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nicksbestie · 10 months

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Fading

THIS IS DEPRESSING AND TRIGGERING AS FUCK, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT IN A STABLE PLACE THANK YOU !! I TAKE NO RESPONSIBILITY IF YOU IGNORE THIS AND CONTINUE TO READ IT

word count: 1647

content warnings: self-harm, descriptions of blood, gauze, depression/mental illness, descriptions of pain

this is ur last warning to step away !! otherwise, enjoy

There was so. much. blood. The sight of it would make anyone dizzy, and as Scarlett stared down at her upper legs and inner wrist, her hand shook harder than it ever had before. The resemblance of her name, her fiery red hair, and the red liquid pooling in her bathroom was not something she had ever found ironic, but right now, she wondered if it was a coincidence or a cruel twist of fate.

This had always been something that was private, something she dealt with alone. She’d always been able to handle it, she’d never wanted to talk about it, to put the burden of her mental illness onto someone else. It’s not like she didn’t have people to talk to, she just couldn’t hurt them with that when they definitely had their own shit to go through. It’s just not who she was.

She had a boyfriend who had been there, who had lived through what she was doing, who had talked to her about it. And yet, after two years of a relationship, he didn’t know. She felt horrible about it sometimes, but he had always assured her that she didn’t owe him anything, and he would never push her to speak about anything that she didn’t want to. But as her vision blurred with tears, tears of fear, mixed with a large amount of pain that mostly hadn’t hit her system yet, she didn’t know what else to do.

She had never been more grateful that she agreed to move in on their two year anniversary, as the metal blade clattered to the tile floor and she sobbed out, sitting down on the toilet seat and staring in shock at her body, letting out just one word, in the form of a yell.

“Ash!”

Ashton was nearly on the verge of falling asleep, as it was nearing one in the morning, but the absolute panic in his girlfriend’s voice flowed through his veins like an electric shock. He sat up, throwing the covers off of his body and standing up, immediately noticing the light seeping out from under the bathroom door.

“Scarlett?!”

The door was locked. He rattled the knob twice, getting no response. He pounded on the door, once, before slipping his thumbnail into the small crease in the doorknob, twisting it and popping the lock on the door.

“Scar- Scarlett.”

She could barely see through the waves of tears, but she will never forget the look on his face. Fear, blended with heartbreak, all coated in a layer of fresh pain.

It only made her cry harder, unable to form words. She turned her face away, refusing to make eye contact with him. Seeing the absolute shock in his hazel eyes was too much, it made her feel way too fucking vulnerable. Not like she already wasn’t feeling that, but since she was, that was a level she couldn’t handle right now.

Ashton tried his hardest not to think. He couldn’t spare the time to think, she needed help. But at the same time, he didn’t know how to turn off the millions of thoughts racing around his head.

How long? Why didn’t she tell him? She didn’t have to tell him anything, but he thought maybe she would come to him if… Regardless, it didn’t matter, he was finding out now, and she needed him.

He immediately grabbed a washcloth and ran it under some cold water, offering her his hand as he kneeled in front of her.

“Oh, baby. Here, tighten your grip, this is probably going to hurt pretty badly.”

He firmly pressed the material to the deepest set of wounds, wincing slightly as a pained cry slipped past her lips, and her hold on his hand tightened until he thought he’d lose circulation. Whispering soft words and encouragement as the bleeding slowly began to clot and stop, he gently wiped the excess blood from around them as he moved from one set of cuts to another. Examining all of them as he cared for them, he took great relief in noticing that the deepest ones were not deep enough to need stitches, and while they would hurt like a bitch to heal, they would be okay.

She would be okay, at least physically.

Continuing to dampen the washcloth and adjust it to a less blood-soaked side every few minutes, he spoke loving words to her the entire time. He’d been here, he knew how it felt, and he hated that she was suffering. Her crying hadn’t slowed, and she still refused to look at him. He tried so desperately to not take it personally, knowing that when he had been where she was, he didn’t want to look or talk to people either. He wanted to reach up and wipe her tears away, but he couldn’t, not with one hand holding the fabric and the other held in a death grip. It would have to do for now.

