#JUST HURT
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this is an insane request… i like it 😋
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If I Could Hold You for a Minute
I’d tell them put me back in it
A/n- Another Remus one shot, I just finished fully listening to Unreal Unearth and my god. I have no words. This just kinda came out and I didn't reread it, so I hope it makes sense.
Warnings: Mentions of injury and death.
He lay still and motionless in his hospital bed as you brushed a damp cloth over his forehead. The full moon hadn’t even come to pass yet and Remus was already very poor. Chills and aches racked his frame and he struggled from class to class until you ushered him away from the walls and into the hospital wind.
Madam Pomfrey had accepted the both of you quickly and quietly, she assessed the damages, provided him with potions, and you with instructions for his care. You’d done this more than enough times to know how to help him through his transformations, but they had been worse recently. Taking more than their share from the boy who had almost nothing left to give.
But, if his cup runneth empty, you were always there to pour into it.
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You met Remus in first year, you sleepwalked horribly. Your parent’s called it an anxious habit, your nervous, shy demeanor running over into a nocturnal form. It had led you to the edge of the grounds one night. You’d been shaken awake by Professor McGonagle, her panicked voice asking you where you’d come from. She’d taken you under her arm and pulled you back into the castle.
It wasn’t until you were inside that you took stock of your surroundings, on the other side of her being partially carried by Madam Pomfrey was a lanky, sandy haired boy. He was covered in cuts and bruises, and only half conscious. You recognized him after a bit, he was a boy from Gryffindor; and though you didn’t know his name you knew he was in your year, much too young to be in the condition he was in.
He had been taken to the hospital wing and you had been escorted back to your own dorm room, but you couldn’t sleep. Sick with worry about the boy and wondering what had brought him into such a state.
The next morning you went to the hospital wing after your classes. That’s where you found him, sleeping soundly in one of the beds closest to the wall. You approached carefully, not wanting to wake him and unsure of just what you were doing there. As you neared the bed the boy began to stir and you froze in place.
One of his eyes blearily opened to look at you, catching your eye he sighed and closed them again. “Whatever you saw, just forget it, okay?” Your eyebrows knit together and your thoughts screeched to a halt at his words. Forget it?
“No.”
That was all you said in return. His eyes opened slowly as he shifted them in your direction, not moving a muscle from his position in the bed. “Pardon?” He replied, “no.” You said simply, “I won’t forget it. You kept me up all night worrying, so you owe me an explanation so I can sleep tonight.” You sat on the edge of his bed, careful not to shift or push him in any way that might cause him more pain.
“Why do you care?” He asks, his face pinched like he smelled something foul. “My mum says I care too much, says it’s in my nature.” You offer with a sympathetic smile. One that says ‘I’m sorry I have to bother you’ instead of ‘I’m sorry your so fucked up’. He appreciated that.
“I’m Remus.” He said.
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That’s how the two of you went on for the next five years. You became one of his closest friends, and his crutch to lean on each month. As the other boys started to join you in assisting him, starting with Sirius, then James, and eventually Peter as well, you found that he never needed you less. Someone needed to read to him when he couldn’t hold the book to his eyes, someone had to feed him when he refused to eat. Those were jobs reserved especially for you, branded with your name alone.
He does his best to be gentle with you in his worst moments, although he doesn't always succeed. You meet him with the same fierce tone and bullheaded stubbornness if he tries to push you away. There was something so comforting in your insistence to stay, he stopped trying to understand it a long time ago. It was easier to revel in the feeling over having someone who wouldn’t leave, even if given every opportunity.
“You know I love you, right”
He looked at you so gravely in that moment, like he was willing you to understand how serious he was. You smiled down at him, wrapping the bandage securely around his forearm before resting it in your lap, “of course I do.” His face dropped, his eyes falling to his lap, “good.” He said firmly. “What’s wrong?” You ask, a little knowing smile playing on your face, “Nothing-” He looks up at you then, seeing the small smirk playing upon your features, “nevermind, I take it back you arse” He says with a huff, still allowing his forearm to rest in your lap playing with your finger and tracing the lines of your palms. You take his hand in yours then, “you wouldn’t do that, just like I don’t need to say it back.” He raises his eyebrows at you then, his fingers stilling in yours. “Oh- well I suppose you don’t” he pulls his hand out of yours, but you’re quicker, taking it back in both of yours.
“I tell you all the time. Everything I do for you is because I love you, Remus. Every night I spend here, every bandage I’ve changed and every second I give to you is because I love you. Haven’t you noticed?”
Your voice shakes as you tell him the truth you’ve known for four years now. He just stares at you for a moment, and it’s that moment you’d like to live in, because the next few seconds spelled your demise so clearly.
