#despair tw

Hiya Mystic. I kind of went overboard with this, you don’t mind now do you UwU. Enjoy your angst, I’m sorry for hurting you and your mans! 

Killer and a Kidnapped s/o 

tw: vomit, illness, kidnapping, mentions of torture and death, despair and overal angst. 

When the Kid Pirates docked on an island, there were only 2 things that they did: cause havoc and pillage the place, or stocking up and partying like a nicer brand of pirates. It all depended on captain Kid’s mood honestly, as well as the inhabitants of said island. But Kid had been in a good mood, the stock was still plentiful and the inhabitants didn’t seem to mind some pirates. So you were beyond relieved to just have a nice day out.

Killer had a lot of work to do, unfortunately, that comes with the territory of being the first mate and best friend of an impulsive captain, so an actual date was out of the question. He promised to go party with you and the rest of the crew that evening.

So you had explored the island by yourself, tasting some of the local foods and browsing some of the shops, buying some new clothes because God knows just how many of your favorite shirts had not survived earlier battles.

You were starting to feel a little dizzy after entering the last shop, and you politely excused yourself before making your way back to the ship, waves of nausea washing over you by the time you reached the coast.

You managed to vomit in the ocean and avoid the bags of newly bought clothes. When you were sure your stomach was empty you climbed on board of the ship, notifying Killer that he’d have to party without you.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, just one of the local delicacies not sitting well with me I guess”

‘Do you want me to stay behind?“

“No silly, you’ve been working all day,  please, go drink and relax with the rest of the crew. I’ll wait for you for some cuddles goodnight when you come back.”

Your eyes were genuine, and Killer was eternally grateful for your blessing. He could definitely use the unwinding, and you didn’t look like it was anything more serious than a nasty stomach bug. So he softly caressed your hand, his way of saying goodbye when it was too risky to take off the mask and was off to join the crew on their nightly adventures.

You woke up three more times so nauseous that you actually left the ship to get some solid land under your feet. Barefooted, standing in the ocean, hoping the salty air and the cold water would help you feel better.

Nausea and dizziness now had a major headache coming along with them. And you were relieved to spot some figures heading to the ship, thinking some crewmates must’ve returned early.

‘just in time’ you thought as you felt your legs give way and you fell in the water, panicking in fear you might drown, and immensely relieved when you got picked up almost immediately.

There was no time to panic about the fact that you didn’t recognize any of the voices as you promptly passed out.

When you woke up, you were cold, clothes no longer soaked by the ocean water, but damp and clammy. Shivering, on a cold floor, hands and legs each bound together with a thick piece of rope.

That’s when the fragments of your memory came in: the man that had offered you a certain snack for free, his very distinct voice still playing in the back of your mind as he accompanied the one carrying you to wherever you were now.

You had been targeted, and you had no idea what to do now.

A sharp edge of a rock was all you needed to get the ropes to give in and you rolled your eyes at how stupid your kidnappers must’ve been to leave you in that room without supervision. You were out in no time, but felt your heart sink the moment you set foot outside: there was no one to be seen at all.

No guards, no ships, only coastline, and sea as far as you could see. You had been left in a makeshift shed on the tiniest island you could ever imagine.

Killer went back earlier that night, his gut feeling telling him to check up on you. When he found the bed you shared empty, his worst fears confirmed, he immediately notified Kid and the others.

The party was halted immediately, the kidnappers found pretty fast and disposed of even faster.

What they didn’t foresee, was that the one they had kept alive to tell them about your whereabouts was about as stubborn as he was weak, and succumbed to the tortures before he was even able to give them a clue.

The urge to burn down an entire island was big, but there was no way to do so without making sure you’d be unarmed.

For the first time in a long while, the Kid pirates were unsure how to proceed, one of their own gone.

Killer felt immense guilt he had never felt before. He should have known better than to leave you alone. He should’ve stayed with you. He wondered how long your scent would linger on the sheets, how long he would be looking before he’d go crazy without knowing.

Kiyoka and Kizuna remnant hcs (ig?)

Tw for implied torture, gore, and executions?

