#// cw: suicidal thoughts

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 13 - Teary Tuesday: "Please, Stay?"

i’m challenging myself to keep all these at either 127 or 1,270 words each, see day one for more of an explanation! adding a read more for the following CW: suicidal thoughts

He groans as he’s laid down, head pounding.

His savior tucks him in, Eddie opens his eyes.

"Please, stay?"

He watches Steve’s face crumple.

“Eddie– I can’t.” The last word is a whisper.

“...I know..” he whispers back, wishing this time that the alcohol streaming through his system would be enough. Would be the final bit to take him out.

But it won’t. Steve’ll make sure of it.

No matter how he’s feeling right now, Steve will make sure Eddie’s on his side, will make sure he’s breathing, will leave him Tylenol..

Then he’ll be gone before Eddie wakes.

‘Serves you right.’ Eddie thinks, ‘Face the goddamn consequences of your actions, Munson.’

Fame got him here. Fame cost him Everything.

Fame lost him Steve.

Serves you right.

see the collection on ao3!

[onlyancunin]

Little update again for anyone interested, bc I'm overflown with emotions.

Ok, so I did it.

In a single week, found a new place, packed my things (or at least the majority, some stuff is still waiting to be sorted and transported) and moved in to my condo.

I hurt my knee again and walk on crutch, my hands are so sore I barely slept this night and I had approximately 27 nervous breakdowns in the past two days, but I'm here, I'm queer and I'm ready to do some Astarion fan art now that nobody lurks over my shoulder in attempt to be controlling.

And jesus. I woke up today with my body absolutely useless after what I put it through while packing, and yet so... Serene? I literally cried out of exhaustion, relief, gratitude and what not.

And to think just 3 months ago I was deeply suicidal and drinking like crazy to cope. Always either with headphones or with earplugs to soothe my nerves and keep myself together, barely present in my own life and resenting it and myself. But here? I enjoy the silence or even occasional sound of my neighbors being present. I unpacked yesterday for hours without the need to overwhelm my brain with podcasts just to stop it from spiraling out. Because it didn't want to spiral out, I was at peace despite cursing a few times bc I'm a dumbass and forgot idle pc needs some activity to wake it up and I thought it got damaged while transporting 🤠

Thank you @herdarkestnightelegance , who supported me through the whole process and was there for me to pick me up and help me to keep going. The best thing that came out of this entire thing is your friendship. It's so nice to know someone cares enough to be happy for you. This is a gift, you know. I won't forget it.

And thank you everyone for your words of support and care, every single one. After months of being isolated and numb it's nice to see the world still wants me here.

Gosh I think I need to cry some more, a nice little emotional workout before work.

Have a great Monday everyone! 🖤

[the-fabled-void]

Just got hit with a random angsty thought about the murder time trio, specifically when they go visit other universes

TW: characters having suicidal thoughts

Those that feel guilty for what they did, when they encounter a Sans that they have to kill specifically, do they get a sense of satisfaction? A sense of catharsis? Because they get to finally kill themselves, even if it's not the way they want to.

[progmanx]

Nicole hasn't read that book.

She's not a bitch who reads. She's not a bitch who does really much of anything at all. Why put in the effort if you're just going to get yanked behind the hardware store and put down like a mangy dog even if you're Mother-fucking-Theresa?

If she's lucky, that'll happen today, tomorrow, or the next day. Someday soon so this can all just fucking stop, because doing shit is hell when nobody's gonna listen to you scream even when they do. She'd finish the job herself if she hadn't fucked it up so many times.

Get up. Don't die. Sleep. Good job, bitch, you woke up. Do it again. Forever.

It's easier with Jecka, so long as she keeps talking.

Please don't stop.

Nicole/Jecka, Friends to Lovers, CW: Nicole, and what you’d expect from the VN in general. Which includes scathing wit.

Nah, but seriously though, please give these VNs a shot. They are truly something special and definitely the single most bizarre yet apt thing to stumble into after Utena.

