Made Me Cry - Tumblr Posts
I BOUGHT A COM FROM @scrambledmeggys AND IT CAME OUT SO PERFECTLY ALWODJSBHFD
Worth every penny and so so beautiful! Thank you so much!
hey @sombreboy, you're new fic Flesh reminds me of this song. Just saying. Also, you made me cry with that fic so 12/10 would recommend.
I Miss You
; MCU!Jungkook x Reader
; Word Count: 2.5k
; Genre: Angst, fluff
; Warnings: Mentions of death, alcoholism, pregnancy, grief
; Summary: In one moment, half of the world disappeared with a single snap of Thanos' fingers. Jeon Jungkook is one of those struggling to cope with the aftermath.
: A/N: Inspired, obviously by the Snap/Blip in the Marvel Cinematic Universe! I hope you enjoy it, I randomly got inspired to write it. All written on my phone, so please excuse formatting on errors! If you enjoyed...please reblof and leave a comment or an ask telling my why you liked it!
-
4 Years Ago
"Hi...erm, my name i-is Jeon Jungkook. I'm here because…" He pauses, unable to get the words out. The memory is still so fresh in his mind, the pain just as strong as the moment it happened. Part of him wants to feel like he's experienced the worst thing in this room, but he knows he hasn't.
Still, it doesn't erase how much the incident hurt him.
"It's okay," The group leader, Jung Hoseok, reaches out and gently squeezes Jungkook's arm. "We all understand, take your time."
Swallowing hard, Jungkook nods tersely before taking a deep breath to centre himself.
"I'm here because my wife," His voice trembles despite how hard he's trying to compose himself. "My wife was taken in the Snap. And I'm not coping with it."
Finally, he let's the tears fall as the tsunami of grief washes over him.
-
3 Years Ago
"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook. Two years ago...m-my w-wife was part of the Snap. I'm still struggling with it though, I miss her do much." Jungkook looks down at his hands, the knuckles bruised from the intense round of boxing he'd done the other night.
Exercise had become his refuge over the past year, a way for him to work through his emotions and calm himself. The physical exertion of running or boxing or weightlifting left him so exhausted that it was easy to fall into a dreamless sleep each night.
It probably wasn't a healthy habit, but at least he was doing better than some of the others in this Snap Survivors meeting. He knew for a fact that Jimin had relapsed with his sobriety the other month, the second birthday of his now gone husband, Taehyung, too much to handle. Jungkook knew because he'd become friends with them all throughout the past year.
Or those who came frequently, anyway.
Still, the exercise might help the dreams stay away but it did nothing to stop the pain whenever he thought of you. Of what could have been.
"I think I'm doing better and then I'll look something and remember a memory with her. I wish she was here."
-
2 Years Ago
"Hey everyone, most of you already know me but my name is Jungkook. My wife died three years ago in the Snap. I wish I could say that I'm moving on, but it's really hard. The more time that's passed...the more angry I get, you know?" He looks around the room at the other people seated there, gazing into their eyes and taking stock or their emotions.
"It's hard," Hoseok says, his lips twisting as he probably remembers the moment he lost his daughter. "I think it takes an incredibly strong person to not be angry at some point, so I think you've done well to last three years before finally reaching the point of anger. You're obviously a saint."
That makes everyone in the circle chuckle, some of the sounds more dark than others. Jungkook takes a moment to not Jimin's reaction, frowning in concern for his friend.
The slip from last year had been just that, a slip. He'd managed to get back onto the straight and narrow with the help of his close friends, which now included Jungkook and some of the others from this group. But Jimin was the angriest out of all of them, the hole left by Taehyung a jagged wound that bled rage and grief with each breathe. Sometimes, Jungkook wondered if Jimin was going to be one of those lost souls who simply never recovered from his loss.
The dark bags under the older man's eyes and his almost frail stature made Jungkook's heart hurt. All he wanted to do was wrap Jimin up so the poor man could never be hurt again.
"Not a saint, definitely not that. But...it was hard to be angry at something I didn't even understand. And even now, who do I get angry at? The Avengers? What's the point, that's like being angry at the sky for rain. It's not going to do anything, it's not going to bring my wife back. Thanos is dead, half the Avengers are dead and half the world is dead. One man being angry won't change it, but sometimes I can't help it." Running his fingers through his hair, Jungkook wonders if those were the right words to say.
It appears to have annoyed Jimin though, or at least touched on an exposed nerve. He had a lot of them.
