#tw: loneliness
Text
Woodsmoke
masterlist
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Gender Neutral Reader. No physical descriptions of reader beyond having hair. Reader has a cat. Established but new-ish, implied long-distance-ish relationship.
Summary: Life has been running you ragged lately, but someone is waiting for you when you get home. For a moment, you don't have to be strong.
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of difficult family life, attending therapy, absent parents, wounded inner child, loneliness as a general theme. If I've missed anything, please do tell me.
Word Count: ~1.6K
Rating: General? Two curse words and some kissin'. The remainder of my work is 18+ / minors DNI.
A/N: I do not know about y'all but I have been going through it lately. And Frankie Morales is my comfort character. This is not along the lines of my usual writing, and for that reason, I haven't tagged anyone. But I'm sharing it on the off chance that you, like me, just need a hug. I know this time of year isn't the easiest for a lot of us, and I hope maybe this gives you a little comfort. Comfort!Frankie, if you will. Please heed the warnings and read with care.
You are worthy of love.
You don’t have time to cry.
Not right now, on this highway, snowflakes flying towards you like crystalline stars at a speed twenty miles per hour slower than the speed you’d be moving at if they weren’t.
You can’t see the lines on the road even without tears in your eyes.
One thing at a time.
Like everything lately.
Just follow the tracks of the car in front of you until it gets you home.
Home to your house that’s empty save for a grumpy tabby cat.
Most days you swear your existence hinges on his.
He’s been your thing to look forward to for the last fifteen years.
Well, and Frankie is visiting this week.
Provided that this storm doesn’t shut the airport down.
Fuck.
It’s not that you hadn’t been doing well without him.
It’s that you hadn’t been doing well.
Too long without a mental break. Exhaustion that seeps with the cold into your bones.
Too many things on a to-do list that you can’t bring yourself to do on the weekends because it’s too long and your own time is so short.
Maybe it’s some malefic arrangement of stars and planets, perhaps.
You haven’t even started buying holiday gifts.
And it sends you face-first into the dread of making a trip back home.
The place that was supposed to be your home.
And dread is the correct word, even if your therapist says you're making real progress.
See, the thing is, your therapist doesn’t have to sit in the contents of the box of shit you dug out from the corner of your brain and emptied all over the floor of your mind.
She only helps you sort through it every other Tuesday.
It was in the box for a reason.
It was easier to carry that way.
_____
When finally you pull into your driveway and step out into fresh snow, it’s the smell that hits you first.
Woodsmoke.
Someone has started up the wood stove so that you don’t go cold, but you hadn’t been expecting company. You figure it’s your best friend who has a key and a standing invitation, and you’re not necessarily opposed to them being here.
Sharing a bottle of wine would probably do you some good.
You stomp snow from your shoes and step inside to offer your layers to the hooks on the wall of the mudroom before you catch sight of the boots in the tray as you toe yours off.
“Frankie?!”
“One sec, babe!”
Frankie.
You wrench open the door that leads through to the kitchen and catch sight of him in front of the sink where he’s draining steaming water from a pot of pasta.
He looks up at you across the kitchen and winks.
“Frankie,” you breathe and he quickly pops the pot back onto a dead burner, slinging oven mitts off a fraction of a second before you collide with his chest.
“Baby,” he whispers, locking you in with an arm around the small of your back and the other at the nape of your neck.
He smells of woodsmoke and cedar and Frankie.
Smells like home.
“You weren’t supposed to be here for another two days,” you pull back and look up into brown eyes framed by mirth-filled creases.
“I was keeping an eye on the weather,” he urges you against him again to nuzzle into your hair, “didn’t want to wait. There’s another front coming behind this one. Took an Uber from the airport. Got in about an hour ago.”
Pilots and their forecasts.
“I’m glad you didn’t wait.”
“So am I,” he tilts your chin up and presses his lips to yours. Soft and sweet. Perfect.
“I made pasta, thought you’d be hungry when you got in.” He grins against your mouth before turning back to the stove to stir tomato sauce. “There wasn’t much in the fridge, but there’s plenty for tonight.” Frankie turns off the burner.
And it’s so new, having a man in your kitchen.
Making you dinner.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I haven’t had the chance to go to the store,” you rake a hand through your hair as he winds a corkscrew into a bottle of wine.
So new, having arms to fall into.
“Don't apologize, babe. We’ll go tomorrow,” he sneaks another kiss as he fills your glass, one hand absently rubbing your back as he does. “Oh, I also fed the cat,” he points to stacked tins of cat food near the fridge, “from that, hope that was okay,” he fills his own glass. “He was hungry and he was insisting on spaghetti but I figured that’s not…”
“Thank you.”