[mirrorthoughts]

WIP Whenever

Got tagged for wip wednesday by the lovely @tkwritesdumbassassins !💕💕💕 And as usual thanks to time zone shenanigans I only saw it this morning 😂

Since I don't know who else has been tagged in WIP Wednesday, I'm just gonna throw a few low/no-presssure tags as usual xD @raetttriestowrite, @whimsicalmeerkat, @lucky-bishop, @lavender-lotion, @geekmom13 💕

So, you're geting a bit of my current Teen Wolf Bingo prompt 'Lost', with a slightly de-aged, 19-year old Derek, who followed his sister to BH 3 years after the fire (aka when the canon happenings beginn). Current plans are for this to become Dargent!

cw/tw: suicidal thoughts - Derek thinks about letting himself die after killing the Alpha

Derek felt lost as he stared at the ground where leaves were hiding his efforts of digging and filling his sister's grave. His hands had already stopped hurting, had already healed after his blood had mingled with the earth right next to the husk of his old home. It was still home. He still remembered living there just three years ago. Three years that had gone by in a flash while Laura and he had tried to find their footing in another city, a pack of two, both more Omega than not. Even with her as Alpha and him as her Beta it hadn't been enough. And the mere thought of replacing any of their family members, any of the more than a dozen bonds they'd lost felt nauseating. For him even more than for Laura who at least had tried to find connections, had tried to find someone who could hold her and comfort her. Something Derek hadn't been able to. And now he was alone. And in her grave, Laura wasn't even complete, was only half of her because the wolf that had killed her hadn't stopped at ripping out her throat. He'd also ripped her in half. He only realized the sound coming out of his throat when he was already closing his eyes and raising his face to the starlit sky. The mourning howl of a lonely wolf echoed over the woods until Derek heard an answer in the distance and froze. He didn't want to lead the Alpha here. He did want to kill him though. He wanted to kill him and finally, finally find an end to all this. To all his loss and pain and grief. Maybe he would be lucky and once the one who'd killed his sister was dead, he would be too hurt to heal, even with the Alpha powers he would probably get in that moment. He just needed to kill the wolf that had killed his last living family member. He didn't need to survive it. He howled again.

[lunarosewood23]

