had fallen onto y’alls happily-ever-after. You only had Sapnap for comfort, and vice versa. There was no Quackity to rely on or Karl to giggle all the worries all away. And it was painfully obvious how it was affecting everybody, yet nobody did anything to fix it.
Quackity never came to y’all for comfort. He was always at his damn casino or scheming a way to end Techno’s anarchy. Slowly he just stopped talking to y’all like he loved you. Now you and Sapnap were like a war council, but even then he wouldn’t listen to y’all advice. He’d just rant to y’all about how much he despised Techno and wanted to kill him, destroy the damn god complex the man had.
But Quackity was blind to himself; he was on a high horse and saw himself as a worthy opponent, somebody who could subdue such a savage beast. Every time Quackity came home bloody and on the brink of death, it killed you on the inside. Why wasn’t he coming to y’all about the issues? Why did he think he was so alone in his endeavor?
And you didn’t even want to mention Karl’s condition. He was acting so odd now. More forgetful and aloof. It was like he was a complete stranger now. Your interactions were slowly becoming shorter and shorter, less meaningful and shallow. From meaningful, deep and loving talk during cuddle sessions to a curt, cold and disconnected. Sapnap even tried to get information out of him, but he stayed closed and guarded like a clam. Then he’d also come home with some injuries, but there was never an explanation for why he got hurt. Quackity at least admitted to what happened, so you knew what possible dangers he was facing. But Karl? He was an absolute mystery now.
Karl wasn’t the type of person to be so mysterious. Well, cold and mysterious that is. Definitely a mystery though, but so charismatic that you could easily push that fact aside. He used to be so cute and “unsuspecting”. Now that’s the same case, but subtract the “cute and unsuspecting” part. His newfound apathy worried you to no end. It was like he was completely detached from reality.
It was such a silly thing, but you wished for the stars, asking them to help you. Please, you needed your boys back. You didn’t know how much longer you could keep living through this cycle.
Quackity’s hyper-independence and Karl’s now apathetic attitude was disheartening. And the effect it had on Sapnap was heartbreaking. He kept blaming himself for the relationship for falling apart. You reassured him that it wasn’t his fault, but you were hypocritical. Telling someone that it wasn’t their fault that a relationship was failing yet blaming oneself for the same thing? Honestly it wasn’t just one singular person’s fault; everyone was to blame. Nobody was communicating, which harmed the relationship you once thrived in.
So you begged the stars for guidance, for a chance at mending your dying relationship. There wasn’t a way you could live without your lovers.
You should’ve been more careful for what you wished for.
Sapnap commed you one day, which wasn’t abnormal by any means. You two talked throughout the day multiple times. That was the only consistent thing that was still steady. A constant in your ever changing lives. But when you got on call with him, he sounded different, desperate and panicked. Your anxiety started to peak when he spoke, but the subject of the call made time stop. No way- there was no way.
You fucking chunked whatever the hell you were holding or doing out of your hands. It was way less important now. Honestly you can’t even remember what you were doing. All you knew was that you had to get to them and swiftly. No time could be wasted. Sapnap needed you right now. Your boys needed you. Everything was on the line. Well, for you it felt like that. Your boys were your everything; if one more “unfortunate” accident occurred to them, you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself. You were absolutely failing at protecting them. They protected and loved you for so long, and you wanted to protect them now.
Sapnap had begged, nearly demanding you come to Karl’s library that instant. Karl had apparently appeared there, and he wasn’t looking so good. He said he also contacted Quackity so he should be there too, but who knows if he’ll actually be there.
When the library came into sight, your anxiety both increased yet decreased, allowing joy to grow alongside it. The combination was odd, one that sounds like it shouldn’t be put together. Yet that’s exactly what you felt; bitterness and cold with some warmth hidden beneath the surface like a sun chasing the night way at dawn. You bolted into the building, frantically sweeping the immediate area for Sapnap and Karl. No sign of them. Your panic grew exponentially. Where were they? You yelled out, hoping to hear any sign of them.
Some commotion was made from your left. Walking closer to it, you caught sight of Sapnap’s shoes. He peaked around the corner to check the new visitor, and almost ran to you. The moment he stood, he hesitated. He took a step forward and stopped, looking between you and where you presumed Karl was. Ultimately he just took a few more steps toward you before turning back to Karl. When you arrived at Sapnap’s side, you dropped to your knees alongside him. There one of your worst fears faced you.
Karl lay on the ground, unconscious and bloody. He was so pale, it scared you. How long was he like this? What happened to him? Would he make it? You didn’t want to know the answer to it. Specifically, you didn’t want to know in case he wasn’t going to make it. Seeing him like this, it’d hurt too much to know the reality. You just wanted your old picture-perfect life back. Yes, it wasn’t absolutely perfect, but it was perfect for you and your boys.