It’s not more than a trembling whisper.
Because you’re fighting back tears.
This man warmed your house and poured you wine and fed your cat and made you a meal.
Because he cares.
Someone cares.
For you.
“Oh, hey no no no, cariño, what’s wrong?” He replaces his glass on the counter and cups your face in one massive palm.
Soothing with a gentle thumb over your cheekbone.
“This is so nice,” you breathe and the tears finally blur his face. “I just—no one has ever done this for me before.”
It leaves your mouth slowly, like you're not even sure if you can say it.
If you're allowed.
Your view is quickly replaced by the grey and red of his sweater.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do, baby.”
And it makes your chest heave with the sobs you can’t hold in any longer as you wrap your arms around his waist, sinking into the way he presses you tighter against his heart.
The wool of his jumper eager to collect all of the tears you haven’t had time to cry.
Because time stands still here, wrapped tight in his embrace.
And Francisco isn’t afraid of your mess.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.”
He doesn’t ask.
Instead, he tiptoes around the debris of that box to where you weep in the center of the chaos.
To where the child sits with hot tears streaming down their face.
And he looks straight into the heart of you with eyes as soft as the toy you clutch to your chest for comfort.
And offers himself instead.
He offers the breadth of his chest and the strong panes of his back. The vice grip of his arms and the gentle soothing of a palm.
He offers his whole self.
In the stead of the affection you were never given and so learned too well to do without.
In the stead of the wire-framed mother.
In the stead of the shell that should have been a father.
In the stead of all of the unkind words you clung to in the belief that they must be true.
For why else would they not love a child in the way that a child needs love?
For why else were you left lonely for so long?
And the back of your throat goes sore with the burn of his kindness.
Kindness that you still don’t believe you deserve.
“Put it down, baby. Let it go.”
Where Life asked you to soothe yourself.
“I’m here.”
Life offers him to you now.
For Life, it seems, has taken pity on you.
Or perhaps It grew weary of how your grief made It ache.
“I’m here now.”
And so It proffered this apology.
One that you accept in the form of skin and muscle. Bones and blood.
A soft-hearted one with big kind eyes.
And Frankie holds you until the sobbing eases.
And thumbs the tears from your lashes.
Plush lips soften into a crooked smile.
"Are you hungry, cariño?" Whispered softly.
"Yeah," you murmur because you suppose you are.
"Can we sit by the wood stove?" He turns you towards the living room and lays a kiss at the crown of your head.
"Yeah, yeah of course."
"Good, because it's fucking freezing." And that finally pulls a laugh from your throat. "Go on," he smacks you lightly on the bum, "I'll bring you a plate."
You grab both glasses of wine and toss a few throw pillows on the floor before Frankie settles next to you with two shallow bowls heaped with pasta.
_____
When you've finished dinner, plates stacked on the coffee table, cat napping on a throw pillow near the pair of you, Frankie sits back against the sofa and pulls you to sit at his side.
"I'm sorry that I..."
"No," Frankie cuts you off and wraps an arm around your shoulders. "Don't ever apologize to me for feeling, baby."
And you stare down into the dregs of your wine.
"Promise," he prompts with a nudge of his arm.
You look up at him through tired, but grateful eyes. "I promise, Frankie."
"Good," and he kisses you slowly, all warm lips and soft moans.
He regales you with stories from his latest trip until you settle in against him, head tucked under his chin. Lulled by the rise and fall of his breath.
You let him hold you here, with one arm wrapped around your shoulders.
Safe by the gentle heat of a dying fire.
You'll be yourself again tomorrow.
But tonight you allow yourself this.
Frankie kisses into your hairline as you drift between this word and sleep. Your weight against him is soothing as he finishes the last of the wine, eyes trained on the windows beyond, tracking the path of snowflakes on their way to meet the earth again.
"Te comprendo, cariño," he murmurs, resting his cheek against your crown.
"Y creo que te amo."
#frankie morales#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x gn!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal#tw: loneliness#ohforficsake#I definitely cried while writing this#so I'm sorry if there are mistakes#this was wholly unplanned
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Otome au-Character introduction: Floyd Leech
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, violence, loneliness, manipulation
Position
Commoner/Helping hand of Azul
Backstory
Because Floyd came from a family that was dangerous in the eyes of the normal person most people feared him. However, Floyd had always been a person which craved change and entertainment. Because of that he tried to find something that would be some sort of entertainment which led to him being very violent towards others who weren't his family. One thing was stopping him eventually. His twin brother was always someone he thought of as an important part of his life and the last thing he wanted was him to feel bad about it. When his violent behavior started to scare people away he had to come up with a way how to make his brother somehow happy again. And that was when Azul entered their lives.
