#tw breakdown

[complete-clownery]

Lol (still not done but I wanna post it so bad cuz im a bit proud of this)

[endlessmidnights]

I want someone to notice so badly but I know what would probably happen if they did so I just stay in constant conflict with myself

[birdsong-warriors]

We're back with a wild Millie!

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Part 1: Friend and Family

[chaotictrainwreck]

( reblogs >>>> likes)

[multicolour-ink]

What if Bowser makes one of the bros think the other is dead in order to break their spirits?

Well I did do a version for Luigi on this post, so let's try and do one for Mario.

So my first idea was that Luigi would manage to escape, but end up accidentally leaving his hat behind; Bowser then gleefully shows Mario the hat when Mario goes to confront him, and lies that Luigi is dead.

But then I thought "Well how would would this neatly tie into a a reunion scene if Mario is wailing on Bowser?" So I did a rethink, and came up with this:

Luigi manages to lead himself and the prisoners on an escape route out of the fortress. However, right as they are near the end, they are ambushed by Bowser's minions and Kamek. Luigi makes a nobel sacrifice to fight these goons while the prisoners make a run for it. But during the scuffle, Luigi is knocked out of sight (down a shaft or towards a lava pit, or whatever), to the horror of the prisoners.

The prisoners quickly run for it while Kamek and the goons are distracted; eventually they run into Mario and Co.

After introductions Mario is then quick to notice something and asks

"Hey, where's Luigi?"

The prisoners go very quiet. One of them, the Penguin King, steps forward and, with a heavy heart, presents Luigi's hat.

And Mario just shuts down.

He's on his knees, the hat clutched in his hands. The world goes foggy around him. He barely hears Toad and DK's yells of protest ("Are you sure Luigi's gone?!") He doesn't even register Peach right by his side, trying to comfort him.

All he hears is white noise.

[kekeiraa]

[flightlessphantomboi]

[ @i-used-to-hear-a-symphony ]

Hiiii it's me! ⭐

I'm okay- I uh managed to escape sort off, it'll still take time for me to go home - but im safe I think!:D

(TW, breakdown, repeating words/sentences, obsessive behaviour, threats)

🌌Private Messages 🌌

[Flightlessphantomboi has sent an audio message]

Wh-Oh my god, Sienna?! Holy fucking hgjibdfgbfdskjv-

*muffled screeches and whines*

Fl-Fledgling I need to see you please I've been so worried I missed you ImissedyouImissedyouImissedyou-

Where are you are you hurt oh god you'll be hurt my brain's going fucking nuts where are you where is the fledgling-

*another screech morphing into an animalistic growl*

My fledgling he hurt my FUCKING fledgling didn't he I'll kill him I'll fucking kill him- Sienna please tell me where you are I need to see you please-

[End of audio message]

[madamefluffnstuff]

Now We're Stressed Out

Fandom: Elder Scrolls Online

Pairing: Bastian Hallix x Fem!Vestige

Rating: K

Warning(s): Daily life stresses, Vestige is generally burnt out. Bastian and the Vestige are in an established relationship and thus share a bed.

Words: 1,028

AN: I think I had started this one around the holidays (which makes too much sense tbh), but this week I've been having Not A Good Time (TM), so I finished it up.

(Don't worry, I'm feeling much better now! Just had a rough week is all ^^)

~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's that you're reading?"

Bastian paused his walk to the inn wardrobe and craned his neck to try and see what the Vestige was looking at. The way the desk was placed meant her back was turned to him, and her slightly hunched posture didn't help either.

"A letter," was the blunt reply.

"Who's it from?"

"...Lyranth."

He made a face; the Dremora, while undoubtedly a helpful ally, had a tendency to be rather... demanding. And be very cryptic with those demands. And then tease mercilessly when all was said and done. A trait which grated on his nerves on more than one occasion.

Not that he'd be foolish enough to voice those thoughts out loud, of course.

"She's asking for a "favor"", the Vestige continued, an icy bitterness lacing her voice.

"You do realize there will most likely be strings attached, right?" Bastian responded dryly as he picked out a change of sleep clothes.

The Vestige nodded. "Not to mention this is the fourth letter this week that someone has asked me for help."