"We can be angry, we can be angry at Captain America for not trying harder. At Thor for missing the shot. They're fucking superheroes, they were meant to protect us. They were meant to protect him! And all they did was watch as half the world fucking disappeared before they vanished too. We can, and we should, be angry." Jimin spits the words, each syllable laced with venom so strong it could have probably pierced even the skin of Luke Cage.
"Jimin, this is not the place for anger. You know that, we're happy to ta-"
A hand in the air cuts Hoseok off and Jimin snorts in obvious irritation.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. 'We talk through the feelings, we don't shout them.' I get it," Pausing, he looks at Jungkook before wincing. "Sorry, I interrupted."
"It's okay. I kind of agree and kind of don't. I'm mostly angry at why it was her. But I won't ever get an answer, none of us will. I'm just...still trying to come to terms with that, I guess. It's not like a person dying normally. I never got to bury her, or get to say my goodbyes. She just...vanished. We don't even know if they're really dead…"
-
1 Year Ago
"Hi...I'm Jungkook. I thought I was doing well. It's been four years since my wife was Snapped, and I was doing good. I was starting to move on. It felt like it was time, you know? To let her go and...to move on with my life. It was hard, as I haven't dated anyone else since I was twenty-one but I tried. Dating apps and all that, it was a weird experience. I don't think I really liked it, but I was willing to try. I had a few dates that went nowhere...it still feels like I'm cheating on her." Licking his lips, he paused to take a deep drink of the glass of water he'd taken.
Looking around at everyone else, he wondered who would still be coming in five or even ten years time. Hoseok was probably never really going to get over the loss of his daughter, and Jungkook felt like Jimin needed a permanent watch. But the others might move on.
Some already had, their absence felt but not envied.
"What made you feel like this though? Like you aren't doing well anymore?" It's Hoseok who asks it, his role as the leader of the group well cemented by now. His kind eyes have a tiredness behind them and Jungkook wonders what he was like before this all happened.
For a moment, he doesn't respond. Fiddling with a loose string on his jeans, he struggles to get his thoughts into order so he doesn't become a babbling mess. Not that anyone would judge him for that here, but still.
"Well, firstly it just felt wrong. I don't think I'm ready to move on romantically yet. I couldn't even kiss the women I went on dates with, so I'm not going to force myself yet." He said honestly, his cheeks flushing just a hint at his open words.
There was no rebuke from his fellow members though, instead they all remained silent and simply nodded along. It gave him the confidence to continue, even though a part of him was already wilting.
"I stopped the whole dating thing, but that's not what made me feel like this. I was doing okay, you know? I can talk about her without wanting to cry and it just...it felt...I felt good. So I decided it was finally time to go through her things. I, erm, I hadn't touched them since the Snap. It felt like it was permanent if I touched them or threw them out, so they just stayed there. But I finally went through her stuff and-" It's here that Jungkook finally stops, his throat closing on him suddenly whilst his eyes burn with tears.
He doesn't notice the sudden frown from Hoseok and Jimin, or the others who he's known for years now. It's been so long since he's broken down in front of them and they must be surprised at this.
"I went through her desk. I never touched it, didn't...it wasn't right. And in her drawer, there was this card. I didn't know why it was in there, but it had my name on the envelope. So I opened it up...it was a congratulations card. Inside it...there was a pregnancy test. It's been so long that the result had disappeared...but she'd...there was a message." Jungkook starts to cry, his lips trembling as his voice cracks.
It takes one glance to see the others are crying as well, realising just how much he'd lost that day.
"She was pregnant, we were going to have a baby."
-
Now
"Hey, I won't be able to make it to the meeting this week. I've got to go to a dinner with my parents and they're refusing to take no for an answer." Holding the cellphone between his ear and shoulder, Jungkook tries to not make any loud noises as he unloads the dishwasher.
He doesn't succeed though as one plate clatters to the counter top, the sound jarringly loud and he winces at it.
"Shit, no need to deafen me!" Hoseok laughs, his tone just as warm and friendly as it always is. "And that's fine, it's probably good for you to take a break for us anyway. We're always doom and gloom."
'Nah, it's good to talk, right? I feel a lot better nowadays and we get to do fun shit when we're not there. I remember how much you sucked at mini golf the other week."
That gets an outraged sound from Hoseok, almost too loud through the tiny speaker next to his ear but it makes Jungkook snicker in amusement.