So much time must’ve passed with you and Sapnap just watching Karl, tending to the wounds he had. It was fortunate that only his head showed clear signs of damage. Yet that was also a very unfortunate thing. There could be so much potential damage done and you’d never know if he was or wasn’t okay unless something happened to him.
You were so focused on Karl that you hadn’t realized that Quackity had joined y’all until he gently laid his hand on your shoulder, which shocked you out of your trance. Quackity’s eyes and face were red and puffy, tears trailed down his face and he was out of breath and panting. But he was here. You jumped up to hug him, pulling him down to the ground with you, Sapnap and Karl. Sapnap joined in the hug without a word. A sniffle left Sapnap, but you never mentioned it. This was a very stressful situation.
After a short period of pseudo peace, the exhaustion finally started to take ahold of y’all with the adrenaline slowly leaving your systems. Talking it out for a bit, after seeing how visibly tired everyone was, it was decided that y’all would watch over him in shifts. There was a small squabble for who’d be first; each of you wanted to be first to sate your guilt. It wasn’t long until a victor was declared; Quackity would take the first shift. Then Sapnap and finally you. The plan fucking pissed you off so much and there wasn’t a reason for it to. It just did, and you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. But you didn’t question it. If conflict could be avoided, then it’d be best to go along with the plan.
One moment you were blinking, trying to fight off sleep and the next Quackity was shaking you awake. You were so groggy and barely heard what he said. It must’ve been so obvious to Quackity that you just weren’t hearing jack shit, but he kept repeating- something. You actually had no clue if he was repeating something or just babbling. All you heard was noise and his mouth was moving. What could be so important that he was just fucking shaking you like a damn earthquake- oH SHIT!
Without a second thought, you jump to your feet and flop just a bit closer to Karl. You got up too quickly but you made it to your goal, kinda, so score! Scrambling to your feet, more accurately your knees, you view the situation.
All you could see was Karl sitting up and talking to Sapnap. That’s all that mattered though- he was alright. Karl was alive and thriving- okay that was debatable- but still! Your Karl was okay!
You’re on your feet in a flash once again, flinging yourself into Karl’s arms. The relief that washed over you was immense. Cleansing you of all your anxieties.
Yet he didn’t hug you back. Matter of fact, he did nothing at all. He froze up. Though it went unnoticed by you. Salty tears dripped down your face and splattered onto his jacket. Quackity joined in on your group hug, cry and babbling his apologies along the way.
Suddenly you and Quakity are shoved away, landing into Sapnap’s waiting arms. Saying you were shocked would be an understatement. Confused also couldn’t, yet they were the first words your frazzled mind could conjure.
“Who are you all?”
462 notes · View notes
Jason: Hey, Old Man, what if I told you I could solve Timmy's little sleeping problem for good?
Bruce [sipping his tea]: I would have you tried for witchcraft, son.
Jason: Okay, let me rephrase that. I can TOTALLY cure Timber's insomnia.
Jason: But what would you give me to make that happen?
Bruce: I'd need to see results, first.
Jason: Fair enough. Let's say...1 million dollars?
Bruce: If it works.
Jason [cupping his hands around his mouth]: Yo Timberlake!
Tim [poking his head into the kitchen]: I thought I told you I was done answering to that.
Jason: And yet, here we are.
Tim [narrowing his eyes]: ...
Jason [crossing his arms]: I just had a quick idea to run past you.
Tim [suddenly interested]: Oh?
Jason: Yeah. See, Old Man Sunshine here was just getting on my case about my sleeping habits. He says I 'Sleep Too Much', and it's 'Not Healthy'.
Jason: *I* say I sleep the perfect amount, cause as long as I'm unconscious, I don't gotta deal with the crushing weight of existence and my own racing thoughts of existentialism and the futility of day-to-day life. Sleep, for me, is like a Netflix subscription, but for death. I can binge as long as I want, without the commitment of ownership.
Dick [standing in the corner pouring an overflowing cup of coffee]: ...holy S**T, man.
Jason: So I guess my question is--who's really in the right on this one?
Tim: *walks out of the room thoughtfully*
Bruce [softly]: Jaylad, are you doing alright?
Jason [smirking]: You need my Venmo?
2K notes · View notes
@tohruuhondaa II Continued from here
He felt sick from all the things he couldn't say. No, he wasn't all right. He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry, to claw at himself until he felt some semblance of okay. But he--
When he looked at her, his courage faltered.
He remembered standing at her Mother's grave, finding out that her Father was dead too and yet she was still smiling through that pain.
He felt guilty for not being able to do the same.
Would she miss him if something happened to him? Would she be all right? He worried, but he was just...so tired.
Taking a soft breath, his hands shook in hers from the surge of emotions in his chest. She has Kyo. He'll take care of her.
"I...I'll be fine," he lied, forcing a smile. Always always fine. That's right.
222 notes · View notes