Tumgik
#CW SELFHARM
shrimpricebowl · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
art dump II
+
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ah!!! oc jumpscare!!! i should post them more....maybe
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(they have been collecting dust for months)
120 notes · View notes
awkwardosthe3rd · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
laying out some sketching
gonna go over this another time, but I wanted to keep track of a thought I had
162 notes · View notes
hornyharpy · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
CW: selfharm, blood, gore, mentally ill homosexuals
okay i think im not going to draw more ranfren fanart so enjoy the last crumbs from the table
23 notes · View notes
coal-cipher · 1 year
Text
[ Knowledge ]
"Now he has suffered that we all shall endure; Good Deeds shall make everything certain. Now he has ended, I think I hear angels singing and making great joy and melody where Everyman's soul shall be received."
Tumblr media
74 notes · View notes
myafu · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
an angel in the flesh (๑´•.̫ • `๑) . . . 🌼 !!
15 notes · View notes
doodlelands-dwellers · 3 months
Text
Better.
[Please read this with caution! It is angst and may contain content that's harmful to some! Selfharm, blood, (probably poorly portrayed) academic trauma, and (also probably poorly portrayed) body dysphoria.]
Travis hummed along to the song playing from the speaker in his room as he scrolled through the seemingly never-ending amount of assignments he had. He'd done all of them, of course. Turned them in and completed them all to the best of his ability. He's learned by now that's the way it should be. Everything perfect and complete so his parents won't hate him. He opened a new tab to view his digital gradebook. As he expected, all of his classes held A’s. Some lower than others, but whatever. An A is an A. He double checked everything and very quickly realized he did, in fact, not have an A in everything. His expression faltered as he stared at the pixels forming a “D” on his screen. Fuck. Oh, fuck. Didn't his parents plan to call him later this week? Or was that today? Shit. He was done for. He swore he could hear the yelling from the other end of the phone now.
“Oookay.. Don't freak out, Travis! You should be able to contact the teacher about it and fix that assignment! Simple as that!” He told himself this and believed it! Until, he realized the grade was on a test that he knew he couldn't redo. He had flunked on the only test that mattered and now his parents were going to hate him.
“Shit. I'm fucking stupid. God damnit..” Travis pushed himself away from his desk, digging his nails into his arms. Small trails of white appeared on his skin where he scratched, blossoming into red as he sped up the pace. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he continued the motion. He should've paid more attention. He should've done something more to make sure he would've gotten a good grade. Now all he'd get was an earful and probably some scars from his scratching and biting for a few days. Speaking of biting, he raised his arm to his mouth, biting it with incredible force. His teeth only clamped tighter around the flesh of his arm as the pain took place. A cycle of “bite harder, more pain” was all that Travis focused on for a few good minutes. When he finally pulled away, he had created a large bite mark that had blood rising to the surface beneath it. It stung like hell, but that was his end goal. To make sure it hurts. He doesn't even remember when he started doing this. This tradition of biting and clawing himself to shreds everytime he was stressed or upset. He faintly remembers Auto telling him to try his best to stop. Which he had. He had tried his best. Not like it worked. His other hand shook as he rose it, reaching out to grab a pencil out of the cup on his desk. The one he chose was mechanical. It had long run out of lead and the eraser was barely there. Still, it served a purpose to Travis. It served a “wonderful” purpose to him. He brought the pencil back to the arm he had already beaten up, trailing it along the bright red marks he had left behind with his own hands. The tip of the pencil soon dug into his skin. It didn't break the surface, but it dealt more pain than his nails did. He dragged it back and forth, pressing it a bit deeper into his flesh each time. A sharp burst of pain, more so than everything else he had done, snapped eyes back to his arm. Out of all the times he's done this he would've expected it to happen sooner. The small gash he had torn with the pencil started to ooze blood. He pulled the pencil away from the injury, a drop of red covering the end of it. He set it down and stared at the red dripping down his arm for a bit. Funny how this is what he'd wanted to happen, but it was also the action that had tears leaving his eyes. They streamed down his cheeks as he tried to keep from making that stupid sobbing sound. He curled into a ball in his chair, one hand twisting into his hair and pulling as hard as he could while he just sat and cried. He was pathetic. Just like he'd been told by his parents several times. He just hadn't wanted to believe them. Now he realizes they're right. Everything they've ever said was right. Every single harsh name he’s been called for his grades dropping. Every little insult when he was caught doing anything but schoolwork. All of it was right. He truly was pathetic. He was lazy. Now his laziness would land him in trouble. Blood mixed with tears as he wrapped his arms around his chest which didn't even feel right. He’d noticed that recently. He'd noticed that something was missing. He’d catch himself puffing out his chest more often. Trying to fill in for something. Not like he knew what it was, but he was trying to substitute for it. It didn’t matter. It was just another thing wrong with him that he wasn’t able to fix. Just another thing to be bothered by.
7 notes · View notes
o-craven-canto · 5 months
Text
The taste of grass
Solur ni atti yoma qa i serissi, yahar ni imna khaliqy nai
"To one who eats only solu fruit, good grass tastes bitter" -- Yoma saying
Over the timecycles, many of our brethren have sought a perfect world. Only one I met once who might have found it. By his request I will not write his name; I hope he'll be happier in shadow. I had to pass through many worlds, speak to many explorers, and consult many archives before I could track him down. He was merely an oneirobat apprentice, who had been sent by his master, now dead by old age, to look for a world that had not Fallen.
I was very surprised, when I finally talked to his former fellow apprentices, to discover he lived in Meru, crossroads of all the worlds, where despotism and cruelty and duplicity are so abundant, when he could have lived in a land of earnestness and love. Nevertheless, I burnt a little offer to Merikash in thanks and set out to meet him.
I found him living in a hovel on a sparsely-built slope of the Mount, surrounded by vegetable gardens and fungaria in which he grew all his food. He trode carefully lest he crush an insect underfood, in the manner of Gymnosophists. It appeared as if he was doing penance for a terrible crime.
