Subtract @desolatedchronos-blog - Tumblr Blog

The Left Field of Your Eyes

Pairing: RHFB (Rage Heart x Furious Blade) WC: 2359 Fandom: Elsword

Why is it so cold?

That was the first thought he had when he ventured on the pathway to Sword Taker. He had realised how powerful his Nasod arm was when he used it in battle. Its ability to create explosions and raging fires was amazing in one aspect, but terrifying on another. Using it in day to day life was troublesome. Opening door knobs with his Nasod arm meant ripping the door knob loose, or using a fork to eat meant bending the metal itself. Although the changes were more apparent in battle, he knew he couldn’t rely on his Nasod arm solely or else the pent up rage within him would go berserk.

With this in mind, he relied on discipline and his old swordsmanship to take down his enemies instead. On the other hand, his alternate self lived up to his title of being reckless and rageous. Blade has seen him lose himself multiple times and tried to control his fury with Nasodic machinery, but in the end, understood that running away from his fate was making his anger grow. It was admirable to see someone so unstable reach enlightening peaks of mind and body. The raven-haired man had become powerful with blooming white spreading on his formerly black hair. Admirable, yes, praiseworthy, yes, but…

What about himself? What about his own state of mind? Instead of working on his Nasod arm, he focused on his human counterpart and with each disuse came a shuddering coldness. It came to haunt him every single moment of his life and he wore the white coat to make sure he didn’t freeze to death. His coat was never enough to keep him warm and he shivered alone when no one was looking. Why didn’t it get easier as time went by? He believed he would somehow grow accustomed to the coldness devouring him, but it never got easier. Just as pain and sadness didn’t get easier.

The presence from before gazed at him with golden, burning eyes and was closing on in at a slow rate. Clink went his arm as it lowered from its previous position, crossed arms. Maybe it was due to Blade shivering in front of the fire, but he didn’t sense anyone coming towards him. Only when the ringing sound of metallic armor clattered did he realize that someone had been watching him. A sense of dread sliced through him, causing him to jerk his head behind him to see who it was. The same searing eyes he knew so well were staring down at him with a flat-lined mouth and a straight scar, lining the right side. Since when did he…? It had probably been a while and yet Blade was unable to notice such a strong presence. Was he growing dull? Or was it his moment of vulnerability that allowed the man to come close? Either way, he knew this was something he didn’t want to have happened. The last thing he wanted was those eyes to lay on him. Through trained restraint, he quietened down his shivering and slowly stood up to meet the other’s height. The dread shaking away within his chest would not disappear, but he gulped it down as if it was a lump of poison. The flames that burned behind Blade were growing hungry before giving way to a familiar winter. His shoes sunk into the snow with each crunch, crack, crunch on the path he chose. If there was one thing he hadn’t expected to happen, it was the soul crushing regret that he felt eating away inside of him. Blade knew that his own Nasod arm was dangerous--risky to behold and malevolent in nature. Was it the fear that he couldn’t control it? Or was it the arrogance in who he originally was? Unaccepting of the fate he had been dealt with, he decided it was best for him to go down the path of humanity. He had a pack to protect, comrades to fight alongside with, this wasn’t the time to err on which side he was on. On the other hand, his other self had decided differently. A path of reckless abandon, tearing apart those who would stand in his way. A man who blurred the lines between his human self and his artificial self. It became a matter of having the power to destroy the enemy, even at the cost of his own human status. Blade detested that ideal, that indomitable rage that would one day swallow everything. On that winter day, they had separated from one another. Ideals that clashed together for far too long that they were no longer compatible. Blade wanted to forget it, wanted to rest, but there was that one question that prevented him from forgetting.

The Bros

WC: 6969 (why. WhY?! God has forsaken me, I have forsaken me, my hands are forsaken me, I am HANDLESS) Legit didn’t edit this bc 6969 IS PERFECT NOTE: This is for @rainsonata‘s birthday that was weeks ago and I’m late and I’m soRRY1!11!1!!! PAIRING: RSDC/RMFPish EXTRA NOTE o uob: Please, DC is done calculating :^) he’s looking at this word count and has a gun to my head-

Chung didn’t believe he would require help. At the budding age of sixteen, he had become known as the Deadly Chaser whose duty was to strike down enemies with his Silver Shooters. His strength was admirable for someone his age, but he wasn’t strong enough. No, he was never ready for something this world-shattering. By the age of sixteen, his father had fallen victim to the demons’ influence and attacked Hamel’s protectors in obedience. The teenager cursed himself for not being capable enough and armed himself with the Destroyer and his trustworthy Silver Shooters. They were loaded with destructive bullets that could be refilled anytime Chung so desired. With his weapons ready, he launched himself onto the battlefield… How could he have known this would happen? How could he have known that his father--under the influence of the demons--had become stronger than before? All those times he had sparred with his father meant nothing. His pride had been destroyed to an immense degree and he could feel his bones cracking upon impact of his father’s cannon. Skin broke way to flesh, flesh broke way to marrow and he fell upon the bloodied ground of Hamel. His body was so heavy, so filled with shame and hesitation. This wasn’t the time to hesitate, yet there it was. It reared its ugly head at him, snorting and breathing upon his shoulder. He could feel its metallic gaze, filling his nostrils with its tainted air. He couldn’t die like this, not when his father was still there, not when he could still save him from this! “F-father…” he croaked, struggling to pull himself up from the ground. How many of his bones were broken, or fractured? He didn’t care. There was simply no time to care about something as feeble as shattered bones. A bellowing roar striked at him, pushing him into another stone wall with unrelenting force. Chung could no longer feel the pain by then and his own body automatically tried to get up, ignoring its own protests. “...f-father...it’s me…” “How dare you challenge the demons?!” came the roaring response. “This is it! I will exterminate every bit of you!” It hurt. It was painful. It hurt so much. The boy had no choice but to raise his wounded arm, heavy as a stone pillar, to fight back. His Silver Shooter had never felt so cold before in his bloodied hand, but he could not feel its weight more than he did of his arm. There was nothing more painful in his life than to point his gun at his beloved kin. His chest heaved in air, trying to dull the pain with the sensation of breathing, and his eyes were unfocused and pained with dried tears. His father was splitting in two images, phasing in and out of reality. If this was some wicked dream, or hallucination, Chung would rather have that than this outcome. It wasn’t a hallucination. This was real and he was on the battlefield facing his father’s outrage. This was real and he was dying fast. Still, he raised his gun at his own father and he gritted his teeth in agony. He couldn’t pull the trigger in time when his consciousness finally gave in. His mind blacked out and there was nothing to catch his fall to the ground. The burden of his fight was lifted off, but maybe it would be his last fight. Was it better this way? Better to die, than to suffer living a life without his father? Maybe so...maybe it was--