"Fourth?"

"Yep..."

He was quiet as that information sunk in: she always had a hard time telling people "no", and turning down those who needed help. That was something they had in common. They wanted to save everyone they could. But they couldn't be everywhere at once.

"I just... ARGH!" she screamed in frustration, slightly starting him as she did. "Why can't things just stay fixed!? Why does everyone need *me* to help them all the time!? Why can't people fix their own problems-" her voice cracked as her eyes welled with angry tears.

She had reached a breaking point. All the recent frustrations and grievances finally boiled over as she lost her temper. She was exhausted, stretched thin, and burnt out. Had her companion realized this sooner, Bastian might have done something to help relieve her burdens. He felt a little guilty for not realizing it sooner.

"It's not your fault," he reminded her gently as he approached her. "You can't expect yourself to solve everyone's problems on your own. They need to help themselves sometimes as well."

"But all of these people... so many ask me for help. Sure, they pay me, but do they ever ask *me* if *I* need help? Of course not..."

Bastian reached over her shoulder and, as gently as he could, removed the letter from her trembling hands. He made his way around the chair, picked up a book sitting on the corner of the desk, and slid the paper under said book. Out of sight, out of mind, as a wise mage once said. Firm but patient hands found their way onto The Vestige's shoulders.

"Come on. Away from the desk."

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing her tired eyes. Bastian gave her shoulders a soft squeeze. After a moment, she realized she truly was in no position to argue or protest. The Vestige gave another heavy sigh and stood up, allowing her companion to guide her away from her work station.

"Alright. Lay down for a minute," Bastian moved the bed covers for her. "I'll see if the innkeeper has something to help you relax."

As the sound his footsteps faded into the hallway, the Vestige felt herself to sink into the soft blankets. This was one of the nicer inns they had been to, especially the beds. Very plush and soft. She sat up to rearrange the pillows to her liking before plopping herself back down. The silence was unexpectedly peaceful, lulling her into a calm as her mind began to settle.

It only took a few minutes for Bastian to return from his errand. As the door opened, The Vestige immediately smelled hot tea. She perked up as he approached the bed. He smiled, "You're already looking better."

She smiled back. "Just a bit."

He offered a hand to help her sit up, which she graciously accepted. As the Vestige swung her legs over the edge of the bed, he passed her the cup and sat down next to her. She let out a contented sigh as she inhaled the sweet scent of the beverage. Bastian rested his hand on her leg and gave it a soothing pat. "You alright?"

A nod.

"You sure?"

Another nod.

He watched her carefully as she drank deeply, without blowing on it. A mix of concern and amusement spread across Bastian's face as he waited for a reaction- she just downed a near boiling drink. When she did not react, only stared at the adjacent wall unblinking, he slowly nodded and assumed she'd be fine.

Bastian quietly cleared his throat. "I'm sorry you got to this point," he apologized. "If I had realized sooner I would have helped you."

"You don't need to apologize, love," the Vestige assured him in kind. "I should have asked for help sooner."

They sat in a comfortable quiet while she finished her tea. Once she had, Bastian suggested they go to bed early. Some extra sleep would do them both good.

"No, no, I can't right now. I need to think of how to tell Lyranth-"

"All right, look," Bastian said, putting his hands back on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "It's late. You're exhausted. You're stressed to Oblivion. And you need to sleep. Forget about all of that for right now."

"But, I-"

"No "but's". You've done enough." His hands slid soothingly down her arms, wrapping around her own hands in a protective manner. "You need to be more gentle with yourself..."

She was silent for a long moment before sighing and admitting he was right.

It didn't take long for them to get comfortable under the blankets- Bastian even went and found an extra one for her so she could "nest" into the covers. The Vestige nestled herself into his arms as he pulled her close, resting his chin on her head. A heavy exhalation of relief escaped her lips; she was safe. She had a support system. She would figure this out in due time.

"Promise me you'll ask for help next time?" Bastian murmured into her hair.

"I promise."

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @lithiumrev, @arisenlicious, @alaxon, please let me know if you want to be added because I've never had a tag list before and I don't know who to put in it. ;A;

[damnedrainbows]

How the deer had lingered at the bar for as long as possible afterwards, with his claws pathetically gripping the glass Husk had before, just to feel the warmth of the other until it diminished and all he was left with was a memory.