"Excuse you! We can't all be good at everything we try." He can literally imagine the little triangle pout on Hoseok's mouth right now, causing him to grin even more.
"I take it we're not remembering that time I tried to fish? And fell in the lake? I don't think that classes as being good. But anywa-"
"Jungkook?"
For a moment, he thinks his name has come from his phone and he frowns at how feminine Hoseok suddenly sounded. But then he realises it's from inside his own house.
Jerking around, he's about to do the very manly thing of screaming before his mind finally catches up the mental exclamation mark of recognition that had lit up at the voice. For a second, the world comes to a complete halt and he becomes simultaneously hyper aware of everything yet also ignorant of everything.
He doesn't notice his phone clattering to the ground, the screen cracking even more than it already was, nor does he notice the glass he'd dropped shattering on the ground. Jungkook's entire world tunnels, his hearing and mind turning to white noise as he tries to comprehend what's happening.
And then you say his name again, bringing the world back into focus.
"Y/N?" Your name slips from his mouth, the syllables rusty from disuse and tinged with more than a hint of disbelief.
"Jungkook? What is going on? How has the house changed? How did you manage to move everything and why is your hair so long? What the fuck is going on?" Each word is so sweet to his ears, a melody he's ached to hear for five years now and yet something he'd accepted he would never hear again.
But here it is...and here you are.
"Y/N...you're here? This is real?" Jungkook doesn't even notice when he starts to cry, the tears following a pattern down his face that they've done many times over the years. But it's different this time.
"What...what are you-" Before you can say anything else, Jungkook is rushing over to you. His rubber soled house slippers crunch on the glass, ruining the soles but protecting his feet. He doesn't even notice, not when his trembling hands cup your face.
At the first touch of his fingertips to your soft skin, he bursts into heaving sobs of dual relief and agony. Five years of emotions comes bubbling to the surface, fighting for priority and he doesn't know what to feel.
He only gets a moment to recognise the bewildered look on your face before he's wrapping you in his arms, holding on so tightly. The feel of you against him, so warm and familiar yet foreign at the same time makes him cry even harder. You were here, you were back.
Jungkook's reaction must frighten you, and the combination of that and the obvious differences in both him and your environment in what was only seconds for you causes you to shiver in fear against him. Pressing your head to his chest, you try to comfort him even though you don't know what's wrong.
"Kook...what happened? What's wrong?" You ask softly, voice quivering as you try to take solace in his familiar body. But it's unfamiliar at the same time.
He's broader than before, his muscles more prominent and hair longer. A ring pierces one side of his mouth whilst two small balls are pierced into his brow and even more tattoos grace his arm. The changes are significant...and old.
"You're here, you're here. I missed you so much, oh my god, I missed you so much. I love you, I never stopped loving you, I found the card and I love our baby too, I swear." Jungkook rambles on, his hands stroking along your back almost like he's trying to imprint every line and curve into his mind whilst he cries, cheek pressing to your head.
You desperately want to know what happened, but you also recognise instinctively that your husband needs this. He needs to simply hold you, convince himself that you're here and not a figment of his imagination, so you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him back just as tightly.
'I'm here...I'm here, Jungkook. I love you too, it's okay. I'm here."
Support group for each of them
I was feeling a little sad and I saw this it made my day.
I never read the series until I was an adult, and the first book legitimately made me cry! Knowing Jango was going to die made it even worse. Here’s this kid who sees his dad as his entire world, and that world is ripped away from him in one instant at the start of a war he can’t possibly understand. It really makes you hate all the adults involved even more, especially people like Palpatine and Dooku, knowing that this tragedy will repeat itself many times over across the galaxy. And seeing how no one even gives a crap about this kid afterwards is especially heartbreaking.
