#cope fic
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It's a wonderful life
@glitterypirateduck
So this was inspired by the movie it's a wonderful life of course. I nearly lost my husband to pancreatitis and during that time in the hospital to cope besides watching my at the time 4 month old I really got into the COD fandom. The premise for the character of Goblin is that she got iskaied and is now stuck in the COD universe while at the same time she's able to look at her phone and realizes that there's a copy of her back home. This is me expressing the fact that (Goblin) is the lingering feelings the fear I have while I've outwardly have had to move on.
Why it's a wonderful life is mainly due to the way he wished that he never existed, the alien feeling of seeing everything around you be normal except it's not. Plus for the Comfort at the end of the movie too.
tw: Suicidal thoughts, Hurt-Comfort
Simon didn't bother to close the door to his truck, or wait for the elevator, all he could think about was the last message Goblin had sent him. Do you think this is some horrible wish like in It's a wonderful life? Do you think if I jump off that bridge I'll just wake up.
He knew the pain of what was Christmas but she had been spiraling that drain he wasn't going to let her fall into it. He jammed the spare key he had into the lock and looked around the dark apartment. "Goblin." He said looking around with panic itching at the back of his throat as he went through her apartment. He was still in the window of helping her out if she decided to do something stupid.
He found her laying in the dark just looking at her phone. He could see the glow of the screen lighting up her tear stained face. "It will be his first Christmas tomorrow." Goblin just croaks out as she sits up and looks at him.
Simon just stands there silently as he can hear people and the loud laughter of a baby coming from her phone as she just gives a pained smile. Goblin had become more and more withdrawn which was expected from his perspective but he could tell she wasn't expecting it to hurt. His heavy footsteps guided him over to her bed and he sits down looking down at her. He takes a sniff of the air, "Have you been drinking?"
"Yeah..."
He looked at the can on the floor, "If I remember... you made the funniest face when we had you try it."
"Still tastes like piss." She chimes in.
"Come on sweetheart lets get some food in you." Simon says finally turning on the lights. Though he quickly goes to properly park his truck... he's not terribly surprised to find out she hasn't moved. Simon pulled on her arm watching her sit up as he helped her wobble to the kitchen. She hid her face on the counter sitting at a stool as her apartment still looked barely lived in... far more of a bachalor pad than anything really. But she was still hoping that she would go home.
He placed the plate of beef stirfry in front of her as she looked at it sadly. "I normally love Christmas... I love December... " She starts off softly, "It's when my family throws all of their parties." She smiled softly, "We back load a lot of it. We have two parties... an adult only party early December and then my Aunt's big Christmas Eve party. And I'm missing them..."
Simon leaned against the wall with his arms folded over his chest. He wasn't wearing his signature baklava, his rusty brown hair was visible as well as his warm brown eyes with his mouth covered by a black mask. "I know your background... but to go from a family that had probably 100 people related to each other to suddenly being by yourself..." Goblin said just picking at her food.
"What happened to me is something for me to deal with."
"But it's why I hate to complain around you. You've been through so much...."
"What has two legs and bleeds?" Simon asks seeing Goblin just start to smile, "Half a dog." He hears her tell tale snort. "There's the Goblin noise."
"Oh shut up Simon."
"Nah don't think you'd like that much." He watched her eat before he sighed softly, "Goblin." He watched her look over at him, "Maybe next year we can... decorate or do something. If I'm still here that is."
"Simon... you're still around in 2023... but if... if I'm still here by the time next Christmas rolls around... I'd like that." Simon could hear the pain in her voice at the thought of being here still but he couldn't stop the way his feet moved over to her as he pulled the smaller woman into a hug.
"Even if you don't I won't leave you behind...now finish up you're food." She looked at him curiously, "We're gonna drive around and look at Christmas lights."
And that got a smile on her face.
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This could be fun!
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The most insane take on anything I’ve ever heard is that The Magnus Archives is a fan fiction Alice wrote about Chester and norris.
