#THE ANGST IS SO SO SAD. BUT SO SO GOOD

[kitamars]

enmi gintoki…………… orz

[generalherasyndulla]

How about that season 2 finale y'all???

[seaweedraindraws]

I was saving this for my fanfic but I liked the idea so much I had to draw it!

Bonus:

Here is a link to the fic this scene is from! (Only chapter 1 is up, so this scene has not yet happened)

[krissis-averted]

Mirage

[rayroseu]

I know its been said that Lilia likes acting cheerful despite his nearing death because he doesn't want to look weak. But, I think the undertone of his reasoning is he doesn't want to spend his last days in tragedy and sadness so he copes it with being happy as much as he can.😭

Isn't that a more obvious behavior especially now that we know that Lilia's life only has been happy for the last 2 decades, or less. I'm saying that because I feel like the years where Malleus grows up was depressing too because he was badly excluded and only recently, in NRC, did he finally have "a group of people to be a part of with freely"

I feel like this is more like an understandable reason why he wants to go away as "he can still smile and act happy" before his age deteriorates him up, and makes him "look lifeless" to his family.

Rather than making Silver and Malleus remember his death, I think his version of a happy ending was that party where they'll all have fun together. I think Lilia wants them to remember *his happiness* the most. Because Lilia's life has mostly been a tragedy, and I don't think he wishes even after his death, that he would still be a "tragic person".

I feel like his line about "not wanting Malleus to be a hero of a fairy tale" reflects that. Because he did experience being the "hero of a fairytale". He saved Malleus from being killed and dying. He is, in the story, the rightful hero of Briar Valley.

TWST has always told that heroes in this world are perfect individuals with perfect morals and life, but Lilia as a hero, added more depth towards the concept of heroes in TWST...

To be a hero, you need to be facing the story's conflicts, you have to sacrifice a lot, and be in pain for doing the right thing just for you to "have something to be victorious over."

And, I feel like that's a nice parallel to the theme that "villains are people that can be redeemed/grow up even if they're messed up". Its like saying everyone struggles even if you're a hero or a villain, like there's never a perfect role or a perfect world where there's no sadness.... 😭

also, I know Lilia mostly said that line about "heroes in fairytales" because he wants Malleus not to die forgotten like Meleanor and Levan, but its GETS ME knowing he said that as well because he doesn't want to see Malleus in any kind of pain😭

[mintjeru]

(not ship)

the way i was like “don’t expect much art from me for a while!” and then go and do something like this 😐

open for better quality | no reposts | ID under the cut

[Image description: A four page comic detailing Kaeya’s Hidden Strife event dialogue with Adelinde and his strained relationship with Diluc.

A box on the first page states, “Hidden Strife event final day”. Adelinde explains with her head bowed politely, “I’m sorry, Captain Kaeya, but the Dawn Winery is having a fire safety inspection today. You’ll have to come back another day.” Kaeya averts his eyes with a concerned expression.

On the second page, Kaeya forces a smile. He starts: “Haha... seriously, shouldn’t you at least ask me to stay for din- -ner?”. He sees something in the distance and his eyes widen in shock.

The third page depicts Aether and Paimon running out of the manor. “Come on!” Paimon exclaims. “Diluc is waiting for us at Falcon Coast!” Kaeya and Adelinde can be seen in the background.

The fourth page starts with a flashback to a scene in Angel’s Share during Diluc’s Noctua: Chapter 1 story quest. Kaeya recalls telling him, “I feel strangely comforted by the fact that you now have an assistant, Diluc.” “I just wish,” he thinks to himself, “it could have been me standing by your side again.” At the bottom of the page, a young Diluc and Kaeya dressed in their Knights of Favonius uniforms laugh together. Kaeya has a hand on Diluc’s shoulder. Diluc has an arm slung over Kaeya’s shoulder and bends over slightly as he laughs.]

[coladaminx]

(ง︡'-'︠)ง I’m ready to fight whoever deprived this man of his childhood

[morganbritton132]

Steve didn’t want a dog.