(Mace is really cold-hearted about the whole thing in the Clone Wars series, telling Boba “You’ll just have to forgive me.” Not a sorry or anything. Granted, the kid had just tried to kill him, but damn, not an ounce of compassion or understanding. I respect him as a Jedi, but I can’t forgive his treatment of Boba. He demands understanding without showing it himself.)
i got a book about boba fett as a child at the library and it’s the worst decision i’ve ever made
Since I’ve become known on here for making lists here’s a list of comic panels that make me so horrifically and inconsolably upset that I wanna rip my own face off
(fair warning a lot of these involve child death because this is dc we’re talking about)
1. Dick comes back from a mission in space and finds out that Jason died
The New Titans #55
2. Bruce promises a dying Steph that he will ensure the baby she gave up “will never want for anything”
Batman: War Games (2005) Act 3 #8
3. This specific artist’s version of Bruce holding Jason’s body
(I can’t find the source no matter how hard I look I’m so sorry)
4. Bruce hugs Damian’s torn Robin uniform to his chest shortly after Damian died
Batman and Robin (2011) #18
5. Roy wonders if Lian’s last words were “daddy help”
Justice League: The Rise of Arsenal #1
6. Also, Roy saying “love you, Lian” when he thinks he’s about to die
The Flash 2021 Annual vol 1 #1
7. Donna snaps her zombified baby’s neck
Blackest Night: Titans
8. Barbara gets frustrated with Cass’s inability to read and calls her stupid
Batgirl (2000) #54
9. Bruce beats the Joker while yelling Jason’s name
Batman: Knightfall vol 1
10. Alfred promises 8 year old Bruce that he’ll teach him how to use a rapier “like Zorro” if he agrees to go to his parents’ funeral
Batman: Curse of the White Knight #7
Got tears in my eyes from reading this😭😭 Thank you so much for doing this ask. This hit very close to home to me to since I deal with self images problems as well, and this felt like a very warm hug being given to me. You inspired me to write a story like this as well. Thank you again
Since your the queen of fluff, I had to make this request.
It’s more an angst/comfort/fluff, but I want to see Alastor dealing with his girlfriend/lover having body dysmorphia. The comfort in O Mother Mine for him was beautifully portrayed and I want Alastor to provide comfort back. Cant wait to see what you write🩷💖❤️
This was - and still is - an ask that hit very much home for me. Struggling with my self image and a long, very taxing time living with an ED since my teens, I had to take my time writing this - Because with all this history weighing in my own back pocket, I wanted to write something my younger self would've found comfort in reading. Which is why there's a lot of my own experiences woven in. Thank you for this ask, my dear. And to all who fight the fight against their own head each day - I see you. And you are worthy of every bit and piece of love, external and internal. I let our dear deer take it from here.
TW: Explicit depictions & mentions of ED and body dysmorphia - 3k words
“Why don't you want one? Do they look bad? Don't you like my chocolate chip cookies?”
Niffty stared at you, her one big eye glazed and watery, and you felt that at her whining remark all eyes were on you. Shit.
You had been at Charlie's group therapy activities for hours by now, everyone was exhausted and hangry enough for Vaggie to intervene and propose a lunch break. You managed to discreetly dodge every dish that was going around the table, making sure to have an alibi piece of bread and a few leaves of salad on your plate, just in case anyone would look at you funny, and it was good that you did. You glanced around the table to find Alastor of all people staring at you from the other side, and pretending obliviousness you turned to Angel with a smile, laughing at whatever he said, and shoved a few bits of salad into your mouth. ‘See, I'm eating, all good.’
You thought the worst was over when the others pushed their dishes into the middle of the table with content sighs and filled bellies. But then Niffty had been hopping around, offering everyone the masses of cookies she had been baking with Pentious the evening before, and Niffty was just not dodgeable.
“Aw Niff, of course I do, and they look amazing! But I'm so full, stuffed, I really can't take another bite.” Perhaps you imagined it, but you thought you heard a static crack of feedback and you shot a quick glance over to Alastor, but he was drinking his After-Lunch coffee with closed eyes, detached and apparently trying to drown out the babbling sinners around him. Irritated, you turned to the little, pouting cyclops girl again, your voice purposely louder as you said “Tell you what, I'll take one now and save it for later, okay? I can't pass up on your delicious treats, can I?”
That seemed to do the trick, and when you wrapped the cookie you took from a beaming Niffty into a napkin and slid it in your pocket, she and everyone else seemed satisfied and they turned their attention elsewhere - At least you hoped they were.
Another few long, dragging hours later Charlie finally released you all, and the communal groan of relief was only overlapped by the pitter-patter of multiple pairs of feet rushing behind Husk to the bar in desperate need for a strong drink. You were contemplating to join them, even if it was just for a glass of water, but that thought was instantly buried when Angel called over to you.
“Oy, toots, come on and drag ‘ya fat ass over here, I need ‘ya to tell sourpuss here to let me pluck his overgrown eyebrows. Bitch is starting to look like Frieda Kahlo.”