He woke up. His consciousness seeped into his vision and he blinked away the tears that had formed. The dream of guilt and shame was flickered away with his awareness. Was it a dream? He damn well wished it was. Any minute now, his father would be checking up on him and he would have had passed out from a spar, or something. Life was never forgiving and the numbing pain in his body showed it so. He couldn’t sit up to wipe away his own tears, or to hide his freshly made humiliation. There was no one in the room and he felt stupid for expecting his father to be there. It dawned on him that reality had too much in store for him, too much for him to bear. A boisterous noise was coming from the other side of the door and it was here that he met Elsword, the Rune Slayer. At first, he couldn’t believe a kid his age would be so loud and so cringey at the same time. It came as a surprise when Elsword had revealed himself to be the younger brother of Elesis, the Red Knight. She was a legendary Knight whose ability to handle both demons and enemies was superb and inspiring. Chung had heard of both her accomplishments and of the Elgang’s. He thought it was lead by Elesis who was vastly experienced in leading soldiers and higher ranks. This made him think back to himself. At the age of thirteen, he was given command of a small unit and taught how to lead men into battle. It required many practice drills and sleepless nights of poring over books, absorbing tactics and the art of war. Not that his family specified in war, but they have certainly dipped their feet in it. Even so, he could feel an inferiority to both his father and Elesis Sieghart. Elesis had also commanded a smaller unit at a young age and proved her skills through determination and hard work. Chung had done that, too, but tales of the Red Knight of Velder spread throughout the land of Elrios, and she was formidable and powerful. Compared to himself, Chung was mostly known as Helputt’s son and heir to the Seiker position. Where was the recognition for his own ability to command and to fight? Was it because he abandoned the use of the Destroyer that people grew to be ashamed of him? That could be the case, but this was the path he forged and this was the path he would continue on until the end. Despite his resolve, it was easy to be disheartened by his father’s shadow and the shadow of Elesis herself. She was an independent, yet courageous young woman, and to meet her face-to-face was intimidating. He didn’t need that right now when he had lost his father to the demons. “My name’s Elsword Sieghart! I’m the Leader of the Elgang,” were the first words from him--wait, what? Chung made a confused noise and looked from Elesis to Elsword to Elesis and back. She wasn’t the leader? He wanted to ask Elsword how old he was because he must’ve been the same age as himself, but it would be rude on their first meeting. He chose to stay quiet for the time being and only talked when he had to. Throughout his recovery, he had gotten to know both of them and the rest of the Elgang. It came to his attention that Elsword was more similar to him than he expected. Elsword had been in the shadow of Elesis for so long and was still being misunderstood. There it was, the guilt. He was guilty of not recognizing Elsword’s achievements of leading the Elgang. To lead such an amazing group of people at the mere age of sixteen was immensely demanding, yet Elsword managed to take on that burden along with the disappointments with it. It was praiseworthy, but pitiful at the same time. It would probably take a lot for Elsword to be recognized for his talent and ability. No one would care to think that a sixteen year old was the leader. Chung could easily see that either Elesis, or Raven would be seen as the leader, given their actual experience. But, Elsword? He would always be in their shadow and feel insecure about himself, or at least, that was what Chung thought. It never occurred to him how cheerful Elsword was for a while when all he could think of was his lost father. Once he got up and walking, he joined the Elgang since his goal aligned with theirs. To defeat the demons and restore peace to Elrios. He would not turn his back on them and not to Elsword.

He often compared himself to Elsword. The young knight had a heavy burden thrusted upon him, to save the world from both demons and any threats. One could compare this burden to carrying the world on his very shoulders. Even if Elsword wasn’t alone in this, it would still be hard and painful to do that. Was that the one thing he couldn’t compare, however? Chung never had responsibilities quite as large as Elsword’s and that was where the comparing skidded to a stop. He couldn’t relate and he was alone once more. He shouldn’t complain. He was wrong. The more and more closer he got to the Elgang and Elsword, the more attached he became to his new friends. Chung became appreciative of Elsword’s ability to lead, seeing the Rune Slayer try his damndest to protect and lead his friends. Could he ever be as strong as him? Maybe never, maybe so. That didn’t matter now. What mattered was that he would help Elsword carry his burden as a close friend. Were they close? It appeared so. For each time they fought alongside each other, they would fight in unity and covering their backs. Sparring had never been so much fun, as well. The Chaser remembered having bruises and cuts from sparring with soldiers and his father, but never quite enjoying it. With Elsword, it was a different story. He was easily enjoying the young knight’s skills and energy. … This was getting out of hand. Why was it getting out of hand? It was because he found himself thinking about Elsword the more he sparred and was with him. There became a point in time when he wanted to know what Elsword was doing, how he was doing and where he was when they were separated from each other. Sometimes the Elgang had to split into groups to complete their tasks and he didn’t always get to pair up with Elsword during so. He felt a great trust being emitted from Elsword. Chung proved himself to be a trustworthy and strong member, and earned Elsword’s trust when it came to advice on how to lead the Elgang. Although Raven and Elesis had more expertise, Elsword always seemed to come to Chung for advice. It was strange, and it was giving him mixed signals. Was he feeling something he shouldn’t be feeling? That was how he thought. He had to stay focused on the task ahead, but his mind always wandered to Elsword and thinking about what he was doing. Their adventures to defeat demons and monsters became dangerous and arduous as it had always been, but Chung had the thirst to become stronger. He had to become stronger, or else something might happen again. Since he had joined the Elgang, there had been a debilitating fear that he might lose them, too. Why was this appearing now all of a sudden? The Chaser stood in Elysion amongst Nasods and the heavenly background. Chung felt like he was going to lose something soon, like an ominous omen that strikes out from the blue. Was he going to lose something precious to him? He had to become stronger before that happened and to an extent, he had. He had transcended from his previous stage and had taken down so many enemies. His white armor had been bloodied in many battles, growing crimson red before washing down to its white and black. Even with his growing strength, the fear wouldn’t stop assaulting him. Again. He was bleeding hard, again. Not physically like he had before, but it was painful. Extremely so. It felt like he was bleeding from every orifices, especially from his own heart and chest. There had been a blinding light of turquoise, flooding into them and overwhelming their vision. When it had settled down, Elsword was no longer there. Where was he? Why was he gone? He was there a moment ago and now he was gone. What happened? What was Elsword’s decision? Chung had told Elsword to go through with his choice, and that of course was right, but was it really? Was this what his fear was? That Elsword was no longer here? The discord in the Elgang was immediately noticeable. Rena was the first to react, then Eve, then Solace. Chung was the last. The Rune Slayer had been absorbed into the Giant El as a result of his decision. He was gone. Why? Solace told them that Elsword had sacrificed himself and that the ancient city of Elrianode was awakening. That didn’t matter, the city didn’t matter, but what mattered was the fact that Elsword had given himself up. It wasn’t out of pure heroism, out of the kindness of Elsword’s heart. No, Chung had a feeling he knew why Elsword sacrificed himself, and it shattered him. It became difficult to care about anything else after that. Harnier, the El Lady, had woken up from her long slumber. Someone was given up and another was given back. Aside from that, everything was static inside his mind until Rena noticed his silence. “Chung?” she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. His silent mind was buzzing anew as he looked at Rena. “I know it may be hard, but you have to stay strong. We can still save Elsword in time if we hurry.” That’s right… he thought. Solace had told them that Elsword was inside the El, not that he died. “Thanks to Elsword, the El is being restored to its original form. I, too, was able to wake up with his power. However...if the El keeps absorbing him, Elsword will eventually disappear.” In that sense, Elsword had truly sacrificed himself knowing that he might not be able to turn back on his choice. He chose to restore the El over his own life, over repeating a cycle of more sacrifices. … He will save him. Chung could feel a new resolve growing inside of his chest. He gripped the handle of his Silver shooter and pieced himself back together. It wasn’t too late to save Elsword. It wasn’t too late to find another way.