The seizures started not long after they officially slammed the gate shut on the Upside Down, but it was suspected that they were probably happening before that. It’s subtle for the most part. It takes a while before anybody notices the shifting behind the eyes, the confusion, the dull drag that sinks into Steve’s body and tightens everything up.

They call them absence seizures. And then when Steve convulsed on the Family Video carpet, they say grand mal. They say brain damage and likely permanent, and it’s scary.

It is always scary when Steve’s brain betrays him, when his memory slips and his body fails, and Eddie knows that it’s frustrating. He knows that Steve hates it. He’s been on the opposite end of Steve’s mood swings, of the tears and the anger at going from a kid with no adult supervision to an adult that can’t drive their own car anymore.

He knows the fear that creeps into Steve’s voice through the phoneline when he’s somewhere he doesn’t recognize and doesn’t remember how he got there because Eddie is there. He is on the other end of the line. He is there for the confusion, for the messy emotions, for every breakdown and the attempted break up and Steve saying that he was holding Eddie back when all he ever did was keep Eddie together.

But it is scary.

It is so fucking scary every time that Eddie sits and waits by Steve’s side for him to come back to himself, fearing – always fearing that there might come a day that he doesn’t. But it’s scarier when he’s not there.

Steve does not want a dog.

The first time Eddie brought up a service animal, there are three adult men living in Wayne’s trailer. He’s flipping through a magazine and Steve says no. He says that they can’t afford a dog, much less a service animal and no, Steve would not ask his parents about it. He was lucky enough that they let him stay on their insurance after they kicked him out.

The second time Eddie brought it up, there is money. There is money for a trailer of their own. There’s money for Steve to go to school. There’s a label that signed them and talks of a nation-wide tour, and there’s a song on the radio, and Steve says no. Steve says that it’s unnecessary. He says that he’ll move in with Robin and Nancy while Eddie tours. That it’s okay.

The third time, they have an apartment of their own. Eddie has more money than he’ll ever know what to do with and Steve says no. He’s teaching first grade and he’s happy all the time, and he tells Eddie no. He says that it’s an almost invisible disorder and that sometimes he can pretend that it doesn’t exist. He says he can pretend that none of the bad stuff ever happened, and if he has a dog then it’s just a neon sign that says he’s got his head cracked open. He says people treat him like he’s something that can break when they know, and he hates it. He says it's like they’re all waiting for him to shake apart.

The fourth time – the medicine change, the overnight at the hospital – Steve doesn’t let Eddie get the words out of his mouth. He’s upset and he thinks that no one listens to him, and he says no. He says when he thinks about dogs than he thinks about dark nights, and the junk yard, and the creatures that weren’t dogs but kind of were, and he doesn’t want to be there anymore. They closed the gate. It’s not fair that the Upside Down still lives inside him.

Eddie does not bring it up again.

It doesn’t matter anyways.

It’s been years. They built a system. There are still seizures, still dissociative episodes and sleepwalking, and still the rare but terrifying grand mal seizures that sits like Chrissy Cunningham cracking to pieces in Eddie’s chest. There are appointments and medication, but there is family and friends, and they take the precautions they know to take and learn to take more. And it works.

It works until it doesn’t.

Corroded Coffins’ popularity started to drop off in the early 2000s. They don’t tour too much anymore, but sometimes Eddie leaves for a week to play a couple shows out of town and that was what he was doing four years ago. Neither of them think about Robin visiting her parents or the research position that took Dustin all over the world, or that half of their friends have moved out of the state. They say their goodbyes and they kiss each other, and Eddie comes home to blood tacky in the carpet.

He came home to Steve at the bottom of the stairs after having a seizure and falling, bleeding and in pain, unable to move and calling for a help no one can hear for three days. They have a system, but there are cracks big enough to fall through. Steve may not want a dog and maybe it isn’t what he needs, but it’s the only thing Eddie knows to ask about.