He was very reluctant to speak, at first. Only when I showed him my sigil of oneirobat master, and reminded him of his vows, he relented, and even then it took many glasses of Sona-Nyl wine to thaw his courage. I was permitted to record our talk. He drew a deep, wavering breath, and spoke.
***
"Six years ago, in my personal timeline. I found the door almost by chance, in one of the many directions my teacher had given me to explore, and spoke the words -- if you would, master, do not make me repeat them. It was a world of such exquisite beauty, all natural at least by appearance. There were beautiful lakes of pure water, and beautiful cliffs with streaks of candid marble flanking them like protective walls, and everywhere were shady pine groves, and other trees that have no name in this world, but there are called solu, and the taste of their fruit fills the brain with ecstatic warmth--" He did not smile as he recounted these things, and I noticed he flinched at the word "beauty".
"Soon after I met the beings who live there; yomar they call themselves. Many millions, I think, but only a couple hundreds in a village. They are like elephant calves, reaching barely to my hip, with a trunk that divides into hand-like appendages. With those they build hut out of branches, weave dresses out of reeds and grass, pluck the solu and other fruits, and caress each other's forehead and rump. Their coat is streaked with earthy colors, and the pattern of those streaks gives each yoma a name, and a calling. For each, it seems, is called at birth to do something useful, and that they accomplish with perfect joy.
"They recoiled from me at first, but with some caution they led me, hand in trunk, to a guest-house in their village. They gave me grain and a kind of milk that they squeeze from the sides of a beast like a great caterpillar. I tasted solu as well, and it was delicious as I said; but soon after I was violently ill, and stayed feverish for two days. I would learn that solu is poisonous to all creatures save the yomar themselves, and eating of it makes their flesh poisonous in turn, so that no predator ever molests them.
"I suppose they took pity on me. Through my illness they were prompt and cheerful; I recall a gesture of the trunk that was like a smile. They brought me milk, and sponges to bathe. In the meantime I learned their language, which is soft and fluttering. When I could walk again, I visited their village. It was one of many hundreds, they said, with a great capital city built on the mountains for the queen of all yomar, whom they worshipped as a divine being.
"Since I was by far the tallest, I was asked to pluck fruit from upper branches, and assist with thatching roofs. They painted a sort of circular rune on my forehead, signifying my function. They gave me a name in their language, naasha, based on the swirl of that rune. Everyone performs a special function in the village, you see; and no yoma ever murmurs against having to plough the fields while another mixes sweet drinks. As the sun sets, they go and look at each other's work for the day, taking great pleasure in giving and receiving praise. One every few days they consecrate to common games and contest of skill; they're especially fond of play-wrestling and confectionery.
"Since there was little machinery, perforce most yomar had to work in gathering food; their land was rich, although not so far as to strain belief. I was but one of many fruit gatherers -- I saw no hunting or butchering, though they strain a sort of jellyfish from the rivers -- and we would make it a game, or even something more serious, of filling our baskets with the most and the most beautiful fruit. The ablest gatherers, and I could count myself one, would bask in compliments before emptying their basket into the granary for common use.
"One morning I saw one able gatherer leave her basket unattended on a crowded path as she went to a stream to wash her trunk-hands. Upon her return I said: are you not afraid someone will take your harvest, perhaps pretend they had collected it themselves? At that they all averted their eyes, and sent home the calves. For the rest of the day all would only spoke to me if I called them, and even then, coldly. I spent the rest of the day alone, studying the woods, and the next morning I found they had returned to their usual cheer.
"It occurred again and again. Once I asked an elder, withdrawing for the night, why they would not lock their door. He asked what could possibly be the point of that. I pointed out someone might injure him or take his belongings, and for all response he looked at me with the same angle of trunks with which one would look at a rotten carrion. Once I idly asked whether the flesh of the cattlepillars was consumed along with their milk; I was never permitted to tend to them again.
"I found that over the weeks the yomar were colder and less cheerful when they worked beside me, and usually chose to work elsewhere. Calves I rarely saw and never spoke to. Only one, a young yoma named Nila, with a coat the color of sunlight cutting through dark clouds, followed me for a while. She asked of my world, which I dared not describe in full, though I spoke of things light and harmless, and hesitated to tell more. I must have been frightened and lost, so far from home, she said. I answered her questions as delicately as I could, but this only led her to share my fate: we would work alone, with a fence of cold silence all around us.
"I resolved to speak as little as possible, even with her. But shame and frustration gnawed at me; I was less careful when gathered, I trampled bushes and snapped branches. That seemed to frighten the others, who became sullen and quiet even with each other; and soon none but Nila dared talk to me at all.
***
"Once, she, who had been called last to the granary for the third day in a row -- last before me, that is -- called me out of the guest-house. She told me in words sweet and delicate that she still had the highest hopes for me, but that my uncouthness hurt her as fiercely as it surely hurt myself, and begged me to give it up at last. I could not understand what were, precisely, the faults they found in me, though I knew there were many; and as she insisted I must know already, and not to mock her with feigned ignorance, I said that the yomar should just do what they clearly wished, pick up stones and drive me out of their merry village forever, like a foul beast. Nila staggered back as from a blow, mouthing words she could not voice.
"I had said a dreadful thing. I tried to explain myself with crescent desperation; but my own words were ugly and misshapen when they left my lips. Eventually Nila shouted at me, be quiet!
"A crowd had gathered around us, and watched us with horror and grief. After a long silence, in which Nila wept and I looked around in bewilderment, an elder stepped forward and said gravely that we must go speak to the queen, for nobody else could make us clean again.
"We set walking, the two of us and a couple witnesses, to their great city, built on a cloud-capped mountain. We met their queen, simply by asking -- no guards! no doors! -- A creature candid white, with a thin filigree of golden markings all over her spelling out unutterable mantras, sitting on a throne that appeared grown from a single crystal of cinnabar. From a palace of gilded wood she ruled all the known yomar, with the help of some faculties that, in my understanding, were hers alone. She could gaze into the thoughts and passions of the living, and direct the cycles of the world to assure the bounty of harvests, playing the patterns of clouds and rains with her trunk as a harp. She kept the peace, I was told, and judged their disputes.