Chung told himself he would never hesitate. He would stand tall with his Silver Shooters and own resolve. His father had always told him to never wave in his own belief, that to waver in the face of changing circumstances was weak. The coldness of the air breathed down upon him, wearing his body and watching his every move. Translucent figures stood ahead, still as if encased in ice and rigidness. They were not ice and their moves were smoother than the wind, almost unnaturally so. They had formed from the power within his Guardian Stone and called out to him, trying to turn him around to return from whence he came. For some reason, he knew that was not the case and heard their discouragements. “Turn back, Seiker. We have become whole as a result of the El becoming complete. If not now, then when is the perfect time to save your father? Was that not your end goal? Did you not once swear to him that you would bring him back from the demons? So why continue? Turn back.” He had a reason to keep going. It wasn’t just because his convictions would never waver, but because he needed to bring Elsword back. This gaping hole that spread within his own chest was agonizing and he could not live life knowing that he could’ve done something. His own convictions will not stop here, it will not turn back and adapt to the ever-changing circumstance of life. That convenience was wretched. Understandable, but cowardly. Chung ventured forth, shooting his bullets through illusions of himself. Their voices went inside one ear and out the other as quick as his shooting. “Do you think he wants to be saved?” What kind of stupid question was that? Was it not obvious that Elsword required…? “No. Do you not remember? That amount of burden he felt...you felt it, too.” His bullets stopped shooting across the air, becoming stale and dissolving into nothingness. Chung couldn’t move from where he was and the Guardian Stone’s form walked towards him, in his silhouette and with no intention of attacking its bearer. The very air and its particles stopped moving, like a sheet of rain frozen mid air. The silhouette walked through the solid air, ephemeral in its form and ghostly in its essence. “You remember, don’t you? He doesn’t want to come back. Don’t you understand?”

“Chung, you’re here?” questioned Elsword, sitting by the edge of the camp. No one else was attracted to this solitary place where only the two remained, staring at the crescent moon that floated in the dark sea. The meaty smell of finished dinner roamed through the air still, but all was quiet and peaceful. Swimming across crisp air and cascading coldness, giving away to a strange sense of warmth that echoed in their bones. The Guardian sat next to the Knight, both grown and strong in their ability to stand fast. Their silence seeped through the foliage of the trees, rustling through and peering at them with blackened eyes. White dots from the lights reflected off of them, rippling still. “You’ve been a bit distant from the group,” noted Chung. “You can tell me what’s wrong.” “Thanks, but...well, there’s nothing to hide from you,” chuckled Elsword. His laugh vibrated through the air like stone skipping across water. Body movement. Head tilting down and moving elsewhere into the darkness of the canvas in front of them. “There’s no hiding the fact that I’ve finally…” Chung listened, given the serious atmosphere of the night. “Finally decided to be proud of my belly nudity!” “You what…?” Chung dropped the serious listening and stared at him with his armor clinking. “There have been many times where Aisha kept pointing out that it’s not necessary, but I will not hide the fact that I’m proud and loud!” The Guardian sighed. One part of him was relieved, but he knew for sure that there was a secret being hidden. Elsword may have a brilliant personality, yet he had flaws just like anyone else. There was a hopelessness in this. Humans change the subject when prompted with an uncomfortable topic and it was preserving at most. But it only delayed the inevitable, and the inevitable always arrived in shocking ways. Even so, he chose to chuckle at the silliness shown by his close comrade. Elsword patted Chung’s shoulder, “What? It’s nothing serious, friend, I’ll be there with everyone in a second! Go ahead and wait for me, aight?” “Alright…” The trees rustled further with leaves drooping from the lack of sunlight. He stood up to give them a last glance before taking a few steps back to the camp. “Elsword. You know you can tell me anything, right?” He did want to know what Elsword was going through without making assumptions based on observations. Hearing the truth was harsh, but nothing was worse than avoidable consequences. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Elsword, everything that preoccupied the teenager and everything he did. For some reason, the place where he was patted was tingling through the armor. Why, then, did it appear that Elsword was so alone? He waved back in response to Chung’s offer and resumed his activity. Elsword was alone and Chung understood, then, one of his insecurities. The slayer had never told anyone how he truly felt, never tried to reach out for help himself despite helping others often. How hypocritical it must’ve been yet without a doubt selfless to do. Chung didn’t like it. Why did Elsword have to sacrifice his own emotions so much for the wellbeing of others? Eventually, it led to this one moment. To this one realisation. The reason why Elsword sacrificed himself was because he wanted a third choice...and partially because he didn’t want to come back when he was rarely considered the leader. When he was always being compared. The shadow of Elesis Sieghart, his older sister, was bigger than anything else. And it swallowed him whole.