Eddie asks again for the first time in years, sitting next to him in the hospital. Steve says yes with bruises on his face and taste of a concussion on his tongue, and they get a well-trained dog with light fur that Steve names Ozzy.

Eddie feels for the first time in years like he can take a full breath, a little more of his fear slipping away.

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[sentientsky]

“Belovéd,” Yves Olade

[hypostatic-oath]

Tales Of Meropide

SAGAU!Tartaglia-centered, angst with some comfort.

Warnings: Swearing. I think it's just one but I'm not entirely sure. Written before 4.2, but finished after 4.1 - contains spoilers for the released story quest so far.

_________________

Childe had never once in his life assumed jail would be fun. He had no delusions in that regard. But he had to admit, his hopes were raised once he heard of the Pankration Ring in the Fortress of Meropide. A competition ring for those who had "extra energy" they wished to "burn out" through regular sparring matches? Sign him up!

His hopes were very quickly shattered once he was told that no, a Fatui Harbinger was not allowed to compete, because "no way anyone would sign up to fight him" and "even if he did fight with one hand behind his back, that would set the bar too high for the other matches, and the spectators would be bored." Damn it - so the ring wasn't truly for fight afficionados - it was a marketing ploy! The fight itself wasn't the focus, it was the fact that it had to look good for an audience.

Childe huffed as he sat in the bed he'd taken to occupying. Fontaine was getting on his nerves - it seemed as though everything was for show, and very little was actually real. Where were the Traveler or the Overseer when one needed them?! Oh, what he wouldn't do to fight against a decent opponent!

His boredom was made worse by the fact that the Overseer - damn them and their excuse of "immersion" - had decided to bench him until he was out of prison. So now he rusted away in the Fortress of Meropide, with no one to fight, no one to banter with...

He could try the Duke again, he figured. While at first things hadn't gone his way, after explaining his issue, Wriothesley had, once or twice, been amenable to a sparring match, and it was the one thing keeping Tartaglia remotely sane. But lately the warden had been more and more busy - and less and less inclined to indulge the restless Harbinger. Were it not for the fact that he already had an escape plan in the works, Childe was sure he would have lost his mind for real. He was getting rusty. Every day that he did not raise his weapon was one day he grew weaker, and that the competition grew stronger. And he knew he had competition, both among the Fatui - how he was the Eleventh of a group of nine still eluded him - and among the other vessels.

It had hurt, the knowledge that right after his banner would come that of the Iudex who'd promptly knocked him out and sent him to jail... and that he wasn't even there to fight him about it! He hadn't been aware of the sheer strength of Fontaine's Chief Justice, but now that he'd caught a glimpse, Childe had to admit he was intrigued. And by intrigued let it be absolutely clear that what he meant was "eager to fight him again". Hell, the judge had managed to knock him out while he was using Foul Legacy! What else was this Neuvillette guy capable of? And, more importantly... had you noticed?

It was a thought Ajax didn't like to have. One he'd been trying to drown out - hah! Drown! Now that his hydro Vision was gone, and Neuvillette was out there using hydro as he pleased - since he'd first been told he wouldn't be able to fight down here. And yet, now that the Fortress had quieted down for the night, there was no sound to overpower his own thoughts.

The thoughts of being replaced. The thoughts that told him he was no longer enough. He was growing weaker, even before being arrested. His Vision had failed him. And now, how convenient - an insanely strong Hydro user was available. It didn't matter whether or not you'd pulled on Childe's banner earlier - he knew you needed strong members on your team, and at this rate he'd be no match for Neuvillette. Not in a fight, and not in your team. What was he supposed to do without it?! The worst of all was the nagging feeling that you'd grown used to not having him with you already. He'd been imprisoned for a while now, and not a peep from you. Not for the Abyss, not for Ley Lines, not for Domains, not even for Commissions.

He missed it.

He missed you.

Childe laid down on the bed - which was only slightly less uncomfortable than the slab of rock he used to sleep on during hos months in the Abyss - and turned to face the brass wall, his fingers absentmindedly tracing along his Delusion.

