#sad vibes

[softgothbabe]

Fear of abandonment 🤝🏻 The desire to leave before I'll inevitably be left

[k1exe]

Ｖｉｒｔｕａｌ Ｏａｓｉｓ ｖｈｓ

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https://www.instagram.com/k1_exe?igsh=ZXZrbjlmdHkybWM5&utm_source=qr

[welcominthehell]

[shoujo-dump]

Hoteri Hotette First Kiss

[hollow--graphic]

A quien tengo que rezarle para que las cosas vayan bien contigo?

[spicysidesalad]

Everyone wants the emo girl with the crazy clothes, the rocking body and the big sad eyes until they realize she is actually sad all the time and it’s not just part of the aesthetic.

[pastelghoul]

Three Simple Words - Kylo Ren x Reader

Imagine Kylo Ren breaks your heart and doesn’t seem to care

There you stood, tired but with a stoic look on your face, glaring at the man you now called the Supreme Leader. He stood ahead of you, looking out into the vacuum of space; the stars twinkled so brightly against the darkness, beautiful in their own destruction as they burnt up thousands of lightyears away.

“Tell me you love me, Kylo.” You said firmly, watching him intently. Yet there was no reply. As though you didn’t even exist to him.

“Kylo, i need to hear you say it. Tell me, please.” Again your pleas were met with silence.

“Fine. I won’t stand here and let you use me as your play-thing any longer. We’re through.” You turned around to walk away, only getting so far before his voice brought you to a halt.

“Ok.” He said nonchalantly, not even turning around to face you.

Venomous, boiling hot anger rose up inside of you, bubbling in the pit of your stomach and threatening to choke you as you fought the urge to scream at him.

Spinning around, you marched up to him and forced him to turn around and face you. That stupid mask blocked his face from your view.

“Take that damned thing off.”

Calmly, slowly, he removed the helmet with a mechanical hiss, placing it on the table beside him. Once he turned to face you, you laid into him.

“How dare you, you toy with me, humiliate me in front of staff, make me out to be a fool, your play-thing to be-“ you were cut off as his lips crashed into your own, his hands forcefully cupping your face as you stood on your tip-toes to reach him.

Normally you’d melt into his embrace, welcoming the aggressive show of affection, however not today. You pushed him off of you, glaring death at him.

“I am not yours to be toyed with. I have waited so long for you to say those three words, every time you brush me off as though it doesn’t matter. Well it does matter - to me. If i mattered to you at all, you’d give me those three simple words.”

Kylo looked down at you, brows furrowed as his eyes scanned your face. Then he cupped your face gingerly with one hand, lifting your chin with the other.

“I don’t care.” Tears brimmed your eyes, threatening to spill over. How could he? For months you’d been by his side, his intimate confidant, only for him to turn around and say it meant nothing?

“You’re a monster!” You cried, ripping away from his grasp. “How could you act like what we had meant nothing to you?” You nearly choked on your tears, the feeling of your body being torn apart with three simple words was almost too much to handle.

If you knew loving someone could hurt this badly, like the feeling of your entire being collapsing in on itself, tearing apart from the inside out as your heart pounded with a fiery, sorrowful ache, why you’d have never allowed yourself to fall for him in the first place.

Your throat tightened as did your chest, an endless array of thoughts rushing through your head of what-ifs and why. Why he chose you to torment mercilessly for months, why he chose you to intimately torture at late hours of the night, why he chose to make you fall for him.

“When you’re finished, get out.” Kylo said, grabbing his helmet and brushing past you as though you were just another member of the sanitation crew.

Outside, Kylo stood still for a moment, now breathing deeply as he bit his lip in frustration. With a loud bang, he slammed his helmet into the wall, over and over again as sparks and shards of metal flew in all directions.

“DAMN IT!” He shouted, crushing the remnants of the helmet and dropping them to the floor like ruble. His face was red with fury, his dark curls partially obscuring his vision as he blinked away tears; All because he couldn’t say three simple words.

Three simple words, having torn you down in an instant.

[wastedpoets]

Surviving Girlhood: (And wishing you hadn’t) by Skyler Scott

(Link: Surviving Girlhood: (And wishing you hadn’t) https://a.co/d/7eExNpv )

[002yb]

If I may, an Au where Jason and dick were together before Jason's death, so when Jason comes back it's Nightwing, not Batman he tries to get to kill the Joker.

The only tragedy is that Jason feels he has to force Dick's hand. He gives Dick an ultimatum as if Dick would ever refuse him. He tells Dick to choose as if there's a contest.

'Him or me.' Jason mourns, oblivious to the reality that Dick chose Jason a lifetime ago.

Jason anticipates betrayal. He waits for disappointment. What Jason doesn’t know is that loss twisted Dick until he broke and with those pieces he drew new lines and boundaries that begin and end with Jason: Dick's legacy, his Robin, his little wing.

