androgynousshiver

[androgynousshiver]

Who knows how much longer I'll lay on the floor

Touch me till I vomit

I'm not scared of god, I'm scared he was gone all along

[androgynousshiver]

Mix up

[androgynousshiver]

POV: You saw Zayne again for the first time in a long time after he left you alone in that cemetery.

Zayne in kdrama is my favorite au.

I had to put the effects and sponsors in the end. (Though I tweaked the logo a little cause I don't want to get in trouble. But I'm sure it's obvious that it's just for the meme. 😂)

[androgynousshiver]

[androgynousshiver]

I want to start a parasitology yt channel where my sona is a Taenia called Tanya.. can anyone ever match my freak

[androgynousshiver]

save a cow ride a boy or what um save a uh ride a horse no its save a uhh guys who we saving

[androgynousshiver]

When i try to remember She-ra the only thing that comes to my mind is that scorpion and how catra was a bitch to her, but the overall plot? Idk gay princesses in space I think

[androgynousshiver]

Imagine being Caleb's non-mc significant other. part3

Imagine the way Caleb stopped sleeping in beds. It was too soft. Too still. Too big. He found himself on floor, against the walls or sometimes on an old couch with springs that dug into his spine. He stopped drawing the curtains. He didn't want the dark anymore neither did he want the light either. He just wanted nothing. In the morning, if he could still call them that, he would sat on the kitchen floor with a cold cup of something he never finished. And sometimes he talked to no one in particular. Just words, soft and broken coming out of his mouth. "I'm sorry." He would say. "I'm so so sorry." Because that is all he had left now, words that didn't matter, and time he couldn't spend with you.

Imagine the way he became cold. Not cruel.. just quiet in a way that people get when they're trying not to fall apart. Caleb started turning his mirrors around. He didn't like what he saw. Not just the tired eyes or the cracked lips, or the weight loss. But the look in his face that said. 'I did this. I let this happen.' He barely spoke unless he had to. He only smiled when it made other people feel better. He kept your name locked behind his teeth because every time he said it out loud, it made you more real. More gone.

Imagine the apartment was gone. It was reduced into nothing but ash but in his mind, it was still full. Full of your scent, full of your laugh echoing down the hallway, your humming from the kitchen even though you thought he wasn't listening. In his mind, your sweater was still draped over the back of a chair. Your silly collections on top of the cabinet still lies in there. Everything was still there... in memory. But memory is cruel. It doesn't keep him warm.

Imagine he would stood where the front door used to be. He imagined you fumbling with your keys, holding your phone in the other hand. He imagined your tired smile after a long day. He imagined that final moment, the second before the blast. Alone. Scared. Thinking he had chosen someone else over you. The way he dropped on his knees on that sidewalk, screaming for your name like it would matter. Like you might hear it somehow. Like it would rewind the clock. But the world just kept going. Cars passed. People talked. A dog barked. And Caleb sat there in the rain. With the colorless world buzzing around him, trying to figure out how to keep breathing when the very reason for it had been turned to ash.

Imagine there was no funeral. Not one he could attend, anyway. He stood from a distance, dressed in clothes that no longer fit him the same. And when they lowered you into the ground, the only thing he could think was, You had died thinking he didn't choose you. And that thought became his prison.

Imagine the grief didn't sit quietly with Caleb. It screamed, it bled into every bit of his bones, carved into his muscles and made a home in his throat. People tried. Pips, MC tried. A few old friends. They sent messages, knocked on doors, left food, sat beside him without speaking. But none of it reached him. He wasn't there. Not anymore. He had gone down with the fire. Caleb wasn't angry at the people who did it, not really. It is just that it would require energy. Hope and maybe even vengeance. But all he had was this heavy, dead weight where his heart used to be. They said grief is a process. Not for him.

Imagine his grief was not a wound that was forgotten over and healed with time. His was a decision. A stone. Something he placed at the bottom of his soul and built his new life around. Grief wasn't leaving. It was him now.

