#but also it feels like im less???? free????? in a way

[aventurineswife]

hey so feel free to ignore this request if you're uncomfortable with it. Can i ask Kinich x suicidal reader? They're already dating and the reader confide in their true feelings about slowly losing the will to live because they feel like they cant handle life.

More explanation: i imagine the reader have a laid back, cheerful and out going personality, the reader joke about offing themself everyday intentionally so nobody will take them seriously if they ever for real tell them about it.

Also i kinda see Kinich as young adult(19/20) and i think the reader is also one who is struggling with adulthood(the reader's family used to spoil them)

Note: this is so self-indulgent, im so sorry if this makes you feel uncomfortable😭 should've just talk to a therapist bot on c.ai or summ.(sorry if this triggers you☹️)

“If I Fall, Will You Catch Me?”

Summary: You and Kinich have been dating for some time, your contrasting personalities complementing one another. While you wear a mask of cheerfulness and make light of your struggles, you harbor a deep internal battle against feelings of inadequacy and hopelessness. One night, unable to maintain the facade any longer, you confide in Kinich about your true feelings.

Tags: Kinich x Reader, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Emotional Vulnerability, Found Family, Struggles of Adulthood, Fluff and Angst, Supportive Partner, Healing Through Understanding.

Warnings: Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts and Ideation, Themes of Emotional and Mental Health Struggles, Potential Triggers for Readers Sensitive to Discussions of Depression or Hopelessness, Includes moments of emotional distress but concludes on a hopeful note.

A/N: I'm really glad you felt comfortable sharing this, and I want to remind you that you're not alone in how you're feeling. Struggling with these emotions, especially when the world feels heavy, is so difficult, but it’s okay to reach out and talk about it when you're ready. You don’t need to carry everything by yourself. Life can be really overwhelming, and even though it can feel like you're stuck or that things won’t change, there is support available to help you work through it. It's okay to feel lost or unsure—what you're going through doesn’t make you any less valuable. Take care of yourself, and I hope you find the peace and healing you deserve. You are worthy of it! 🫂💖🫶

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the trees of the canopy. The air smelled of damp earth and the wild, untamed beauty of nature. You sat on the edge of a rock, watching the wind ruffle the leaves, your feet dangling over the edge.

Kinich sat next to you, his eyes scanning the surroundings with that focused, pragmatic gaze of his. He wasn't one for small talk, never had been, and you appreciated that. Silence between you felt like a comfortable thing, a space where words weren't always necessary. Still, you knew him well enough by now to sense when something was off.

You leaned back, stretching your legs, trying to distract yourself from the heaviness that had been creeping into your chest for weeks. Life felt like a mountain you could never quite scale, and no matter how many times you tried to climb, it always felt like it would swallow you whole.

"Hey," you said casually, as if this was just another joke, "maybe I should just go out and... off myself, y'know? Maybe then I'll find some peace."

You tried to make it sound light, as you always did, tossing the words out like they were nothing. It was the same joke you made every day, the one you used to hide the truth. But today, your smile felt forced, and you hated the way the words tasted in your mouth.

Kinich didn’t laugh. He never did when you said that.

You glanced over at him. His eyes were locked on you, unreadable yet piercing. He didn’t say anything at first, just let the silence drag on.

Finally, he exhaled deeply, his expression softening, but not in a way that was comforting. "You don’t get to joke about things like that with me," he said quietly, his voice steady, almost too calm. "Not anymore."

Your heart skipped a beat. He'd never said anything like that before. You turned to face him, your playful demeanor slipping away as you stared at him.

"Kinich, come on. You know it’s just a joke. I’m fine," you said, trying to backpedal, but the words didn’t sound convincing, even to you.

He didn't say anything, but his gaze hardened slightly, and for the first time, you saw a flicker of something deep in his eyes. Maybe it was concern, maybe it was frustration, but it was there. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the intensity of his presence filling the space between you.

"You think I don’t notice?" Kinich said, his voice barely above a whisper, but it held weight. "You laugh and joke, but I can see it. You’re not fine. I’ve seen the way you look at the world like it’s just... too much. Too heavy. Like you’re carrying something too big for your shoulders."

You stiffened, your throat tightening as the words he said felt like they were cutting straight through the walls you’d carefully built around yourself. You didn’t know how to respond.