It was an innocent, friendly-meant remark. You knew that. Angel was your friend, you knew that. The laughter that followed his call was a reaction to his crassness. You knew that. But your already aching stomach twisted, and it took everything in you to keep your face from crumbling, and the smile on your lips felt fragile when you answered.
“No can do, Ange, I’m heading to my room. I feel a headache coming up. See you guys later.”
You hurried out the hall as fast as you allowed yourself without looking like you’re fleeing, passing Charlie in vivid conversation with Alastor, throwing her a dismissive wave of the hand when she broke off in the middle of her sentence to ask if you needed anything and ignored the red eyes that were burning your back as you speeded to the lift.
For a moment you felt safe inside the elevator, closing your eyes and leaning back against the wall to deeply breathe in and out to calm your racing thoughts when the doors closed. But then you opened them again, your reflection was staring back at you from the mirrored wide wall of the lift cabin. You stared blankly at the hated body in front of you, eyes mapping every curve that was too wide, every point your clothes wrinkled over a roll of fat.
Oy toots, get your fat ass over here…Fat ass..Fat...
You ran out of the cabin the moment the 'ding' announced your arrival at your floor and the doors opened, vision blurry from the pooling tears. As soon as you slammed the door to your room shut and turned the key in the lock behind you, you sobbed, leaning your head on the hard wood of your bedroom door. Tears were streaking your face as you sank down to sit on the floor and wrapped your arms around yourself, shoulders shaking from suppressed and failed attempts to cry silently. The room was silent, but your head was loud. Too loud.
Honey, you can't go to school like that, you look like a stuffed sausage. Go back and change…
No, pumpkin, the hamburger is for daddy. You’ll eat a salad, like mommy. Don’t you want to be as beautiful as mommy…
A Bikini? Wow, someone's feeling brave today...
You'd look so beautiful babe, if you'd only lose a few pounds...
Oy toots, get your fat ass over here...
"Shut up, shut up, shut up." It was no use. Begging them to stop never helped. Your hands pressed down on your ears but they couldn’t silence the insistent, ghostly voices inside, louder and louder and louder, repeating the same sentences over and over again and you wanted to rip them off, just to maybe get them out, deafen them, make them…
“Stop that now, Darling." Two hands that were not your own were on yours, long fingers peeling them away from your ears and taking them in tender but firm grips to pull your arms apart. Those foreign hands were dark and warm and much bigger than yours, holding you by the wrists as they pulled you away from the door and back onto your feet. Without releasing them, you felt a chest pressing against your back as the hands on your wrists guided them into an embrace, cageing you with crossed arms in front of you in warmth and the firm, humming body of Alastor. "There now, that's much better isn't it. Now breathe, dearest, with me. Do it with me."
Your mind was a haze of scattered and pained thoughts and fears that were struggling and lashing out to the surface, but they quieted into soft whimpers and whizzing like a dying steam train with every steady, deep inhale Alastor took with you, his chest rising against your back and his breath steady in your ears. He waited a few moments after he had made you breathe normally again before letting go and gently turning you to face him, hands now on your shoulders as you avoided his eyes, but when he looked at your face and your tear streaked cheeks he wiped the wetness away from your skin with the pad of his thumb.
"Why did you come?" You sounded husk and defeated. You knew your jig was up. You've been found out. At last.
"How did I not come sooner would be the better question, darling." Alastor answered, leaving his hand cupped on your cheek, thumb still in mid-stroke as he talked to your averted face. His voice was clear, even-keel, just loud enough for you to hear. And you heard him all the better for not facing him, his signature transatlantic accent and theatrical flourish in his tone, always so strong and prominent, was missing entirely as he continued. "For a few weeks now I've suspected that something was not right with you, my dear. Though I didn't want to press the matter, today has confirmed this. You've not eaten any of the food prepared, spare the few bits of greenery that wouldn't even nourish the roaches that pester this hotel, and we both know you only did because you knew you were being watched."
Watched by him. You sighed quietly at the accuracy, finally turning to look at him, awaiting to find judgment and ridicule, though the red deer demon didn't move at all. He just carried on his stroke with the thumb under your eyes, which started tearing up again, his expression strangely soft.
"My shadows reported that you were hiding food given to you just to throw it away later, and I took notice how you constantly avoided reflective surfaces. Darling, your image must haunt you and I cannot imagine the reason why. I find myself asking: What would drive you to starve yourself, to hide from mirrors and cut your eyes to any remarks looking for underlying maliciousness?"