“We’re going to get through this, love. I’m here with you. I’m here for you.”

She didn’t reply, though her sobbing had slowed. It was now just a steady stream of silent tears racing quickly down her face, but she was looking at him now, which was progress. He slid the wooden drawer next to the sink open, hand easily locating and finding the medical gauze that remained in there. His heart sank and clenched at the same time when he realized just how little there was left. He had replaced the roll just earlier that week.

Softly wrapping her upper thighs, gentle hands tying it off tightly to keep the bleeding to a minimum, he pressed a kiss to the top of the bandaging on each leg before moving to her inner wrist. He easily wrapped it as well, hating how familiar the feeling felt, yet on someone else’s body. Taking her hand once more, he stood and gently pulled her to her feet, immediately wrapping his arms around her body. His chin rested on top of her head, and while he normally teased her for their size difference, today he hated how small she felt against him.

“I love you. C’mon, darling. It’s late, let’s go lay down, and we can talk.”

She didn’t fight him, but she didn’t agree either. Her body was nearly limp against his as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently led her back to their shared bedroom. He noted that she was already in comfortable clothes, and his heart felt like it never stopped aching as he considered how much she may have, for lack of better words, prepared, before doing this.

He laid back down in the bed, motioning for Scarlett to come lay against him. She did, wincing slightly when the sheets rubbed against her arm and thighs. Ashton had a sad look on his face, and she hated herself for putting it there. She never wanted to hurt him, and now she had. The thought of that did nothing to calm her already raging anxiety and pain, and the tears that had slowly stopped easily picked their pace back up again, this time soaking a spot into Ashton’s shirt from where she was pressed against his chest.

Normally his heartbeat relaxed her, eased her to sleep, comforted her in times of distress, but tonight, all it reminded her of was blood. Pumping through his body, just like her own was. Blood running in veins through wrists and thighs, blood that had been spilled onto their bathroom floor, that she had just sat and sobbed in while Ashton cleaned up her mess without so much as a single complaint. His heartbeat was no longer a comforting sound, only making her eyes blur with tears and her airway clog up with snot from the meltdown.

She pulled herself away, turning her back to him, trying to put some space between the two of them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be comforted, but she felt like a burden. And the last thing she wanted to do was burden Ashton, as she’d already hurt him tonight, clearly beyond repair. But he immediately reached out and turned her back around, not letting her hide from him again. She didn’t say anything, but he seemed to know anyway.

“We should talk, but I don’t think that it would do you much good right now, so I’ll talk, and all I ask is that you listen. I know how much you’re hurting. I’ve been where you are, my love, and it is horrible. You are so strong for going through this, and dealing with it alone, but you don’t have to anymore. I’m more than willing to help you carry this pain, and I hope that you will let me. I know you, Scarlett, and I know that you are independent. I’ve always admired that about you. You never want to ask for help, and that is an admirable trait, but I know that sometimes you need it. If you don’t want to talk about this, we won’t, but I won’t forget it, either. I will be here when you need me, and we’re going to get through this.”

Sometime during his small speech, her tears had stopped again, and she had moved back to his side. His arms were wrapped around her again, and she only spoke a few words to him.

“You promise?”

He smiled down at her, gently rubbing her back, using the pad of his thumb on his opposite hand to wipe tears from her lash line.

“I promise, Scarlett. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

This time, when she fell asleep against him that night, his heartbeat didn’t bother her anymore. In fact, it was the catalyst for her getting rest, for her new beginning with him by her side. A sign of life.

#ashton irwin fic #ashton irwin angst #self h@rm #mental instability #original character #5sos fluff #ashton irwin fluff #5sos angst #this is depressing as shit #i love you all #please get help if you need it #vent fic #feeling dumps #shitpost #tw blo0d #tw blade #tw self harm

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ato-dato · 3 months

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I don’t think they’re ugly. But I think the number of times Jean has begged him to buy new clothes is astronomical.