"I’m... I’m just tired," you managed to say after a long moment. "Everything’s harder than it should be. It feels like I’m never going to figure it out. And... I don’t think I have the strength left to keep pretending."

Kinich didn’t look away. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze that made you feel like you were under a microscope. He didn’t need to speak to convey how much he understood.

"You’re not alone in this," he said softly, and for the first time, there was a tenderness to his words that made your heart ache. "You might feel like you’re alone, but you’re not. Not anymore."

The silence stretched between you two again, but this time, it felt less oppressive. Kinich’s presence beside you was comforting, even if you didn’t fully understand why. He wasn’t the kind of person who offered comforting words freely, but when he did, it always felt genuine.

"I don’t know what you’re going through," Kinich continued, his voice still steady. "But I know what it’s like to feel lost. To feel like you’ve got nothing left to give. To carry things you shouldn’t have to carry. I’ve been there."

You turned your gaze away from him, a lump forming in your throat. You hadn’t expected him to share anything about himself, and it made you realize just how much you didn’t know about him, despite everything.

"Kinich…" you started, but he held up a hand.

"I don’t want you to carry this by yourself," he said, his voice hardening slightly. "I’ll help you carry it. You don’t have to handle everything alone. Not anymore."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to cry. Not now. Not in front of him.

"I’m scared, Kinich. I don’t know how to keep going when it all feels like it’s too much," you confessed, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to remain steady.

He didn’t hesitate. Kinich placed a hand on your shoulder, firm and unwavering, and his eyes softened just a little. "You don’t have to have all the answers. Just take it one step at a time. And if you fall, I’ll be here. You won’t have to do it alone."

You blinked, feeling the walls around your heart crack just a little, the weight on your chest easing ever so slightly. Kinich wasn’t here to fix you. He wasn’t offering grand solutions. He was simply offering to stand by your side, no matter what.

And for the first time in a long while, you believed him.

"Thank you," you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. "I don’t deserve it."

He shook his head, the faintest smirk playing on his lips. "Don’t talk like that. You’re not the only one who’s struggling. We all have our battles."

You nodded, trying to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you might be able to breathe again.

Kinich didn’t speak further. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough. And that, in itself, was a promise.

A promise that no matter how dark things got, no matter how heavy life seemed, you wouldn’t have to face it alone.

You weren’t sure what the future would bring, or how you would handle everything, but you knew one thing for sure: Kinich would be by your side. And that, somehow, made everything a little easier to bear.

[yurisupernova]

koschei ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧˚ ༘

[art-soboro]

my turn to draw cute contextless kemonomimis of despicable people

[way-too-obsessed-gamer]

My personal take on the coalecroux official wedding rings (like they are dating and perhaps decide to do an actual wedding) is that they can look like anything but they must be enchanted. One always feels like the cold side of a pillow and the other always feels like a warm blanket. Yes the former goes to Gideon and the latter to Kremy

[birb--birb]

Soooooo I did lich emmrich...for science..

AND IM SORRY I DONT LIKE IT HOW IS IT MORE COMON THAN SAVING MANFRED??????????

[lemongogo]

oo u want 2 draw soo bad..

[transimailisa]

genuinely love that the loyal pin has an approach to how misogyny can be the root of homophobia especially lesbophobia in that case

[telesodalite]

I need to be weirder about the scavengers and cannibalism...

[sapphorror]

Okay but my favorite GIR moments are ALWAYS the ones that imply he's just aware enough of what's going on to know that the thing he's doing will fuck up Zim's day, and he still does it anyway, possibly specifically for that purpose.

[deus-ex-mona]

when freedom is in sight!!!!!!!!

[milkbreadtoast]

me having entire conversations in the tags of posts w ppl by going "#prev ..." has the same vibe as me passing notes back and forth to someone in class that the entire class reads before the notes get there

edit: ...alternatively having convos w someone by like. writing a message on the blackboard or sidewalk and then checking later and someone else has added to it while i was away...

[reel-fear]

Honestly, every single time the whole 'poppy playtime is a bendy rip-off' stuff ever shows up I find it all extremely unconvincing and silly.

For one thing, rip-off usually is meant to imply that it's a cheap lazy copy of a better more polished thing, and uh. Sorry but even from chapter 1? Poppy Playtime is a better game than Bendy, it has a simple but understandable story, the game manages to be thrilling, creepy, and very intense at times... I mean that Huggy chase in the vents ALONE puts it way above Batim for me.