What a loaded question, asked so simply. And he seemed honestly confused. No smirk, no tilted head. You paused for a long while before answering him.
"You... you won't understand, Alastor."
"Then help me to, darling." He coaxed you, now moving both his hands to hold your face and pull your head closer to lean his forehead to yours, looking firmly in your eyes. And it dawned on you then that the radio demon, the overlord who never revealed weakness, never showed real emotions or shared much with anyone, the one demon who walked these halls smiling and sneering with menace and mystery and endless pride, was purposely and genuinely showing you that he cared.
Maybe it was the fatigue and the despair finally getting the best of your defense system. Maybe it was because he wasn't just anybody. Alastor was so many things but most importantly, he was your friend, had been ever since you and him found mutual interests in each other in countless nights that were spent in quiet by the fireplace in the hall. He liked your level-headedness, your ability to listen, really listen, patiently and actively. You liked his vivaciousness, the vast knowledge of him that he could share when one was just willing to let him talk. Yes, the others were nice, and yes, you felt close to all of them after a few months. But you felt the closest to him, proven by the fact that not Charlie knocked on your door, or Angel noticed you were paler and thinner than weeks ago. But Alastor. Maybe you just needed that final push and he had given it to you.
So you spilled. Through sobs, tears and sighs, you told him everything:
From your family that wouldn't stop comparing you with your thinner friends, fostering a hatred for food because of misguided care. You shared that your health became less and less important with every diet and lost pound, seeing your aching stomach as a sign of sucess. How you'd hate yourself for lack of discipline when you starved yourself so much your brain snapped and you ate any- and everything you found until you felt sick and disgusting. How your friends while alive were never intentionally hurtful, yet dismissive about your insecurities, complaining to you about their sizes while you felt like they were mocking you, being stick thin and conventionally beautiful. And you told him about your one and only boyfriend, who accepted the relationship under the pretense that you'd change to fit his preferences, always waiting for you to drop weight he saw as too much, to shape you the way he wanted you to be, threatening to keep you secret from his friends and family until you did. And you did. But you paid the bitter price - got cheated on while you counted calories, and when you finally reached the set weight he dictated, he left. Leaving you hungry and confused, thin and sick and so, so lost.
With every word his hold on you grew tighter and tighter. But so did yours on him. This time, it was him who listened quietly, never interrupting, and only at the mention of that asshole ex is when he made a sound, his ears went flat against his skull as a low growl rumbled in his throat, but his expression remained perfectly stoic, absorbing your words quietly. After you finished you leaned heavily against Alastors chest and hid your face there, feeling drained and guilty for soaking his expensive coat with your pitiful tears. Your entire body was numb with exhaustion and pain, so was the emptiness inside of you that your self-deprecating thoughts have been inhabiting for years, and you dreaded the response Alastor could give to your pathetic life-story.
"All those people have proven to you to be thoroughly disappointing." was what Alastor said first, speaking very softly with his chin leaning against your scalp. "It makes the blood call for revenge when thinking about the throes you've had to put up with. You don't owe anybody to change anything about yourself that you do not wish to."
You couldn't hold back another tear that rolled down your nose and onto Alastor's shirt, clinging tighter to him and shaking your head against his shoulder, nuzzling his shirt in desperate and trained denial of comforting words.
"Aren't they right though? I'm not like Charlie, or Angel, or even you. I'm not...they are so… just... look at me." You muttered and tried to push out of the hug to avoid looking him in the eye, but the demon didn't give.
"Oh, I am." He gave you a stern stare, unintimidating and almost tender as he pulled you back closer. "Darling, I am looking at you, more than you think. And all I see is a strong, intelligent and beautiful little sinner, so willing to give everyone more grace and gentleness than herself that she hides from every compliment she deems unworthy of her, ashamed of her lovely shape that was the source of so much torment." Alastor sighed, cupping your face in a loose grip, shaking his head in disbelief. "Everyone of us has flaws, we are inherently imperfect creatures, some more than others, and yet you've managed to convince yourself those flaws and imperfections define you in their entirety."
Your instincts told you to flee, to run from this kindness that was offered to you so alluringly. It has to be a trap, your head told you, don't trust those words, don't give in. And you almost tried to, your muscles tensed as if to bolt, your breath quickened as if about to run, your heart pounded as if preparing to fight his arms for release. But you didn't.
