#cw madness

[celestiall0tus]

Mental Health May - Mayura/Nathalie Sancoeur - Bloody Bug

My fault is done, the story is lost.

            History always captivated me. Not the discovered, mundane history of recent centuries. No. It was the history lost to the ages. Lost before we as humans recorded it. Lost in the dark, never to see the light of day. It was this history that drove me. It was this mystery that consumed me.

            I studied for years. I dived into every myth, every story, everything I could. I longed to find truths in fiction of the past. I longed to discover something lost to the ages. In these studies, I found stories of tiny, mythical creatures with almost godlike powers. They were scattered through mythologies, tied into the tales of heroes and even villains. I chased this thread for years. I built my life on uncovering it. I pitched it to any who would listen. And every time, I was dismissed for chasing a fool’s dream. Until another fool heard me.

            Gabriel Agreste. A name I knew, but nothing more. Whispered among those in the Paris fashion scene. I was quick to dismiss him, but his fortune tempted me. With him, I could secure funding. I could set out on an expedition. I could find the proof I needed. To my own surprise, he wanted one of these godlike creatures. He shared with me a copy of a book he couldn’t translate. A book that cemented my research. Detailing each hero and villain that used these creatures, and about the creatures themselves. And he wanted me to find the one that was a flamboyant peacock. One that could allow him to create a child for him and his wife.

            I accepted. With his funding, I lead us on expeditions to find this jewel. These journeys lead us to an area in Tibet. Lost to the ages, we found what we searched for. A brooch designed like a peacock tail. With it found, we headed home. I documented it, studied it, and discovered a crack on the brooch. I warned Gabriel of this, but he didn’t hear me. Once we were back. I prepared my leave and my research. On the day I was to leave, I found my entire life’s work destroyed and the brooch stolen.

            Despair consumed me. I rushed to the Agreste estate, but Gabriel refused to see me. I was blocked, thwarted, and tossed out. I returned to my home with nothing to show for a lifetime worth of research. Nothing to show the proof that I found something lost to the ages. Lost to the times before recorded human history. I slipped into a terrible depression.

            For years I stumbled around in a stupor. Every moment a blur. Until I found myself at the Louvre. I was finding comfort in the history around me when she approached me. A woman with fiery red hair and blazing blue eyes. In the fire of her eyes, I saw sorrow and concern for a stranger. She sat with me. Talked with me. In time, I shared my research, and what became of it. Next time I saw her, she shared news of funding from the museum. How her husband secured some funding as the director of the Louvre. A blessing I could never repay.

            I was careful this time. I went on the expeditions alone. I searched everywhere until I discovered a box of unknown origin and material. It took ages to pry it open, but once I did, I found records. Millennia ago that spoke of Eden, a paradise for the earliest of mankind. Led by their leaders Adam, and his wife, Eve, in service of their god, Velze. A tragedy was detailed, but most details had been torn from the records. I gathered that Velze was lost, split into the creatures called kwamis. Amongst these records were accounts that differed from the book Gabriel once showed me.

            The records shared all research into the kwamis. Their powers, their concepts they manifested as, the jewels they carried, and even how to alter and repair the jewels. Amongst the records were ancient tools with manuals how to use them. I took these back as proof of my discoveries, but I was too late.

            Josephine Kubdel. My angel. My saving grace. Your light that guided me, gone from the world. I grieved your death just as your family did. I regretted I couldn’t have shown you before you were taken from us. I shared it with your husband, Alim, but it felt hollow. It was you that believed in me. It was you that helped me. Without you, it felt empty.

            I took my findings and fell back into darkness. I studied and tried to find what I could to make it all worthwhile. I tried to find evidence that would lead me to more. To make everything you did worth more. I had to find more. I had to do more. Until opportunity rose.

            A decade after Gabriel cut me out, he contacted me. He begged me to help find a solution to his wife’s illness. One caused by using a broken miraculous. One that I had warned him could possibly happen. But I still took it. Funding from him again meant new expeditions. I could use what he gave me to make Josephine’s investment in me truly pay off. For me to live up to my dream. To carve my name into history. For me to repay all she did for me.

            I went on expeditions again back to the area of Tibet. Not far from where we discovered the peacock jewel, I discovered the butterfly brooch. I returned with it and shared what it could do. Gabriel was unconvinced until Emilie passed. He grieved for a year. In his grief, he tossed out the peacock brooch that he once kept safe.

            I struck while the iron was hot. I rescued the brooch and brought it home. I repaired the break in it. I worked to restore the brooch and its kwami to how they were detailed in the records of old. All while I convinced Gabriel to use the butterfly. To cause terror and panic to draw out the greatest of jewels used to quell chaos: the Ladybug and the Black Cat.

            I waited, and in time, they came. A young woman with the ladybug and a young man with the black cat. I watched while they battled Gabriel’s pathetic little monsters. All while I learned from the peacock kwami, Duusu. I learned of the past. I documented new records. Added to old ones. I dared not leave anything out. It filled me with a new purpose hearing the woes of the past.