“It would be selfish of you to undo his actions. The El is complete and so is your power. This is the chance to save your father, more than ever.” “Selfish, you say?” Chung gritted his teeth, gripping onto his Silver Shooter as he pointed it towards the ghostly figure. “It’ll be selfish for me to change my faith just because of changing situations! Elsword has always been saving others, putting people before himself! It would be selfish of me to leave him to die as his friend!” He pulled the trigger, blasting forth a deadly bullet exploding from its chamber. It pierced through the figure, which disappeared from Chung’s view. As if from behind, the Guardian Stone’s voice walked on by, “If you’re doing this, you best stay true to your heart. If your convictions will not waver as Helputt has taught you, you best stay brave to the unspeakable.” The guardian clad in a blue scarf and his white and black freiturnier, ran forward with his Destroyer on the back. He ran like a man with an ironic weight on his shoulders, feeling resolute in his choice. To save someone who doesn’t want to be saved was difficult. You carried the possibility of ruining what little pride they had left, humiliating them from their sacrifice and bringing them back to a world of pain. That was a possibility, yet it was one Chung would risk to bring back someone he cared about. It was because of Elsword that he gathered the resolution to save his father and put back together the broken shards of his life. Each glittering a sadness of regret and despite this, Elsword helped him glue back the pieces. Fragile work, it was, but it was work and it helped him stand back on his feet. For that, he was grateful and even more than that. He wouldn’t let Elsword die like this. With all the things Elsword had accomplished and led, his life was more than just something to throw away. It was a life Chung desperately held onto. Everyone was there, in the center of the El, yelling out for their leader. Chung couldn’t say it right at this instant, but his voice rung out pure emotion than usual. “Elsword, the El Search Party’s mission is not yet complete! Please come back!” No one else had noticed it, but the magician had sensed it. Aisha looked at the guardian, shouting out as loud as he could and possibly would. She had a feeling it was more than just a desire to get Elsword back. She couldn’t point fingers, not now. There was a tug at her heart and in one moment, she could see beyond Chung’s act that he held up.

“What is it, Aisha?” he asked as they moved to an isolated area. The sound of the others could be heard, chattering and sounding jumbled. They wouldn’t be able to make out what Aisha and Chung would say from that distance. He waited for her to say something and found that she was staring only at him, eyes trained on him which made him uneasy in some way. Yet there was a sense of urgency in her purple eyes. The purplette with her revealing outfit and twin ponytails was not usually without Angkor. The bat was off somewhere, supposed Chung. It was just the both of them, alone and standing upon the stone grounds. “I love Elsword.” Those were the three words she said. She did have a planned talk before this, but in the moment she was in, it felt like those were the only words she needed to say for Chung to understand. It was a confession, but it was not a command. It was not her way of saying that Chung had no chance because she knew she couldn’t stop the guardian. Her confession was more of a declaration of resolve. There was no tightness in her tone, no spite or hate for the friend that was close to her love interest. Her nature did not lie in psychopathic tendencies, the intricacy tied to mental instability. He wondered what to say. What was there to say? Should he, too, declare his resolve in front of Aisha? Chung remembered the earlier times of the El Search Party, when he had once called Aisha ‘Big Sister’. She was just like that. A big sister that liked magic and was willing to do everything to take her former power back. Now, they were on equal terms. Equal enough to see each other as people with their own emotions and complicated inner workings. Clink went his armor as he looked up to her. Need he say that he loved Elsword? Aisha wouldn’t have told him if he wasn’t, otherwise. Not with this timing and place, alone and near the end. Instead, he smiled and it was as if his heart had decided on its objective. A sturdy strength that kept him standing. He spoke with confidence and knowingly, “I know.” Relieved that her assumption was true, she let out a sigh empty of sadness, “We both fell in love with an idiot, haven’t we?” To that, he had to agree, “Yeah, we have.” It didn’t feel like a rivalry, not an unhealthy one or one made out of jealousy. They were going to walk forward on the pathway that laid so brittle and uncertain. What Aisha hadn’t told Chung was that she was sure she wasn’t going to win Elsword’s affection, if he held any. She wasn’t as close to him as Chung was, but then that may be his downfall. She had heard of confessions that have ended in denial, yet of half-assed acceptance. Her resignation hoped that Chung attained what he wanted. If it didn’t succeed, they would at least have each other to console and continue living on for their own sake.

A glob of blood was spat onto the ground. He pulled the trigger, shooting metallic bullets that sliced forth from their barrels. Bullet casings splatter onto the ground like raindrops, echoing through the air and deafened by the sound of explosive attacks. The monsters twisted up into the air, sliding eerily onto platforms before eyeing their arrival. There were voices. Voices again. They came to him in silence before the storm, vibrating through the air particles in echoing tones. They knew he was here and they knew what he came for. Harsh, bitter words striked down on him from above, but they only strengthened his resolve to go forward. Suddenly, each of them were alone in the final battle inside the sanctuary. Chung was prepared for everything at this point and he could feel his power becoming stronger. The Chrysalis appeared before him, having opened a rift that distorted the sanctuary in the first place. All of the voices had stopped, then, peering at him from the distance as he knew they were there. He couldn’t see Elsword anymore, but his resolve stayed strong. The slayer was surely fighting his own battles now and Chung needed to remain adamant in his stance. “I will not falter,” he said, but to no one in particular. The battle was hard won and the Chrysalis was defeated before re-entering the Void, leaving a tired Chung behind. He took another swig of a health potion, trying to re-energize himself in case something else happened. Footsteps could be heard striding across the cracked grounds of the sanctuary, tilting Chung’s head up to a familiar white figure. There was something different in the way the figure held itself and its form was noticeably different, taller somewhat and proud. “You’ve arrived.” Its words resounded, calling for resolve. “I knew it, you’re…” “Determination is your greatest strength. Without it, you are but a candle standing in front of a howling wind.” It raised its head. “Prove to me you are worthy. Show me not only your strength, but your will to cut through insecurity!”

