is this uncomfortable for you too

You and I, we may look the same
But we are very far apart
There's bullet holes where my compassion used to be
And there is violence in my heart
Into fire you can send us
From the fire we return
You can label us a consequence
Of how much you have to learn

You have set something in motion
Much greater than you've ever known
Standing there in all your grand naïveté
About to reap what you have sown
Time will feed upon your weaknesses
And soon you'll lose the will to care
When you return to the place that you call home
We will be there - My Violent Heart, NIN

IS IT 2005 OR SOMETHING WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING HERE

This song just came up on my playlist and I was like hey I can do somethin with this. I've been feelin sort of nostalgic for these two lately for some reason, it's weird. It's really been a while, hasn't it?
Actually used some references from posemaniacs for once, haha. Set (?) during or depicting their mental breakdown in Audience, or something. WHEN THE TWO OF THEM ARE GOING CRAZY BASICALLY Edgar seems to be taking whatever's going on fairly well, considering. JUST WAKE ME WHEN IT'S OVER OKAY
Scriabin less happy to settle down as usual. barbed wire??
lazyish background i know, whatevs

This picture must seem completely random and bizarre if you haven't been following me that long or haven't read Vargas, haha. The best summary for Vargas is tl;dr but I did some stupid stickfigure recaps here as well, although I'm behind a chapter (the chapter this is about, even). I can't believe how long this fic has been ongoing, jesus. i go back and reread older chapters and it's like aaaugh


Did this entirely digitally which is weird.


Edgar Vargas (c) Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, and Scriabin's mine.