FFXIVWrite Prompt 2: Horizon

ENDGAME FF16 SPOILERS AND CW FOR MENTIONS OF SELF-SACRIFICE AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Crossover hell (XIV -> XVI). As Origin looms on the horizon, Haurchefant tries to convince Dion to not lose hope.

~~~

Haurchefant couldn’t help but glare at the giant crystal hovering in the sky on the horizon, the last of the Mothercrystals that needed to be shattered to put down Ultima.

And yet part of him was worried. That thing came about when Twinside rose from the sea, and even with Raven doing her best to gather as many as she could, there were still thousands more who died when that monstrosity rose.

And he had heard nothing since.

He hummed the melody of Sohr Kai and felt Ratatoskr hum within his mind, so he knew that Raven was still alive, but the same couldn’t be said of the ones she was sent after.

He sighed as he stared down at the docks to see Dion, not having moved much since agreeing to help the Rosfields stop Ultima. Sure he was polite and kind as he always is when people approached, but he knew the mindset he was in.

He had see far too many suicidal soldiers in his life. Between his men at Camp Dragonhead, his inner circle, even among his men in Dravania and the Holy Order... It hurt him to see a friend and oath brother in such a state.

He got down from his perch to settle in next to him. The prince looked at him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Ser Haurchefant, is everything alright?”

“As alright as one can be, all things considered.” Haurchefant replied.

He watched Dion look away. “So there is no news then?”

“Nothing yet, but I can still hear Ratatoskr in my mind, so it is a sign that they are still alive.”

“That is well at least...” He replied softly, and Haurchefant didn’t miss the way he squeezed his own arms to attempt to comfort himself. He squeezed him close in a side hug, catching Dion by surprise but not immediately pulling away.

It was quiet for a moment before he heard Dion take a slow breath that sounded shaky to his ears.

“If you mean to attempt to sway me from going with Ifrit and Phoenix to fight Ultima, you will be sorely disappointed. I must atone, and I can only pray that my last light waits for me within Greagor’s halls...if he does not scorn me for what I did the last time I saw him...” He told him.

Haurchefant frowned. “Is there nothing that can be done or said to rekindle your light my oath brother?”

“Can you or one of yours bring back the dead?”

“Don’t test the limits of Mingxia’s abilities with that. She’s nearly died for that stunt alone. Four times.” Haurchefant grumbled.

Dion snapped his head up and was about to open his mouth when Haurchefant heard a chime in his ear. He pressed a finger to his cuff.

“Yes?”

“Put Dion on the call, please?”

“Of course.” Haurchefant nodded and pulled the small pearl that was attached to his cuff and held it out to the blonde. “It’s for you oath brother.”

Dion blinked as he took the pearl and held it to his ear, holding his breath as he slowly answered. “Hello?”

“My prince, don't worry, Kihel and I are alive. I know I can't ask you to abandon your course, but before you go, we found something I think you need to see. Come to the overgrown church in the southern part of the Aery. I think...I think it would be important if you at least gave your farewells to her before you go."

Haurchefant caught Dion before he could collapse as he watched tears sting in those once lifeless eyes.

“You are safe...yet why...”

“I will explain, but please, come to the Aery. And if you can, bring Mingxia with you. Raven thinks it important that she join you.”

Dion took a breath to steady himself. “Alright. I’ll see she does...”

“I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

With that the call went dead, and Haurchefant took the pearl back before Dion could drop it. 

“Haurchefant...”

“Yes my friend?”

“Do you think...I will be missed for a few days?”

[danceswithdarkspawn]

@tsunderesalty

screenshot because the ask isnt in my inbox anymore but HI THIS IS FINALLY DONE FROM LIKE (checks calendar) MAY???? anyway by now i think most of us have figured out #1 is going to happen eventually and #2 is fucking...AU material??? which I can't be caught dead doing.

so that leaves us with the Third Option. Did I actually make Morrigan be nice to Ariel??? idk but i tried babes

Brief warning for:

suicidal and/or self-destructive thoughts

mentions of death and dying

general spoilers (this is set post-Griffonheart)

largely unedited because I wanted this to be a little more casual

Morrigan looked up from her makeshift potions table. Ariel sat at the opposite end of the camp, perched in front of the fire, hunched and staring distantly into nothing. A corner of Morrigan’s lips briefly quirked, finding the image of the brooding Grey Warden somewhat reminiscent of the same one she fought the Blight with. Except now her lines were deeper, her face much more gaunt, and she possessed a darkness behind her eyes that was unnatural.