            The kwamis were meant to be gods. They were born from the greatest, Velze. I longed to see Velze in his entirety, but to do so would mean I had to collect all the kwamis. I had to fuse them back together. But if I did, I could undo the destruction of Eden. I could right an ancient wrong. I could usher in a new age. The possibilities were endless.

            Time had come. I bore Duusu and became Mayura. I reveled in the power of him. I lorded it over the meager holders using inhibited jewels. I targeted Adrien to make Gabriel squirm. I destroyed Gabriel’s life as he once destroyed mine. I learned the identities of the holders in time. And to my horror and surprise, Josephine’s daughter, Alix Kubdel, held the ladybug. The ember of Josephine’s legacy.

            I tried to connect. I wanted Alix to see the truth. I wanted her to understand more than anyone. Just as Josephine did, I wanted, needed, Alix to understand. I hoped she did. I hoped more than anything. I just never would find out.

            I convinced the young heroes to go back into time. I convinced them to see the truth in its truest, purest form. I hoped this would help. Maybe it did. But while they learned, I battled. In my possession was five kwamis. Five was all I needed. And the five I made one as I fused them all into a piece of the Amalgamation himself: Velze.

            Haze shrouded my mind. I struggled against the haze as my body moved in wild, erratic ways. I lost pieces of the five and returned to normal. I found the heroes until their black cat, until Adrien, used the power of destruction on Duusu.

            Everything was dark. My body moved. The only thought was my legacy. I didn’t want to die yet. I hadn’t achieved what I wanted. When a maddened thought consumed me. Nathalie Sancoeur would die, lost to the ages with the rest of history. But Mayura would be torched into history.

            In this madness, I consumed Duusu to ascend if only to buy a little more time. When heroes came for their villain, I unleashed everything I had left. I would go out on my terms. I would make history.

[antlersish]

Mad about politics again

[psychotic-tbh]

Stop saying…

“Psychotic/Schizophrenic” when you mean: unpredictable, unhinged, unreal, etc.

“Bipolar” when you mean: polarized, scattered, fickle, unstable, etc.

“Delusional” when you mean: unrealistic, unreasonable, close-minded, stubborn, etc.

“[insert “R” slur in relation to intellectual disabilities]” when you mean: unreasonable, unintelligent/ridiculous, immature, etc.

“OCD” when you mean: particular, neat, overbearing, etc.

“Narcissistic” when you mean selfish, abusive, manipulative, etc.

Note: I’m NOT saying that these are synonymous. This is also not an exhaustive list.

[overlymetaromantic]

Dungeon Meshi, or as I like to call it, Marcille's-increasingly-difficult-to-ignore-revelations-that-her-endless-devotion-to-Falin-may-in-fact-be-more-rooted-in-lesbianism-than-she-originally-thought

[zubzooks]

this is basically bad touch quest right

bonus:

[sodi-yum]

Don’t remember these from the Pony Express First Aid Guide…

- Came across the 1943 first aid image while doomscrolling yesterday and had to draw it. I will be returning to requests soon!

[neonxdecay]

It's been requested by a lot of people at cons, so I finally painted a Hannibal to match my very old Will painting. Here they are together!

[yellowvixen]

week 42: she's back!!!

this is a dtiys btw, i hit some follower milestones recently :]

also a version with a simpler background so you can actually see her design lmao

[causticflower]

can someone check on this man

[ricecaqes]

whatever . go my act 5 siffrin

[six-demon-bag]

They say cats have nine lives. Will one of them be yours?

MONTY as best kitty STRAYS (1991) dir. John McPherson

[tuherrus]

big alice

[antlersish]

Based on a suggestion from the last piece I drew! Free to use, same for my last piece!!

[fassina]

It’s mental health awareness week and I’m like. What do we even say at this point dawg.

Young people are using AI chatbots instead of therapists, chatbots that are designed to please the user and can give dangerous advice to those in crisis with its design for positive reinforcement. And they’re doing it because how on earth is somebody at the lowest ebb gonna be able to afford £80-£100 at least once a week, even though therapists absolutely need to charge a living wage. Crisis cafes are being slashed, accute support decimated. We’re all surveyed so much and digital footprints are so invasive that nobody can be honest about how they’re feeling anymore. “Therapy speak” means things are being pathologised and conditions like NPD, OCD and BPD are being horrendously mislabeled which means people are missing the signs that could get them treatment. If they can get through the waiting lists. Eating disorders are in vogue again. Vulnerable people are being targeted by policies that will caused complex sustained trauma.

I dunno. Just maybe be kind to people near you. Don’t be overly anxious about how you’re perceived if you reach out to people with kindness. Allow people to be human, messy, flawed. Lead with care.

[eepyisy]

Madness Combat?

[big-bad-aud-999]

that one was supposed to have a second matching drawing but i never drew it lol