"At last! I crowed within, Tell me of the arts of terror that force your subjects into such perfect compliance; show me the fear that must always press their hearts. What is your first weapon, when you sense disloyalty? Do you lock the clouds and starve a whole town, until they bring you the traitor's head on a platter? I was to be... disappointed. Their threats to peace, in truth, were little spats between friends. An insensitive remark, a... neglected invitation, a poor allocation of gifts. The queen decided who was in the wrong and ask them to apologize. Sweetly the first time, sternly the second; a third was not needed.
"She listened to our stories and sentenced us both to a certain number of kind actions within the next ten days. Until then, we'd be left free. Nila went her own way outside. I looked for the palace's library, hoping they would count re-shelving books as sufficiently kind, though in fact I was there for my own purposes first.
"I scoured their histories in search of some terrible secret, of some wretched evil hiding under their colors and smiles. There must be precedent for me. I searched for the most loathsome character in their memory. Do you know what I found? A city councilor who had helped a friend cheat in a culinary contest, and had to be asked five times before apologizing. That is it. That's the worst their species had to offer. That was their arch-criminal, whose name yomar use as an insult in their rare moments of anger. Ha ha!" A grin stretched the speaker's mouth, without reaching his eyes.
"I stumbled out of the palace, blinking in the sunlight. The bright blue sky was an accusation, a judgment -- she kept it bright and blue, didn't She? I wished it turned to storm; I wished for hail and thunder, for the ground to dry and for vermin to strip the treetops bare; I stumbled on the cobbled road, put together by someone who found perfect joy in cutting rock. I kicked at the stones, which would not yield. Surely the stonemason had never felt the boredom and frustration I felt when my master set me to copying starcharts.
"I brooded my way through the city, and the yomar there, who didn't know what sort of beast I was, looked at me with curiosity. When I grew hungry, I would walk into a house, offer to help with preparing food, most of which they always gave me. But there was something sour in their faces when I left; I did not dare stay in one place for long.
"I saw freshly painted jewels drying in the sun, and thought: Why has none been stolen? I saw the queen's ministers walk unguarded through a marketplace, and thought: What if someone kills them? Day after day these thoughts horrified me more and more, and yet they came ever more frequent, until finally I could hardly look at a yoma without thinking: It would be so easy to kill it. It would, you know? You could wring their necks without the least effort. And they all knew my thoughts. I made them ill, I was... a stain, in that world. Merely existing, as a human, in that place, it's... like being a disease, a..."
His face twitched, and he buried it in his hands. He wept quietly for several seconds, and I took the chance to refill his glass. He asked me for a measure of red spice as well, to stop his trembling. I told him that a master oneirobat must never carry such poisons, and then gave him a full thimble of it.
"I think it was the way I looked around that made people wary; I dragged behind a cloak of guilt. The yomar were colder and less generous in my presence. I was offered help less and less frequently, though there were so many piles of sweets and dairy I could have raided; so many houses I could have taken by force. I wished to step out of the cruel, ugly beast I was forced to inhabit, and beat it with a rod, and leave it bleeding and weeping in the street, going my way, finally free; but I don't recall those days as much as the nights. Every night, as I lay under a porch, I dreamed horrendous things. I dreamed of blood and fire, of storming that doorless palace and making myself emperor, of seizing the queen by her throat and rub her face into the horrors of our world, of burning down the library and the granary and and the guest-house and-- and of finding Nila again and--"
His face was the color of moonstone, and his eyes stared far behind me. I placed a hand on his arm; he briefly recoiled, but then accepted it. "You did not, though", I said; "It sounds like Ahriman could not tempt a soul to evil more deviously, and yet you held fast". I feared I was about to be told otherwise, but he swallowed and nodded. "One could argue", I continued with greater conviction, "that you showed more virtue in resisting evil thoughts than a being to whom such thoughts never occurred at all".
He made several deep breaths, looking down at our table. "I did find Nila again, eventually. She was at peace, cured of her ills, having done all the acts of kidness required to mend her soul, and many more. But as she told me this, and I did not rejoice quite as purely as her kind would have, I tasted a shade of bitterness creeping back in her voice. She knew I had not been purged as her. I think I broke her in a way, and while the cracks were cemented they were not gone. I decided then that I would rather gnaw off my own hands than be once again a reason of shame for her. I complimented Nila on her redemption, and then begged her to lead me back to the village, so that I might return to my own world.
"We travelled back, both relieved in our different ways. We chatted as amicably as we could, and rested to soak our feet in torrent water or to enjoy the breeze of pine groves. They were... serene days, after all. Away from the city, my damnable thoughts came less often; and Nila's eyes were brighter. I even thought myself on the way to redemption. But whenever I thought of staying, I... No, I could only find peace in the idea that they would soon be free.
"And that was it. We entered the village; I gave my final apology and my final thanks; the elders told me they were honored of having met a traveller between worlds, after all; they gave me some crafted gifts, which you see on that little table; Nila brushed her trunk against my face, as is their custom when people part ways; and I stepped back into the common world."
***
"You found me in a brutish place. Yet this brutishness is as a balm for me. Here, even picking up broken pots from the streets is an act of great kindness, and sharing a bowl of lentils can wash away many sins. Here, I can be a help, and not a blight; a salve, and not a poison. In that, I suppose I cannot call myself too unfortunate; the One preserve me, If I'd given in to the temptation to stay. I have not come back; and I'd ask you not to force me break my apprentice vows, master, for if you ask me the way to that place I will not tell."
"For their protection?" I replied, "I can't disagree. One less steadfast than you could do unthinkable damage to that world of innocence".
He gave a wan smile. "Their protection? I suppose. They may not need it. If they already endured free in that state for thousands of generations, as their archives showed, I doubt Sargon himself could end it. Protection they may already have; I don't know what god or djinn fashioned that world, or hides under the pelt of that queen, but it's not one humans have ever sacrificed to." He emptied his last glass, rose from the table, and gently accompanied me to the door. "But me? Us? Every day there will gnaw at your soul -- yours too, master -- like worms through rotten wood, and you too would fray, and splinter, until your own existence is an unbearable weight. Put me to torture, if you will -- will you? You are not a yoma, so the thought at least must have occurred to you -- but I shall not say how to reach that vale. I have already done you enough evil telling you it exists at all. For your peace of mind write that I'm drunken and raving, that life in this hive of cruelty has broken me into dreaming of an impossible place. You would have to lie now, but awakening tomorrow you will not know the difference; for I would not be the first, or the billionth, to dream so".