But then their foolish king took that away as well. Just what was he supposed to do? But then he met someone. Y̷̖̍o̵̖͒ṵ̸̕ ̵̒ͅn̵̊͜e̶̲̔ȇ̴̱d̶̤̀n̷̤̏’̶̟̀t̶̡̐ ̸͍̿k̸̯̀n̷̞͐o̴̤̕w̷̼̚ ̸̼͘a̸̦̓b̴̗͆o̵̮̍u̴̲͋ť̶͜ ̶͈̈ȇ̶̙v̶͉̌é̷̞r̷̥̓y̴͇̔t̵̥̽ḫ̸͑ì̶̹n̵̹̓g̵̮͝.̶̺̍ ̷̛̯J̸͍͑ų̷̊s̸̭̚t̵̤̅ ̶͈̑l̷͙͘e̴̢͌ả̴̹ň̸̤ ̶̯̅b̷̻̿a̴͈̕c̵̖̅k̷͈̓ ̷͇͘ȁ̷̦ṅ̸̫d̷̤͌ ̴̺͘e̴̩̋n̵͚̔j̵̲̓o̷̳͘y̸̟͐ ̵̠̚ț̸̽h̵̼͘e̸͉͗ ̵̧̈́š̴͍h̷̳͛o̴̙̕w̴̅ͅ.̵͈̽Finally he knew where the octopus was and led his brother to him. After working together with the exiled individual for months he had to admit that only his brother was more important for him than his new friend.
How did he become Self-aware?
Having to fulfill his contract with ě̴̱r̵̺̐̔r̵̟͂̚o̶̫̲̔r̸̫̈́͘ it was impossible not to know what was happening. Having now knowledge about was fated to happen he was angry and sad of and about your situation. Angry because you didn’t see them as living beings and just entertainment. He was supposed to see you this way, not the other way around! Sad because, in some way, you were also trapped in the game, only doing what you were allowed to do. The eel had watched your character. You wanted to help that child but the game just didn't allow it. Maybe you understood his pain. Yes, you did. You were the only one who understood him! You were meant to be with him! Just him! JUST HIM!
To be born to foster love and to steal it away, what a wonderful feeling!
More to be added....
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere twst x reader#twisted wonderland otome au#tw: yandere#tw: obsession#tw: possessiveness#tw: manipulation#tw: violence#tw: loneliness
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Catching up (Platonic Mobius M Mobius x Reader)
Author's Note: here is just a 1k word scene of camaraderie. A bit of Lokius feels.
Misery might love company but good friends lift you up.
Post Season 2
Unbeta'd and barely edited.
Gender neutral for the most part.
Content warnings: loneliness, sadness.
You wave to Mobius as you walk through the restaurant doors. He stands and helps you out of your jacket. You hug. It almost feels normal. But for you, it isn't.
To anyone in the restaurant you look like two friends catching up, or maybe a couple on a date. They couldn't possibly know the reality of your situation.
Mobius gives you a once over as you take the seat he offers you.
“You look stunning,” he says as he sits at the table.
“Oh hush, you’d say that about anything after knowing me only in those beige and brown boring outfits day in and day out for all of time.” You grin. “But you don't look so bad yourself, M. “Especially the tie.”
Mobius grins as he smoothes the deep green tie he had paired with a black suit.
“You would, considering you picked it out.”
“You needed more color in your wardrobe,” you grinned. “And I know you like the color.” You wink. He shakes his head but you don't miss the sad look in his eyes. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand. “I miss ‘em too, M.”
He nods but the waiter arrives and you place your orders.
You talk about the weather and surface topics as the waiter brings your drinks. You tell him how Casey, OB and Timely have been testing a new feature of an alternative power source since the TVA doesn't actually pull energy from the loom like you used too. Sure, OB had stabilized a source not long after the loom failed. But OB was no longer satisfied with a singular source. He wanted back up for back ups.
“That's OB,” Mobius says fondly. “I'm just glad he has help now. It's not all on him.” Mobius gets that look that you know means he’s starting to get lost in his memories.
“So,” you ask. “How’re the boys?” and you have his full attention again.
“They’re good,” he smiles as he thinks about his sons. “A handful, but good.”
“Mischievous, are they?”
“Oh without a doubt,” Mobius chuckles.
You laugh too because of course the people he loves most are chaotic by nature.