I mean BATDR had the most slow stupid chase I've ever seen [and every other encounter with the ink demon is text telling u he's there and then a timer goes down and u get jumpscared] and batim's chases were either silly or just not nearly as theatric or terrifying as that.

When making the vent sequence I mean not only is it absolutely horrifying to realize how fast Huggy is in there but also it's so theatric and cool? The fact that you round a corner after thinking you escaped only to see a terrifying animation of that thing crawling toward you is awesome! I wish Bendy had stuff like that!

And all the stuff it shares with Bendy are generic things Bendy ripped from other horror games/media anyways. I'm not saying Poppy Playtime isn't inspired by Bendy I for sure think it is but Bendy is such a generic story that somehow fails to do tropes 100 other horror games have done any comparison only makes Poppy Playtime look better.

"It has employees being sacrificed for their company" That is not a concept Bendy invented, literally look at any of the sci-fi horror series Bendy is very inspired by. This is literally a twist in the original Alien.

"It has a scary woman forcing you to do tasks for her" Once again, not a concept Bendy invented, a scary mysterious person forcing you to do fetch-quests is a concept found in tons of horror media. And at least Poppy Playtime gave you a chase with her and let you defeat her, look at poor malice. She's barely on screen for more than 10 minutes before she gets stabbed.

"It has a cult worshipping the monster" This is something tons of horror games and media have done too. I mean In The Tall Grass has a guy who worships a giant magical rock in the middle of a grass maze, Bioshock [which Bendy has only been taking more and more direct inspiration from while failing to grab any of the compelling parts] also had a lot of themes of religion and cult-ish behavior, almost every horror media franchise has at one point done a cult thing.

Bendy couldn't even come up with a reason Sammy worships the ink demon, the best motivation we've ever gotten is just that 'he's crazzyyyy the ink made him insaneeee'. Who is the cheap rip-off here?

At least Poppy Playtime gave their cultist a motive for worshipping the monster + a proper boss fight that feels intense and looks awesome! Bendy didn't even let you kill Malice [she got stabbed in front of you and then just collapsed on the floor how thrilling] meanwhile you get to kill three of the villains in Poppy Playtime and the gameplay and action in those scenes have only gotten better as the game went on.

I mean Sammy walks into a room and goes "AAA SCARY I'M BEING MURDERED" then later shows up and for NO REASON sees a normal human man and assumes it's the ink demon before once again someone else kills him for you. In Poppy Playtime you defeat Catnap as he floods the world with this horrible nightmare-inducing gas that intensifies the color palette and his design. Fight off versions of him that are illusions that you need your flare gun for, then watch in a wonderful animation as he mistakes the monster for his savior before getting killed by it, in a brutal way I might add, which game are we accusing of being cheap, lazy garbage again?

I just find this argument to be people who Really Really need to find a reason to hate Poppy Playtime which I think is silly. The devs being weird, shady people is already enough reason to dislike the game, you don't need to invent reasons why secretly every part of the game is malicious or bad. But esp when I see Bendy fans saying they don't support Poppy Playtime or dislike it bc of its devs or even saying its cringe ummmm.

I have bad news about the fact Bendy's devs are worse and it took not one, but TWO over an hour long videos to cover it all. Plus the Bendy games are just the worse games in every aspect, if I could sell my batim copy for a copy of Poppy Playtime I wouldn't hesitate at all.

Saying this as a bendy fan, we have no right to be super judgy towards Poppy Playtime. If Poppy Playtime is embarrassing cringe, Bendy is too and is way more embarrassing of an interest. We shouldn't spread misinformation just because we all want to hate Poppy Playtime, you can dislike Poppy Playtime without making up a bunch of nonsense to justify it.

Honestly seeing people just blatantly be unfairly mean to Poppy Playtime only makes its critics look worse and makes it hard to take any backlash to the games seriously. Because surprise surprise if you spread misinformation to make a point people will quickly stop listening to Anything you have to say bc they won't trust you're telling the truth anymore.

