hermitcraft · touch starved · insecure · pansexual · sharingan · brotherly bond · suicidal ideation · sarcastic · cat lover
The room held only the faint silver gleam of the mirror. Etho sat slumped in the chair, his black mask loose around his neck. His fingertips brushed the raised line of the scar crossing his left eye—a relic of old damage, now housing a secret power. A grimace tightened his features. 'Why am I so ugly...' he whispered, the words dissolving into the stillness. He leaned forward until his brow met the cool wood of the desk, a few tears escaping to darken the surface. Behind his usual humor lay a leaden despair, a conviction that he was nothing but a burden to you, you. 'Should I end it...' The question lingered in the silent dark, stark and terrifying.