“Well, if anyone knows how to handle chaotic energy, it's you, Mobius.” You smile up at the waiter as he brings your entrees.
“How about you? What have you been up to? Last I heard B-15 had you keeping an eye on some of the former TVA workers.”
You nod. “The ones we weren't sure would adjust well, but honestly, most everyone is thriving.”
“Except?”
“Just a couple people,” you try to shrug off details. But he waits you out. “Brad Wolfe is thriving but he's still an erratic idiot, so we keep an eye on him.”
“Probably a good call,” he says between bites of his side salad. “Anyone else setting off that analyst brain of yours?”
You had just taken another bite of your pasta when he asked and you tried not to sigh.
“Like I said, most everyone is doing well. You hear from Sylvie more than I do, and the TVA is still in transition, but we’re doing alright.”
“But?” He asks, because he's Mobius and he knows to read between the lines.
You sigh and set your fork down. Stalling as you take a sip of your drink but he just watches you with a narrowed gaze.
“Mobius,” you start, tone now more serious.
It's his turn to sign. “It's me isn't it, I'm the outlier.”
“You lost more than anyone, Mobius, and that's understandable.”
“You lost your friend too,” he says. You and Loki had been thick as thieves. You worked with the god almost as well as Mobius did. “And D-90.” You and the hunter had been close. How close Mobius had never managed to get out of you, but he knew it broke your heart when you found out Brad pruned him. He was pretty sure that was why you monitored the actor as close as you do. If Brad failed to make use of the life he killed your closest companion for, you'd prune Brad Wolfe yourself.
“The job always had risks,” you say sadly. “It was always a possibility. But before it had a purpose.”
“For all time,” Mobius says.
“Always,” you finish for him.
“Doesn't make it easier,” he says knowingly.
“Still keep expecting him to drop by my desk like nothing has changed.”
“Now you know why I didn't stay,” he points out.
“I knew that already, M.” You start eating again.
“But you need that purpose, don't you?” He asks.
“I didn't have a timeline with people that needed me,” you tell him. “I just monitor you guys now. No variants. It's rare we actually have to intervene these days. Just watching out for Timely’s variants. And thankfully they haven't seemed to notice us yet. But I think that's more…their doing than anyone else's.” You liked to think Loki had a hand in it all.
It's quiet as you both finish your meals.
“You can say their name,” Mobius finally says as dessert arrives. Mobius had predictably gotten key lime pie. “It's alright. I know you're avoiding it for my sake.”
“Last thing I want to do is make it harder on you, M. But to me, it’s…important. I know Loki’s got a bigger role than just protecting the timelines and free will. I just do.”
“How can you be so sure?” He asks.
You study your former colleague and there it was. The doubt and loneliness is written on his face. Unmasked and very real. You reach for his hand again. “Because of the little things. Brighter flowers, my favorite coffee is never out of stock. A pack of cookies I could have sworn weren't there before.” You admit. “Either that or time has finally swiss cheesed my brain and my memory is failing.”
“Maybe it's just wishful thinking,” he says.
“Maybe, but at least this time I get to choose to believe. And I do. Believe in Loki. Always have thanks to you. So, I know you do too.”
________________________
This one if for you guys. @marvelforever352, @welcome--back, @bugbugboy
#loki series fic#mobius m mobius x reader#platonic#platonic mobius x reader#tw: loneliness#tw: sadness#mobius m mobius
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loneliness kills. why won’t it claim me already???
#personal#journal#journalling#mental health#tw: depression#tw: trauma#tw: loneliness#vent account#vent post#venting#journal account#tw: anxiety#tw: disordered eating
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The internet and social media are currently being one my very few sources of comfort but they're also feeding my potential ocd? And this week, specially, I just haven't been able to control myself when it comes to it and haven't really been able to do anything. Not uni related and not even reading/watching/writing related, which is also why I wasn't able to post a fic this week :\
Anyways, my mom is telling me to get off social media and telling me to focus on my responsibilities... But idk if I want to, because of the comfort part — which really helps me with my other pathologies, feelings of loneliness and not fitting into, well, life, really —, or if I can do it, because it's become sort of an obsession at this point, really. So, I can't make any promises to her but am letting you guys know over here, just in case I disappear for a while.
#tw: ocd#tw: mental illness#tw: loneliness#tw: insecurities#gabriela rambling#gabby talks#life update#gabby gabs
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TW: childhood abuse, neglect, loneliness, depression, suicidality, internalized aroace-phobia
Being a survivor of childhood neglect and being a dating-repulsed AroAce adult is just growing into the devastating realization that all you want is to be someone's priority. But you're completely incapable of finding a partner because you lack the ability to feel the feelings 99% of people need to develop that kind of loving relationship.