She swallowed thickly and looked back down to the salve she was preparing. She added a little more beeswax to the melting pot and sifted through a collection of tiny corked bottles filled with various oils, finally settling on three. The first contained royal elfroot oil for its restorative properties; the second held embrium, to make the spread warming. And the third was Andraste's Grace, which Morrigan acquired back at Skyhold just for this purpose. Morrigan carefully added a drop each from the first two, and two from Andraste's Grace. A sharply sweet aroma lifted from the pot when she gave the contents a stir. She rifled through her collection of glass containers, picking out one that was short and round, and gave it a cursory wipe down before pouring the contents of the pot into it. Satisfied, she went about making other provisions for the journey ahead.

Morrigan approached the fire sometime later, jarred salve in her hands. Ariel didn't look up from the fire until Morrigan stood beside her. The sharpness of her features were made even more severe by the shadows resting in their hollows. It made her appear much more slight than she was. Her skin was a sickly pale, nearly taking on the orange hue of the light of the campfire. The only variation was marked by black spidering veins creeping up her neck. Ariel's eyes began to cloud in the days prior, transforming her pupils into endless milky pools.

"Do I look that bad?"

Morrigan blinked, catching herself. She released a small breath through her nose and said, "You've not quite the visage of a hurlock. Perhaps there is some humanity left in you yet." A long breath passed with only the crackle of fire between them, meanwhile Ariel simply stared in silence. "I made more of this for you," Morrigan said, holding out the jar. Ariel took it slowly and turned it over in her hands. "I noticed you were having some trouble walking; it should help alleviate some of the pain."

Ariel set the jar down near her boot. "Thanks."

"Are you experiencing any other pains?" Morrigan frowned a little when Ariel shook her head. "Nothing at all?"

The beleaguered Warden let out a humorless laugh. "I'm dying, but yeah, I'm fine." Morrigan inhaled a slow breath and bit down a scathing remark. Ariel tilted her head up to regard her, was silent for a long moment, before letting out a sigh. She looked down, head dropping between her shoulders. Morrigan thought it reminiscent of a dog tucking its tail in. "I'm sorry," Ariel finally said, rubbing at her eyes. "I know you're just trying to help."

Morrigan released a measured breath, feeling her bristling ire cool. She crossed her arms, shifted from one foot to the other, flippant, meaningless motions meant to distract from her raw heart. Anger was how Ariel dealt with things, Morrigan reminded herself. She supposed she would be angry too, given the circumstances. Still, something about this anger was different. Helpless, perhaps.

The night and the campfire crackled on, unaware.

"Is there anything more I can do for you?" The question came out a little sharper than Morrigan intended.

But Ariel let out a bitter laugh that bordered on a sob. She shook her head in her hands, drew in a seething breath, pushed her fingers through her hair. "You could kill me," she finally said.

"I will do no such thing." Ariel didn't answer, hands clenched. "How severe is the pain?"

"Go stick your hand in the fire," Ariel said, motioning. "It's like that, but everywhere." Another hissing inhale. "And probably...I think I'd prefer to burn, at this point."

Morrigan made for her potions stock before Ariel finished, rummaging through little corked bottles, holding them up to the light, before choosing one. She uncorked it on the way back. "You could tell me before it gets so debilitating. Here." She held the bottle out; Ariel righted herself long enough to take and down its contents. Morrigan retook the emptied glass and returned it to the stockpile.

But she lingered there, frozen at first and eyes glazing over open tomes with their annotations, different reagents and the rest of her supplies. Her heart began to gallop, and Morrigan made herself busy without much thought. Pages turned, bottles opened, a crucible was filled; the scent of crushed embrium and wax and just a little rose water and—

"It's not debilitating," Ariel said from across the fire. "If it was, I wouldn't be walking."

"You are a fool," Morrigan spat. She flicked her wrist and a fire sprang to life beneath the crucible. "You needn't be immobile to be debilitated. You know this, I hope?" She shot a look over to the fire, where a pair of colorless eyes bore right through her. She snapped her attention back down, snatching a stirring rod and plunging it into the waxy slurry. "You should be resting."

"I will, once that stuff starts working."

Morrigan scoffed. Her brow ached. "I will hold you to that."

A strained laugh. "What are you gonna do, turn into a wolf and lay on me?"

A pang streaked through the witch's chest. A memory, long since tamped down, dredged to the surface; her lips flickered, the fire licked at the sides of the crucible. Morrigan hadn't meant for the gesture to hold him down, but rather to—

"It worked for Eran, did it not?"

The night turned deathly quiet. Morrigan tamped out the little fire, went about pouring the mixture  into an empty vessel. It wasn't blended well. Too choppy, too stiff from scorching. She'd attempt to salvage it in the morning. It did not matter much to her now, however; the distraction had served its purpose, though her nerves still felt frayed and raw.

"Would you do it for him? If he was like this," Ariel added, and Morrigan snapped her head over. "If he asked you to kill him, would you?"