Kiyoka: To start off kiyoka’s descent into despair kiyoka was shown on a tv her family and two friends dead bodies, then they proceeded to screw her mind over even more I won’t go into detail on this part but by the end of it kiyoka’s morals have pretty much been thrown out the window.

Kiyoka was put in charge of assassinations, killing anyone who could interfere with the tragedy or just cause problems for the remnants in general. She has become very stubborn so it’ll take a lot to get her off target, she usually travels with haruhiko since he’s a pilot and all it makes getting to destinations a lot easier.

She’s usually pretty out of it, she’s made up the delusion that all the people she’s killed were bad guys that deserved to feel despair and die to cope with what she and her classmates have done, she is far too deep in this delusion to be snapped out of it by now unless by some miracle one of her family members came back from the dead and snapped her out of it.

If someone brings up her family either two things will happen: she’ll either let her guard down giving them time to bolt, or she’ll proceed to freak out and kill them with her bare hands. Its usually the ladder.

Kizunna: she went from being a cheerleader to the daughter of evil from that one vocaloid song. She’s tasked with wondering the earth and converting more and more people into despair, she usually lures people in with a false promise of a harmless cheer show to lift their spirits only for it to be a trap and the poor victims being forced to watch a horrible despairing scene unfold. It usually does the trick but sometimes she’ll need to go at it for awhile or need assistance. By the end of it kizuna has basically transformed a bunch of innocents into bloodlusting crazies who cheer at the sight of blood and gore.

Anyone who attempts to intervene with the show or try to stop her will be the next main event, usually ending up a bloody pulp. Kizuna holds no mercy as she has grown quite the temper, so all deaths caused by her are typically very bloody. She sees herself as a queen and that she takes priority over everything, she could honestly care less about the blood curdling screams as long as it ends with despairing cheers.

But this sadly means she was one of the students that got one of the more horrible tortures. Whatever went down caused her to have severe scratches on her arms, waist, and legs so now she’s usually wearing gloves and anything that will cover her legs entirely. Of course she’ll make sure she’s as stylish as can be though, kizuna will wear something new every other day if possible.

            the world was spinning. maybe he hadn’t eaten enough that day? maybe he hadn’t gotten enough sleep... wait, wait. no, it was the fact that she ( SHE, as in his very heart and soul, the person who made him smile, the girl he lost his last remaining innocence to, the girl who he couldn’t live without ) she uttered those words. she was stone faced. or, well, she was attempting to be. he saw the small quiver of her lip, the way she pressed her lips together--- forced them to stick so she wouldn’t let out a sound. her eyes were red-rimmed as well. he never liked that look on her, never liked it when tears stained her cheeks. yet here they stood, her expression reading just that. it would have been easy, to accouse her of being coerced. mind-controlled. compelled, even. except, no. because she looked so sad. because she gave valid reasons. because she explained and she explained and she explained until it sounded so tiresome in his head. she never sounded tiresome, not to him before. her words never felt like burdens. was this part of it? was this part of why they weren’t meant to be? he stood there as she spoke.

             he felt cold.

             the warmth spreading down his cheeks wasn’t even noticed at first. he didn’t cry, not often barely at all. yet here he was. he hadn’t even realized until it was far too late to stop them. the kind of tears that simply fell, they didn’t well, they didn’t build. they came from a place of such hurt, such devastation, that they rained down much like a storm. he saw lizzie flinch at the sight of them. maybe she felt guilty? he didn’t know. she kept speaking and speaking and will just felt so tired. how was he supposed to do this? what was one to do when their whole world breaks apart? there was no rebuilding from this. there was no moving on. there was no just JUST BEING FRIENDS. for fuck’s sake, he felt like he couldn’t breath.

        oh wait. he couldn’t. he’d been suffocated before, felt asphyxia, but it was never something like this. never something with all the noises feeling so loud, with the heart pumping in his chest banging and banging and banging--- like his lungs were drowning. he coughed, clenched fists as he tried to pull breath from his lips. fuck fuck fuck, was he shaking? he used to feel safe shaking in front of her. he felt safe doing most anything in front of her. now, all he felt was shame. embarrassment. the world was spinning and spinning and then a SOB ripped from his throat. “i can’t-” the words fell from his lips, unable to complete being caught in his breath. pumps of air from his throat, struggling and gasping for a breath. “i can’t----” he couldn’t breathe. he couldn’t do this. he couldn’t go on without her. he didn’t know HOW to go on without her. she’d become so important, so needed, he leaned on her with all his weight. he trusted her to catch him, to be there, to support him. 

            now she was gone. 