I considered it, when travelling back to my offices. But I am a lesser master of the sub-guild of Charters, who record all that is witnessed of the farthest and least known reaches of the manifold cosmos; on these matters I do not lie. As a compromise, I seal these papers and consign them to a deep basement of my chapterhouse, where they are unlikely to be found within my lifetime. May the yomar keep dwelling merry and free in their unfallen world, and we find rest and consolation in the ones we're given; and may Merikash, who is sovereign of all that we deem kind and fair, have mercy on me and on that unhappy traveller.
13 notes · View notes
rose-is-cold · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Evan got FUCKERED UP!!!!!!
4 notes · View notes
animatorfun · 10 months
Text
The real reason i had to resort to Pinterest for fashion references instead of just following accounts that post the fashion im looking for
TW FOR SELF-HARM AND HARMFUL LANGUAGE AND ROMANTICIZATION IN REFERENCE TO MENTAL DISORDERS
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I hate when i follow a FASHION account and out of nowhere theyre just like “members of this subculture are soooooo mentally ill teehee lets all go grab our razors lolzzz group cutting starts at 8:00pm LIKE 4 more ! Follow genericaltfashionacc69420 🖤”
9 notes · View notes
intuchorik · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
birch sap
11 notes · View notes
sanguinedaisy · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
i've done no harm, i keep to myself there's nothing wrong with my state of mental health
22 notes · View notes
ruinaimagines · 2 years
Note
scenario about roland finding out reader selfharms and helps them out? If you're okay with it of course. May be both romantic or platonic I don't really mind
Hello! I will be willing to write for sensitive topics such as this, but I will be doing my best to keep the specifics such as how and why vague for other’s comfortability. I also left it as your choice whether you wish to interpret it as platonic or romantic!
TW: Mentions of selfharm (not specified how or why) as well as symptoms of depression
Roland Helping Reader who Selfharms Scenario:
You weren’t really expecting nor awaiting for someone to figure out. I mean, it’s a heavy topic not just for yourself and the mental strain you’re going through, but for any others who might discover it. It felt like a burden you weren’t ready to place onto others, even if that was truly what you needed in the moment.
It felt as though every day was just getting rougher and rougher. There wasn’t really a solution to this either because it’s not as though you could just give up your duties. No matter how exhausted you felt, how closed in things seemed to be, you still had to trudge through the day.
Maybe that was an early sign for him to notice your deteriorating mental state. You were performing with less enthusiasm every day, and seemed to be stumbling a bit more in receptions. This only made you feel worse though, as if you’re just letting down others because of your incompetency.
You weren’t exactly sure how he figured it out, but when he approached you it sent you into a brief moment of panic. Of course the two of you were in private, and it’s something he didn’t seem to bring up in an upset tone, but that didn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest.
It was a terrifying feeling, like a deer caught in headlights. You were afraid, but you didn’t know what you were afraid of. Getting in trouble? Being humiliated? Dragging others into some big mess? You were unsure if there even was a reason, or if it all was irrational.
Roland obviously noticed your tenseness, and tried to calm you down a bit. He invited you to take a seat, saying that it’s not like he’s going to lash out on you. While he may not have resorted to the exact same unhealthy coping mechanisms, he knows what it feels like to be in a state of misery.
A couple of moments passed before you were finally freed from the frozen state you were in prior. You sink into the chair, glancing at your hands nervously as you play with them. Anything to avert your gaze and attention from the awkward air.
He slips into the seat across from you, “You know, I don’t mean to pry, and I’m sorry for freaking you out. I get that this is a talk that’s a bit rough to have but it would be worse if I didn’t confront you. In the end, it’s still your choice, are you willing to let me know what’s going on?”
He treads carefully on his words, but it doesn’t seem as though it’s in a pitiful way. You can tell by the look in his eyes, it’s one of genuine concern. One that’s seen in a similar spot.
As much as your head is telling you to decline the offer and go on with your day, your heart is telling you to stay put. It’s not like you want to be in the situation you’re in, but you’ve lacked a moment you could reach out. To pass this up would be only another thing you couldn’t forgive yourself for.
So you nod. You may not feel ready to speak about this, but you know you need to.
He takes your silence as a hint to keep going, so he does. “Well, I wanna start off by saying I’m not the best with words, but I hope you still understand where I’m coming from.” He straightens in his seat as he rakes a hand through his hair. “Believe it or not, I’ve been in a similar spot. I’m not gonna pretend it’s the same because you haven’t even told me what’s wrong yet, but I understand the awful feeling inside that someone would have to feel to do that. I didn’t think I’d ever recover.”
Your attention is turned towards him, listening to the story as it unfolds. He continues. “I mean it was bad, ‘could hardly get off the couch. I was swimming in my own sadness at that point. Not the proudest time of my life.” Roland shifts to put one arm behind the back of the chair he’s sitting at, crossing his legs.
“You know what though? I’m starting to do better. Even as it felt like I was at the bottom of the well, there was still a way out. It’s been a slow climb, sure, but it’s still progressing. And that happened to be at a time when I had no one to reach out to. I really do think you can get better, and I don’t wanna leave you to do it on your own.” He finishes.
You figure that now is your time to speak, right? Well you try, and on the first word you speak you’re already starting to get choked up. You persist though, and even though there are tears falling down your face you begin to explain what’s been happening. Your throat is burning and you cover your face with your hands, desperately trying to put words in an understandable way.
Everything seemed to be strung together so well in your mind. The exact script of what you were going to say played out before you, but you never expected just how emotional you were about to get.
You can hardly see because your eyes are blurry from the water, but you certainly feel the arm that wraps around you. Roland had walked over, trying to offer what emotional support he could through an embrace.