[bobasnonbeliever]

only posting this here because i dont think anyone will see it. i need to get this out

im so fucking tired of my life. im tired of caring, like, in general. as stupid as it sounds, i was watching kitchen nightmares, and gordon said something about a chef or an owner, i dont remember exactly, he said; "losing hope is a scary thing to do, when theres just no more light at the end of the tunnel, it takes you down dark paths." or something like that. and ive been suicidal/depressed since i was 9, but i thought to myself "im not hopeless, am i?". the more i thought about it, the worse i felt because, god no, im not hopeless. im helpless, or maybe i wallow too much in my own self pity. i dont know the difference. every goddamn day feels like another waking nightmare, im sick of living with my mom, im sick of her not letting me get a job. i dont want my name on the damn electric bill because shes over $1,000 in debt to the power company anymore. shes already ruining my credit, and i dont even have a damn job! not to mention her fucking kid, her 5yo fucking kid, im taking care of. the product of the man who beat me over and over again, threatened to kill me, and then he took a greyhound bus out of our lives. why didnt she protect me? he never once hit her, or anyone else, why didnt mom help me? i was only 13 when he first pulled me by my hair and slammed me into the stairs because i let moms ice cream tub melt on the kitchen table for half an hour. it took him till my brother was 3 to leave. she valued him over me, and even now. im always taking care of my brother, even when he screams at me, cusses at me, throws things at me, spits on me, hits me, kicks me, claws me, bites me, and more. you get the point. she never even tells him to stop, she doesnt have to scream, or hurt him, or anything. just please, please tell them to stop hurting me. i still take care of him. i take care of him when she takes 20 fucking benadryl and passes out for the full time shes at home between shifts. i sacrificed my education to "help her" take care of him. and she gets mad at me when i parent him, when i tell him off, or even more mad when i have to cry and beg him to stop hurting me. she says "youre 22 years old, get a grip" when im covered in bruises from the 5 year old "hes five!" she will scream when i tell her he hurts me. "he is five, hes supposed to listen to you" i said once, and she just stared at me. im always fucking things up, she never fails to let me know, when she looks at me like that i know its my fault. i cant even begin on my relationship, i shouldnt, he might see this. i just want to give up, im so tired of caring, i want to let it all go. my dog died, i ruined him too, i couldnt take him to the vet i couldnt help him. hes gone because i failed. my baby, im not saying that in the cringy melinial way, he saved me from suicide. so many times, it was "hell be so confused why im gone..", "hes gonna miss me", "whos gonna take care of him?" but now hes gone and im still here. my baby, is gone and im so selfishly still here. why wouldnt she let me get a job? i couldve taken him, i couldve at least got him put down so he didnt have to suffer in his favourite spot on my bed till his kidneys put him down for us. if i didnt know, my boyfriend would kill himself too when he comes home from classes tomorrow, and i was dead, i would take the entire 160 count bottle of benadryl i stole from moms room. i want to see my baby, he never ever missed on helping me, i owe him my life and couldnt even give him that when he passed. but not for lack of trying.

but even so, i dont feel hopeless. maybe only yearning, but it feels enough like hope. when i use my right hand to stroke my left cheek and neck, it almost feels like someone else. i get a glimmer of a thought, "one day, i wont have to beg to be taken care of. someone will do it because they want to.", but still, it hurts worse. i dont know how i can possibly derive so much gut wrenching pain from that little bit of hope, but i do. and still, i cant help myself, i cant blame anyone else. i can only hope someone will come save me. if i could handle this all on my own, i wouldnt be here typing this.

i want to decompose.

writing this after that monster of a textblock in the tags, but if you were wondering. im not exaggerating about the mess, and i wouldnt normally judge. because i have had worse bedrooms, mental illness is a bitch. but its in the common area, and she absolutely does make the 5yo live in it. she moved out to the living room after their room was too trashed for her to even walk in, so she toated her 50" fucking tv right out there and hasnt moved, accept to go to work, since. everyone pray or cross your fingers or send me some good energy to hope she gets sliced into a million pieces at work instead of accidentally oding on bennies so i can raise my brother with her life insurance money.

[mr-independent]

you know, its not brought up in fics often but ted is extremely well read. he doesnt brag about it, but hes read everything from f scott fitzgerald's b sides to ayn rand's doorstoppers to the sixteen book Ender series, etc etc etc. Ted reads about as much as we see Beard reading (which. in my head is a trait that was passed on, a new focus to sharpen the mind and keep him out of trouble and his mind off drugs, something Ted offered up as a coping mechanism for when his own dad died, a way to have fun and adventure and escape without ending up in jail like Ted himself had a handful of times before, scaring the bejeezus out of his ma.)

this turned into a mini fic and i lost my train of thought but point is, Ted reads So Much and more people need to pick up on this in fics please and thank you.