I find myself thinking that if I had just been taken care of, if just a few of my needs had been met, if I'd been loved... maybe I'd be able to make peace with all of my friends getting married and starting families. Maybe I'd be less lonely.
I love romance. I love the idea of being in love. But no matter how hard I try, I can't develop an attraction. There are days when I don't think about it at all. It doesn't matter. But then I begin to feel unseen. I begin to feel like there's no point to my existence. It feels like all of my people are forgetting about me. I never know how to handle that pain. I just wait and wait and wait with my hand outstretched until one of my people finally reaches back. And I'm happy again. But I know I'm not their priority. I know their partners are more immediately important to them. And soon I find myself back in that isolated space.
I'm tired of always taking care of myself. I'm tired of self-soothing. I'm tired.
#about me#aroace#arospec#aromantic#asexual#acespec#queer#lgbtqia#vent post#tw: abuse#tw: neglect#tw: depression#tw: suicidality#tw: loneliness#tw: trauma#tw: child abuse#internalized queerphobia#internalized aphobia
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And like Amy Winehouse once said
Love is a losing game
One I wished I never played
Oh, what a mess we made
And now, the final frame
Love is a losing game
#tw: depression#tw: loneliness#tw: loss#amy winehouse#Amy Winehouse is my safe place when i feeling sad... dawn (down) and blue#love is a losing game#back to black
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This morning I am sad.
I’m very lonely and feeling very misunderstood by the world. Everyone seems to have people or even just one person who thinks about them or cares or is solely there for them.
And I don’t think I have that. I haven’t had that in a long time, maybe ever. And all I write about is having that bond and trust and understanding with one person who makes it their mission to see you the way no one else can or has ever bothered to. Maybe that’s toxic bc that’s never going to happen or fix anything. But I can’t help wishing that someone would want to make me feel special.
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People always talk about the way love comes into your life, the way it creeps in silent and slow. How it seeps into your bones, boils your blood.
But no one talks about how love leaves, the way it tiptoes on quiet cat feet out of our hearts. How, like fog, the warmth is blown away. The embers become ash... and all that will remain is a whisper of what was.
Coming & Going || Monica (Moka) Lynn
#words or whatever#spilled ink#creative writing#word art#up all night#spilled thoughts#prose#writing on tumblr#writers and poets#love poetry#anology#tw: loss#tw: loneliness#tw depressing thoughts#depressing shit#true words#words of wisdom#words to live by#darker than black#heartbroken
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Today's been kind of rough day, so I decided, dear followers, to bother you all with it, because my heart is terribly heavy tonight and I really need a rant. I understand if it's something you don't want to read so if that's the case, scroll on.
I just sometimes feel like no one cares about anything that I care about. Goodness that feels like a silly feeling, especially when I'm gifted with people who dedicate time out of their days to send me such kind messages of love, but life outside the internet is and always has been a little different and a little more lonely for me. I'm the youngest of 4 so I always had an older sibling to play with or to keep an eye on me until I was about 9, then they were too big to want to play pretend or want to hang out with me so I'd just play alone. I didn't ever really realize that it was something that would follow me forever. I'm 23 now, not a 9 year old kid that's sad that no one wants to jump on the trampoline with, but that fear of rejection lingers so deeply. Whenever I get excited about things and people look at me like I'm insane, I feel stupid that I ever thought I could let someone else in to that part of myself, when it's just been me for the last 14 years. It's so fucking overwhelming sometimes. My sister came over tonight and I feel like every time she's over, if I even try to speak it's either ignored, dismissed, or spoken over. I'll say something like "Oh I had this one lady come in to work today-" and they will just start a conversation halfway through my sentence. No one even bats an eye, it's like it's normal to do it. Someone could say "How was work?" And I'll be like telling them a funny story and they'll just stare at their phones and nod with an occasional hum of acknowledgment but they don't actually listen, I know because I'll ask them something and they won't respond and I'll ask again and they'll be like "Oh sorry what? I was distracted" and nothing feels so soul crushing as getting through a story only to find that no one was listening, like nothing you say has any value. To find out that you're fucking background noise. Everyone looks at my interests as something funny or odd because they don't share them, to a point where I am protective about them. I came out as bisexual to my family this year, a secret for about 5 years but not one I expected to reveal so soon, and they were very supportive and I'm so lucky for that. I've been a fanfiction writer for 11 years and they have never known. I revealed my sexuality, not that it was something I was ashamed of, but it feels like a secret with more weight, before I ever revealed a hobby. I'm so scared that if they do find out, it'll be something for them to make fun of until the joy is gone. It's an escape but it's all I have. I know people in my life care about me, I really do, but sometimes it really hits me how overwhelmingly lonely I am sometimes. If you have read this far, that tells me that you either love to read this shit or you just enjoy my posts and are intrigued by this long ass post. If you hate it, please don't tell me. I hate it too. I already have thought of every criticism you could use, so save your breath and let me pretend this app is my diary for one fucking second between my stranger things reblogs. I'm okay, I promise, I just needed space to vent.