Maybe, a long forgotten voice spoke in your mind, maybe it wasn't a trick. Maybe he was earnest, like he had been the past couple months in your company. He's here now, isn't he? Holding you and reassuring you and calming you in a way no one ever had. He hadn't put an inch between him and you to allow your doubts space to creep back in, keeping you at his side - not just now, but over the last weeks continuously, had never spoken ill of you or tried to change you, had no agenda, nothing to gain from lying to you.
Alastor smiled when you sank back into his arms, and this time when he stroked your tears away, he let his fingers come to rest at your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. And without a word he leaned forward, eyes half closed, and kissed you on your cheek. His lips lingered for a moment, as if to wait for your reaction, asking a question without words. And you answered it ever so silently, turning your head to meet them with your own.
The kiss was a revelation of truth. Because he was kissing you the way you always longed to be kissed.
There wasn't passion in it, it wasn't hungry and fast or hard and demanding. It wasn't meant to make you hot or make your legs weak, but to tell you that you were cared for, that you were accepted exactly the way you were, imperfections included, and that all the days you've suffered for the wrong reasons were gone with the past and needn't to be re-visited. That you were enough. You always have been.
When he parted from you, Alastor looked content. More than that, actually. Not smiling wide as usually but with eyes sparkling in mirth that could have easily matched that of Charlie on a particularly good day. When he leaned into you again, you almost expected another kiss, but he reached into your pocket, pulling the napkin with Niffty's cookie inside out of your pocket, holding it up expectantly.
"Now, I think it's high time you feed yourself, darling - and you did promise our little Niffty you'd enjoy this later, which it is now."
You stared, first at Alastor, then at the baked good, the guilty conscience you've nursed for so many years creeping back into your thoughts.
"Alastor, I don't know... if I can."
He tilted his head contemplating, turning the cookie in his hand before he snapped it in half, handing you one half while he brought the other to his mouth and raised a brow.
"We'll share it then."
This gesture was everything. It was everything, because you knew he really didn't care for sweet treats. But he cared for you.
You took your half from his hands, feeling the corners of your lips pull into a small smile at the way he scrunched his nose at the sticky thing in his hands when you both bit in. But his free hand found yours, entwining your fingers as he suffered through his bite, and as you watched him him struggling to keep an unfazed expression, you thought that - while Niffty might've put in her best efforts - nothing she or anyone could make could ever sate your hunger more than his lips could.
Tagging my lovely testreaders @bapple117 and @macabr3-barbi3, who really encouraged and reassured me. I love you both, as well as the others in Bapples discord server (TRUST US and join NOW) who never tire of lifting me up when I'm struggling <3
I knew this was today and was expecting a mention, but honestly? Sticks Out hit me just as hard today as it did last year
he bonked his silly head on da floor...
I cried so hard again😭😭😭😭😭😭 You my dude,have a bright future with THAT big brains 😁
I cannot sleep so here I am ranting about why Monika is so tragic and that her realization towards the end of DDLC was absolutely perfect.
To start things off, Monika had ZERO idea about the real world outside of her world until the player joined her game, her world. The whole dating simulator could not have started without player because player was the trigger that activated the game to be set into motion. While everything was set into motion, Monika could have suddenly been hit with an odd feeling, a feeling and presence that she had never sensed before. Hell, she could’ve felt that peculiarity exactly when you download Doki Doki Literature Club. It was that moment that her conflict between herself, her world, and our world began.
So many people hate Monika for what she did to the other club members Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki. However, in a way this can be justified if we just take a look into Monika’s thought process.
The simplest way to describe Monika’s predicament would be to call it an existential crisis. Once she realizes that the player is different from everything around her as in terms of genuineness, how real player feels compared to everything else around her, she begins to question the events that happened prior. She questions everything, including her closest friends who are presumably her club. She then doubts all the happiness and care and love that the other three girls have shown her all this time. In her eyes, all the work she put into everything she did, from creating the Literature Club, to literally navigating her own person to become the popular athletic lovable girl became… insignificant. And it is detrimental when someone starts to think that everything they’ve worked for has been for nothing. She’s no longer happy, in fact she hates everything around her because it only reminds her of the storm that is thundering inside of her. She sees nothing the same anymore, and now she is desperate for a solution. That solution sparks within her when she realizes that, unlike everything else in her reality, she has power.