Imagine years passed. Seasons changed. The world kept turning, as it always does. He went back to work, trained new recruits, took missions. He comes back, breathed and slept when he could. Ate, when he remembered. He functioned but he wasn't living. He moved like a man underwater, everything muffled, slow, cold. He visited your grave once a year. Same day, same hour, same flowers, same path. Every year he stood in front of your name and imagined what could have been. How you would have aged, how your voice might have changed, how many more hours he could have memorized your face if only he had stayed.

Imagine the way his hands do not shake in missions. He wasn't reckless, he doesn't want to die, not really. But he didn't care if he did. MC noticed. She didn't say anything for a long time, but she saw it in his face. The way he didn't duck as fast, the way his reflexes were dulled, like he was living underwater. Like pain didn't scare him anymore. Like consequences were someone else problem. And then one night he finally told her without warning.

"They died thinking I chose you." MC’s breath hitched. "They didn't know." He wanted to cry, really. But at the same time, he doesn't know how. "About the threat. I told them it was you… I didn’t explain. I didn’t stay. I thought I was saving them." He looked at his hands and flexed them like he couldn't remember how they were supposed to feel. "They died thinking I left them again." MC cried for him. And he didn't.

Imagine Caleb, he never fell in love again. He didn't even try. Women smiled. Men lingered. But Caleb never reached back. He never leaned in. He never looked too long. He did not have anything left to give. Everything that once lived inside him, the laughter, the gentleness, the clumsy warmth. All of it had been burned away. People asked him once in passing if he was seeing anyone.

"No." He replied. "I don't think I can love again." It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't sad. It was just true. You were it, you were the love story. The first chapter, the middle, the end. And now, there were no more pages to turn.

Imagine Caleb was never the same again. He stopped talking about you but you were in everything. The way he tied his boots. The songs he skipped. The movies he couldn't watch. The way he smiled politely at joy but never let it all the way in. He kept you close, but hidden like a secret he didn't want to heal from. And maybe that's how love lives, when the person is gone. Not in photos or keepsakes, or places but in the habits you never unlearn. In the pain you don't ask to be free from.

Imagine Caleb did not believe in happy endings anymore. He believed in you. In that movie night. In your trembling voice. In the way you held his hand even when it hurt. In your laugh when you were tired. In your humming in the kitchen. In the way you looked at him like he wasn't broken. That was what he carried. That, and the weight of everything unsaid. There was no healing for him. No sudden realization that life must go on. Caleb never truly returned. Because you were the return point. You were the home he was always trying to get back to. And the moment you were gone, the map disappeared.

Imagine he never moved on. He never wanted to. Because in the end, Caleb accepted that you would never come back and that he would never be whole again. But he also accepted that it was worth it. That loving you, even for a moment, had been enough even if it killed him slowly. Even if it burned everything else away. Even if he died with that love, quiet and buried and unspoken, still holding your name in the dark. Because you were the only one and he would carry you always. In grief. In silence. In peace.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: i never thought expanding my vocabulary after the grammar police would lead me quite poetic. So wtf.

: i finish this tonight, I'll have the rest of the boys queued so XD don't come after me. *peace out*

[androgynousshiver]

I assure you: somebody, somewhere, is on the exact same wavelength as you are.

[androgynousshiver]

I met a wolf in the field today

[androgynousshiver]

Two types of people after the announcement

[androgynousshiver]

Quick sketch i did with some friends ^^ happy pride

[androgynousshiver]

Which option should I choose?

[androgynousshiver]

THE DRAGON & THE SORCERER. having a go at @two-bees-poetry's wonderful contrapuntal form

[androgynousshiver]

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Which brings me to the reason I'm making this post. Mynoise is curated and maintained by a single person:

Please check out the Mynoise Index for yourself, donate if you can, and tell your friends who might be interested ♡

[androgynousshiver]

huge fan of whatever they r doing on rednote

[androgynousshiver]

Durgeheart comic based on my fic with a bit of hint on the aftermath of Act 3’s swimming lessons with Shadowheart. 😉 I was hesitant in posting this initially but I thought that I posted worse back then haha.

On other news, can you help a girl out with the required 100 likes and 5 comments for Vgen artists? Was looking into opening an artist account there, to expand my art commission offerings so yeah, it would be very cool if you can vouch for me.

I'm currently in there now with my link being VGen.co/vireja