At long last you finish, but your crying doesn’t seem to be done. Still, his patience is maintained and he holds onto you until you feel better. Hopefully he doesn’t mind a tear stained suit, because as you leaned into him that’s absolutely what he was going to get.
After you relaxed enough to be able to listen, he began speaking once more. “Alright, first I want to thank you for telling me that, it isn’t easy to open up like that. Second, if you ever need to please reach out to me or other librarians, a lot of people are going through struggles like you are.”
“How about this, whenever you’re feeling upset, maybe you could find an alternative thing to focus on? The library is a bit barren when it comes to objects, but I don’t doubt you’ll find a book with something that can help.” You lean away to quickly grab a tissue, though he doesn’t mind. “Lack of motivation sucks, but it can help when you have someone to encourage you. Let me help you, and maybe bit by bit you’ll start feeling better. Sounds good?”
“Yes, thank you.” You finally spoke up once more, now have calmed down from earlier.
Roland stops to think a minute before a smile appears on his face. “I have an idea. You like food? I’ll make you breakfast, something to start off your day.” You stop to stare at him. There aren’t even words that need to be said. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
He stands up. “Well, sadly there are books that Miss Angela has commanded me to sort.. If you need anything just let me know.” There's one last look over you to make sure you’re doing okay before he begins to depart.
“Hey Roland.” You called out just before he left the room, to which he curiously looked back around. “Either you don’t give yourself enough credit for talking to people, or you’re a liar.”
The last thing you see is a smile and him saying, “Thank you, I’m flattered.” Before he heads off to the rest of the floor.
24 notes · View notes
acefaun · 2 years
Note
Hi! I was wondering if I could request a story with Scorpio preventing a female MC from committing su!c!de. I know it's really dark, so if you don't feel comfortable with it, you're under NO obligation to write it. If so, I'm terribly sorry for requesting something triggering. I just really love your writing and all the comfort pieces you've written up until now have been great comfort for me. (Omg- I should stop writing so big requests- Someone's gonna kick my b u t t one day💀)
Scorpio~ Famous Last Words
Synopsis: MC didn’t ask to be a reincarnated goddess. She was always just a tool to be used by whoever had power over her, that included cruel gods like Scorpio. But he didn’t realize his mistake until it was almost too late.
✨Masterlist✨
Female Goldfish! Warnings: suicide, blood, self-harm, GoRe
A/N: Same day delivery, anyone? The angst was enough to make me cry this time—probably because I picked a really angsty my chemical romance song for the title… And I went a little too far adding extra unnecessary drama and angst by pulling some Oedipus Rex shit—for anyone who understands that reference, congrats, you passed your English class. 
I love comforting dudes with my angst, but I wish I could give y’all hugs. It seems like you guys need it. PLUS, the bigger the request, the more information I have to write what you want! So never hold back! I won’t kick your butt for being creative. I’ll kick my own butt for going too deep into the darkness of this request tho.
–Word Count: 5,092–
Their voices were too loud as they echoed through the hall. I wanted to go home, but they offered me a room in their mansion for better access to my powers. I had been surrounded by nothing but gods for more than a few weeks and I was growing weary of their superiority complexes. They were always talking down on humans, saying how high maintenance we were as if I were some kind of animal they had unwillingly adopted. Well, that was mostly Leon and Scorpio who loathed humans. Teorus, Ichthys, and Dui all acted as if I were some new and exciting pet dog for them to play with. Huedhaut was decent enough, but he rarely spoke to me unless he needed something, drawing me to the conclusion that he didn’t really like me being around either. 
I had these self-depreciating thoughts in my head thanks to their low opinions on humans—but I already felt that being alive and human was a waste of time and resources long before I met them, anyway. Before I met them, I would have thought that gods loved humans—guess I was wrong there too. 
“Stupid woman.” My door was flung open, and I flinched as it hit the wall, Scorpio walking in with his infamous scowl. “You deaf? I don’t like being kept waiting. I need your powers to work. C’mon.” 
Scorpio’s anger was one thing I was afraid of on top of all the other feelings I got from him. He was a volatile god, so it was only natural to feel this way. Right? He and Leon were at odds with each other but they acted so similar. I wondered if they both took sadistic pleasure from making me feel like shit day in and day out. 
It didn’t help that they weren’t at all concerned with my health—or maybe they just never considered it. After all, gods couldn’t know what it was like to have a mental illness, could they? I wasn’t sure they’d even understand what depression was even if I said I needed my medicine for it.
Silently, I helped Scorpio with his work for the day. Luckily it wasn’t much, and he only touched me when he absolutely needed to. After all, I had been told by the other gods that his power allowed him to pick up on the negative feelings of others when he touched them. I was sure he felt plenty of negative feelings from me. However, my work wasn’t done even after Scorpio was finished with me. Ichthys and Dui were next—lest they not do their work and incur Scorpio’s wrath too. 
“Hey,” Dui addressed me, actually sounding somewhat concerned since we first met. “You look pretty down today. Do you feel drained when we use you to do our work?”
“That would make sense,” Ichthys agreed despite me not having said anything to either of them. “We get tired too from using our powers. We’ll let the others know to give you a break. The guys from the Heaven’s will be upset, but we can’t drain our goldfish since we need her to get back home.” 
They needed to use me just to get back home. They constantly reminded me of the reason for me being among gods. I didn’t earn their godly favor or praise, they just needed what the stars in my eyes could give them. But Dui and Ichthys kept their promise to give me a well-deserved break. Well, I say it was well-deserved; I was just emotionally exhausted from having to see them every day. Of course, Scorpio was relentless in visiting me at least twice a day to remind me how I needed to regain my strength so he could leave this filthy world.
Right… and the minute they could go home then I’d be left all alone again on this filthy planet that they hated so much. How could they be gods that watched over humans if they couldn’t even tolerate walking amongst them? Nothing had ever made me feel more useless in the universe than knowing that not even gods genuinely wanted me to exist. They were soon to return home anyway…
I hummed, staring out of the window of my room. Maybe the heavens was that much better than Earth. Maybe… it was time for me to go home too.