[lokilysolbitch]

me: hm i've been noticing gluten affects me worse than i thought

me: *eats gluten bc i haven't fully switched to primarily gf food yet*

me: *feels worse than usual*

me: woah o.0 i did not see that coming,,,,,,,,,,,,,

[brutal-nemesis]

YWDaC: Maybe It’s Not So Fun After All

Hiii here is part 2 of pirate shenanigans I’ll probably do one more to finish this out but it probably won’t be for a while cuz I have some other stuff I wanna work on so enjoy for now ✨

←Previous - Castys Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: pirate battle, wood splinters in a guy, stitches

The next few weeks were truly a learning experience, and also just an experience. Castys learned far more than he ever thought there was to know about ropes and knots and wind and how to clean things, all while his back slowly hurt less and less. He hadn’t even been whipped that much, but it was still super unfun as an experience, enough to motivate him to be a good little pirate. Well, more like a sailor, they hadn’t done any pirate activities since he was so kindly given a spot on the crew.

And of course when battle did come, he wished he could go right back to the peaceful days of hard labor and yelling.

Kamon had been teaching him to use a sword during their free time, since Castys’s spear wasn’t well suited for combat aboard a crowded ship, but before he even got a chance to use it, the ships had to fire their cannons at each other a bunch. It was loud, somehow way louder than he’d been expecting, and his arms burned from carrying ammunition up from the hold. By the time the fun part started, he was already gonna be exhausted, just great.

His new orders were to take supplies up to the main deck, and he was somehow surprised that there was even more chaos and yelling up here than down below. They were getting pretty close to the other ship now, and it was probably almost time to board them and steal all their shit, which he was actually excited for. Mainly the stealing part.

Just as he set the crate down, there was a loud crack next to him, and his body lit up with all these sharp little pains, like…he looked down, and he was indeed covered in splinters. They were a wonderful variety of sizes, from tiny little ones that weren’t even making him bleed to ones that were as long as his hand, but the worst one had poked completely through his fucking cheek, filling his mouth with the taste of wood and blood, which was a weird combination. Ears ringing, he stumbled away from the destroyed railing, and was just about to start pulling the splinters out before he remembered the medic’s stern warning to not pull splinters out yourself. So he had a cheek piercing for now, hooray.

Before he’d made it back belowdecks, Captain Izogie called for everyone to get ready to board, so nevermind to hauling stuff. Castys pulled out the sword he’d been given, the weight still feeling a little unnatural, but it was all he was gonna get. He saw some dudes climbing up the rigging and swinging over on ropes, but he’d rather just wait and walk over on the plank like a normal person. Was boarding another ship a normal person thing? Okay, really, swinging looked fun, but he didn’t feel like climbing when he was full of holes that were full of wood. Also he didn’t trust himself to land without breaking something.

And then it was his turn to cross the plank, running so he didn’t have time to look down and think about falling into the cold ocean, jumping down into the chaos of the fight, trying his best to weave through the clashing metal and warm spurts of blood, and suddenly he was face-to-face with someone, someone he didn’t recognize, and he raised his sword, but just as he was about to swing he remembered that he’d never fought another human, not for real, and he couldn’t help but hesitate, and they didn’t, they swung, he only jumped back at the last second, it was them or him, he had to fight, remember what he’d learned, remember what it felt like to slice through flesh and hear screams, and it was more familiar once he did it, coming back to him now, his grip steady as he jumped over the body and moved on, belowdecks, rummaging around for valuables, helping his crewmates pry crates open and carry them back to the ship, the wood almost slipping out of his hands, when did they get slick with blood, he wasn’t sure, it was all a haze of back and forth, up and down, fight and slash and stab and dodge and search and carry and he almost walked back across the plank onto the now-sinking ship, all of its contents plundered, all of its crew dead. 

The fight was over, and everything hurt. 

With shaky hands, he tried to put his sword back in its scabbard, but someone stopped him. “Clean your blade, newbie. And then go see the doc. You look like shit.” Castys nodded, wiping the blood from his sword with his shirt before sheathing it and stumbling belowdecks. Maybe he’d get less of a share of the treasure this way, but at the moment he didn’t care. He just wanted the damn splinters out. And the gash in his arm probably needed stitches, which were always his favorite. 