#tma#tmp#tmp alice#the magnus archives#the magnus protocol#the magnus pod#tma fic#it’s a coping mechanism ig
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Hello Ethubs nation :]
no text version
#gremnda art#this is the silliest thing i've drawn in a while and i am so happy w it#i just read a heavy angst fic with etho and bdubs#this is my way of coping guys let me have this#ethubs#hermitshipping#trafficshipping#ethoslab#bdoubleo100#oo look at me go making ship art#guys im from dsmp fandom i feel like im committing an actual crime by drawing ship art#please be nice i will cry
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Looking through your Ao3 bookmarks and seeing that little “This has been deleted, sorry!” is like finding a gravestone, but the writing’s too worn down to read what it was standing for anymore.
What were you, Bookmark #336... What stories did you tell? Which words were it that once left a mark on my soul?
*touches my laptop screen like it’s text from an ancient ruin*
Cowabummer.
#/wails dramatically#I joke to cope#BUT MAN#I hate when this happens#:c#I respect an author's choice to delete#but it's always a bummer coming across evidence of a deleted fic#and not knowing what it was#I gotta start making use of the notes section on ao3 more#fanfiction#pi says things
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#homestuck#homestuck fanart#karkat vantas#kankri vantas#love it how their coping mechanism for being opressed was just “yeah actually the regime is right we SHOULD be culled”#someone make a earth c fic where they hash out how fucked up their lives were and bond over it#we NEED more sibling vibes vantases
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who cares?
#isat#in stars and time#siffrin#isat siffrin#isat fanart#paper craft#spoilers#JUST IN CASE TEE HEE ?#you can tell i am fixating on isat. u can smell it. anyways i have like 4 other wips-#I'M DRAWING TO COPE W THE FACT I'M TOO NERVOUS TO FINISH MY FICS HEHE.
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I think dating Jason would mean never peeling your own oranges. It’s not that you can’t or won’t, but he likes doing it for you. Simple as that. You could easily snatch your oranges out of his hands, with their long fingers and scarred knuckles, but you choose to let him do this for you. You protest at first — you’re a big girl capable of doing this for yourself after all — but he brushes it off, tells you that he likes taking care of you with an earnestness about him that you can’t deny. Doesn’t that just have your insides turn into something warm and soft? So you accept his care with the graciousness it deserves. Lean into his side as he makes the first cut into the skin, releasing a mist of juice and citrus oil into the air. Sweetly thank him for every segment he passes into your fingers. He always keeps a few wedges himself as payment, but it’s no steep bargain. If you’re alone, sometimes he’ll feed each piece to you. Press the wedge against your parted lips and wait for your teeth to catch hold. And if sometimes you’ll lick his fingers clean of the dripping juice, well that’s a secret between you and his darkening eyes.
#can you tell I reread ‘the orange’ by wendy cope?#sunnie writes 🌻#jason todd my beloved#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#snack fic
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finally drawing our captain 🫡
#tbh I started this to help me cope with some pricexreader fics I’m reading#early and ceilidho I’m looking at y’all#the cliffhangers are devasting keep up the good work#my art#cod mw2#captain john price#call of duty#illustration#artists on tumblr#art#task force 141#cod modern warfare#cod mwii#john price
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not to start whacking the hornet’s nest but i think the most tragic part of ahsoka and anakin’s story together is that from the very first moment, it’s all based on a lie.