If only he could use it while you were taking hold of him - if only he could use his Foul Legacy transformation, too. He had developed (and tested) the theory that due to your influence, these things would have almost to no toll on his body. That was, apparently, part of the unspoken contract between an Overseer and their Vessels - not only would they become stronger, but their injuries and exhaustion would be your responsibility instead of theirs. For Childe, it was the perfect deal, lending you control of his body to fight all kinds of opponents and having his strength increase a hundredfold. Except for the part that, try as he might - and most importantly, try as you might - it was impossible for him to use his Delusion, or his Foul Legacy transformation, or, much to your chagrin, his signature "whale toss".

Ah, yes. That had been another issue.

Ever since he'd gotten to the Fortress, he'd seen it.

In dreams, in flashes during the day, hell, he was even hearing it, its song echoing through the brass walls. And yet, no one else seemed to be able to. That in itself was a sign - this was indeed the one he'd roused from slumber... and it was beckoning him to answer its calls.

He closed his eyes. Perhaps tonight's dream would provide more insight. He'd seek it out as soon as he managed to leave, he just had to wait for a pipe cleaning day in order to make his escape. For now, though, all he could do was wait, as time passed agonizingly slow. And so, lulled by boredom and whalesong, he forced himself to sleep it off.

_________

You were getting impatient.

You'd decided to give storyline immersion a try once Childe was arrested, thinking that it'd be pretty weird for the recently arrested Harbinger to be roaming the streets of Fontaine - and you'd been doing a lot of roaming recently, having a whole new nation to explore. By now, you were aware that your game was responsive to you, and that had been a big reason why you'd made that decision, knowing that they were aware of what you did. You did not want to stir up trouble with Neuvillette or Wriothesley... not when they hadn't come home yet. It was best to play to their interests a little bit. However... this was getting ridiculous.

"We're gonna have to break him out at this rate." You huffed, as you picked up yet another Romaritime flower. As usual, the members of your party who hadn't been so used to you seemed a little startled at hearing your voice, while the Traveler and Paimon were far more relaxed. You supposed it made sense - if a disembodied voice started talking about jailbreak out of nowhere, you'd probably be pretty spooked too.

"But, Overseer..." Paimon began. "If we break him out of jail, won't people notice he's missing? And you still want to get Monsieur Neuvillette as soon as his banner drops - are you sure we should interfere with justice right now?"

"Neuvillette will come whether he likes it or not." You said, a steely determination in your voice. You'd meant nothing threatening by it, only that he was guaranteed and near pity, but it still sent a chill down the most inexperienced members of your team's spines. "Besides, I'm pretty sure that's what the next Archon Quest will be - break Childe out of jail. He's gonna come home with us, and everything will be okay. So it shouldn't really matter... if we give him a taste of freedom early, now does it?"

"I suppose it's alright." The Traveler chimed in. They were still the vessel who was more in tune with your emotions after all these years together, and thst could be both a blessing and a curse. Now, what they felt was your eagerness to see Childe again... and concern.

You were worried about him.

With a few clicks, you opened the map. Were it anyone else, you would've teleported to somewhere nice. Maybe Angel's Share, or Liuli Pavilion, or any of the many other restaurants and cafés that dotted the regions of Teyvat that had opened themselves to you.

But you knew that after being stuck for so long, your Tartaglia would need something more than a simple apology meal.

__________

The Golden house. Of course his dreams would take him there - he'd fallen asleep to thoughts of you. It was a respite from the other ones, but pleasant as dreams of fighting may be, they had about the same effect as dreams of a feast to a starving man. No matter how much he fought, he'd still wake up feeling empty.

"What's the matter with you? No 'Surrender is a valid option' today?" Your voice rang out. Oh, yeah. He'd forgotten his usual taunt... did it matter, in a dream? Apparently it did, because you'd commented on it. Still, he wasn't sure if he felt like going along with it. Why would it matter? It wasn't real. He'd likely never see you again, and his stupid dream was only making things worse.