Remus leans forward, pressing his lips to yours in a quick fleeting kiss. Your eyes are blown wide when he pulls away, you can’t stop the movement of your body as your lips connect with his again. It’s pure and sweet, it’s exactly what you wanted your first kiss to be.
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The two years to follow were the happiest of your life, you had amazing friends and the sweetest, most doting boyfriend you could ask for. Remus was always good to you, but after you had started officially dating he only got better. He hadn’t changed much, but all the things you loved about him were amplified.
When you graduated the war was raging on, it was whiplash. The efervescent sun of your youth burned out into a darkness that showed no mercy. It devoured you friends and everything you loved in an instant. You didn;t know what to believe, or who to trust and it made you feel weak and helpless against the world crumbling underneath your feet. Everything you knew was lost to you. Everything except Remus.
He wasn’t the same, but neither were you. It would take time and effort to rebuild yourselves into versions of the people you once were. But you were doing it together. In your darkest moment, when you asked him why. Why he even bothered with you? His response was simple:
“I care too much about you, it’s in my nature.”
That was your mantra and you pulled one another through the years. The dragging became less of a herculean task and more of a loving embrace as you lived for one another, day by day. Year by year.
Even now, as you lay next to him one last time, clasping his hand in yours, turning your head to find his face, scarred and torn from years of transformation and the wounds from the battle coming to a close around you.
You had a good run, your boy and you. Looking into his eyes then you see the little boy from the woods that night, his big brown eyes peering into yours, resigned to fight no longer. He looked back at you, he saw the eyes that looked into his and changed his hold world in one night, in that moment he knew he was content for those eyes to be the last thing he sees; and you knew if anyone asked, was it worth it? Would you do it again if you knew this is where it would bring you? You’d tell them
“Put me back in it”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#the marauders#harry potter#hurt#just hurt#I've cried too much today
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Five Stages
Tagging @dashesofink cause look what I did
Summary: Going through the five stages of grief after Emily passes away
Pairings: Emily Prentiss x gn!reader
Word Count:
Warnings: grief, crying
A/N: I am painfully sad every time I watch S6E18 of Criminal Minds
Denial:
You stared at JJ as she walked into the room, eyes glazed over.
"She never made it off the table."
Penelope began to sob, David and Ashley letting out sighs as if they had been holding their breath the entire time.
You couldn't even cry. Spencer got up from his seat and hugged JJ. You just sat there.
The team slowly dispersed, leaving you alone with Hotch. He sat across from you and just waited. He recognized the specific grief you were going through. Losing the one you love is a special trauma. Hours passed when he finally coaxed you to stand, not even using words, just taking your hand in his and nodding to the door.
You couldn't move for days after, laying on Morgan's couch unable to eat or speak. You would just stare. It had been almost a week and you still hadn't cried. It wasn't real if you didn't react.
Anger:
You swung the mallet and let out a guttural scream, sobbing fiercely as you swung over and over again. The wall was a complete mess afterward. So were you.
Derek watched from the doorway, frowning. His friend was in pain and he had no idea how to make it easier for you.
You had smashed the pieces of the wall to bits. He had taken her from you. They didn't do enough to save her. If only you had been there sooner- It was everyone's fault. Including yours.
Bargaining:
You had never been religious but every night since Emily, you prayed to every god and goddess you could name to bring her back or take you instead. Your thoughts involved a lot of 'I promise I'll never ___ again!' and 'If I get her back, I'll do everything for her. Chores, work, everything.' Until one day someone suggested that you weren't meant to save her. It wasn't your fault, but it had happened because of fate. You cried to Dave about it that night.
"It's... Not my fault... Right?"
Depression:
The numbness of tears falling down your cheeks, hitting the page of the newspaper you're reading. You don't even feel them welling in your eyes, you don't feel them streaming down your cheeks, you don't notice them dropping off your jaw until they hit the paper and make a sound. You blink a few times and wipe your cheeks- Where did that come from? Emily. Her face flooded your mind and you began to sob just thinking about her.
Acceptance:
You were getting better. It had been 7 months and you were finally able to do things without thinking about her every second of every day. Your dreams of her coming home had slowed to about once every week or so. You talked to your mutual friends without tearing up at the mere mention of her name. You had finally begun to live somewhat normally again.
Your phone rang. It was a number you didn't recognize.
"Y/L/N."
"Good afternoon, sunshine."
Your heart shattered all over again. It was her voice on the line.
#hurt/comfort#but without the comfort#just hurt#angst#i kinda dig it#prentiss x you#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss#prentiss x reader#emily prentiss fic
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Sometimes you don't want to feel anything at all because all there is to feel is pain. And for a while, you just want to un-hurt.