Her blood turned to ice. A lump formed in her throat and Morrigan struggled to swallow past it. Morrigan was unsure if Ariel's irony was intentional, but its weight was hard for her to ignore. She wondered how fatally close Ariel was to realizing that was exactly what she allowed before the Archdemon's slaying.

Not that she didn't try. Or plead. Or...

Morrigan said nothing, unable past the vice on her throat, knowing her silence was as good an answer as any.

Morrigan returned to the fire some time later, sitting across from her companion. She crossed her arms, minding off the chill that had settled around their makeshift camp. She'd thought these nights very reminiscent of camping during the Blight, especially when the two of them took watches together. How they'd sit across the fire, with Morrigan trying to do something worth doing, and Ariel still and silent as a gargoyle for most of it, save the times either of them grew curious about the other.

They'd come full circle, like a snake eating its own tail.

"Before I left Amaranthine," Ariel began, and Morrigan started a little, "I sent Leliana a letter telling her what I was doing, that I wanted to find an end to the Calling." Morrigan's eyes flicked to Ariel's hands, where she flipped a twig between gloved fingers, all the while her eyes remained on the fire. "Wanted her to come with me, but she couldn't. She told me Justinia wanted her. And I didn't understand because I thought—" Her fingers closed; the twig snapped. She flung the remains into the fire. "She made me promise I would tell her if I got my Calling so she could be with me."

In another life, Morrigan wondered how different this all might be. She knew solitude had done lasting damage to the Warden; it was evident before leaving Skyhold. It was not until this endeavor, however, that the depths of those scars revealed themselves. It was...sad, in a way. Familiar, but also sad. "I imagine it is difficult that she could not accompany us."

A short laugh. "Leaving Skyhold was about as difficult as leaving for Amaranthine," Ariel admitted. Silence. "She still had work to do for the Inquisition. I can't do much about that." She paused again, her head tilting, until she reached down and plucked the jarred salve from beside her boot. "That's what the ring's for, right?" She set the jar in her lap, then pulled upon the fingers of her gloves until they came off. The aforementioned band glinted in the firelight before it too came off, dropped inside a glove, and then set aside in favor of opening the jar. She took a generous amount on her fingers, spread it between her hands. "Though it doesn't really work in a place like this," she continued, sounding a little more subdued. "This in-between bullshit is weird. I can't feel her here."

"The flux of magic here makes such enchantments unpredictable," Morrigan admitted. Ariel answered with a low hum that mingled with a sigh, having steepled her hands over her nose. Her eyes fell closed, and Morrigan's lips quirked with a twinge of pride. The smell was potent, even from across the fire. "I could attempt to alter it, if you wish."

Ariel shook her head, then lowered her hands. "No, it's fine. We have more important things to do than fuck around with a magic ring." She resealed the jar and fished the ring from her glove. "I just didn't want to be alone at the end," she said lowly, sliding the ring back onto her finger. Her touch lingered, twisting the metal, kneading one hand into the other. "I didn't want to die alone in the Deep Roads and be lost down there. If things became so unbearable...if she was with me, then maybe—" She trailed off, her hands lowered, and she stared into some middle distance for a long breath. "I think it's better this way. I wouldn't want her to see me like this."

"No? She is not unfamiliar with death's face."

Ariel shook her head. "Not like this. It's too much. Even being like this around Kieran, the boy's too young...and if I'm honest, I'm—I'm glad Leliana had to stay behind."

Morrigan leaned back on her perch, a brow arched. That was not something she expected from Ariel. "Should I be flattered that you tolerate my company so?"

"I'm too weak," Ariel answered, kneading a hand into her eyes. "I want to go home. I trust you to get me there."

Ah. Well... "You know that there is a chance this does not work."

Ariel's hand lowered, hollow eyes fixed on Morrigan through the flames. Then her head dropped between her shoulders again, her thin hair becoming a curtain. "I know. That's been a possibility for over a decade now. Always there, always stuck to me like a shadow in my thoughts, my dreams, I—" Fingers clawed through her hair, and a low hiss coupled with the crack of embers followed. "If I were still with Leliana, I would have asked her to end it at least a dozen times already."

Morrigan drew in a slow breath. She was beginning to understand; the evidence had been there since leaving Skyhold, but in all the moons since their departure, Ariel's earlier outburst was the first time she voiced such notions. She supposed it was foolish to assume Ariel meant it in jest, though she could hardly fault her regardless.

And again she wondered how things might be different if things had played out just a bit differently.

Love was such a trap, one all of them had been snared by in one way or another.