"You seem out of it. Childe." The Traveler stood before him as you spoke, their weapon lowered but still unsheated. "Maybe prison put you in a worse shape than I thought... oh, I'm going to kill them. I don't care. Traveler, we're going to take this man out of there."

"Paimon's pretty sure that's illegal..."

"Illegal? Look at what they've done to him! They massacred my boy! He has no will to live!"

Tartaglia watched as you spoke with the Traveler and Paimon. It wasn't often that he got to witness such direct interactions, and he had to admit, it was a little bit funny seeing the blonde outlander and his companion arguing with the air. They usually faced the direction opposite of where Paimon hovered - mostly so the poor guide didn't feel like they were arguing with her instead - but it still looked as though the Traveler were speaking to absolutely nothing.

Even though he was sure this was a dream - of course it was, after all, you bringing him for a fight now, and within a few seconds immediately deciding to break him out and go on a murder spree for his sake? Tartaglia could recognize his own wishful thinking - the image brought a smile to his face.

"What have they done to you?" You asked, addressing him directly once more. "How bad is it? Are you eating enough? Are you eating at all? Are you sick? Bastards..."

Concern. He could almost feel your warmth. He had to remind himself that it wasn't real. He had to remind himself that, in the real world, in the waking world, he was still in bed. That you, powerful entity that you were, could pull him out any time, and yet you hadn't.

He'd started thinking this was just like last time. Just like in the Abyss.

At first, he'd wanted his parents to come looking for him. He'd wanted them to notice he was gone, and many a night had he dreamt of them finding him. Then came his master, and with her, he held even less delusions that she'd come to his aid. And then, he'd joined the Fatui, and there it was set in stone that comrades as they may be, there'd be no help whatsoever, so he might as well give up hope.

He still dreamt it, sometimes. That someday there'd be someone to reach out a hand, someone who'd give him a bright smile when he was at his worst and help him stand, so they could take on the world together. He still dreamt that for once, just once, someone would care enough to help.

But nobody came.

He needed to be strong. He loved being strong, he loved fighting. Which was a good thing, he'd many times surmised, since it was the only thing the world needed him to do. You win the fight, you live. That was that, and it was all it had ever been and all it ever would be.

There'd be no parents looking for him. No Skirk coming in at the last minute to parry the blow. No comrades to call upon. No Overseer willing to go on a murder spree to take him out of jail.

The truth, the cold truth, was nothing like the warm dreams where someone came to his aid. The truth was that once again, he'd have to break out alone.

All he could do for now was enjoy the opportunity to fight "you", even if just in a dream, so he took a deep, shaky breath, and got ready to spar.

_________

You wondered if he knew he was crying.

It didn't last too long. You quickly opted out of the Golden House - you'd clearly overestimated his will to fight. Even as he stood at the ready, you could see the changes in his demeanor. Maybe you should've gone with Angel's Share after all.

You emptied your party - save for the Traveler - and placed Childe on one of the empty slots. Then, you quickly teleported the three of them (because the Traveler always counted as two, with Paimon beside them all the time) to your teapot. It was clear Childe needed more than just an apology fight.

"Traveler, do me a favor." You asked, once the loading screen was out of the way. "Could you get some food started, please?"

That should give you a little alone time with the Harbinger. Maybe it'd be easier, you figured, to coax information on his wellbeing if you were alone.

As the Traveller nodded and went to handle the cooking at a nearby stove, you switched to Tartaglia. It was a little odd now, controlling them when you knew they were aware of your existence. The vast majority didn't seem to mind, and you took some comfort in how responsive and talkative they were - at least you weren't some malevolent, brainwashing eldritch entity. Your characters - erm, Vessels, as they preferred to call it - seemed fine.

Childe, however, didn't.

"Hey. Ajax." You made sure to keep your voice softer than usual as you guided him towards the hot springs, sitting him down. "I'm sorry. I genuinely thought we'd get to break you out sooner."