ahsoka meets anakin after aotc - he’s already committed an unjustifiable atrocity. he’s already slaughtered the tusken people, and as far as we know, ahsoka never finds out about that. and you know, that would completely and wildly screw up ahsoka’s perceptions of anakin
and i would go so far as to say it would screw with her image of anakin more than the vader reveal. because the vader reveal is like. oh shit your older brother/ best friend has turned into a monster and has committed genocide and is currently trying to kill you
but the tusken massacre reveal is like. oh shit your older brother who tucks you in bed when you’re sick and who makes you laugh so hard your ribs hurt has, for the entire time he’s loved you and you loved in return, been a murderer, and has actively been hiding a horrible, unjustifiable secret
the vader reveal is tragic because the anakin that ahsoka knows and remembers is, to her knowledge, gone forever. the tusken massacre reveal is tragic because the anakin that ahsoka knows and loves is based on a lie
#anakin skywalker#ahsoka tano#star wars the clone wars#the clone wars#not that the anakin ahsoka adores isn’t there. he is. but he’s also the same man as the desert killer. the same man as the jedi killer#one and the same. he loves her and he’s killed and he’ll love her until he kills her#I JUST THINK it would mess her up more than the vader reveal. i don’t know how she’d cope#how do you cope with the knowledge that (to you) all your good bits are from a killer. how do you reconcile your goodness with his#ahsoka is the best parts of anakin. its what sustains her during the fulcrum years. he lives on in her#how do you cope with that?#yooo if anyone is curious i HAVE posted the fic about this (:
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ tying a tie I nanami kento
pairings: nanami x reader
tags: slice of life series (potentially?), fluff
wc: 354
8:04 AM
"darling, i know how to tie a tie."
"just—give me a second alright," you shush, hand on your hip and the other on the tie as you focus on the video tutorial playing. your brow furrowed in concentration as you repeat the steps to yourself.
"i loop this over this," you whisper, an amused look on nanami's face as you try to replicate the practiced steps he does every morning before work. "then i tighten—i tighten this?"
"mhm, not quite," he responds jokingly, which earns a glare from you.
nanami has always been capable of tying a tie. he's done it every day for more than a decade—to work, to dates, to ensuring that gojo dresses presentably when needed. but during your movie binge the other night, you had come to the (mundane) conclusion that you have never had a moment of tying a tie for him before he's off to work.
"it's a cliché in every movie we've seen," you whined then as you were both getting ready for bed. nanami was already settled on his side while you lifted the shared blanket to tuck yourself in. "how are we supposed to tell our kids we fell in love!"
"are we not?"
"clearly, not! if i've never even tied a tie—" you grumble to yourself as turn the lampshade off with a pout.
which leads you to now and your very poor attempt at getting nanami dressed for a long day at work.
"there!" you say, pleased with yourself. nanami, in all his efforts, has to bite back a smile when he sees how crooked and loose the fabric is. he's been standing in the living room with his briefcase and cup of coffee in hand for the past 20 minutes while humoring you.
"are we in love now?" nanami pokes, the amusement dripping over.
"yes, very in love," you nod, clearly satisfied as you give him his usual goodbye kiss and a pat on the chest. his heart stutters.
nanami kento, a man of routine and perfection, has his coworkers wondering why he started the day with a lovestruck smile and hastily tied tie.
author's note: head in hands...nanami my beloved...honestly thinking of making a slice of life series for him because in some universe, this man deserves a break T__T
ⓒ prettyboytsum 2024. all works are posted under this account on tumblr.com and are protected by copyright laws. do not plagiarise these works on any other platform or account.
#₊˚⊹♡₊ luna writes#just want to inform everyone#nanami is fine and well we just had a lovely breakfast together#can you tell i'm coping terribly#nanami kento#jjk kento#jjk x reader#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#kento nanami x reader#kento x reader#jjk hcs#jjk#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk drabbles
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Hey idk if you're going to do anything more with your cope fics but in the Soap one. Did Nikto do something?
So funny enough I was actually writing something that I was debating on posting unless someone asked so uh I guess I'll just paste it here.
I will say this about Nikto he's very villain coded and of course in the lore he is very much a scary war criminal. I 100% blame @halcyone-of-the-sea for actually getting me to look at Nikto Highly recommend their fic Ravishing Allure
This takes place before the soap fic.