"And you think Leliana would kill you?"

"If I were to beg, if things were so hopeless..." She slowly shook her head in her hands, her hair bunching in the crooks of her fingers. "I'd like to think she would," Ariel answered, not looking up, her voice a touch thicker. "I hope she wouldn't."

Morrigan was unsure of what to say. Delicate sympathy was very much out of her element. It was one thing to deal with the ills of her son; it was an entirely different matter responding to grief left to fester for a decade. When everything aligned and horror seeped in, it was everything Morrigan could do to stave away her own grief. "Do you truly believe she would allow you to lay down and die? Have you so little faith in her, in yourself?"

The Warden reared back, her lips spread into a bitter grin and she laughed. Morrigan bit the inside of her lip, golden gaze narrowing, watching Ariel claw at the twin streaks running down her face. "This is what I mean," she said, and Morrigan raised a brow. "Why I'm glad I'm with you and not her."

"I am afraid I do not follow."

"This," she said, balling her fists and shaking them. "This insistence to just...keep going, even if I don't want to. It's what Eran used to do for me. Whenever I wanted to lay down and be done with it all, he'd just—" She sucked in a breath; her colorless eyes were wild. "He'd pick me up by the scruff and say 'Get up.'," she hissed through her teeth, "'You're not done yet, get up!'" A long silence followed while Ariel stared into the fire, her breath heavy, and her visage looking every bit beastlike with the way the fire and ghastly light of the Crossroads lit her face. For a moment, Morrigan wondered if this place knew of Ariel's nature.

"I need that," Ariel finally spoke, subdued again. "I need to be told to keep going. Not soft reassurances and 'oh, darling, rest for a while.' No, as much as I want that, it won't fix me. Once this is done, if I survive this, I'll have a lifetime of that, but for now, I—" She looked off to some unknowable spot beyond the fire, then finally dragged herself to her feet, collecting her discarded things. "I suffer a little now, it'll feel all the better when it's over. That's how that works, right?"

Morrigan's lips momentarily quirked. "Yes, the sooner I return you to that tart of yours, the better, I think."

Ariel tossed her a hollow glare. "She's not a tart."

"No? The way she acts around you, I might have been fooled." The jab dredged out a reaction from Ariel that Morrigan had not seen since departing Skyhold: she smiled, a genuine, lopsided smile, and she raked a hand through her hair, looking down. Morrigan could guess what she might be thinking about. "We should move on from this place come morning," Morrigan suggested before they carried on further. "We have lingered here for long enough."

"Right. That's probably wise."

With that, Ariel vanished into her tent, and Morrigan set about preparing for the journey come morning. She sorted and packed up much of her supplies, putting away the things she would not need immediately and leaving the rest before setting off.

"Morrigan?"

She snapped her head toward Ariel's tent, finding the woman dressed down and standing with her hands fidgeting at her front. Morrigan opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, but she finally spoke.

"Thank you," she simply said. "For everything."

Morrigan's thoughts fell over themselves until she finally managed, "Of course." Of course. As if it were the most...natural, obvious answer. If Ariel thought it indifferent, however, she gave no indication. She nodded in farewell before disappearing back into her tent, this time for good.

Morrigan went back to organizing her things, albeit in a slower, more deliberate manner as her mind wandered. Was she doing enough? Could this be stopped? What if it couldn't?

The heavy lid of the trunk carrying her various reagents thumped shut, but her hands lingered upon it, her eyes following the worn ivy patterns carved all across it. It had to be, she told herself. "Would you do it for him," she mouthed, her fingers curling in on themselves.

She wondered what he might say. She wondered if he'd let her.

[furby-organist]

> "Instead of saying 'I'm going to eat exterminator spear,' I'm now saying 'I'm going to turn my child into an orphan!' It doesn't legitimize the extermination, it sounds ominous regarding my child's other parent, and it's a nod to the era I lived through!"

[deepwithinthecatacombs]

Wally holds a knife in his shaking hands, staring down at it. He can’t bring himself to do it. Not that Home would let him, of course, but…

He shakes his head. He should have declined that deal. He places the knife down, trudging away.

[smalllonelyegg]

so tired of the everything :(((

[ahordeofwasps]

Find the Word Tag

 I’ve been tagged by the wonderful @charlesjosephwrites! Thanks for the tag! My words are  spread, skip, poor, rush, and dive! I’ll be sharing excerpts from To Not Falling Off Cliffs and Mayday!

But first, the no pressure tags! I’ll be tagging @amewinterswriting, @kaiusvnoir, @winterandwords, @loopyhoopywrites, and open tag! Your words are terror, time, tend, and torn! 

Now, onto To Not Falling Off Cliffs and Mayday! Just as a content warning for the Mayday excerpt at the end, there are some intrusive thoughts that verge on suicidal, so cw: suicidal thoughts.