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drawnbythestream · 19 days

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Obi-wan and his friend Bant Eerin having a sad moment after certain events

#star wars fanart #obi wan kenobi #bant eerin #I was going to save this for a long sketch dump type post #But then again it’s the most complete art I’ve done in a while #Even has a background and everything #I’ve been making my way through the Jedi Apprentice books and I have mixed feelings #Ranging from “this is great 😭💛” to “wow they would never! I’m glad this isn’t canon”#But anyway I was happy to find that Obi-wan has a sweet friend named Bant and I would like to see more of her in stuff #…also I drew this kind of small…since it was supposed to be part of a whole lineup of drawings but then I ran out of drive/energy #So… the rest will be posted some other time

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stevebabey · 1 year

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Steve hates to ask this of Eddie.

Really, it’s a last resort sort of thing. Robin’s gone for the week, some trip upstate with her family. And it’s fine, they’re close but Steve’s a big boy. He can handle a week without his best friend.

But, well, it’s just unfortunate for it to creep up on Steve when Robin’s gone. It being… shit, how did Robin explain it? She was so much better at keeping track of all those things than he was, all the terms filed away nicely in her head to be recalled as needed. Steve’s much messier— in his head, in his life.

Touch aversion, that’s what she called it. A by-product of the severe lack of touch in his childhood she had said; not enough hugs, hand holding, the works and now Steve’s grown to find it too strange. Something prickles under his skin, pulls in his gut all the wrong way, when someone’s too touchy-feely with him. Robin’s said it’s normal, and he believes her.

It just makes it harder when this comes by. That completely strange backward want that carves into his chest, creating a chasm that just aches. Suddenly, Steve wants to be touched, needs to be touched — like something behind his ribs is just begging for comfort in the form of touch, any way he can have it. Like some young part of him can still remember the hunger he had for it and it comes back in full force, a tender wound between his lungs.

It doesn’t happen that often — though, it’s more frequent than ever recently — but usually, Robin’s here. She can almost always tell before Steve works up the courage to ask. Twitchy fingers give him away. He hovers closer than normal, shoulders brushing more often.

She always gives him a smile, softer than her usual snark and says, “C’mere, dingus.” and stands on her tip-toes to envelope him in a hug. Steve can’t help but sink into it, gripping her close around the waist for as long as he needs until the hole in his chest feels a step closer to patching up.

Robin also tells him he can have as many hugs as he’d like but Steve is firm with himself; he only needs one, then he’ll be back to fine.

It what’s he needs now. One really fucking good hug. Still, he hates to ask, least of all from Eddie, because, well— okay, Steve has no reason to assume Eddie wouldn’t give him a hug.

He’s seen Eddie’s hugs before. Like everything he does, Eddie puts his everything into it- he hugs Robin til she wheezes, loves to lift Nancy off the ground, and the hug he gives Dustin is sweetest of all, a hand on the back of the littler’s head while he does some strange little sway. Dustin always laughs, playfully shoving him away by the end but Steve knows he loves them, that it helps in more than one way.

Steve is glad that Dustin has someone, besides his Mom of course, who can hug him, because Steve can’t give that to him. Maybe one day, but for now, hugs from Steve are a rarity — few and far in between. Maybe, he thinks, he doesn’t want to ask Eddie specifically because of that niggling feeling that comes up around Eddie, all gooey and soft. A feeling the swings too close to a crush that Steve has no fucking clue what to do about.

So, he hates to ask. Really. On the drive over to Eddie’s, a hangout organised before Steve started to feel the lack of touch creep in, he runs through any other options. Wait til Robin gets back? Steve’s not sure he’ll make it another 4 days. When left alone, it seems to consume him and make everything harder, everything heavier to deal with.

He’s still tossing it when he climbs the steps to Eddie’s trailer. Steve decides that he’ll see how it goes, see if there’s an opening to ask…semi-naturally or something. He’s not gonna spring it on the guy.