Um non consensual kissing
I knew I was regressing slightly... without my meds and being barely clinging together I was regressing a couple of years emotionally. Perhaps it was a stupid idea to be running in the halls of the base holding the switch in my hands eager to show Soap the cutest little pokemon cafe worker. Perhaps I should be more careful with Kortac around... perhaps I should be more careful with who was lurking around.
I should have been looking where I was going when I turned the corner and run right into a broad chest. That hardly limited it down to who it could be but the apology died in my throat as the scariest blue eyes were staring me down. Nikto. He scares me... I didn't remember his wiki page really just the feeling that he was a very very bad man. But I manage to slam right into him.
It's his eyes... I usually hate prolonged eye contact except for one man really... my husband and its terrifying how such a rich blue shade is staring right down at me in the same manner that he does when I've upset him. I twitch slightly as my desire to soothe and make my husband not mad bubbles back up... I had done a lot of healing to stop being an utter pushover and people pleaser to him and our friends but it seemed it was rearing its ugly head back here. I instead just make myself look smaller and far more submissive as I hold the Switch between us like it will keep him from me.
"S-sorry Nikto. I... I wasn't paying attention." I say before I try to quickly move past him and then I felt it. That soothingly familiar touch... the comforting warmth of a hand around my neck, resting there as if it belonged not squeezing because it didn't need to and I trusted the palm that usually rested there... the comfortingly large hand that was there during sex or just his way of flirting with me.
I think I was far to eager in the way I looked back up at the arm holding my neck. Maybe it was the look in my eyes... a silent hope that it was my husband there and not Nikto that this was all over. Maybe it was the way I cocked my head to the side when he did his... maybe I should have reacted better than my hardcoded submissive self did... I just didn't react.
I only whimpered as my back was pressed against the wall as he boxed me in. I was scared of what would happen if I didn't obey him demanding me to close my eyes. I pressed back against the wall as I've kissed enough times with my eyes closed... felt my husband kiss me on the lips as I danced between consciousness and unconsciousness... I was well aware of how close he was leaning to my face.
I groaned softly as he wasn't sweet or kind or this was the precursor to something else. It was rough and demanding... demanding what? I couldn't say but I felt so complacent and guilty like I was cheating on my husband when I started to kiss back.
-----
Her tongue moved against his as his hands moved down her waist in mock tender touches. Breathlessly she kept kissing back. The gentle groan as he bit her bottom lip and sucked on it for but a moment. His hips rolling against hers.
Nikto was intrigued by the "Girl out of time" just as much as König was. They were the one to get König the data he wanted allowing the large man to get closer to the target... perhaps there was intrigue from them as well. Nikto finally pulled away putting his mask back on as a thumb of his brushed upon her slightly swollen bottom lip, they held back a shiver as she did a simple 'om' sound before slipping the tip of his thumb into her mouth and being far too cute for her own good.
She still was submissive when he let her open her eyes and sent her on her way with a smack to her ass as she hurried off.
#cod x oc#cod#cod mw2#cod nikto#mwii nikto#OC#cope fic#coping#idk if this counts as a cope fic#but it's in the same universe I guess#OC: Goblin#ask reply#reply
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Joel turns around. Martyn is standing there. His eyes are a burning red that gives Joel the heebie-jeebies. If anyone would know to be scared, it's Joel! He would! He'd recognize a mad dog if he saw one anywhere!
Anyway, all of that is to say that his high-pitched scream had been totally justified. "Oh my word Martyn what are you doing here?" he says, clutching his hand over his heart, several feet further back than he'd been thirty seconds ago.
Martyn snorts. "Is the sign not for me? Figured there was no one else it could be for."
"The what?"
"The sign."
Joel turns around. Outside his base, the other Mounders have hung a helpful banner: "SORRY EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD <3".