“You are capable of wielding this power…” said the figure. It walked towards the fatigued guardian and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking down at him, “You must go now. To him. Even if things might not end well as you hope it will, do not falter where others would cower. You’ve earned this more than enough.” Chung breathed in the air once more, and it was strange how it tasted like something new. It was sharp with a tinge of a new environment, but it was not like he was in another place altogether. The smell signified his growth of a newer power, unraveling a means to stand by someone’s side. He wished that side to be Elsword’s. Gritting his teeth, he noticed that fear of failure clung to him like a cloak. The El Search Party’s leader was unaware of many emotions his comrades held towards him--well, a couple of them anyway. There was admiration and trust shared amongst the party. With the exception of a few. He stood up tall with a couple injuries bleeding out. A bottle of red liquid was pulled out with the lid twisted off and held in between fingers, before it was tipped to a mouth and emptied readily fast. Liquid health cascaded down his throat, tasting strange and sweet. However, the scent of it was bitter and made for the strangeness of said liquid. Once the bottle was finished, he twisted on the cap and towed it away for future refilling. Feeling invigorated, he set about exploring the place for any other entrances than the one he entered in. When he saw that there was nowhere else, he returned to the previous cavernous room. The heaviness of his armor was forgotten when he walked on in, seeing Raven and Ara sitting somewhere. They noticed him coming back from the battleground and waved at him. Chung noticed that they felt stronger somewhat, just like him. “Is Elsword back yet?” “He is,” answered Raven. “Aisha wanted to go tell him something so he’s alone with her.” “Miss Aisha looked very nervous,” said Ara. “I think she’s going to confess to him!” “She sure did look like it.” Rena was walking towards them as well. “It’s about time she worked up the courage, and perfect timing, too~” Chung didn’t say anything and his silence was noted by Rena. Without saying a thing, she went towards Raven and Ara to sit beside them as Chung waited. The surroundings echoed in quietness, tingling through the air with its gloomy appearance. Darkness covered the backgrounds around them with the absence of corrupted monsters, or were they simply Henir’s monsters to begin with? They didn’t know about this place until Hennon was defeated with their previous strength. Nonetheless, Chung wasn’t paying attention to any of these details and simply thought about Elsword. If what Rena said was true, Aisha was the first to confess to Elsword. It made him nervous once more and almost jealous in a way. Not in a vicious way as described in romantic novels, but in a friendly manner that Chung wasn’t the first to confess to him. There were no voices telling him that Aisha might succeed in winning Elsword’s affections. He wished her good luck with it instead. In several minutes, Chung spotted the magician returning with Elsword in tow. Her expression gave away nothing when she saw the El Search Party returning, but when she glanced at Chung, there was a soft smile that told him something. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but later he would know. Elsword looked confused. He’s grown stronger, acknowledged Chung. I knew he would. There was the concern that he would bombard Elsword with two confessions in one day and the timing was becoming too old to continue with. Yet, it was still the matter of ‘now, or never’. The slayer looked at Chung, approaching him instead of the others. His heart skipped a small beat and an apprehensive emotion flooded inside of him. Even though Elsword’s gaze returned to Aisha as he walked towards him, he was thinking about how he should confess his feelings. It was, without a doubt, something courageous and required thinking and overthinking once more. Love was a strange thing, but it could be explained by the characterisation of hormones flooding the body and thoughts wafting through the mind. “That was weird,” said Elsword as he came close. “Let’s go talk over there.” He pointed towards a ledge that could be sat upon. Chung knew what had happened, but he still found himself asking, “So what did Aisha want to talk to you about?” They were just out of earshot as the other members understood somewhat. “She confessed to me,” he said, spiral eyed. “Or, at least, I think she did. I don’t know.” “Did she say she loves you?” “Yeah. It’s kinda a blur, haha. I think she meant that she liked me as a friend.” This. He understood what was difficult about confessions to Elsword. The Leader wasn’t aware of what love was, what sex was, what hormones raged in the body and attracted one to another. Maybe it was due to Elsword’s lack of exposure to these sort of things and engaging in countless battles against hatred and demons. It was frustrating. Aisha was serious when she wanted to confess to Elsword, but the reason why it was blown away was because Elsword didn’t believe in her. Chung swallowed. This was what would be called, ‘helping the enemy’, but Aisha wasn’t one. “What makes you say that?” “Well, I like her, too? As a friend, I guess? She may scold me from time to time, but she’s a really nice friend to have.” “So you compared her feelings to your own and disregarded her confession.” “No, that’s not what I…” Elsword sighed. “Does she really feel that way towards me?” He knew that Elsword, in a way, liked to avoid the truth and his own emotions. Liked to make jokes when things got awkward, ran away when things got hot. It was ironic. Despite being a master of runes now, he liked to grapple his way out of situations that would require things he never knew about. Facing the unknown was scary and Chung knew that. To face a world without his father, to face a world without the sea by his side, it was all unknown. Back then, he attempted to change his way of thinking. Change was inevitable. It came for everyone and it could launch someone’s world upside down like it did to him. All they could do, was go through it together. He wanted to do that with Elsword, but all this time, he had hesitated for so long. “She does,” answered Chung. He thought, then, it was too late to confess for now. He pocketed his words as he waited for Elsword to start talking again. “I don’t know what to do about that, haha...I’d have an easier time dealing with if she wanted to put glitters in my eyes,” he joked once more. Chung only gave him a serious look as if saying any more jokes would be bad. “I don’t know if I want to say yes, but I don’t know if I want to say no. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.” “You’d hurt her feelings more if you did say yes, but didn’t mean it,” he said. “You’d continue along a committed relationship without returning her feelings. That’s harder than saying no.” “I suppose you’re right. It’s not like I know too much about love, or anything like that.” He sighed. “Hell, I’d have an easier time believing if you confessed.” It skipped. Chung returned his gaze to the ground, almost as if he was gripping onto the pocketed words. He strained to keep them there. This was a mixed signal, a few words said by Elsword that weren’t meant to be serious. Yet, he knew he wanted them to mean something. The soon-to-be-known phantom wished he could disappear from the world, riding along the currents of “I know this is wrong”. Even so… Even so…! “What would you do if that was a thing?” “Eh? Uh...well, if you actually liked me, then uh…” Elsword rubbed the back of his head, caught in a web of confusion and complicated feelings. Feelings that were nervous and stretching the limits just a bit too far. “This is an ‘if’, a...hypothesis like Add says sometimes...if you did, I guess I’d be more curious about it? Like what’s there to like about me, or what one does in a situation like that. I don’t know if I would be able to deal with something like that, haha…” Chung rested his elbow on his legs and his chin upon his hands. “Well, deal with it, because it’s true.” … … …