Alastor had miscalculated Husk’s final move in this game, and what his real ace was. He thought it was the Lilith card, and then he was certain it had been his abandonment. The final card he had to play came the very next day. He hadn’t left the bar, remaining in the same spot and holding a glass that had long since lost its warmth.

He already knew what had happened when Charlie stood there, authority on her sweet features, and tears clouding her eyes. His world crumbled in an instant, and the life he’d made in a year was gone. Still, he smiled. He’d cut off her sobbing lecture, figuring he’d spare them both the pain.

He wasn’t angry.

“I understand, Princess.” He’d stood and grasped his staff, bowing to the girl not out of mocking, but genuine respect. “Thank you for allowing me to be here. It’s been an honor.” If he was losing it all, then Alastor was losing it all on his terms, and no one else’s.

He’d left before she could inform the idiot it was a temporary suspension of only a month, and he’d left before he could see the horrified and guilty tears in Niffty’s eye.

He’d returned to his manor, and never had being there felt so overwhelming in grief. The halls carried the memory of a certain little bug that would skitter about chasing rats and leaping onto him while he tried to read his paper. The bar he’d allowed Husk to customize to his liking—the only spot in his house decorated in spades and hearts and diamonds-carried the memory of the bar cat that used to roll his eyes as he watched them, almost fond.

The silence, and loneliness was deafening, suffocating…but it hadn’t been for long. Lilith had wasted no time in seeking him out, none too pleased her link to her daughter had been severed by his actions. She hadn’t been merciful. On the contrary, it seemed that night and the alienation of his friends had given her plenty new ammunition.

“Poor little fawn, by himself in this forest of loneliness. Nobody is there to pick you up now. Nobody is there to protect you. When will you stop reaching for connections that you know aren’t destined for you? Your only company now is me…and this eternity.”

Alastor used to fight her. He knew it was a losing battle, but if he could just pretend to get a blow in, then at least he wouldn’t feel like helpless prey. Now however, he never fought her. If he was being honest with himself, for the first time in his life and afterlife, Alastor was losing the will to fight.

Depression was an ever present whisper that hung over this realm and it had finally found a way to sink its teeth in. He’d kept its jaws off of him before easily, through the power that gave him some sort of grounding, and the superficial friendships he formed. Now he had neither. Now he had nothing.

Alastor was like a rag doll when he was tossed like discarded trash, back in through the portal. He wasn’t sure where he had landed, honestly. It wasn’t his manor, and seemed to be somewhere outside. She probably didn’t want him to be able to get somewhere where he could lick his wounds. Sepsis sounded like a dream right now. If only death by it wasn’t fuelled with more pain.

You think you deserve a merciful end?

The thought brought forth a manic giggle, even as he coughed another bubble of blood into the asphalt and shivered from the agony. He was weighted to the ground, wrapped under the chains that were like no other, with their black, ghastly links and the interwoven thorns in each one. Fitting that even the leash itself was barbed and meant to slice.

He supposed she wanted the humiliation. She wanted whoever to find him, to end him, to know that he didn’t die a free man. He’d be found like the chained dog he was, and ended just as pathetically as one. And at this point? He welcomed the euthanasia.

@hazbinned

[vldsideblog]

It’s angsty Keith hours guys.

Cw for, self hatred, panic attack/ breakdown, implied past abuse, scratching, brief sh I think. As always lemme know if I missed anything

Keith’s eyes were locked on the bathroom mirror, purple-black irises stared back.

Everything made sense now; his entire life had shifted revealing things he’d always known but pushed down. Truths he’d locked in a box and tossed in the ocean, hoping pitifully that the tide wouldn’t come crashing back in.

But here he was fully aware of why he was different.

Keith was galra. And he was a monster.

His mouth tasted like iron, abnormally strong fingernails dug into the sink with a horrific screech, he couldn’t breathe.

Keith desperately scanned his mirror image for a sign of humanity. The scars on his jaw, each dark mole, lines underneath his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to cover the sharp teeth, unnatural eyes, the fire burning within him.

He could feel his knees beginning to shake, the armor on his legs rattling slightly.