He'd told them it was kind of rude, hanging that up. Sort of made light of the whole thing, really. His wife and Mumbo and Jimmy had died, guys, don't be idiots about it. Bdubs had loudly told him that he was TRYING to be helpful, Joel, geez, why don't you appreciate his efforts? Pearl had shrugged and said they don't exactly make cards for this kind of thing. Joel's pretty sure they do, actually but...
Sorry everyone you love is dead. Hah.
"My wife is dead, Martyn," Joel says.
"Who, Lizzie or Jimmy?" Martyn says, weirdly dark. "Anyway, my husband's dead, so--"
"Your what?"
"Mumbo and I got married one time. Everyone forgets that for some reason."
Joel has to think about it a while. "Huh."
"Yeah. Anyway, you've still got the other Mounders, huh? Don't know what you're crying about. Thought the sign had to be for me. Thought I'd show up. Get cake. Kill some people. You know how it is."
"If there's a TNT minecart in my base, the first thing I do after I turn red is kill you," Joel says.
"That's not really how it works this time," Martyn says.
"Yeah, well, screw you," Joel says. "Also, they didn't make me any cake. I should ask them for that next. Hah. A cake."
"You know, maybe don't ask for that? Parties tend to go wrong in this game."
"And who's fault is that, huh?"
"Hey, don't look at me! Or, do. Since I'm going to kill everyone, on account of everyone I love being dead and all. Really convenient excuse for murder, that. I should use it more often, if it didn't involve the crippling grief," Martyn says.
"Oh, please. At least you tend to have people to love in the first place," Joel snaps.
"Oh, right, that is your curse, isn't it?" Martyn says. "Sorta broke it last time, but you do tend to get isolated and a bit crazy. Hey, I wonder if we're the ones who traded, actually what with the whole wolf thing."
Joel blinks. "What?"
"Oh, we're all cursed," Martyn says. "After all, They like it better that way. Hey, do you think Jimmy's curse transferred to Lizzie, got cancelled out by the fact Lizzie tends to die stupidly, or got broken? Personally, I'm thinking random fluke, when it comes to canary nonsense."
Joel stares at Martyn. His throat is dry. "What?"
Martyn stares back. "Hey, I'm the mad dog this time," Martyn says. "You probably shouldn't be the one growling."
"Well then, you should stop saying stupid shit," Joel says.
"Stupid? Please. It's obvious everyone is cursed. Nothing to be done about it but to play into the--"
"NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED," Joel shouts, his vision suddenly red and blurry in a way it shouldn't be when he's still on yellow. "NO ONE IS BLUMIN' CURSED. THERE'S NO SUCH THING! YOU'RE JUST, JUST MAKIN' UP REASONS IT ISN'T ALL A TRAGEDY THAT EVERYONE I LOVE IS FUCKING DEAD, MAKING UP REASONS THAT IT--NO ONE IS CURSED! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST HAPPENS! IT JUST FUCKING HAPPENS! AND WOULDN'T IT BE BLUMIN' NICE IF THERE WERE A HIGHER POWER BUT THERE ISN'T SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT CURSES!"
He's panting. Martyn is staring at him. He stares back, a snarl on his teeth, the echoes of wolves and of grief, grief, grief, grief playing at the back of his throat.
"Joel?" Martyn says, hesitant.
"My wife is fucking dead. My best friend is fucking dead. One of my new possible best friends is fucking dead. Sorry about your husband, I guess? Get out."
"Bold thing to say to the guy who can kill--"
"I SAID GET OUT!"
Martyn stares at Joel a moment longer, and Joel finds he's not scared of the madness in his eyes at all.
Martyn leaves.
Joel realizes he's crying. The tears turn into giant, ugly sobs. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead. Sorry everyone you love is dead.
"I blumin' hate caring about people," he says to no one at all through choked breaths, and he kicks a rock at the banner for good measure. It pokes a little hole through it and bounces off the dick-shaped tower behind it.