***
I wasn’t in my room, Scorpio had checked there more than once during his search across the mansion. Usually my presence was so bright and noticeable to them, but I had vanished under their noses. He didn’t like the pit that was forming in his chest. There had been something off about me lately but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Even just touching me he could feel the festering negative energy inside of me. It was something he was familiar enough with, but he didn’t think too hard on it. It wasn’t like this goldfish lived the same life that he did when he was a human. At least I had a pleasant home. Heck, I was allowed to live amongst gods. What could have been a greater honor than to be among divine beings? 
Storming into the living room with his narrowed eyes, he scanned the room. Though, their conversation already clued him in to the fact that I wasn’t there either. 
Leon was leaning back in his chair with Huedhaut sitting on the opposite sofa. They were both doing paperwork, something Leon vehemently hated with a passion. “Idiot scorpion,” Leon complained to distract himself from his work. “If you and your lackeys hadn’t drained the goldfish, then I’d be doing actual work and not this rubbish. When is she coming do her job to send us home?”
“Filthy lion,” Scorpio immediately shot back without missing a beat. “I don’t know where the stupid woman went, but she’s mine, got it? She’ll be removing my mark first.” He grumbled angrily to himself as he retreated from the living room. He didn’t need to put up with this bullshit right now, he had other things on his mind. 
What were things that humans typically needed? Fresh air? Was that a thing on this filthy planet? He searched outside the mansion, but there were no signs of me being there either. Humans needed food, leading him back to the kitchen once again. Even so, there were no signs of me having eaten anything in the past day or so. Did no one notice that? 
There were plenty of stupid humans in the world, but he had met none with my kind of stupidity in a long while. Just what kind of life could I have lived to feel so shitty? Well, Scorpio supposed he might not have helped very much. He wasn’t sure anything that ever flew out of his mouth was relatively close to being nice—but who could blame him? He was Scorpio, the Vice-Minister of the Department of Punishments. It wasn’t his job to be the nice guy. That’s what the guys in Wishes were there for. Maybe I’d have been in a better shape if I had chosen someone from their department instead of some hardass like him. 
He was furious when he returned to my room for the fifth time that day. I wasn’t anywhere around and it was pissing him off that I’d just vanished into thin air. Throwing my door open, his scowl deepened as he didn’t immediately see me. 
He didn’t want to go through any of my belongings, but it seemed like that was the only choice he had left. There were a few books scattered here and there, I borrowed some of them from Huedhaut, but one of them stood out to him. The cover was blank and didn’t have any special title or cover. It was a plain book that almost blended it with the others. 
Originally he was just going to toss it aside and continue his search, but the idea of it possibly being a journal made him think back on his decision to avoid reading. He was sure my handwriting would be too shitty to read, anyway; I was just a human and my hands were always shaking when he took me to work. 
However, he was surprised when he flipped to the first page. My handwriting was legible, but still had some sections that looked like chicken scratch. Well, he couldn’t say much. His handwriting was garbage when he was a human—much worse than what he was looking at now.
Scanning through the pages, he only slowed down to a readable pace when he came across the more important parts. Such as… seeing his name. His eyes were glued to the page where he was first mention. 
‘I met gods today. They’re so strange and nothing like what humanity thinks. They’re… a lot more cruel. I didn’t believe them at first. It would have been more believable if they had told me they were demons. But their powers were real and they need my help to get home. I agreed to help Scorpio after he saved my life—that was the only thing that made me believe they were really gods. 
Scorpio’s a scary god, but he seems familiar for some reason. I picked him because I thought we had something in common. We both think that the Earth is filthy trash. He calls me stupid… I can’t say I disagree. Besides, gods know better, don’t they? If he says I’m stupid and useless, then it must be true. Still, I like him deep down. He tells things how they are. I hope going home will make him happier than he is on Earth…’
That was when he first met me, he noted. He didn’t think I liked him very much at all. Was he that dense that he couldn’t tell what kind of effect his words were having on me? Stupid? No. He just said that because he hated humans, he hated he was once a human. But if he could be a god and I could be a reincarnated goddess, then… surely I wasn’t as bad as he made it sound. 
Still, he continued flipping through the many pages of writings on the other gods. They had little tidbits and extra comments about things he said and did throughout my time in the mansion, but there wasn’t anything that truly caught his attention until he found this week’s entry. 
Seeing his name in the same sentence as Ichthys and Dui, he could only assume the worst.
‘I learned something interesting about Scorpio today… His ideals are different from the other gods. They don’t outright hate humans like he does. The way he sees the world is so similar to me and I never understood why a god could feel the way I do.
I made a comment to Dui about sending them off of this filthy planet, and he made a comment back that some humans think alike. I didn’t understand what he meant until they explained how Scorpio used to be a human too. I had many theories about how Scorpio might have lived on Earth for some time before, but I never imagined he lived on Earth as a human. Not only that, but he was just a child… his parents sold him to become a weapon for some shady human organization. 
I wasn’t sure how that really applied to me until I realized that this must be why I feel like Scorpio and I should share a connection that’s not really there. He didn’t see a point to living in a world with filthy humans. I don’t either. I also want to know what purpose I have. Why am I here? I hate being a human because humans are so cruel in this world. I hate this world. 
There’s no point.
The gods keep mentioning something about the stars in their eyes keeping them alive. I heard a story about how Huedhaut took the stars out of his eyes to save my soul. Is he happy with himself? It doesn’t matter. I don’t hate him for doing something he thought was right.
But… I’m not sure if it’s my heart or my soul that’s in pain. These gods all want to leave and go home to a place that sounds infinitely better than Earth. So I had a thought last night… what if I got rid of my stars? Then my soul wouldn’t keep coming back and leaving me in pain like this on Earth. Then I wouldn’t have to be such a nuisance. Maybe my soul would finally go home and I’d have peace like what the gods are searching for. 
It’s a long shot… and it might not work. But thanks to the place I picked, even if I can’t remove my stars, I can at least have a nice final view of the Heavens. It’s a place that Scorpio once showed me on accident—a place on Earth that’s the closest I’ll ever get to the Heavens. I’ve explored it a few times on my own and found a cliff… It’s scary to think about it so I’ll leave it at this.’