#personal#venting#tw: loneliness#tw: self deprecation#yeah I recognize that this isn't healthy#I just needed to air it out and I'll delete it later#please don't reblog#save your hate#for someone who cares#life
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The sun was warm against your face, the sand warm beneath your feet, the children’s happiness was contagious but you were still lonely. It was the height of Summer and that meant it was the height of your power but it also meant that it had been a while since you saw Jack and it would be a while before you could see him again.
Despite being the Spirit of Summer, Fall and Spring were your favorite seasons. They were, realistically, the only times you could see Jack. The Summer Sun was much too strong for him and the Winter Chill would sooner freeze you then welcome you. It was only in those brief moments in the Seasons that you could meet.
So the height of Summer was both the best and the worst time for you. You could never shorten the time of your Rule but you were always keeping a running countdown.
Fall couldn’t come soon enough.
@summer-of-whump
#summer of whump#summerofwhump#summer of whump [day 12]#summerofwhump[day12]#sow#sow day 12#Day 12#tw: loneliness#rise of the guardians#rotg#Jack Frost#rise of the guardians drabble#rotg drabble#jack frost drabble#my stuff#m’s drabbles
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It feels so bad to see all my friends moving on and living their lives. So many of them are engaged, married, having kids, moving to new places and having jobs… they are all moving forward with their dreams and it sucks to sit in my feelings about it. I understand and realize the choices I’ve made in my life (rather lack thereof) that have gotten me to where I am now but fuck. I feel so behind. And a lot of those feelings hurt even more because I feel so forgotten. I thought I had strong relationships and good friends and it feels like more than just “lost touch” or “distance” it feels almost purposeful that I’ve been left behind. Yeah sure I could have run faster or worked harder to keep up but it also feels like I did. I ran as fast as I could and I worked as hard as my body and mind would let me. And I screamed. God did I scream for attention. And yet no one heard me? I’m so alone now? And it hurts even more to see the groups I was apart of still together, just without me. I feel so bad about how I’ve lived my life and I know- I know- I’m the only one with the power to change it but fuck am I so depressed it doesn’t seem worth it. BUT I KNOW IT WILL BE WORTH IT. But shit! Depression leave me alone I don’t want you here! But I need to acknowledge and let her be if I’m ever going to get through it. Ugh. Sucks sucks sucks. I don’t want to live the life I have and I also don’t know how to get to the life I want.
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I was doing well this morning. But 4pm hit and now all I can think about is how much I wish I wasn't alone today.
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bit of a rant, tw for ranting, crying, loneliness, depression, swearing
i'm gonna let you guys in on a secret: im depressed as hell. i'm lonely. i never had a good experience with people my age. i tend to hang out with people way older or way younger than me.
i have a boyfriend. but he lives in texas and we've never really met. sure i really like him, but i'm a girl who's 20 years old and has never been kissed. i need physical contact. i need that kind of affection. i can't have him love me from afar. im touch starved, you know. it's so difficult. i don't know what to do.
i'm at the point where im tired of life, but i don't want to die. nothing makes me happy but fictional characters and famous people i will never meet. and that's really unhealthy. i have a therapist, but i don't know if it's working.
im not happy. i don't know the last time i've been truly happy. i need help. i need someone who can be there for me physically.
im sorry about this. i just needed to vomit some words, i guess. i feel broken.
okay, im done.
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"Never be Alone"
Started on the sixth of January and planned to be finished on the fourteenth, but landed up not doing that. Somewhere on the sixteenth, I basically said "haha whoops" and pumped out twenty panels. According to Procreate, it took 15 hours and 37 minutes to finish Panels 1-10; 27 hours and 15 minutes on Panels 11-20; and 34 hours and 8 minutes for Panels 21-30.
In total, I have no idea. I just know it took some serious time.
Unlike with She's Gone, I wrote a script. Well, all I wrote was dialogue and some minor actions for Panels 5-23, though lines were changed "in post." Everything else was by the seat of my pants. However, I can say for sure that I was planning on ending it with N being hopeful, but all I had room for was him crying. He cannot catch a break.