He said it, didn’t he? The moron named Chung Seiker just said it, didn’t he? The future Fatal Phantom opened his mouth and said it, didn’t he? The young adult had fucked up and he knew it. If it was a fuck up, he would know it for real soon. He could feel the stare turning to him before it went elsewhere, before it zoomed in on him like a gawk--no, it was a gawking. Summoning non-existent courage, Chung turned his gaze to Elsword next to him without moving his head. The former Slayer sat there with face gawking open, position ajar and the incoming El Search Party unknown. “Wait, true...wait, what’s true? Huh?” Chung sighed, scratched his head repeatedly and stood up in a quick manner. “Figure it out yourself,” he said bluntly before turning away, his cheeks flushed and warm. He looked to the side into the darkness of the Sanctum. The El Search Party didn’t hear what was going on, but they were close enough now to hear. “Wait, wait, wait, don’t just walk away like that!” called out Elsword who rushed up to Chung and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Y-you actually like me?!” Oh, El, fuck no. Why does he have to be like this? Thought Chung frantically. “Ehhh?!” went Ara. “Hoho...oh, I see what’s going on now,” said Rena. Aisha just did a thumbs up to Chung who looked like he was done with the world. He turned around as prompted to and didn’t expect to see the red-head glowing bright with pinkish red. “W-w-well, uh, Chung,” began Elsword who stood straight, turned an apologetic glance to Aisha who just said, “Tell him what I told you.” Huh? “Aisha told me I would understand soon enough, so she told me after she...confessed, that someone else liked me also. Not for the longest time like she did, not for the battles alongside me like she did...but she told me it was someone I least expected it to be.” Chung had no idea what was going on at this point. “I asked Rena for advice about something once, but I didn’t think it would be this important. I told her that I kept thinking and watched someone a lot, and she told me that I was possibly ‘pining’ as she says it. So, I think it’s probably safe for me to say...Chung Seiker, I think I like you, too!” The whole Party--well, almost all of them--erupted in a cheer that Chung felt like had been planned. If it was, they would have someone to answer to. Someone ultimately confused. Someone ultimately needing some answers. And someone, ultimately in love.

Inochi wa Kiwareteiru (English Version Lyrics Below)

(If any english-singing utaite wants to use these lyrics, please credit u wu. Above video belongs to Mafumafu o vo b)

Please do not say you want to hang yourself, Please continue to live without fading, How ludicrous it is to sing those songs with flawless lyrics,

In truth, I wouldn't be sorry if I had died, but I'd be sad if those around me did, "Because I just wouldn't like it," that seems really egostistic,

Not giving a single damn if strangers live or die, And hating someone else appears to be in fashion now, Even so, 'live on peacefully' nonetheless? What a wondrous thing that would be...

On the other side of the computer screen, someone dies, Regretting the fact that someone else is singing, Influenced by that, and so that young boy ran off, Carrying a knife in red!

Everyone is detested by life itself! We're pushing values and ego, always just, so we serenade to kill others we don't like, and send those songs across the radio waves! Everyone is detested by life itself! We who thoughtlessly want to jump off a cliff, And look at our own simple lives carelessly, and so we are detested by life itself!

I don't have a single dollar or dime left, so I sing songs of praises to poking around, Without grasping onto what it means to live, I come to a point that it's useless and breathe, Are these painful red wounds right to be expressed with such common words like, "I'm lonely"? I have nothing to my name but obstinance, today once more I sleep alone,

We who were but simple-minded youths, at some point start to grow up into adults, Growing old, one day, we'll rot away just like brown leaves and no one would be the wiser, right? What if we obtained an immortal body, and lived our whole reality without dying? I'm just being fooled about SF cases,

I wouldn't be so sorry if I had killed myself, Even so, I'm wanted alive by the people around me, Living on with that complex conflict...I think I will get yelled at,

Beliefs that are righteous should just stay in the right, If you don't want to die, then please just live on, If you're going to end up sad, and if that's fine with you, Then you gotta laugh alone forever,

Everyone is detested by life itself! Without even grasping the meaning of happiness, we detest the hand life has dealt us, and so we merely curse our own pasts, Everyone is detested by life itself! We who love the word 'goodbye' a little too much, not knowing the meaning of true farewells, and so we are detested by life itself,

Prosperity, salutations, affections, and friendships, These are the jokes made by comical dreams...which are just goods brought by money,

Tomorrow I might just put an end to my own life, you know? Everything just might end up being for naught, Mornings and evenings, spring and autumn, Unchanging, someone dies somewhere far off, I don't need a dream or the next day after, If you will have lived on, then that's all I really need, That's right...that's actually what I want to sing about right now,

Everyone is detested by life itself, In the end, we're all going to end up fading away, Even you will, even I will, one day all of us will rot away like fallen leaves, But regardless, we just keep living on madly-- Shouldering our lives, desperately, we live on-- Killing another, struggling hard, die laughing, bearing it all, Live on, live on, live on, live on, just live on!

#vocaloid #utaite #hated by life #inochi wa kiwareteiru #song #lyrics #english version #english #mafumafu #you can sing along to this #in english #have fun #pls credit #self-harm #suicide #depression

Tag thythelf

#tag yourself #tag #me #this all o me #picking 1 2 3 #i hate myself #discord #three shit

Dedicated to https://seulpeun--sonyeo.tumblr.com/ A Request from Nem.

Tools used: SAI HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-finally done.

#elsword #code:nemesis #diabolic esper #code: nemesis #eve #add #addeve #request #friend's request #done #marriage pairing #bridal #groom #patternwork flowers #nem #desolatedchronos

desolatedchronos-blog

Invisible Compound |||

Pairing: TriAdd (if you peek closely?) WC: 3,005 Rating: T (may trigger) Note: 3rd in the Invisible Series. ‘^’

“I love mankind – it’s people I can’t stand.” – Charles M. Schluz.

Keep reading

desolatedchronos-blog

REBAGGING-

#add #elsword #triadd #lunatic psyker #mastermind #diabolic esper #mental illness #ptsd #anxiety #selective mutism #post traumatic stress disorder #quotes #depression #fanfiction

desolatedchronos-blog

Invisible Lull ||

Pairing: Slight MMDiE (future pairing: Triadd) WC: 3,004 Rating: T (may trigger) Note: Because almost all these illnesses are associated with anxiety and stress, ya see?