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No single line has ever wrecked me as hard as this one from the Good Place and I think about it constantly
#the good place#i'm binge watching it again and it just takes me out so hard#i get lost in the sauce thinking about this quote#the idea that those who hurt you are capable of being better people and then seeing them change and grow just hits me right between the rib#who am i kidding it stabs me like the senators stabbed Caesar#anyway#icy does a tag ramble
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lead balloon (the tumblr post that saved me)
if this comic resonated with you, it would mean the world to me if you donated to this palestinian family's escape fund.
--
no creative notes because this isn't that kind of comic.
I know I don’t owe any of you anything but I still felt compelled to write about my long term absence. And I feel far enough away from the dangerous spot I was in to be able to make this comic. I have a therapist now, and she agreed that making this could be a very cathartic gesture, and the start of properly leaving these thoughts behind me. I am still, at seemingly random times, blindsided by fleeting desires to kill myself. They’re always passing urges, but it’s disarming, and uncomfortable. I worry sometimes that my brain’s spent so long thinking only about suicide that it’s forgotten how to think about anything else. Like, now that I've opened that door for myself, I'll never be able to fully shut it again. But I’m trying my best to encourage my mind in other directions. We'll see how that goes.
I am still donating all proceeds from my store to Palestinian causes. So far, I've donated over $15K, not including donations coming from my own pocket or the fundraising streams which jointly raised around $10K. In the time since I made my initial post about where this money would be going, the focus has shifted from aid organisations to directly donating to escape funds.
If you'd like to do the same, you can look at Operation Olive Branch, which hosts hundreds of Palestinian escape funds or donate to Safebow, which has helped facilitate the safe crossing and securing of important medical procedures for over 150 at-risk palestinians since the beginning of the genocide.
#cw: suicidal ideation#cw: suicide#cw: self harm#cw: mental health#cw: depression#i made the balloon the main representation of my self destructive urges for a reason but im not going to explain it#i tried to keep a lot of the details in this vague#it would be my worst nightmare if this comic encouraged someone to hurt themselves#so. please dont#for a long time even the thought of making this comic felt so insipid and narcissistic#with the state of the world as it is#having the only threat to your life be yourself felt so privileged and trite and shameful#but doing this comic made me sit down and process things in full#and im just. very grateful i didn't give in to my thoughts back when i sincerely felt i'd be more useful to the world dead#i also feel the need to say that this wont represent everyone's battle with mental illness. its unfortunately different for all of us#there is no fix-all#and im afraid this might be one of those comics that either resonates a lot or misses the target by a mile#i made it for myself foremost. and now that its done im glad i did it#thank you for reading#and please stay alive#stillindigo art#stillindigo comics
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
#warm up#writeblr#this one has bothered me for a bit#any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime#hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying#as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing#like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts#why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge#''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it#ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace#if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!!#men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible#ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing#the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....
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[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]
a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury
#comic art#comics#original comic#chronic pain#carpal tunnel#tendonitis#my art#original#edit: what a delightful surprise to see this take off#this was made for class on very low fuel and very few thoughts and late at night and exhausted#the prompt was just a wordless narrative essay. three pages. and i had nothing and no ideas#and my head hurt and i was too tired to think about doing any of the like. research and mind mapping and ideating i'd do otherwise#but my arm hurt#so i decided to do a thing about arm hurty#i'm surprised to see so many people finding it resonating with them#but then again i shouldn't be. the universal lies in the specific#i should make more things about smaller stuff
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your love returns in tragedy (ID in alt)
#farcille#falin touden#marcille donato#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#coming face to face with the consequences of acting out of love - marcille u will always be famous#dunmeshi is really a series that keeps on moving bc it's about so many different characters and centered on the journey#rather than like... introspectively on one singular individual so i dont think we see marcille dwell on it but we can see her fatigue#her shock and surprise in the recent ep “don't hurt her she's just confused” Gah. desperately trying to grasp everything thats going on and#not to lose hope. bc undoubtedly the remains she put together was falin's - that short moment of reprieve the party had was with falin#she was able to bring her back her magic did it!! but the violence the fatal swings was not falin at all.#just pondering about holding that guilt... it's such a huge responsibility to be in charge of life in the first place and yet it is#a burden she'll keep trudging with. defying the natural orders to keep the people she love alive... i Lauv her...#also shared sentiment with the rest of the fandom but God. Chimera Falin... she is Everything....#ruporas art
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i know we all laugh (mostly fondly) about the paper-thin plots in porn that only exist to make the sex happen, but i was reading some old stargate fic over the weekend, and i really think we're sleeping on the paper-thin hurt/comfort plot that only exists to force the characters to FEEL THINGS.
like, is this scenario realistic? no. does it make any rational sense? no. does it provide a built-in excuse for a character to collapse, bloody and disoriented, into the arms of his beloved/friend/partner? obviously, that's the whole point of this exercise.
i love it. it's my favorite thing in the world.