Eddie is wonderful company as always, devilish grins and god-awful comments about the film he picked. Steve feeds off it, drinking in the infectious energy. He tries to let it be enough; their shoulders pressed together, Eddie’s knee knocking his when he laughs, the way Eddie leans into his space to whisper even though it’s just them here tonight. Steve wants it to be enough. But even then, he can see the way his hands twitch in his lap, desperate for more.

Steve closes his eyes. Curls his hands up so tightly his nails bite into the skin. He tries to use it to wane off the feeling, the ache that sings out for Eddie beside him and it nearly works. Until—

“Steve? Y’okay?” Eddie’s voice pipes up, making Steve open his eyes in an instant.

“Hm?” Steve hums, hoping that his casualness will be enough for Eddie to skip over his peculiar behaviour. He blinks, tilting his head just a bit to show he was confused why Eddie was asking.

Eddie chuckles lightly, gesturing towards Steve’s lap, where his hands sit still clenched, white knuckled with his self-restraint. “You seem a bit stiff, that’s all.” Eddie rechecks. “You good?”

Steve opens his mouth and then closes it, forcing his hands to unclench in his lap. “I-“ he begins, then stops, unsure of what he was going to say. He did say he would look for an opening tonight. The way Eddie’s regarding him, open faced with his concern, is as good as he might get.

“This might sound a bit weird,” Steve starts, defensiveness already tingeing the words, his shoulders curling in just a bit. Eddie could say no. He’s allowed to say no. Steve really doesn’t want him to. “Like, if you think it’s weird, that’s totally fine and we can just, like, forget I said anything and—”

“Steve.” Eddie cuts him off, a linger of an amused smile on his lips. “I don’t think I’m going to find anything you say weird, sweetheart. Shoot. What’s on your mind? What troubles the great mind of Steve Harrington?”

God, it’s like a whole bunch of words designed to set Steve’s head spinning. ‘The great mind of Steve Harrington’ makes him want to scoff. ‘Sweetheart’ makes him want to swoon. He can’t decide which one he wants to do more.

“Can I-” Steve stammers, the words halting automatically. It’s too much of a habit to swallow them down. Coercing them out takes more work. He stares up at the ceiling as he grits his teeth, releases a harsh sigh, pulling himself together. “Can I… have a hug?”

There a moment of silence and Steve holds his breath.

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, and Steve takes his eyes off the ceiling to see just what that Oh means. Eddie’s smiling, a soft one gracing his pretty mouth, and Steve thinks, maybe, one day he’ll have the courage to ask for a kiss as well. Relief moves sluggishly through his veins— Eddie’s smiling, this is good.

“Well, of course,” Eddie grins widely and opens his arms, inviting Steve in. Steve hesitates for only a moment before he leans in gratefully, his arms tucking around Eddie’s midriff tightly. Eddie’s arms curl around Steve’s neck, pulling him in close. It’s the easiest thing in the world, sinking into it, so much that Steve tries his best not to immediately slump against Eddie. It feels a bit too pathetic, so Steve reels himself in. He can’t make his arms relax, trying too hard to take only what he needs and not a moment more.

“C’mon, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice teases beside his ear, his breath warm. “You call that a hug?”

He squeezes Steve a little tighter, pulling him even closer and Steve can’t help the way he melts into it— he slumps, leaning against Eddie properly and burying his quiet whine of relief into the juncture between Eddie's neck and shoulder.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs comfortingly.

Eddie takes him wholly, gives a damn good Munson hug, all warmth and comfort. He smells like, well, Eddie — a lingering scent of weed, something musky, something Eddie. His arms around Steve’s neck shuffle and Steve worries he’s trying to pull away so soon, only for one of his hands to tangle in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck. He combs through, light fingernails scratching at Steve’s scalp and shit, Steve really can’t control the noise of contentment that slips out his throat.

“Can’t believe you got so worked up just to ask for a hug,” Eddie tsks, tone coloured in disbelief. Steve makes a noise of protest, trying for a moment to wind it all back in but, like Eddie can sense it, he’s squeezing him tighter again. He begins to rock them, a soft sway side to side that lets Steve lean on him even more. He hums a tune Steve doesn’t know, low and soft.