There aren't enough bullets in the gun he's given, but that doesn't stop Dick from aiming where it will hurt the worst. It doesn't stop him from emptying it, seventeen rounds - vicious and brutal and cruel.

Dick shoots where Jason was mutilated; his ankle and knee and hip, his shoulders, his ribs. He spent months tormenting himself with Jason's autopsy report - mourning every wound and every desecration until it was burned into his memory, until it was all he saw and all he dreamed. Dick could aim to kill, but he wants Joker to hurt. He wants him to suffer.

Dick knows Joker was laughing when he killed Jason. It doesn't matter how filled with rage Dick is or what resolve vengeance blinds him with, Dick isn't laughing. All the anguish that's been caught in his chest is torn from him - a strangled, wounded, inhuman sound.

The only tragedy is that Jason thinks Dick didn't mourn him, that he hasn't felt his absence every day since Jason was taken away from him. It's Dick's greatest regret and his greatest failure that this boy would think for even a moment that Dick wasn't changed by him in life and death, that Dick didn't love him viscerally, unconditionally.

Jason pulls away from the carnage, staggering back from Dick’s line of fire. There's something helpless in his expression, something young although Jason is so much older than last Dick saw him. But Dick doesn't see him through the tears that well up in his eyes. He's blinded by hurt and regret. He chokes on all his grief because fuck this terror that's haunted and hurt Jason.

(And damn Dick, too, for not doing this sooner).

Seventeen rounds and it's not enough. It doesn't hurt enough. It's not personal enough, so Dick tosses the gun and stalks forward with bare fists and bared teeth. Joker went for Dick's heart; Dick will take Joker's - he'll steal every beat and give it back to the boy Joker took from him.

Dick still isn't laughing, but neither is Joker. He smiles though, all bite to match Dick’s snarl. His is a madness not even Joker has known and it's clear in Joker's eyes what he thinks; Dick feels it, too: oh, so this is a monster.

"See?" Joker asks through blood and broken teeth, a swollen face and gasping breaths and Dick hates him. He hates him, he hates him, he hates him. "Hehehe, you see!"

Dick doesn't see anything but opportunity to lay a devil to rest and give a boy he loves peace. It doesn't matter to Dick what happens from here, just let Jason rest. Let that boy rest.

Dick will cross whatever lines he needs if it's Jason on the other side. He'll go to whatever lengths because Dick should have done this years ago; he should have followed through, but Jason was gone and Dick thinks he wanted to torment himself with his failures.

No more, Dick thinks to himself. No more.

Jason has always been the braver between them though - always painstakingly, heartrendingly kind.

It's why Jason stops him. It's why Jason wraps himself around Dick and forces him back and keeps Dick away. He stops Dick from crossing that line, holding Dick tightly, fiercely because Jason recognizes Dick's torment and how Jason's demands will add to it once all the adrenaline passes.

And Jason can't - he can't kill Dick in that way.

But Dick can. He will. He would do anything to give this ghost of a boy peace so that he might move on. Dick has to let him - he has to...

Dick fights him, jerking in Jason's hold to finish what he started. Desperate, frenzied, mad. His voice breaks when he screams and Jason's heart breaks along with it because it's everything he's felt for years.

"He took you from me." Dick cries, holding fast to Jason and letting go of everything else to cling to him. Hands bloodied and bruised and trembling because they can't pull Jason close enough. "He took you from me!"

[nembluryou]

POOR GANGLE

[vxmpire-vxlle]

[welcominthehell]

[studyblrwithcoffee]

Really proud of this one 🌌🌑

[mazyb0i]

For @galaxy-fucked ‘s fanfiction “Throwing Stones In Glass Houses” on Archive Of Our Own.

I love you man, your fan-fiction is phenomenal, I’m glad I found a friend in you.

Without neon

[hollow--graphic]

Lo prescindible que soy para tí quiebra mi alma.

[mummers-of-the-heart]

To My Dearest One (Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader)

Premise: Leon comes home after a mission.

Sad Vibes/Slight Comfort, Song fic

Word count: 1072

Content warning: Not beta read or really edited if I'm honest. Vague Infinite Darkness and RE6 spoilers. Leon and his whole deal, especially post-RE4 stuff. Depression. Isolation. Implied suicidal thoughts. Reader is sort of a living emotional crutch for Leon. Also reader is not quite all right. I can't write domestic fluff for the life of me. Look, the grammar is going to be a mess, I constantly switch between using APA, AP, and MLA on a regular basis for professional stuff. My brain is gonna zone out here.

Song fic time and first time writing Leon. Came up with the idea while I was studying for my interrogation test for history and I had a concert where this song was performed playing in the background. Finished writing this in between studying for my psych exam in a couple days. Hope you enjoy (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)

Song: Itoshiki Hito E (To My Dearest One) by Kotobuki Reiji (CV: Morikubo Showtaro), Translation by Utapri No Sekai (slight variation by me)

The apartment is quiet besides the sounds of light music and cooking as he enters. Despite living there for a few years, it lacks much character causing it to feel hollow. One of the only things proving that it was Leon's apartment was the sun damaged photos, yellowed with time.