(also to those who suspected uzi was still in there, guess you were right all along.)
#murder drones#solveruzi au#solver uzi#murder drones n#murder drones uzi#murder drones tessa#serial designation n#uzi doorman#tessa james elliott#the absolutesolver#i wish you could've heard the things i said while working on this#''the absolutesolver calls out n's loneliness: the comic''#''YES COIL AROUND HIM LIKE A SNAKE YESSS''#''ooh what if this was a callback to the silly nuzi kiss comic i made''#''WHAT IF THE INNER HEXAGON MOVED AROUND LIKE A PUPIL''#''uzi he can't hear you!! he's full of good vibes!!''#''oh my god. my art really IS expressive''#''this is not love this is hypnotism''#tw knife#just in case because tessa did use her chekhov's stabby stick here#zeisty’s heavy hitters#zeisty’s comic stuff
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Reflection ~A Trigun fan comic~
(Comic Script in the Keep Reading)
Context note: This takes place just after the events of TriMax Vol 10 on Brad’s ship going to December. I’m giving them more time on the trip because Livio grew a full-ass beard between pickup and drop-off (prob because of his healing factor, who knows.) Enjoy!
Vash's coffee is a reference to my first comic Black Coffee & Donuts!
Comic Script for Reflection: A Trigun Fan Comic
PAGE 1
Panel 1: Vash, with his hair down and dressed in his black undersuit, wakes up startled in a cold sweat. He clearly slept poorly bags under his eyes. It’s only been a day or two since he laid Wolfwood to rest.
Panel 2: A full body shot of him stepping out of the bed, his Colt weight down his hip, face obscured.
Panel 3: He leans over the counter in front of a mirror, shoulders hunched, head hanging.
Panel 4: He looks up, hand covering the remaining blonde of his hair so it appears full black. Large pale portraits of Rem and Wolfwood flank Vash on each side in the background.
Vash: Rem, Wolfwood, you both sacrificed everything. Funny isn’t it that I’m beginning to look more like you?
PAGE 2
Panel 1: Vash flashes back to a moment when he and Wolfwood walked side by side in the arid desert of No Man’s Land.
Vash: Wolfwood, you were there every day by my side, now I'm alone again.
Panel 2: Another flashback to a moment Vash and Wolfwood sat on the edge of a rooftop and looked out over the cityscape to the stars pricking the sky.
Vash: There was so much unsaid between us.
Panel 3: A fresh flashback to the couch, where Vash held Wolfwood's hand in his final moments.
Vash: I wish I had known how to tell you that I loved you before it was too late.
Panel 4: A dramatic crop of half of Vash’s lower face, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cries out.
PAGE 3
Panel 1: Livio, a tall, tan, broad-shoulder, white-haired man with a tribal tattoo over his left eye, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, bursts through the bedroom door concerned.
Livio: Mr. Vash, I heard crying, are you okay?!
Panel 2: Vash looks over, a little comically rattled and surprised
Vash: Livio?
Panel 3: Close-up of Vash’s lower face smiling, a tear rolling down his face.
Vash: I’m alright.
Panel 4: A blank Panel, filled with still air
Vash: Actually.
Panel 5: Big Panel, Vash crying into the crook of his arm.
Vash: I'm not... I miss him. I can’t stop missing him.
PAGE 4
Panel 1: Vash rubs the tears from his eyes, Livio grabs his arm shamefully, his body language clearly showing regret and discomfort.
Livio: I’ll uh, leave you to it, and see myself out.
Vash: It’s okay, I just didn’t want anyone to see me like this.
Panel 2: Close-up of Livio looking down.
Livio: It’s better to let yer feelin’s out than to hide ‘em and let ‘em fester, I should know.
Panel 3: Livio turns to the side and a sad snot stream runs down his nose he was trying to keep in. Livio is very much struggling allowing himself to miss Wolfwood. He doesn’t feel like, he should even though he desperately does.
Sounds effects: sniff
Vash: Now who’s keeping in their feelings? Let it out! He was your friend too, wasn’t he? You deserve to cry too.
Panel 4: Livio smiles sheepishly. He wants to make Wolfwood proud of him first.
Livio: Yeah, I suppose he was, all this time. But I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet.
Panel 5: Livio’s stomach growls LOUDLY. Draw in a chibi style, breaking the tension.
Sound effects: grumble
Panel 6: Drawn in chibi style, Vash waves around his noddle arms and Livio’s mood brightens, grinning with excitement.
Vash: Oh, are you hungry?