What the hell was he feeling so emotional for? His hands were shaking, and he hated it. There was a page of writing left to read but he felt like he had to move, to run, to go. But the last page… he had such a desperate hope that I was okay and that the last page would leave off on a good note. Maybe it would tell him I was safe somewhere. That I was just catching my breath in that spot that he showed me. 
He was too anxious to flip the page, though. Why was he feeling such a stupid human emotion?! Just flip the page and get it over with! He had to see it with his own two eyes!
‘Scorpio came find me again last night. Why did he seem more angry than usual? Maybe something’s bothering him too. At least he seems like he has good friends. Dui and Ichthys seem to care about him, as much as Ichthys constantly triggers his anger. He should talk to them about his feelings some time. 
I’m just… sorry I couldn’t help them. Scorpio’s mark seemed like it was disappearing but we don’t know why. I’m sure he’ll be able to figure it out soon so he can go home. He’s really smart and knows what he’s doing in Punishments.
Even as a human he was smart enough and strong enough to be noticed by the gods to ascend to godhood. I’m a little jealous that he was rescued like that… but I’ll be saved soon in my own way. After all, it was only thanks to the other gods that I could find a solution to stopping my reincarnated soul from continuing this cruel cycle.  
Terrified as I am… I’m ready. 
As a final note… I guess it’s only a matter of time before they figure out what happened and search my things for answers why. All I can say is… I’m tired. Or… I was tired. I’m exhausted from feeling the weight of this world. I’m sorry I couldn’t have helped more. Next time, I'll do better. I’ll try to be less useless. I just wanted to go home too.’
NO. No, no, no. Dropping the book, he ran for the front door. How much time had passed? When did I leave the mansion? How much time did he have left? Was he out of time? He spent most of the day searching for me like an idiot when I was out there hurting! Well, if I was still out there hurting then he’d consider himself one lucky bastard. 
He got confused glances from Ichthys and Teorus, but he didn’t acknowledge them as he focused on where he was sure I was. He needed to get to me fast. The door slammed shut behind him, only making him go faster. 
All he could hear on the other side of the door was the merciless whipping of the wind around the trees. I had to be around there somewhere. I mentioned something about being nearest a cliff and he didn’t like that thought one bit. What if he found something he didn’t want to see… 
Damn it. He was a god. This kind of situation should have been in his power to control!
But his eyes widened in childish fear as the wind carried my pained cries to him. He wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but he followed it as if it were his own life on the line. There was no time to waste when someone he cared about was in danger. 
Someone he cared about? He paused. Yes, but there was no time to contemplate it now. His chest felt like it was searing—could that have been an effect of my pain that he was physically feeling? That didn’t seem to be the case as he flew up a rocky path. His heart stuttered uncomfortably as he found me kneeling on the ground, my hands cupping my face as if to muffle my agonized screams. There was a knife blood on the ground and on my hands but where was I hurt? What have I done while he wasn’t there to protect me?
“(NAME)!” It was the first time he said my name. But a surge of power hit him and before he knew it, he was in his god form kneeling beside me with the knife kicked away. “You idiot…” His throat tightened as he failed to properly be able to scold me. “What did you do?”
It hurt much more than I expected it too. The other gods made it sound so easy to pull stars out of your eyes, but I didn’t have any special powers, so I… tried to carve the stars out with a knife. I didn’t get very far at all before I was left crying in agony. Still, I wasn’t expecting to be found in my pathetic state. I didn’t want anyone there. I just wanted it to all be over. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. 
His rough, shaking fingers, caressed my blood-covered cheek as he turned my head up to him, his other hand having guided my hands away. Even to him, this didn’t look good. “You stupid-” He stopped himself from getting frustrated now. That wouldn’t help me. “You tried to take your stars out…” His fingers gently wiped around my eye to see the extent of the damage, but he didn’t know how bad it was. He wasn’t a freaking doctor. “Damn it. I’m taking you back to the mansion. Don’t you dare pull any more stupid shit.” He carefully pulled me into his arms. He didn’t want to hurt me further. It wasn’t like he even knew if that was the extent of the damage I had done. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if I let something happen to you…” 
“It hurts!” I cried to Scorpio. “It hurts so much!” But what was I talking about? I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the way I mutilated my eye or if I meant the fact that I failed to die. What was worse? The emotional or physical pain? I’d read a lot about people who failed to commit suicide, but I never imagined how humiliatingly painful it would be. 
He swore he could almost feel my pain radiating onto him, but his priority was to stop the bleeding. Snapping his fingers, he transported me straight back to the mansion where the gods in the livingroom panicked at hearing my cries and seeing the blood that covered me and Scorpio. 
“Smartass,” Scorpio immediately called for Huedhaut, his sharp eyes landing immediately on the blue-haired smart ass who could fix this. “Make her stop bleeding!” 
“Scorpio,” a voice called that I didn’t recognize, capturing Scorpio’s attention as soon as Huedhaut had begun to tend my injury. None of them had a single clue what was happening except for Scorpio, but he had his own problems. Zyglavis was standing in the living room, clearly for a reason. The Minister of Punishments said, “It’s time to return to the Heavens.” 
His eyes hardened once again as he refused to leave my side. He couldn’t leave yet. “I ain’t going anywhere. I have something that needs to be finished.”
Zyglavis pursed his lips at the determination Scorpio held to stay here… to stay with a human. Scorpio had indeed changed during his time on Earth, but they didn’t have any options. “It isn’t a choice. Staying will put the Earth’s balance in jeopardy. If you want to ensure this human’s safety, then you’ll return to the Heavens.”
Scorpio felt torn. He knew he had to leave; he had been preparing for this moment. The only problem… was that he wanted to stay now that it was finally time to go. 
“Scorpio!” He flinched at hearing me call his name. I called his name once before to save my life. Here, he found himself in a similar situation where my mental health hung in the balance. 