One of them from years ago as he visited Sherry on her birthday. The smile on the girl's face. Claire.

It all felt so distant.

Everything grew out of reach. Nothing seemed to last for a broken man, especially for one who had the bright sparkle in his eyes beaten out so violently.

As he approaches the kitchen, the smell of onion and herbs wafting through the air, Leon notices the nostalgic yellow tinted light that colors the white walls.

At the stove-top was a familiar figure standing before a pot of soup.

You.

A heart made of glass is always... hurting anything that tries to touch it. Yet you embrace it so tight without fear.

His arms wrap around your waist as his head sits upon yours in this rehearsed dance. He smells your shampoo as he takes a deep breath.

"Welcome back, Leon.” You say in a light tone as if he wasn't gone for a little over a week. "I'm making tortellini soup tonight."

He can hear how much you missed him. Even if you don't say it, those feelings tinge your voice.

"Mmm," he sighs with closed eyes, "That sounds good. Haven't had that in awhile."

Leon’s hold on you is strong. He wants to savor the moment.

There’s an itch in the back of his mind; one that would never leave. That this relationship would only hurt you. That he was taking advantage of your kindness. That he could never express just how much he loved the sense of normalcy you brought.

As if sensing his emotions, you quietly grab his left hand with a softness Leon wasn’t used to feeling.

Your hands were light compared to his calloused hands, which were covered in blood. Regrets marred his digits.

The plush feeling of your lips is unfamiliar to his inner wrist. This intimate touch caused Leon to melt.

A simple touch, a simple act, a simple situation in your eyes but it doesn’t feel so simple to him.

A clink as the spoon is set down. You turn around to face him.

But such happiness is sometimes, through cruelty of God, suddenly in front of my eyes… disappears and it makes me so scared.

The look in your eyes, how greatly it contrasted the steely eyes he would see everyday. Fresh eyes that didn’t twist with fear, changed. Not hardened by painful experiences. The look in your eyes is different.

Tired but understanding.

It is something that Leon was grateful for. A calm in a life that he felt so little choice or support in. A happiness from not feeling alone.

A deep hunger satiated but it caused a fear to rise.

What if you saw what he faces everyday? What if you got hurt even more than before? What if… you left?

They kept scratching at the back of his mind.

I live only for your sake. This voice will take an oath, to my dearest one.

Night carried on. Dinner came and went. No discussion of his work.

The ticking of the clock counting down the seconds before the feeling of the mattress would soon greet the two of you. The nighttime routine felt so unfamiliar. He was a stranger to this domestic moment.

“Apparently Sara,” your coworker, Leon had to remind himself as you spoke, “had decided to drag me out while you were gone. Saying that I was being too focused on work again.”

You roll your eyes in a familiar manner as you wipe the skin of your face with a cloth. There’s a soft, tired look, one that is aware of reality.

“Right.” Leon responds. “I already know you were hunched over your desk, typing away at a proposal looking like Gollum." He chuckles as he remembers the first time he saw you at work.

“Hey.” You pout cutely in response, before sitting on the bathroom counter and sighing. “Let me see your face.”

You put out your hand expectantly and he obliges as he puts his chin in your hand. Reaching with your other to grab his cloth and wetting it with water, you smile sweetly with the look that Leon loved.

A careful caress with the cloth as you clean his face. Your thumb traces over faint scars, reminders of the memories he can never escape. There’s a tightening in his heart at this touch.

As you finish and wring out the cloth, you turn back to face him still sitting on the counter. The softness of your hand shifts to cradle the side of his face.

In response, he lifts your chin with his fingers and gives that charming smile of his. “I have the world in my hands.”

“Not sure about that.” You reply softly. “Pretty sure I got it in mine.”

As you get into bed, due to a learned habit after living with Leon for four months, get into the side of the bed away from the door. He lies across from you and lets out a heavy sigh, as he feels exhaustion wash over him.

His hand finds its way to your waist as the light turns off. Leon’s face burrows itself in the crook of your neck, like something was commanding him to get as close as possible to you. To find the core to the warmth. The rhythm of your breath, a lullaby, gently sends him to sleep as his fingers curl atop your skin slightly.

Even at that moment, the scratching turned into digging.

Your eyes heavy and on the verge of the precipice, a whisper drifts from Leon’s lips as he is asleep.

“My only… Make me happy when…”

Will it be sent to you? Will it be conveyed? Words will never be enough… for this feeling of mine, to my dearest one.

By the time the rays of the sun bounce off your gentle skin, Leon is awake and doesn’t move as he watches you sleep peacefully. A smile creeps onto his face as he notices a line of drool.

In that moment, the man, who long lost his faith and wishes, says a silent prayer.

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