"Someone really should have made both of us a blumin' cake, they should," he says next, and he sits down until Pearl runs over, having heard the shouting. His face is red and his vision is still swimming. She stares at him, gathers him in her arms, and cries with him, and for the life of him, he doesn't know if that's any better.
#secret life smp#secret life spoilers#a bee fic#joel smallishbeans#martyn inthelittlewood#ONE MORE FOR THE ROAD THIS SESSION HAS INSPIRED ME TO WRITE APPARENTLY.#anyway the life series is a tragecomedy and everyone copes with that differently i think#i am trying to really CAPTURE the simultaneous tragic and comedic vibes here#anyway. opposing views on curses and causality in the face of grief huh?
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creature comfort
“We won’t win today,” Cleo says, and Etho knows she’s right. Knows their time has been running out since the first secret was whispered to them in voices all too familiar, has known that this day was coming, has known that all this time, it’s not been a question of if–it’s been a question of when.
They’re going to die today. Distantly, Etho wonders if the domesticity they’ve worked for will die with them, or if it will follow them back home.
Will his home ever be a physical place again? Home is where the hearth is, where the warmth is, where the world is shut out and it’s just the three of them.
Home is where Cleo is.
“That’s alright,” Etho smiles instead of voicing all of that, wishing, of all things, that he didn’t still have that awful cough that Cleo had insisted he rest over for a few days. “We’ll be alright.”
They’ll be dead–and what are the dead, if not alright? The dead don’t have coughs, or pain, or fear. They’re just dead. Etho thinks he might not mind it so much, this time. He’s finally learned to spend his time wisely, and he’s built a home no flaming arrow could ever take down.
Just by the cow pen, there’s a stupid little porch Etho had built a while back. They’re nowhere near it now, but every night he and Cleo had watched the sunset, drank a final cup of tea, and turned in to sleep over gossip and giggles only they could draw from each other this time ‘round. Before, Bdubs had made him laugh like that–now, Etho wonders how long before there’s a sword at his throat.
Even so, while Cleo laughs and watches him set Scar’s porch on fire, Etho hopes he might have the privilege of watching the sunset from the porch one last time. He’d survive the day, if only for another sunset with Cleo.
BANG.
Tango’s gone–Etho knows it in his heart. Surely he should feel an ache for him, should ask how he went. Instead, it’s easy to accept it.
The wardens are fun. That’s all they are, now. Before, they had been terrors, then the answer to a desperate prayer he and Grian had made. The carnage of those terrifying beasts feel muted compared to before, but with the wind flying through his hair, the elated cries of Cleo in front of him, Etho can’t care. Not this time. They lead two clear to the middle of the server before they’ve decided to finish having their fun, and Cleo’s just stepping up some rocks when she says it.
“You’re my favorite, you know that? You’ve always been my favorite.”
He does know, he does know now. He’d guessed it that first sunset, when Cleo sat down with a giddy smile to recount their day. He’d thought it, when she’d wrapped a blanket around his shoulders after his failures and rested her head on his shoulder without a word. He’d lived it, when she had shouted that she would kill him if he tried to kill her–but was reassured otherwise that night on the porch again, with the curse ebbing from his bones.
Today, he knows it in the blatant rebellion against what’s supposed to be the end, the dread, the fear.
“You’re mine too.” Etho grins back, and knows that they’ll see his smile even through the mask–knows they’ve come to recognize it in his tone and way his eyebrows scrunch together. .
They wind up in the sky base with Grian–Grian, who hasn’t quite reached the same conclusion they have. Etho knows by the shadows under his eyes he won’t give up, that he’ll fight clear to the end. Once upon a season, Etho had been the same.
Not this time. Never this time.
Around ten minutes to sunset, Etho and Cleo set down their dripstone and bows, and sit on the edge of the cobblestone wall.
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back to our base for it this time,” Etho jokes, nudging his shoulder into Cleo’s. Cleo laughs, a carefree thing, and wrinkles her nose.