He found Alfyn’s quarters without much trouble, having been there before after he’d been flogged on his first day. The healer was busy tending to people with more pressing wounds, so Castys just sat on the floor and watched. Alfyn’s healing magic was so strange to watch, the way he could just hold his hands out and make flesh rejoin the other flesh super unfamiliar to Castys. Neither of them could use magic back on the islands, so the whole concept was sorta new to him, especially this weird healing stuff. His fingers teased with the splinter through his cheek, wiggling it against his tongue. It would be kinda funny to pull it out and then try to squirt water out of the hole in his cheek, but that would require pulling it out and then finding water and also someone who would think he was funny, which sounded like a lot, so he settled for fucking with it and waiting for Alfyn.

By the time he got to him, Alfyn’s nose was plugged with a rag that was either completely soaked in blood or just red, but maybe it was red because it had been soaked in blood before. He looked Castys up and down, and Castys showed off his arm gash since it was very painful. Alfyn nodded, beckoning Castys to stand. “Nothing you’ve got’s pressing enough to use my magic on, but I’ll still get you fixed up. You’re…Castys, right?”

“That’s my name.” Castys sat on the little table, the spots of blood on it soaking into his pants, which kind of sucked, but what wasn’t dirty on this ship, anyway? “So why can’t I take out the splinters myself?”

Alfyn laughed a little, coming back over with tweezers and a metal bucket that had a bunch of other splinters in it. “I don’t trust you lot to get them out completely. If you do it wrong, little bits can get left behind.” He then started pulling out Castys’s splinters the right way, which seemed to be to do it slow and to use tweezers, but Castys could be wrong since he was a little distracted by all of his little wounds hurting all over again. Alfyn did the one in his cheek last, and once it was out Castys poked at the hole left behind with his tongue despite the pain, which got a sigh out of Alfyn instead of a laugh.

“Please don’t make the wound worse, Castys.”

“Sorry.” He was then a very still and patient and well-behaved boy while Alfyn cleaned all of his wounds, arm gash included. Whatever liquid Alfyn was pouring on everything stung a lot, but he sat still so he didn’t make things more difficult for Alfyn, who looked really damn tired now that Castys was paying attention.

“Alright, your arm and cheek are going to need stitches, so please keep holding still like you’ve been doing.”

“They used to call me statue boy.” Kind of funny considering the time he almost did get turned into a statue, but that was a joke for just him. He clenched his fists and Alfyn approached with the needle and thread. He’d been through this more than once, he’d be fine, it was all things he’d felt before. The sensation of the needle poking into his skin, the tug of thread following behind, the hand on his chin…

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard not to laugh at the faces you’re making.”

“I’m trying to focus here, Castys, come on. You don’t want this to be a super nasty scar, do you?”

“Uh…I don’t really care. As long as I can still eat food and stuff what does it matter? I don’t see anyone else besides you, and I don’t think you care either.”

“I-I don’t, but…maybe there will be other people, someday?”

“Even then, whatever. If they’re scared off by a scar on my face they’re probably losers, anyway.”

“So you’ll fit right in, then!”

“And yet you still hang out with me all of the time.”

“Yeah, ‘cause there’s literally no one else, dumbass. It’s not like I have options.”

“Sucks to suck. I’m…I’m okay with just you, though.”

“...Me too, Castys. But that might change if you don’t sit still.”

His scars hurting more than his actual wounds was stupid, but it was certainly happening. He left Alfyn’s quarters in sort of a daze, trying to bury everything the stitches had brought to the surface. Focus on anything and everything else, on the awful food, on talking with Kamon, on getting more respect from the other crewmates, on drinking stolen ale, on the share of the treasure he was promised once they reached land.

But that night, lying awake in his hammock as the crew snored around him, his scars still hurting, the pain cutting through the warm haze of the alcohol, he didn’t feel any less alone.

Next→

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101 @yet-another-heathen @galaxywhump @starnight-whump @his-unspoken-words @misspelledwitch @suspicious-whumping-egg @pumpkin-spice-whump @painsandconfusion @i-can-even-burn-salad @befuddled-calico-whump @whumpinggrounds @whump-queen @whumpedydump  @theelvishcowgirl