For a while, he didn't answer.

You placed the cursor over his shoulder. By now, you knew they could feel a sort of phantom touch, and it was the closest thing you could do to offer a comforting hand.

"Whatever they did to you ends now. I'm hereby overruling your sentence. You're staying here while I'm logged off until the Traveler and I resolve this, and when I'm around, you're back on the team."

You could see Childe trying to look at you, so you did him the favor of turning the camera in such a way that it looked as though you were sitting beside him.

"Over here."

He couldn't see your expression, but you still hoped he could somehow hear the way you felt through your voice. Oh, how you wanted to be able to reach him.

Tartaglia looked in the vague direction of you, and you wished you had a way to cup his cheek and wipe away the tears threatening to spill from those lifeless eyes. You moved the cursor to rest over his pinky finger - this was the closest thing you could do to a pinky promise, after all.

"It's over, Ajax. It's done. Canon can go fuck itself. If they want to put you back in jail they're gonna have to go through me first."

__________

Ajax had wished you were physically in Teyvat many times. Most of these times were because he wished to fight you personally, some because he wished to share some food with you. This time, feeling the unmistakable warmth of your phantom touch slide from his shoulder to his hand, before focusing on his pinky as you promised to fight for him, he wished he could pull you into the tightest embrace. What a cruel dream - couldn't his mind have dreamt you a physical body, too? One he could hold on to. One he could curl up around.

He felt your touch on his back, soothing circles of warmth rhytmically rubbed, and he would've leaned into your touch if he had any idea of which direction to lean into.

"I have an escape route planned already." He sighed. "And a few other things I need to handle, too."

"Still." You insisted. "You look terrible. No offense."

"I'm f-"

"You're not fine, Ajax. I'm not an idiot. Look, the teapot has a place for you whenever you'd like. You have the Sigil of Permission, and I'll make sure to leave an empty room, so you can come and go whenever. So you at least get food, drink, a place to sleep... I'm pretty sure that with the Shogun around you'll always have someone to spar with, too, that should keep you from boredom-"

The Sigil of Permission.

Of course.

How could he have forgotten?

A dream as this may be - and he was start to suspect it wasn't, due to the unmistakable feeling of your energy seeping into his own and, perhaps a more obvious sign, how his clothes felt against his body due to being in the hot springs fully clothed (perhaps Overseers had no concept of clothing, and you refused to remove it because you considered his outfit a part of his skin? He'd heard you refer to the Tianquan's new outfit as a "new skin" once, after all...), the water making them heavier - it had still provided him something that could help him once he woke. The Traveler had once bestowed him with a sigil of permission that granted him access to your Serenitea Pot - a sigil of permission that was still in his possession.

Childe could feel a spark of hope inside his chest, the corners of his lips curving in a discreet yet confident smile.

He'd definitely take you up on that offer later.

"That's more like it!" You sounded relieved. And, as it usually was for Vessels when you were pouring your energy into them, your energy felt relieved as well, your emotions bleeding through into his body. All that, just for a small smile? Tartaglia smiled wider, in the general direction of where you should be, and the feeling increased.

He felt that familiar sensation of your focus on his hair, and found himself thinking that maybe, if you were there beside him, you would've ran your fingers through it, and maybe he'd lean closer, perhaps to rest his head on your shoulder or your lap.

Archons, what was happening to him? He wasn't supposed to let himself go like this. This wasn't a dream at all, he couldn't simply indulge as though it were. He had to stop leaning into your phantom touch, he had to stop hoping. This sort of hope, this sort of weakness, it'd kill him. He needed to-

"What you need is rest. And to be comfortable. And to let me and the Traveler take care of you." Your voice brought him out of his spiraling train of thought. Oh, right. He'd forgotten that lately you'd gotten better at hearing their thoughts. A trick you'd picked up in Sumeru, no doubt. He sighed.

"That... would be nice. Thank you, comrade. But you really don't need-"

"I don't. But I want to, so I will. So come on, let's get you fed while I redecorate the teapot again. It was bound for a change sooner or later, anyway."