“I don’t think we’re gonna make it back for it any time, if we’re being honest.” She leans back, one hand half behind her to support her weight.
“I know,” Etho says. He brings his leg up to his chest, wrapping his arms around it. Behind them, cobblestone is placed–Grian, ever the survivor. “It was nice, though.”
“It was nice!” Cleo beams. “Are you alright with this?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Etho hums. “‘s not so bad. Dying with a friend.”
“It won’t be,” Cleo agrees.
Because that’s just it, isn’t it? Etho’s never died like this–he’s died at the flames of an arrow shot while protecting his king, he’s died in fights after his allies were killed. Hell, he’s died hand in hand with a soulmate hellbent on killing him now–but he’d been in a frenzy then, a rage-induced thing meant to burn up the place that had never been a true home to them.
He thinks he won’t mind dying with someone.
The sun sets in brilliant hues of orange and pink, and they sit together, this final tradition not lost in the face of inevitability. Just as the first star twinkles, Grian comes over, hoisting them back to their feet.
“They’re coming,” he says.
It’s time.
They shoot a few arrows, break some dripstone, all to no avail–but that’s alright, he’s got Cleo, and they’ve got him.
But oh, the games are never kind, are they? Etho slips, his foot landing weird somehow–and he’s whistling through the air towards the ground at a speed too fast. It knocks the breath from his lungs when he lands–does he hit the clutch? Stars, he doesn’t actually know, because there’s arrows shot at him, shouts of glee from the hunters, and suddenly Etho’s not Etho, he’s just prey–and prey only know to do one thing.
Run.
Etho flies forward, dragging his sword out. There’s not many safe spaces left on the server–stars, Grian had even mentioned their base was but a crater in the hill.
But the porch… the porch was intact. Supposedly.
He enderpearls, and enderpearls again, and it’s still not enough. The screams behind him are closer, and closer, and then further–and oh, Etho knows it’s time. He’s dead, he’s gone, he’ll be but a wisp of the wind in a few minutes whether he likes it or not.
And he won’t die by Cleo.
Cleo, Cleo, Cleo. Oh, he’d not meant it to be like this. He’d meant to die with a smile, right by her side–just as they were meant to die by his. This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t the plan. A sob claws its way up his throat, the beginnings of the blind panic he’d never meant to feel tonight. He’s going to die, alone, without the comfort of his Cleo.
Home. He wants to go home.
Home is in the air, a hundred blocks above him. He’ll never make it–but he can make it back to the porch, the one place of peace. Now, he can feel the twinge of something broken in his ankles, probably from the fall–and the cuts, the bruises, the blood scent thick in his nose. He’s so tired.
He wants to die at home, he wants to die at home.
“Oh, he sounds like a wounded animal… let’s put him out of his misery.” A voice said. Cold fear grips Etho’s heart, and he stumbles forward–the porch is in sight!
Let him die at home. Let him die at home.
A shadow fills his vision, and Etho’s not even had time to lift his shield before blinding pain fills his stomach, and it’s over.
He’s not allowed that creature comfort of dying at home.
#secret life#secret life smp#ethoslab#zombiecleo#cletho#secret life spoilers#my fics#tw death#I don't have an explanation at all for this#Is this cohesive?? i wrote it in a daze. in under thirty minutes#if it's not great OH WELL#this is how i am coping#god i'm never gonna feel okay again about them#never ever#i'm fucking insane#bursts into tears
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Nocturne and Shadowheart deserve to settle down together someplace quiet
#bg3 fanart#bg3 nocturne#shadowheart#Shadowheart x Nocturne#coping with struggling w fic by posting all my art
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If there was no one else who would make the vessel atone for its sins, then it would do so itself
#hollow knight#hollow knight fanart#hollow knight art#the hollow knight#more doodles for that one au I've had rotating in my brain the past few weeks#The Echo AU#aka#unhealthy coping mechanisms: the fic
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