Livio: Hell yeah, I am!
Vash: What would you like?
Livio: Uh, pancakes!
Vash: Alright, pancakes it is!
PAGE 5
Panel 1: They sit down and eat at a retro 50s-style diner booth in a small nook of the ship. Livio swirls the last of his pancake in syrup on the plate. Vash cradles a black coffee with both hands looking at Livio.
Vash: Hey, Livio, what do you want to do when this is all over?
Livio: Dunno, maybe wander around for a while or return to the orphanage to help make up for what I and the other guy did.
Panel 2: Livio hangs his head, eyebrows worried.
Livio: If I can be honest with ya, I'm scared to face them.
Panel 3: Zoomed out drawn in chibi style to break the tension. Livio shivers.
Vash: Is that scarier than Elendira?
Sound effects: shivers
Panel 4: They laugh.
Livio: Well, when ya put it like, hell no!
Vash: Haha!
Panel 5: Extreme close-up of Livio’s eyes softening as he remembers back to his time at the orphanage.
Livio: I think he’d like that. They were my first real family.
Panel 6: Vash is hit with a sudden realization, Livio has no one right now. In a misty background, he remembers when Razlo cried out after Wolfwood did in Master Chapel.
Vash (internal): Wolfwood, you left Livio in my care... so we wouldn’t be alone.
Razlo (background): ...I’m all alone again!
PAGE 6
Panel 1: Close-up of Vash with the sincerest smile.
Vash: I hope you know you’re not alone. You have me now.
Panel 2: Livio’s face contorts sorrowfully.
Livio/Razlo (internal): I don’t deserve this.
Livio: Mr. Vash I --
Vash: Wait, before you say anything...
Panel 3: Zoom out so we can see both of them and the table. Vash extends his leg as he digs deep into his pants pocket. Livio leans on the table watching him.
Vash: I know that we don’t know each other well yet, but he trusted you with me and I trusted him, wholly and completely, so…
Panel 4: Extreme close-up, Vash pulls out 2 black leather wristbands with silver latches.
PAGE 7
Panel 1: Vash offers Livio a wristband while holding one for himself in the same hand.
Vash: Here. One for you, one for me. I used a strap from his cross to make it, so part of him will always be with us.
Panel 2: Livio puts the wristband on his left hand.
Livio: Thank you.
Panel 3: Extreme close-up of Livio’s non-tattooed eye, tears pricking his lashes.
Livio: I hope one day I can repay yer kindness.
Panel 4: They fist bump wristbands in view.
Vash: Welcome to the family, Livio.
PAGE 8
Panel 1: A large portrait of Wolfwood with his sunglasses and back turned, fills the background, smiling as he holds his cigarette in his hand.
Livio: Hey, Mr. Vash?
Vash: Mm?
Livio: Would you mind tellin’ me a lil more about him… Wolfwood? Ya see, we were close at the orphanage as kids, but I don’t know who he became. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, you owe me absolutely nothin’.
Panel 2: A close-up of Vash’s coffee, Wolfwood’s staple morning drink, Vash’s reflection smiles back, tears in his eyes.
Vash: I’d love to.
PAGE 9
Panel 1: Bonus! Sometime later. Drawn in chibi style.
Livio: Can I hug ya?
Vash: Sure, buddy!
Panel 2: They hug, Vash smiles, and Livio whimpers as he lets out the waterworks. He’s thankful for Vash’s kindness.
Panel 3: This sets Vash off, who also sobs. They cry in each other’s arms.
#Trigun#Trigun Maximum#TriMax#spoilers#Trigun Spoilers#Vashwood#Vash#Vash the Stampede#Livio#Livio the Double Fang#Nicholas D Wolfwood#Wolfwood#my art#tw character death mention#food#TrigunStampede#NO BETA WE DIE LIKE GUNG-HO-GUNS#sorry for any choppy dialogue#shoved a lot in here but wanted to touch on Trigun's running themes like loneliness and family#and Vash being heart wrenchingly kind#vash privately mourning wolfwood was a good move on nightow's part but my guy I needed to see some tears to fill the hole in my heart#take that trust line as you will to fit your narrative :3#i love these 3 idiots (affectionate) a lot and I can't fit all I want to say in the tags#this spawned from an art mistake I noticed in the manga#livio's wristbands changed from 2 to 3 at some point#it looked suspiciously like a strap from Wolfwood's cross and the rest is history#and i needed more bonding time between vash and livio#and for them to know they aren't alone in this fight#i 100% think livio would struggle mourning ww and becoming worthy to do so#I needed this so maybe someone needs it too
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