‘Why did it have to be now? Couldn’t this have waited until after the war, when I’m not needed anymore. Then I wouldn’t be a liability. Then at least I could go live on some desolate planet by myself so no one would have to think about me again.’

His thoughts were racing faster with each minute, tripping over each other in desperation to be fully formed.

‘Oh god, Shiro’s gotta hate me now, the galra ruined his life, I’m one of them. What if they lock me up? They wouldn’t be wrong, I’m a monster. I’ve only ever hurt people…. But I can’t do that again!’

Memories of dark closets and broken bones still haunted him. Something warm began to well up in his eyes. ‘Tears. Wait no.. monsters don’t cry. Humans cry, and I’m not human.’

Suddenly Keith pushed away from the counter, no longer able to look at his monstrous reflection. His back hit the wall and his legs gave out, leaving him to slide down the wall with little grace. His sharp teeth dug into his bottom lip drawing blood. He barely registered the pain.

‘I don’t deserve to call myself a Paladin Of Voltron, I’m a flaw. A demon masquerading as a hero.’

His shaking hands began to fumble with his armor, desperate to rid himself of the markings of a paladin. His thick nails caught in the grooves of the plating on one knee with a terrible screech. He threw off the knee guard and began frantically removing the rest. By the time he’d gotten down to his undersuit Keith was sobbing uncontrollably.

Trembling hands began to scratch at his face, unable to feel the pain of breaking skin. Warm blood started to poke at his fingertips and mix with the streams coming from his eyes. His purple eyes. His galran eyes.

‘I hate this.’

He curled tighter into himself, as if waiting for pain, to be punished for his very existence. There was only silence, and somehow that made everything worse.

[ring-of-galactic]

It was sabotage Saturn.

There was no promises broken, only a poor person who lost their life.

That's what they all say. It's never true. I'm not stupid. I'm not. I'm not. I- I'm smarter than this. I'm not believing 6our stupid lies! I'm not! I'm not going to! I- I don't even care, anyways! I- I never did. Never will. A-Archer can rot in that- stupid flesh pit for all I care! It doesn't matter. He- He never mattered. Not to me. Not to me. I- I don't care. I don't care. I. Don't. Care. I dont and i never will. J-Juet like I wa supposed to just like cyrus ordered. i dont care. I don't care. because it's bad to care. Imperfection is bad. And im not bad so that means I don't care. A doesn't matter Indont matter only the new world he'll create matters that's all nothing else-

[endlessmidnights]

I’ve hit the point where I want to vent about everything but I’m too much of a burden and typing it out would take effort I don’t have

[especiallyqhere]

[Day 4: Trauma/Comfort]

Thought I'd combine 2 prompts in one :')))

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! I don't usually have a problem with pacing but I noticed that I've had this particular issue in similar scenes in different stories. So basically, something traumatic happenned to X character, they move on, time goes by, and at a certain point something reminds them of the traumatic situation and they break down crying, usually while someone is there to hold them. I've.. been there, it happens out of a sudden, without any warning, and the crying feels endless. Now, I can't seem to be able to write that same feeling down. I think have a good grasp with exposition, but it doesn't feel like I have to throw that in while this other VERY BIG emotion is overwhelming the character. Same with description. Also, I get that this is the way I understand it and there's clearly something wrong with it because when I reread it feels like something is missing. So basically, and to summarize, how do I make crying scenes feel longer? (Because saying "they cried for a few minutes and slowly calmed down" sounds awful.)

Making Breakdown Scene Feel Longer

Fiction writing is comprised of three elements:

-- Exposition (explaining, describing, character thought) -- Action (character movement, things happening) -- Dialogue (characters talking)

Every scene is a balance of exposition, action, and dialogue.

So, when it comes to pacing a scene, those are your choices. If you want to make a scene longer, you need to add more exposition, more action, and more dialogue.

If you want to make a crying scene actually feel long (without saying "they cried for a few minutes") you need to add more of those three things. For example:

Exposition: what are the characters thinking while this scene is taking place? What do they feel? What do they notice about each others body language and facial expressions? What do they notice about their own internal sensations? What observations do they make about what's happening and how do those make them feel? What sensory things do they notice about the other person, about themselves, and about the environment? (For example, to illustrate time passing, you could illustrate the light changes in the room or have a character notice it's getting late.)