“The problem with having problems is that ‘someone’ always has it worse.” – Tiffany Madison.

Keep reading

desolatedchronos-blog

Reblogging in hopes of continuing this series.

#triadd #elsword #add #lunatic psyker #mastermind #diabolic esper #mental illness #ptsd #anxiety #post traumatic stress disorder #selective mutism #mmde #slight #trigger #edit doesn't exist #what are you talking about that there is an edit option?

desolatedchronos-blog

Invisible Enemies

Pairing: No pairing yet (future pairing: Triadd) WC: 868 Rating: T Note: Watch me bring these adorable lovelies together, watch.

“Our anxiety does not come from thinking about the future, but from wanting to control it.” – Kahlil Gibran.

Keep reading

desolatedchronos-blog

Reblogging because I might ...continue this series.

#add #elsword #triadd #quotes #anxiety #ptsd #selective mutism #lunatic psyker #mastermind #diabolic esper #mental illnesses #mental illness #single but ready to mingle #shoot self #what is editing

Incompetence

Word Count: 978 Pairing: None in particular About: Arme trying to ‘cure’ Apostasia. Erbluhen’s method ends up working and Arme breaks down =w=

He had brought the corrupted Celestial to many places, and to many places, did his objective fail. The shrine seemed so dauntingly quiet with its overstretching walls and symbolic structures. Here, Arme could feel the holiness behind them. They emanated the cold power of his Goddess and he could feel at ease here, but that didn’t matter. Apostasia sat, at a distance, next to him with a blank expression. “So, do you feel anything?” he questioned. Apostasia turned his head, his swirling eyes betraying nothing. “Like I said before, Ishmael does not answer me,” responded Apostasia. Arme sighed, knowing somewhat that this would be the result. He did not expect to have to go this far. There were a few shrines where he tried blessing Apostasia, which either did nothing, or produced a painful response. It elicited no response. He thought to himself about what to do next, where to go on from here. At this rate, he was only giving Apostasia discomfort and pain. “Alright, we’ll go to the next shrine-” he started before the doors to the shrine opened. “Oh, there you are, Sia~!” rung out a cheery voice. Arme sighed again, thinking to himself, the annoying Celestial is here again. He turned around to say something, but saw Apostasia making his way to the cheery Celestial. “I haven't seen you in a long time, Sia~!” “It's only been a couple days,” he responded emotionlessly. “It’s been a couple days too long.” The Celestial had complained with a pouty face. “So, how’ve you been?” Apostasia responded with a tired tone, “Been dragged around to many shrines…” “You’re tired, then.” He nodded, the daunting silence of the shrine didn't seem so suffocating. Arme didn’t know how Erbluhen found them, but it would get in the way of his methods. Erbluhen had a tired face, looking relieved to have found Apostasia in time. He had no idea what Arme was planning on doing, bringing the corrupted Celestial to many holy places. Apostasia only got tired and worse with these attempts. Sighing, the Celestial walked over to Arme who stood up from his seat. “Are you trying to cure Apostasia again?” asked Erbluhen, his tone signifying a lecture. “I am,” he answered. “It’ll make him feel better if he was purged of Henir’s influence.” “How many times have I got to tell you, Arme? That’s not going to work.” Arme had an idea that this would happen. It was impossible to change someone’s mind, to change their core belief when it had gotten twisted to an insurmountable degree. Even so, Arme thought he’d try to at least ease the corrupted Celestial’s concerns. It had to be done this way, right? Goddess Ishmael would certainly guide Apostasia...if she’d ever replied at all to him. “Arme...the harsh truth is that Ishmael will not respond to Sia,” said Erbluhen. How Erbluhen managed to stay cheerful despite Apostasia’s condition never ceased to surprise Arme. “You cannot keep doing this to Sia. You have to understand that not everything can be ‘cured’, or done right by Goddess Ishmael’s power.”

But how could he understand? Arme was created by Ishmael’s hand, created for one sole purpose and that was to restore the El to its rightful state. He believed in Her raw power to expunge corruption and anything related to Henir’s influence. This did not mean that he wanted to eradicate Apostasia--although, it had crossed his mind before--but he wanted to alleviate his pain. All of Arme’s answers came from Ishmael. Her freezing, yet sacred power managed to ease every single one of his worries. She would answer him from time to time with her godly words, and he wouldn’t object. After all, he was Goddess Ishmael’s holy Celestial. It was his duty also to expunge any evil from this world--mainly, demons. He thought deeply now, his understanding whirling and swirling around each other like water. Cold and wintry, but crystal clear were his speculations. If bringing Apostasia to shrines didn’t work, what about other methods? Would they work? Or would he end up with the same result? Arme was starting to understand the futility of his actions. There actually wasn’t much to go on with. He had exhausted all his options of having Ishmael communicate with Apostasia, yet none of them worked. Was it really true? Did Ishmael really abandon one of her Celestials? And for what exactly? Was it because he spent 500 years in the Void? Was it because he got corrupted in the Shadow Forest when it wasn’t even his own fault? Was it because he was desperate and was weak? Was it because Apostasia wasn’t needed? That made him afraid. No, that couldn’t be, right? Goddess Ishmael was merciful, divine and powerful. She could just as easily cure Apostasia of his corrupted nature and bring him back to normal. She wouldn’t just abandon him for something Apostasia couldn’t control, right? Or was that what happened? Arme found that he couldn’t think clearly, the holy nature of the shrine was evading him quickly, and he collapsed onto his knees. Dizzy spots of black flickered onto his vision and he realised how alone he was. Erbluhen already went away with Apostasia, leaving Arme with his thoughts. His thoughts that were so clear and methodical were now spiraling into one big mess. Was he breathing right? No, his breaths were going out, out and out. He then realised that Ishmael’s cold power…really didn’t have all the answers. She did abandon Apostasia for his weakness. And if he was weak, too? If he messed up? What would happen then? Would his worst fears come to life like the demons crawling from their god-forsaken cracks? Like cockroaches scattering about, a heavy dark mess of filth? “No, she couldn’t...she wouldn’t…” he said, growing louder and forceful. “She wouldn’t really…?” A seed of doubt started to grow.