#writing#hurt/comfort#much like smut it operates on the assumption that we all know what we're here for#obviously you CAN write a fully coherent plot with hurt/comfort elements just like you can write one with smutty elements#and those are lovely too#but there's something so charming about fics that are like#'look we all know what you came here for. i don't have to explain myself.'
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want runs deep in you, heavy and thick, and the dam is creaking under its weight.
want is like dust, thousands of years worth of dust on your heavy shoulders and you dare not move. if you stay very still and keep to yourself maybe no one will notice.
want is like grief, love left unclaimed. want is like hunger and you are famished.
wanting is dangerous, so you smother it.
#good omens#ineffable husbands#crowley#aziraphale#aziraphale x crowley#myart#i planned to do this proper but honestly the sketchiness just adds to it#aziraphale and skin hunger keeps me up at night#the overlap of them being on “the wrong sides” and them reading as older gay men hurts my soul#nsft#a little#tried to keep it vague
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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Needlessly close reading and long commentary on chapter 57 and how the audience actually has an extremely limited view on what Marcille has been like over the course of her life.
I am once again thinking about how pre-dungeon Marcille is so quiet and stoic that she seems like a completely different person. How jarring chapter 57 is for the audience. Like you have Marcille, who has been just the most blindingly expressive person with resting baby face
And then the chapter drops a title page of Marcille hearing from Falin for the first time in four years and it's like.
Who is that. Genuinely. Would you even realize that's Marcille without the context clues?
And then the chapter just keeps coming in with the sucker punches.
We have SEEN Marcille meet strangers. It was never with this understated of a smile.
literally who the hell is this. the few times the audience gets to see some Signature Marcille Faces that they're used to is when she finally gets to see Falin again
when she's testing out her new spells
(and when Laios and Falin are fantasizing about her being their damsel in distress, funnily enough)
And then finally. Finally you get to a fully recognizable Marcille when she fucking DIES and comes back to life to geek out about necromancy.
We know she loves magic. We know she loves Falin. So it's not so surprising that she wouldn't be able to keep a mask up when thinking or talking about the things she loves. But why the mask in the first place? Where does it come from? It's tempting to think that, maybe, Falin's departure just hurt her so much that it turned her into a quiet person.
But that's only half true. If you go back, the first instance you see of this incredibly mild personality is actually introduced much earlier, in chapter 17.
What if she was always like that. What if her default after her father died was to hold people at arm's length, to never really emote past being polite and friendly. What if Falin was the first person who was able to bring her out of her shell, and when she left, Marcille just went back to how she was.
And when comparing her detached demeanour with someone else...
It's not exact, but wouldn't you say there's a resemblance? Wouldn't you think she might be trying her best to imitate what she saw of her own mother working as an accomplished mage?
It would certainly explain why she's hiding behind her portrait in her nightmare, at least.
We aren't told that Marcille has been distancing herself from everyone around her using a mature and dignified personality she modelled off her mother. But we sure as hell are shown it, I think.
#marcille donato#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi manga spoilers#dungeon meshi spoilers#this got so fucking long#it was originally just supposed to be 'haha marcille's old coworkers probably know her as the super serious one'#and then i started connecting dots and it was all over for me#anyway babygirl went right back to depressionville after falin left and it's like. wow. falin doesn't even know how long it's been#that's gotta hurt.#dunmeshi panel meta#marcilleposting
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We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore. We were so close. Then they flavored it mango and now it's taboo to criticize it anymore. People don't ask if they're allowed to vape indoors, they aren't considerate of people who may have health problems that are triggered by the chemicals or if it just bothers them, people don't care that they're supporting an industry built on corruption and greed, they can't see it draining their pockets and much less their health. We were so close to smoking not being cool anymore.
#i hate hate HATE nicotine after watching my parents smoke when i grew up#its gross and bad for your money and bad for your health#and i get it. theres SO MANY socioeconomic factors that make it a complicated issue.#you CANT blame smokers.#but it feels like people are just accepting the institution for what it is bc now it tastes good#bitch just chew gum jfc#it doesn't matter if its an industry issue. we have seen in the past that making it “uncool” hurts the industry#make nicotine uncool again PLEASE#grumbles
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FNAF movie Vanessa doesn’t know Moon’s crimes,,
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#moondrop#fnaf moon#fnaf vanessa#fnaf vanny#vanessa afton#vanessa shelly#fnaf#fnaf movie#security breach#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#MOON MENTIONED 🌙🌙🌙#seeing I did sun had to do moon next!!#Vanessa doesn’t know how evil this lil guy is#she just doesn’t like seeing em get hurt 😔#moon is definitely using Vanessa’s kindness to his advantage BAHA#Can’t get blinded if girly is protecting him#I think Vanny recognizes this and wants to turn the lights on more
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