However, before he could argue against Zyglavis, Dui and Ichthys stepped in, determination written on their faces. Dui promised, “We’ll stay with her until you get back. But you have to return for now. We promise we’ll keep an eye on her.” Ichthys nodded in agreement. 
While he’d rather not have to rely on them and stay by my side himself, he reluctantly agreed. It wasn’t like he had a choice for the time being. My life was more important to him than anything else and if his powers interfered with anything that could interfere with my recovery, then he’d leave. But he internally swore that he’d return. Ignoring my desperate cries for him, he left with Zyglavis. I wouldn’t die yet, he was confident in that much. 
***
Things had been harder since that day. I wasn’t sure how long it had been exactly. Every day seemed to repeat on loop. I would sleep, wake up with the sun shining through the window, eat, maybe go to the bathroom for a brief change of pace, and then back to sleep until the next morning. Every day the same gods visited me. Ichthys and Dui rarely left me alone in the room unless I was sleeping, though their attitudes told me that none of them were aware of what really happened that day. 
The Wishes gods occasionally came to see if I wanted anything. They were the ones in charge of making sure I was comfortable. I mean, it was hard to be comfortable with bandages wrapped around my head to keep my eye covered and healing. Huedhaut asked many times what happened, but each time I met him with silence as a response. He changed my bandages at least once a day, always asking me how I was feeling. His heavenly concoction of salves sped up the healing process to where my eye felt numb for the most part while it healed. 
Each day that passed by, I saw all gods except for the one that I really wanted. Though, as the days passed, I began to fear his return. I began to not want to see him. He was the only one who knew how appropriate it was to lecture me. He was the only one who knew how much of a real idiot I was. He saved me twice… despite that, part of me resented him for it as much as I loved him. How strong did he have to be to come find and save a lowly human like me?
I was lost to the land of dreams when I felt something softly cross my forehead, brushing the hair from my face. I never felt the bed dip, but I was suddenly awake enough to register that there was a weight beside me. 
My eye opened up just enough to allow me to see the bleary image of a god. Only… it was him. Scorpio was leaning beside me on the bed, clearly wanting to get close without completely invading my space. His eyebrows furrowed as he felt the fear that coursed through me at first seeing him leaning above me. “Are you still hurting?” I couldn’t answer his question; I didn’t know if he meant physical pain or… “I’m not gonna ask why,” he continued when I didn’t speak. “I won’t waste your time with useless questions that we both know the answer to. But… Why did you think I’d be okay with losing you?”
“Why wouldn’t you be,” I quietly returned, my voice slightly hoarse from not being in use. “I’m just another filthy human with no use, no real place in this world. You don’t like humans anyway—but neither do I. Why did you save me again? Was saving me what let you return home? Why’d you come back?”
His fingers pressed against my lips to cease my endless questions. “I came back because I promised I would. I left behind someone important on this filthy planet. I didn’t think there’d be anyone who could understand me the way you do. Even for a goldfish…” He sighed, tired of pretending like his past never happened. “I had nothing to live for when I was a human—no real place to belong. I became the Minister of Punishments to cleanse the world of filth, but I can’t do this job completely right either if I’m still letting people like you suffer.” He paused, his eyes trailing over the clean, white bandages. “I thought it was my fault.”
“It wasn’t,” I defended him, not wanting him to hate himself for something he didn’t cause. “I’m a stupid human. I just- I wanted-”
“I told you, you don’t need to explain it. Especially if you’re not ready to talk about it.” 
I silently stared at him, but he noticed the tears that were gathering at the corner of my eye. He was just in time to catch it as it fell, wiping it away before it could fall down my cheek. “But you already know.”
“Yeah,” he admitted as if it weren’t anything to be ashamed of. This was an example of what it meant to share the same brain-cell, I guess. Seeing my quiet despondency, he said, “That’s why I’m not leaving again. I didn’t have anyone until they accepted me as a god. I dunno if you’ll ever have the same chance that I had, but you have stars in your eyes. So, if you feel you don’t have a place on this stupid planet, then I’ll give you one.”
“What?” My eye widened as I regarded him. He looked completely honest. 
Without the harsh look on his face, he looked softer. It tempted me to ask him if he was really Scorpio. “You want a place to belong,” he said, his hand gently covering mine. “You can belong with me. You need someone who’s gonna understand you. I… I also like having someone who understands me.” 
I couldn’t respond with how tight my throat began to feel. I wanted to say yes, but I wasn’t sure that I should. It couldn’t have been appropriate for a god and a human-
I froze as he leaned over, wrapping his arms around me as he held me close to him. Gently, he caressed my head. Whispering softly, he said, “You don’t have to answer that right now either. I’m sorry for making you feel overwhelmed when you’re still recovering. Just… promise you’ll come to me before thinking about trying to leave me again?”
Sniffling, I buried my face into his shoulder, my hands feebly grasping at his shirt. “Yeah… I promise. I pro-omise. I’m sorry.” 
“Hey,” he grumbled, his harsh expression returning as he tried to wipe away my tears again and put a stop to my hiccupping. “You can’t start crying on me. That smart guy’s gonna get mad and blame me if you mess up your bandages. You need to get some more rest.” Despite his scolding, his eyes remained with that soft look. His hand caressed my head, and he sighed with a small smile. He was going to leave out the fact that his powers grew thanks to me and he could feel the entire spectrum of my emotions now. I didn’t need to know that he knew I loved him yet. He’d save that mushy stuff for when I was truly feeling better. In the meantime, he would not be leaving my side.
Relaxing beside me, he made sure I was comfortable and secure in his arms as he let me drift back off to sleep. He’d save me as many times as he needed in order to keep me beside him.
17 notes · View notes
coal-cipher · 1 year
Text
[ 19 : Self Inflicted ]
Tumblr media
39 notes · View notes
3g0st · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Christine and Adrian take too much DXM at the pier. They're having trouble building a relationship now that both of them are outside of the confines and structure of the psychiatric hospital. Bonds built under duress often end up being more trouble to maintain, but neither of them really know the difference and blame it on the drugs.
3 notes · View notes
bo-red-rat · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Cutnets (~ ̄▽ ̄)~
3 notes · View notes