#my writing #elsword #arme thaumaturgy #apostasia #erbluhen emotion #doubt #crappy writing #so crap #trashing self in tags #ain #angst?#lots of questions #so many #kms

“에브루헨을그리는 모든분들 아이트로 고통받지마시라고 소스만들어왔씁니다 상업적이용만 아니라면 자유롭게사용 ok예요~~! https://t.co/rJcaBCzH1A”

DISCLAIMER: Doesn’t belong to me, shared from twitter.

#picture #reblogging #twitter #elsword #ain #ebruhen emotion #mochi #eids #edel eids #doesn't belong to me

sunflowercocoa

okay so in psychology years ago we learnt that it’s common for companies to put women in charge when there’s a predicted downfall so that they could be all ha see women suck at being in charge. and I just find it interesting how the UK is gonna have a female PM right after Brexit so like years from now people are gonna be like “the country saw some of its worst years under a woman” when it was men that fucked it up and then ran

confide--nemini

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glass_cliff

dynastylnoire

Glass cliff Holy shit

hikeylowkey-deactivated20250518

Holy shit

p0tat0s

General Motors

#so this exists #psychology #glass cliff #pm #global #politics

sarahconnorjr

Deadpool and the suicide prevention PSA

Hopefully everyone has gotten a chance to get a copy of Deadpool (2015-) #20 by now.

Obviously, trigger warnings for suicide

So, Deadpool #20 is a standalone issue that specifically targets the issue of suicide and we’re going to jump right to the ending to start off with: the writer’s, Gerry Duggan, message

I don’t actually think it’s outlandish to try to do a helpful story about suicide prevention with Deadpool as the protagonist. Like Duggan said, it wouldn’t be the easiest story to write, but it makes sense in an odd way. Deadpool is probably the most suicidal character ever if only because he is immortal and yet is constantly trying to kill himself and lets people murder him when it’s easier than fighting.

It’s also coincidentally the right time for this type of story with this type of character.

If this story came out in the 90s when Deadpool first debuted I don’t think it would be well received. The bro fans would complain about it being an afterschool special and people in general with think it’s in bad taste for character like Deadpool to be in a PSA like this, that’s Superman’s job (which we’ll get to in a second)

That was a Generation X audience; very disenfranchised, cynical and very angry about it.

This is a millennial audience, very disenfranchised, cynical and resigned to it all.

It’s an unarguable fact that the Baby Boomers are the worst generation ever and so when Generation X came along and got the shit end of their decadence and eventual complacency about civil rights they were understandably angry. Even grunge was pretty angry; you would sing with melancholy “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me” but this was underlined by rebellion. It was the clapback to the failed “give peace a chance”

Fuck you and your bigoted warmongering capitalism. I’m out, I’m done so why don’t you kill me?

Generation X is the exhausted end of this anger and is clearly exhibited by meme culture. Fuck you, everything’s a joke, how the hell are we can it dig ourselves out of this pit? Might as well kill myself ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anger and aggression has become the joke. Celebrities are reading “mean comments” on Jimmy Kimmel that say things like “fight me, you piece of shit” and don’t understand that that means “I’m a really big fan of yours and am probably sexually attracted to you”

So why is a character created out of this angry high adrenaline culture the best one to speak to an exasperated culture that mocks angry high adrenaline?

Because he isn’t condescending.

You want to kill yourself? So does everybody else but there’s a lot of stuff on Netflix we still need to get to so let’s try to make the best of it.

Deadpool isn’t a happy person telling sad people to cheer up.

Arguably the most popular/cited superhero comic about suicide prevention was made for Generation X audience in 2006’s All-Star Superman #10

It was effective for a lot of people and pleasantly regarded by the general public but some people didn’t like it.

I’m obviously arguing that if this were to come out now the majority of people wouldn’t like it.

This girl is a complete stereotype. She could easily be the poster girl for the “rebellious” trope.

You can totally tell she’s depressed because look how dark her clothes are.

And then Superman comes along knowing fuck all about her giving her a shallow complement based on absolutely nothing and then hugs her.

He tells her it’s not that bad.

It is bad.

Things are really bad.

I think Deadpool #20 is better even if it only conveys camaraderie in the badness.

The cover alone conveys that

Deadpool sees a girl, conventionally attractive but within ordinary aesthetic, about to jump to her death

He jokes about it in a very deadpan and abysmal millennial way. Much like Superman, Deadpool knows nothing about this girl but he doesn’t condescend to her

He’s not the right guy for the job

He doesn’t know her or have any stake in her well-being

He doesn’t belittle her decision but implores her to give it a little time

What does Deadpool know best? Showtunes and beating people up so he does what he knows best and the distraction gives her the ability to feel and just do something, anything

Then what? He still doesn’t know what the right thing to do or say is. There is no right thing to do or say. He gives for the resources to talk to people that have at least been trying to figure out the best way to help in this situation longer than he has

He doesn’t force her to use these resources and he offers to go with her as an equal

As a few people pointed out, going into inpatient care is not fun, nor is any other option. The problems are numerous and frightening but we have to make do until we can build better systems, but that’s not really the point of the comic. It’s how to handle these things in the current system and when you have no idea what to do. Whether it was because the Deadpool team got consultants on the issue of whether they lucked into it I believe they nailed it.

It’s not an comic that will prevent someone from committing suicide, in my opinion, but it’s an comic that will help people know how to better react to their loved ones who are suicidal.

We’ve discussed suicide extensively on this blog from many angles and the consensus has always been that what helps is when people don’t condescend to you, don’t just tell you to feel better, don’t invalidate your right to do what you want with your body. What helps is being there, as an equal, to consider the decision further.

You may want to kill yourself and you have the right to do that but remember that you don’t have to do it right now. You will still have the option tomorrow or the day after. It is a huge and final decision and you need to consider it as clearheaded as possible. Do something fun or mundane and just distracting to get you through the next few minutes or hours and then explore all your options.

A suicide hotline might not work for you, nor will a hospital but they are options that are not permanent. You can try them. If suicide is really the right decision for you it will still be an option after you explore these avenues.

Remember, you can always make the decision tomorrow. Give today a chance.

tempest2004

The one panel this leaves out is it’s revealed that Deadpool’s been texting the Emergency Room people all night. They know about her situation and they know DP’s trying to help her.

This is why I love Deadpool.

#deadpool #suicide #comic #he's awesome

From the coffee shop AU @rainsonata did and a (late) happy birthday present! More like part one xD! Also if the writing is hard to see on the coffee cup, it’s Adel (direct reference xD)