“M’sorry,” Steve mumbles in reply, though he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologising for. For having to ask, for taking so much, for enjoying Eddie’s arms around him just a little too much.

“What the fuck for?” Eddie laughs lightly, one of his hands beginning to drum against the divots of Steve’s spin. It feels like he’s tapping pure delirium with each fingertip, shivers that make Steve’s chest glow terribly warm. It feels good, so good to be held and honestly, Steve could stay here all night if Eddie let him. Knowing Eddie, he would, because he’s that fucking nice.

That knowledge alone forces Steve to sit himself up, extracting him limbs even though so much of him mourns the warmth, the touch, that goes with it. He wants the touch but he’s had enough. Some scorned part of him burns bitterly to think Eddie would give him more just to be nice. Steve doesn’t want that— Steve wants Eddie to touch him because he wants to.

“Sorry, man, I just, uh, get like that sometimes.” Steve feels the need to explain, bringing a hand up to rub at one of his eyes. He does it half so can hide his embarrassed expression from Eddie— who’s looking at him so gently and still so so close.

“Just, aha—“ Christ, it wasn’t this awkward telling Robin. Steve’s hand moves to rub the back of his neck. “Sometimes I realise it’s been awhile since,” He gnaws on his bottom lip, something alike to humiliation curling in his gut. “Since I’ve had some touch. Usually, Robin’s around but y’know.”

He waves a hand, huffing another awkward laugh. Eddie hasn’t moved much, just listening intently, his brows ever so slightly inching closer together. He looks outright concerned at Steve’s next words.

“It’s okay, I’ve— I’ll be good now.” Steve nods along, like the motion will help him convince himself as well as Eddie. He’ll be okay now. Usually, one hug is all it takes. He ignores the surging tidal-wave want that is still going, still aching to be held by Eddie again. It would be selfish to ask for more. Eddie didn’t invite him around to hug— it’s weird, and Steve shouldn’t- can’t ask for more.

“Sooooo,” Eddie draws out the word, an impish smile beginning to play at the corners of his lips. He opens his arms wide again. “You don’t want another hug?”

In his lap, Steve’s fingers twitch. Eddie’s eyes dart to them for a second, before fixing back on Steve. He does, he really fucking does want another hug. He can’t. He’s had enough, really, it would greedy to have more.

Steve shakes his head, forces himself to huff another laugh that accidentally comes out as a strained sigh. He smiles weakly, “No, no, I’m good, dude. It’s… I’m okay, swear.”

For a moment, Steve thinks he’s convinced him. Eddie studies his face, his mischief slipping away as he deliberates Steve’s words. His eyes narrow, arms dropping just an inch before he smiles brightly and says, “Okay, can I have a hug then?”

Which, okay, right, Steve didn’t think of that. People don’t ask him for hugs. He blinks, a bit dumbly. Eddie is waiting, face eager and for a second there’s an expression of almost smugness on his face — like he’s about to get exactly what he wants. Because he knows Steve would never be rude and say no.

“I mean,” Steve breathes, voice a bit tighter than he’s expecting. He clears his throat. “Yeah, yeah, you can have a hug.”

“Great!” Eddie replies and he wastes no time. He’s all up in Steve’s space, arms around Steve’s waist this time. The motion takes Steve by surprise, enough that because he’s not expecting it Eddie’s weight pushes him back so he’s lying on the couch.

If Eddie cares, he pays no mind, his head curling up into the crook of Steve’s neck as he hugs him closer. His hair gets in Steve’s mouth, making him splutter for a second, but Eddie just grins, wriggling closer until they’re pressed firmly against each other. Steve would go as far as to say this is closer to cuddling than a hug, with Eddie squishing him from above, his arms around Steve’s middle.

“Just so you know,” Eddie’s voice rumbles from where their chests are touching, his breath sweeping across Steve’s neck. Steve shivers without meaning to, feels Eddie’s responding grin even as he continues. “All hugs requested by me are automatically 10 minutes long. Hope you’re okay with that, sweetheart.”