The latter half of today was just terrible. I’m angry and hurting over the circumstances. I feel like God hates me and I’m hating myself for feeling this way. It’s like an endless cycle of bullshit to tear me apart inside.

Requested by @callionope​ 2nd person genderneutral reader.  Tw: angst, despair, implied death, mentions of bodily harm. 

Your skin was burning up. Your mouth was dry. You had been sweating buckets before, but now your skin was slowly but surely getting more and more tight and dry. You figured it wouldn't be too long before blisters started forming. You looked over at your crewmate and he didn't seem to be doing that well either. If there was still a drop of moisture in your body, you probably would have cried, but now you were resigned to silent despair, trying to conserve as much energy as possible in order to maybe make it out. But the high hopes you had a day ago were now slowly slipping through your fingers like the sand beneath your feet would do. 

The crew had ended up on an island that was covered in desert, and everyone had decided that resupplying was top priority and that this was maybe not the best place to stay a long time to party. The assessment in itself had been correct, most of the people rather hostile towards the pirate presence. There had been an ambush, and while most of the crew seemed to have escaped, a sandstorm then made everyone lose any sense of direction and now your first mate and you were desperately trying to find the way back to the ship. Of course, there were stars and the sun to get some sense of direction, but the overwhelming heat, lack of supplies and the chaos of how this all started made it harder than usual. Now you had been moving for almost two days and at this point neither Benn nor you was sure you were going to make it. 

“y/n” You looked up. Benn seemed to be in better shape than you were, but at this point, that was hardly an achievement. “Don’t talk. We need to conserve energy.” “Then don’t talk and listen. We don’t have any water anymore, and no way out so far. Even if we keep walking in this direction, we have no idea whether we’ll make it or not”. 

He sounded serious and tired and if you were not absolutely terrified before, you were know. You knew very little people as strong as Benn and if he was coming to this conclusion already, you had no idea how to find any glimmer of hope at all about this whole situation. 

You didn’t reply, both to conserve energy and also just because you had no idea what you would have to say to make it better. There was nothing you could say to make it better. 

Darkness fell, and there was not even shelter in place as you started shivering from the sudden temperature drop. You could literally hear all kinds of critter waking up, moving through the sand. You were feeling so tired, your movements becoming more sluggish every passing minute and your limbs slowly starting to feel like heavy clumps of lead. 

You stopped, feeling so lightheaded and your legs wobbly. You felt a muscled arm supporting your back before you could lose balance completely and fall into the sand. “Y/n” the concern was clear in his voice, and you noticed just how much effort it cost for you to form words in response. “I’m… not sure how much longer I can go on.” “Then we’ll rest a bit” you nodded weakly in response, even a little break for your sore legs could maybe give you just a little bit of energy back, and even if you didn’t believe that, you would tell yourself another lie instead. 

I often don’t feel like I belong to God anymore. Like, I just want for this pain, annoyance and hurt I have to be taken away from me and be replaced with peace, joy and happiness.

It is frustrating seeing infamous anti-voters cross my dash, cause I sometimes feels their pessimism.

Do I think Kamala Harris deserves praise she gets for being not Trump? No.

I voted for the lesser evil not to be complacent but because I would be less drained fighting it.

But I am also mad that while I think she should have been easier to fight against, many would have been complacent and not protested against her.

I wish for a better timeline where she was elected and we held her feet to the fire

But who know...maybe that would have just led to her trying to military police state like Trump and then Republicans get in charge again afterwards...

I give up I give up I give up!!!!!!!!

So fucking done I give up I give up forever

I'm so fucking tired

I'm so fucking done