[syrupfog]

(Open the readmore for context)

[canvascatalyst]

... there's a first time for everything, right?

all i want is for them to spiderman kiss, but with gwen upside down 🌻 image ID below, detailed ID in alt :)

Begin Image ID, done by artist. A digital drawing of Miles and Gwen from Across The Spiderverse. They are both drawn from the waist up and in side profile, wearing their spider suits, but without the masks. Miles is on the left, standing with his hands in his pockets. He has warm brown skin, and a dark brown afro with flat sides. His suit is black, with a red spider on the front in graffiti style. He is making eye contact with Gwen, who is hanging from the top of the drawing on the right side. Gwen has light skin and blonde hair, which is tied in a small ponytail that hangs down; she also has an undercut. Her suit is black and white, with a white hood that hangs down and hugs the back of her head. Her arms are pulled forward in front of her, as if holding onto web to hang from. The sleeves of her suit and inside of her hood are bright pink, with blue web designs. Gwen looks at Miles with a flirtatious smirk and raised eyebrow, and Miles smiles back at her softly in return. They are both blushing slightly. The background is bright yellow and blue, with different-styled sunflowers drawn behind each of them. End ID.

[mochinon-yah]

— YOUR LOVE.

(Alhaitham x Reader)

Your love was as passionate as the golden light shining through the open windows as you and your lover both lovingly look at each other in the morning. It was like this every single day. No amount of anger, fights, and pettiness could dissolve such wondrous moment from both of your life. You loved him, and he did too. He alone believed that it was an unbreakable fact.

He also remembered how much you loved every other little things in the world. The way your eyes would shine brightly at the sight of a cat. Your cat, to be exact. You always said that its grey fur reminded you of him, even the cat's stoic-like personality was similar to him as well. It was funny, really. He never liked it when people speak nonsense, just like what you did then, but oh boy, did he fell deeper in love with you after you said that. It was truly funny. Love had always been such a foreign concept, yet he tried to learn it as best as he could. He wanted to love you as much as you do to him. But with you now gone, who will be the one to teach him?

He can't let another have a go through his heart. You were already enough. It was only you who could fill that empty abyss of a heart. Knowing that there was no way of bringing you back, he fell into a lonely road of remembrance. He missed you all too well. He missed you every time his consciousness returned after being woken up from his slumber. He missed you. Your warm embrace was now left with him only trying to gain warmth from the sun's light.

From the start of the morning till the end of the moon shining, he missed you. It was just you, you, and you in his mind.

You just loved too much, and it hurts him. The blues, the greens, the greys, and even him. He, who you said was one of the most insufferable men that you've known, was loved by such a charming person. He was loved by none other than you. So, with you now gone, he couldn't quite imagine how hard the pain would inflict itself on him. Ironically enough, it went beyond the imagined.

Maybe that was why he stayed coop up inside his house after the announcement of your death. Maybe that was why all the mirrors inside his house was thrown away into the storage room. Maybe that was why he couldn't look at himself normally anymore. He, himself, reminded him of you. The way you would always compliment his cat-like eyes, his grey hair, and his cold yet warm approach made him stayed in that particular past—not wanting to move into a future where you did not exist. He did not want to exist.

All he wanted now was to be by your side, yet that was impossible. After all, he promised you. He promised to live well, even if you were gone now.

"I tried to live as best as I could, love, but it's hard. With you gone, I feel like the whole world has stopped working too. It was all too sudden, and I was forced to try and accept it. But, I just can't. Now, I'm sitting here on our old couch, looking through the window as the light of the sun hits me once again. Yet, there's something missing. After looking around, i found the problem. It's you, my dear. You are not in my arms, and it pains me to realise that. I cannot live without you, but you made me promise that exact reality. I have to go on living in this pathetic world with you not in it. Ah... I miss you, love, and I miss your love."

- Alhaitham, your beloved.