Steve isn’t stupid — he knows Eddie is doing it for him, doing it because he could see right through Steve’s stupid facade, had peered his yawning hunger for touch right in the face and hadn’t blanched. Instead of feeling tricked or fooled, Steve just feels…warm. Comfortable. He works his arms around Eddie’s neck til their more comfortable and find the courage in him scrape his fingers through Eddie’s hair— like he had done to Steve. Eddie’s sighs sweetly and Steve thinks he could listen to that noise forever.

“I’m… I’m okay with that.” Steve murmurs lowly, yet he knows Eddie can hear him. Eddie noses closer, a borderline nuzzle against his neck, and further down, one his hands starts to stroke softly up and down Steve’s ribs.

Steve can’t help the way it makes him freeze, the breath in his lungs holding tight as he tries to relax, tries to ignore the prickly feeling under his skin. It’s a lot. A lot of touch that Steve just isn’t used to just yet, even if he desperately craves it.

“Relax,” Eddie whispers into his skin, a soft instruction paired with the motion, one soothing stroke up and down his ribs. Steve pushes the breath in his lungs out, forces the tension out of his body, trusts that Eddie wouldn’t be offering— wouldn’t tell him to relax if he wasn’t allowed to.

“That’s it.” Eddie praises, feeling the body beneath him settle and sink a little lower into the couch. “Now, watch the movie.” Eddie instructs, jutting at the still playing screen with his chin. Steve laughs a bit, but obeys, turning his head to see what part they’d gotten up to. They’d missed a big chunk in their hug. Steve nearly apologises for it, the words on the tip of his tongue, before he decides Eddie might smack him for it.

So, he doesn’t. He watches the film, let’s the gentle touch of Eddie on his skin relax him til sleepiness starts to fill each of his limbs, heavy like lead. Eddie’s hand stops moving eventually, when his breath gets heavier, lulled by Steve’s scratch in his hair. A snore starts up, loud and quite frankly, annoying, and yet, Steve finds that with Eddie’s arms around him, he has no trouble finding sleep.

It’s the first time in years Steve’s fallen asleep in someone else’s arms. And even if he doesn't know it yet, it’s certainly not the last.

now with a part two!

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hoofpeet · 12 days

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This girl has so much problems

#hoof draws #deciding to use random ocs instead of my little sonas so that it doesn't feel weird when vent posts get like. fandomized #some posts need a degree of separation #should have known someone would ask me to tag vent posts. do not #also dont apologize for dumping in the tags! im not sensitive and its a lot more comforting to know other people get me here

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ruporas · 7 months

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happiness today and tomorrow (ID in alt)

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun maximum #trigun #ruporas art #hello here's another vw dump wraughh everyday i think about them being embarrassing infatuated w each other #it's like... at some point i must stop and look away... their love is too bright too dangerous.... but i will not... and neither will the #sidenote on the first comic - i drafted it bc im annoying about vash finding wolfwood lovely in simple ways but bc he's so restrained #in his thoughts those compliments dont usually come out. and when they do - bc he thinks about it so often - i think it'd come out bluntly #like. factual in tone as opposed to his inner deep exploding feelings about ww. only when he's pried deeper - prompted to expand #On these feelings does he get shy lmfao.... and bc it's simple complimentary words ww would take it casually in stride #dip him then call him cute and Maybe he'll get shy (pondering)#as u can see all i do is think about the fluff rn. tragedy where!