Monika decides to use that power to obtain something she has never had before… something real. When the game begins, it clicks in her mind that the player is indeed real unlike her world. Desperate for a sense of true humanity, true love, true happiness, and true purpose, Monika tampers with the game script to make everything go her way. Now these are the horrific, infamous events that occur in DDLC.
Perhaps if Monika were in a better mental state, no one would have been treated so violently. But because of her crisis, she felt hatred towards her entire world. In fact, she could have been the most malicious and emotional towards the girls who she thought were her truest friends because she feels as if it’s their fault that her reality hurts so much. In her desperation, she justifies her own actions in those moments because she knows that none of them are truly real and that they don’t actually feel pain unlike she can. Plus, her actions led to you finally noticing her, which is what she needed in order to get a grasp of the reality she wanted anyway.
During the climax, she’s actually happy to be in your presence. She fell in love with you out of the desperation of wanting something real. Monika became attached to you, and saw you as the only thing that can make her feel any real emotion, love, and happiness. It was her own desperation that led to her demise. Unfortunately, she was forced to face the consequences of what she did to her world. The player never asked for anything that Monika did, you only wanted to play a cutesy video game. The way she twisted it was so psychotic, and Monika couldn’t even see that.
It was only when you deleted her that she finally realized her wrongdoings. She also realized that she’ll never truly fit in anywhere. If she were to stay in DDLC, she would only feel empty inside and starving for something more. If she were to be a part of our reality, she would realize that she can never be considered human because in our world, she would instead be considered artificial intelligence (AI). When she accepts her fate, it is out of the sadness of knowing that she can never be happy anywhere. That’s why she is not present during the final scenes of the game.
That is until Monika deletes the game as a whole. Her character file was deleted, but somehow that artificial intelligence managed to stick around and cling onto Sayori. With that remaining self-awareness, Monika was able to manifest herself onto that for a final chance of redemption. Her life within the game flashes before her eyes, every memory and every core event that happened seems to be rushing back. The ways that she hurt her friends immediately occurs in her mind, and it’s that guilt that makes her strive to make it up to them, even if they weren’t truly real. As if wanting to protect her friends from the realization that she had, Monika decides to do one last thing before she “dies”. As if it were some sort of way to let her friends be released from DDLC peacefully, she deletes everything. The world, her school, her club, her dearest friends. She gave herself up in order to protect the things she truly loved in her life. She truly loved her friends, even if they weren’t real, because they had stuck with her all this time, way before player joined. Those were the purest forms of love that she felt, and it must’ve been sad for her to realize that.
Monika’s final send off, “Your Reality”, acts sort of like a reflection of herself and mainly a final display to the player, you, that she did have humanity within her. You can tell by the piano, her voice, and her lyrics that the song is completely genuine and from the bottom of her heart. She wants DDLC to end on a good note because 1) Monika never had that chance to end like that herself, and 2) She doesn’t want you to be upset, she wants you to be happy because she truly did love you. She doesn’t want you or anyone else to go through the same thing she did, and I think that is fricking raw.
If you made it to the end of this rant, damn. I’d like to hear your thoughts and opinions about Monika’s while arc. Thanks for reading haha <3
Okay I have just finished watching the Half of It and I have so many emotions and thoughts right now and none of them are coherent. There were just so many great heartfelt moments and the characters where well written and it felt so real. I grew up in a very similar setting as Ellie so I honestly really related to her feelings of isolation. Her and Paul's friendship was just so wonderful and soft?? This movie really showcases how the most meaningful and impactful relationships in your life can be your friends or one amazing wonderful friend who accepts you and believes in you and just allows you to be you.
Anyway that's my quick little rant there where so many other things I could talk about but I'm too tired so I'll leave it at this for now.
🍍🦉🐛
Last week I was planning to do some work on my Fall of the Silver Imperium hack (I really need to come up with a name for it, but I hate titles), but then the internet crashed right as I went on lunch and I was working from a Google doc. I could have written long-hand, but that seemed like work, so instead I did a pencil sketch of the previously-mentioned gut-punching long-con game of Apocalypse World I played at GenCon. All I had was a shitty ballpoint, but I think it turned out well.
(As the drawing (and the caption) would imply, Apocalypse World is a game that plays with gender a lot.)
Okay so this is rushed.. but this series has inspired me so much i have another animatic that I’ve been working on for 3 weeks on its way. Just had to poop something out quickly to post because I felt like it. Go read @somerandomdudelmao comic!
TW: character death, sibling death