[imfinereallyy]

for stwg daily prompt: “goodnight love”

Steve brushed back the hair on Eddie’s forehead. Gone were the days when Steve had to pick off the stray hairs that stuck to Eddie’s sweaty skin. Back then, when they still spent their nights sneaking into the trailer, the hot Indiana summers always made themselves known in the metal box.

Now, though, Steve found himself wishing for the sweat-slicked skin. Found himself yearning for Eddie’s embarrassed laugh as Steve slicked back his bangs. His soft sigh as Steve pulled back Eddie’s hair for him.

Eddie was freezing now; the only heat was coming from his short, shallow breaths and the palm of Steve’s hand.

It would be any minute now.

Steve wished that Robin hadn’t left to get coffee, wished she was here to fill up the room with sound. The room was silent except for the soft, slow beat of the monitor. Its neon glow lit up Eddie’s pale face.

Steve knew it was useless to wish for her return; he knew neither of them had drunk coffee in decades. Not since Steve’s first seizure, and both Eddie and Robin stop drinking it in solidarity.

Steve had never experienced love quite like theirs before they came along.

Steve was sure that Robin knew, even after all this time, what he needed. That Steve needed to calm his nerves to the beautiful sound of Eddie’s heartbeat one last time.

“You look pretty when you smile like that, you know?” Eddie’s voice croaked from the bed.

“When I smile like what?” Steve raised a brow.

“Like you’re thinking about something really good.”

Steve felt his heart flutter. This game was as old as time between them. Eddie would always say this; then Steve would follow up with a ‘Maybe I am.’ And Eddie would ask him to tell him what was so good to deserve a smile like that. And Steve would tell him, to bring a little light to his day.

Sometimes it was about the kids. Sometimes, it was something a student did. Sometimes, it was just how blue the sky was that day. But most of the time, it was Eddie. And when it was Eddie, Steve would always say…

“It’s always good, thinking about you.” Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand, and laced their fingers together.

Eddie squeezed as hard as he could, which wasn’t very much. “I wanna fight you on that one, but I don’t want to see that pretty smile go away just yet.”

Steve’s smile deepened. “It’s yours whenever you want it.”

“Good.” Eddie smiled back. His eyes fluttered with exhaustion. “I’m getting a little sleepy; that smile better be there when I wake up.” Eddie’s voice choked, but his smile never wavered.

Steve didn’t fight him, not this time. “You deserve some rest.”

Eddie snuggled into the bed while the heart monitor slowed down slightly. Steve watched as the man he loved for long, and the man he would continue to love beyond the after, sought comfort in the love they shared.

Eddie tilted his head towards Steve as he eyelids slowly drifted shut. “Goodnight, love you.”

Steve stayed silent as Eddie had already drifted off into sleep. Steve didn’t bother to keep his eyes on the heart monitor this time. He could hear it, and that was good enough. Steve kept his gaze on his light, his life, his Eddie.

Steve made sure to watch the way his face drifted off, as it had done time and time again in every bed they had ever shared. How his nose scrunched up before his body relaxed into slumber. How his hands twitched endlessly before slipping into his dreams. Steve resisted tracing the wrinkles on his face, reminiscing about the tales they each told.

Steve wasn’t sure how long he sat, watching each breath become slower and slower. It didn’t matter, though; no amount of time would ever be enough.

Eventually, Eddie’s face stilled and distantly Steve heard the monitor flatline.

Steve stared for an extra moment, before leaning over and kissing Eddie’s forehead.

“Goodnight. Love.”

****

hi, yes im back. sorry this is bittersweet. sorry if it makes zero sense haha. you can thank the guild for me being back but also blame them for encouraging me to write this. love yal.

[bbonbonss]

My lil hybrid bby, fig! Raised in Wrath in a foster home even tho he was suppose to be cracked as an egg.

[grimcatician]

I keep thinking about Riku picking the paopu fruit in KH1 and giving it to Sora and that having been his not-so-subtle way of trying to share it with him…..

This was Rikus 13th reason I think