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ink--theory · 6 months

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hey bby wanna listen to my new mixtape.png

#I kinda gave up putting an effort on coloring this ngl LOL #esp the legs...DON'T LOOK AT THEM #ykw lemme just post this already b4 I change my mind and dump this in the hell that is my scraps folder #splatoon #callie cuttlefish #callie #acht #dedf1sh #dedlie #calf1sh #my art shit #and ofc as always feel free to use the lineart ver. for w/e

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wildflowercryptid · 7 months

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please enjoy my analysis of these two's dynamic bc i can't stop thinking about them.

bonus w/ their actual in-depth feelings on their dramatic ass divorce :

i also feel like i should clarify what i mean by "florian's main goal." in mjverse, (aka my interpretations of the game's universe,) florian & juliana are siblings and essentially act as co-protagonists. while juliana is the more talented battler of the two and ends up serving as the main protagonist of the victory road & starfall street storylines because of that, florian wants to become a pokémon professor so he focuses on helping out arven in the path of legends storyline while filling out the pokédex. the only reason why he's a competent trainer is so that he doesn't get completely bodied by wild pokémon in the midst of doing field research. and yes, knowing that probably ends up making kieran's complex about his own skills as a trainer even worse.

#NOT TO DUMP A BUNCH OF TEXT BUT UH. HERE.#hopefully this is still readable despite that ajshfj #i'm gonna schedule this so i might not be up when i goes up btw!#it's fun to draw these two i'm excited to do it more :)#btw yes florian still has a crush on kieran but it's.... complicated for obvious reasons #kieran had also started to develop a crush on florian but those feelings are kinda up in the air after everything that happened #(he'd definitely still say some shit that'd make carmine & the bb league go 🤨🏳️‍🌈❓ even while he's in his villain era tho)#okay i'm gonna shut up & go sleep bye bye #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pkmn scarvio #pokemon florian #trainer florian #pokemon kieran #rival kieran #tealmaskshipping #ship : florian & kieran #chara : florian russel cavallari #chara : kieran hinoki #mjverse #🎨 : mj draws #scarvio spoilers #sv dlc spoilers

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caelanglang · 1 year

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Shhhh…. They’re busy recharging and being in love

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damntheyare · 2 months

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Oough i just found your blog and,,,, thank you,,,, you fullfill my need for soft charlastor,,,,

If you still take requests consider: Alastor covered in lipstick marks and looking slightly ruffled, Charlie standing smugly by his side because she knows what she did akdkkaks

breaking news from hell: a sheep attacked a deer. no harm done

#“smugly”? are we talking about that girl who started to feel embarrassed #and blush when she found a random girl covered in blood and without an eye in a garbage dump?#charlastor #hazbin hotel

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solarisfortuneia · 2 months

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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.

and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.

✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)

✦ featuring: alhaitham.

✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.

✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)

he didn’t know that it was your last day together.

he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.

he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.

he didn’t think he’d lose you like this.

he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow.

“please, please,” he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.”

the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.

“wake up, please,” he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—” his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain.

desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray.

please, please tell me it’ll be okay.

please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time.

please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.

“— just wake up, beloved.”

by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere.

no. no. this can’t be happening.

he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.

“alhaitham—”

his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?

“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.”

those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.

i love you.

he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.

until he can’t smell camphor anymore.

—

every person has their curiosities.

they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.

for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.

after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?

alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things.

number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person.

he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.

and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away.

you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.

you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.

‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”

alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.

and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’

“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.”

“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”

“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”

those five more minutes were never five minutes long.

but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.

—

alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play.

“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,

i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!

oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,

wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”

you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.

loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.

but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones.

a wish that you’d come back, somehow.

he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did. but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you.

a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.

he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.

“alhaitham, it's time to go.” kaveh calls his name softly.

alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,” he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.”

✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?

that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this

when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.

thanks for reading.

#—🖋#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#astronetwrk #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #emotional blabbering ahead in the tags beware #this is hitting me in a place i didn't know existed hjsjs #like. i haven't lost anyone but i have lost my life as i know it?#this past year was full of so many endings and i've been struggling in some way everyday #like i didn't know that the last time i saw my friends would truly be the last time we ever saw each other #i didn't know that i'd be bidding goodbye to my parents as i left home through an airport #ANYWAY ENOUGH DUMPING. ig i'm just telling you to hug the people you love tighter and cherish every moment you spend with them #time goes by really quickly and you don't know where it'll go #ily guys #ew barf feelings </3 /j

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