Action: what are some ways the characters can move around during this scene? Body language, gestures, facial expressions, interaction with each other, interaction with the environment... What are some things that can happen not initiated by the two characters? (For example, the cat jumps up in the lap of the crying character. They're interrupted by a pizza delivery. Fireworks start to go off in the dark city skyline outside the window...)

Dialogue: what are some things these characters can say in this scene? To one another, out loud to themselves, to another character who shows up briefly, or perhaps on a phone call.

One more thing...

If a character is having a breakdown related to a past trauma, you might consider working brief flashbacks of the trauma into this scene as sort of a fourth element. You probably wouldn't want to start the crying scene and then go into a long flashback (although you could have a long flashback kick-off the breakdown...) but you could dip in and out of the comfort scene as this character recalls little bits and pieces, perhaps even while relaying them to the other character. It might not work for the scene you're writing, but it's something to consider.

I hope that helps!

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[multicolour-ink]

One of the best things about that Mario & Luigi footage is that it's made me feel reasonably certain now that their reunion WILL be a big deal and WILL be emotional. I have been living in "omg what if Mario and Luigi don't get to properly hug when they reunite, i will DIE" territory for so long, but if they've got heart wrenching lines like THAT just in the scene where they get separated, then they have to pay that off later in the movie, that's just plain ole Storytelling 101! Finding/saving his brother is Mario's whole quest, his ultimate reason for going on this adventure, his emotional throughline. From everything we've seen, I think the people making the movie are smart enough to know that the culmination of that has to be a big moment. :)

(Also I deserve to be thrown in ANGST JAIL for this but what if it was even kicked up a notch and there's a period of time in the movie where either brother thinks the other is dead? Maybe Mario does crash off Rainbow Road/is presumed dead and news of that gets back to Luigi from Bowser or his minions OR Bowser taunts Mario that he's already disposed of Luigi when Mario demands to know where he is (but he's actually just escaped, or Bowser's just lying to hurt Mario/throw him off his game so he can get the upper hand). Thinking of them reuniting after THAT, having to grapple with the idea of the other really being gone forever...oh man, i would simply disintegrate into DUST)

This ask does make me feel better :)

You see...with everything that's going on in the movie, my fear is that the writers have got too swept up in adding in so much, that the reunion will end up being glossed over.

But I do have to remain hopeful. I mean, if the writers took time for the Bros to have a precious moment during the wrap zone scene, instead of fast forwarding straight to the Mushroom Kingdom, then they seem to be on the right track 👍

Going into your angst idea: Oh believe me! When I was made aware that the blue shell in the Mario Movie poster was targeting Mario, my whole brain came up with a scene that could make it into the movie (not saying it will, just might) -

Mario gets knocked off Rainbow Road, presumed dead by the others. Word reaches back to Bowser, who gleefully tells Luigi that Mario, his brother, his blood, is dead.

And Luigi...just breaks down. All hope of seeing his brother again grows into an agonising ache of despair. He blames himself. Convinced that if he never fell into that pipe and got lost, Mario wouldn't be gone.

And the worst part is that there is nothing for him. Nowhere for him to go (remember, Luigi hasn't met Peach, and has no idea about Toad or the Kongs, so it wouldn't occur to him to go straight to the Mushroom Kingdom for safety) Luigi is all alone for the first time in his life...

And then he's reunited with Mario and hugs and tears ensue 🤗

[kitakami-zorua-kin]

i - i'm so sorry - i didn't - i didn't know i'm sorry i - i should've - should've been there - i care i do i'm sorry - i didn't know - not again please i'm sorry not again i can't - i'm sos orry i should've been there i'm sorry i didn't know i would''ve been there if i knew i would've i'm so sorry i didn't know- rus? shit - rus, bud, you alright?! i - i'm sorry so sorry i didn't know not again they never should've fished me out i can't help anyone should've juhst left me in the sea- i'ms sorry i didn't know i care i do i'm so sorry i- i can't do it again i can't do the fucking kitakami trip again please i'm so sorry i'll be there next time i swear- fuck