To Not Falling Off Cliffs

Spread & Poor

Erika Knight’s grave was one of the barren graves. She was buried in early September, a season that was already poor for the growing of grass, but even so it was apparent that her grave would continue to be barren in the years to come. The earth above her grave was coated in a thick layer of white frost which spread beyond the small rectangle marking where her grave had been dug, killing the surrounding plant matter, turning the blades of grass white. The air surrounding the grave misted, moisture rapidly condensing out of the air. The day was clear, but a small patch of clouds gathered above the cemetery, almost green in colour as they swirled, the chilling vortex creating a minute meteorological anomaly.

Skip

Not found. So, as a fun fact, the trivia group Steve, Erika, and their friends formed is called the Immortal Kittens!

Rush

Steve shook his head. He opened his mouth again, trying to shout something – anything – even a guttural cry. But nothing came out. He waved his arms at the yellow star but…

But he was no longer in that grand hall in the backstage of the Universe.

Steve was now seated in a booth at the Third Eye. The pint glass he had been drinking from earlier was on the ground at his feet. He could feel the stickiness of spilt beer on the bottom of his loafers. Scattered on the table in front of him was his team’s trivia sheet, half-filled with Zargun the Destroyer’s neat, almost box-like handwriting. A stubby, yet sharp pencil sat beside it.

“STEVE!” he heard Ambrose shout. When he glanced up, he could see her along with his other friends rushing over to the table. “You’re back!” They crowded around him, getting close, but not close enough to touch.

Mayday - cw: suicidal thoughts

Dive

As soon as I reached the top and looked towards the ocean, I could see this wall of deep blue water surging towards me… it wasn’t even a wave, but… like… I dunno… it moved like a glacier… unstoppable and solid, consuming all in its path, except… it was fast… it didn’t take long for it to reach the frankenlift and wash it away along with all my other supplies and now the water is surging around me, the crater rim keeping me safe only by a few meters of elevation… it feels like I’m standing atop a very small island in the middle of an ocean that looks… almost earthly…

The blood lichen got all swept up and even though I still see patches floating about, they’re just… patches… the rest is blue… a deep blue… I have this… inclination, I guess… to just step off my little refuge and into the blue… I’m-I’m not going to do that of course! I’m not going to drown! But… I can’t help but want to feel the cold water lap against my skin without the gelatinous mush of the blood-lichen… I want to dive down deep and see… a normal Earth fish… some seaweed… or maybe even a shark or a giant squid…

It’s just… the blue… it calls to me… I’m not going to answer, not now at least. And hopefully not ever. If there are survivors, I need to find them… I need to…

[natteryaktoad]

Gabriella & Gavin Newson, Day 85, Part 2

George is so popular. He's got hundreds of friends, and hundreds of girlfriends - why would he even bother with a disgusting fat pig like you?

Might as well have another slice. It's a waste of time trying to convince yourself you're not just going to eat the whole thing. Maybe you'll do everyone a favour and just eat yourself to death. Probably no one would notice - no one would miss you.

You're gonna need a lot more air freshener than that if you don't want everyone to know you just made yourself sick because you're such a freak. Who does that? What a waste of food, and money... what a waste of space you are.

George: Hey Ev - you okay? You've been a while in there.

Everett: I... I'm fine.

George: You sure?

Everett: Yeah. J...Just thought I'd do a bit of cleaning whilst I'm in here.

George: Alright. Hey, can we talk? When everyone's gone. I'll be in the living room.

Everett: Okay...

What does he want to talk to you about? Probably to tell you to leave him alone and stop being such a weirdo. To tell you obviously he could never love you because no one could. Why would anyone want a broken, messed-up, sick freak like you?

Yeah, go on, keep scrubbing. You'll never wash away what a disgusting fat pig you are-

Everett: Shut up!

Who are you talking to, weirdo?

[elceetheporcupine]

Dogfight 21

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**CW: Brief suicidal thoughts**

Blitzo's gonna have to really say something about this. Hopefully there'll be a few pages left.

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[givereadersahug]

My Fanfic 💖 Bliss (Harry Potter)

Devil's Snare/Harry Potter, Rated E, 349 words

@hpkinktober || Day #1 Devil's Snare

POV First Person, Choking, Suicidal Thoughts

Harry fucks the Devil's Snare.

Link: AO3 or Dreamwidth

[thekuraning]

>:)

Title: Moving on in a Maelstrom

Rating: M

Chapter 14: The lonely clock ticks in silence.

Chapter summary: Yuri is alone at home, working on a puzzle. He's near the end of his rope.

[schmooplesthesecond]

i hate that i can multitask very disparate emotions at once. it makes me inconsistent to be like "i feel so empty i wish i was dead" to fly back to "heehee kitties cute i love life" like fucking pick a lane brain!!! and can it be the kitty one?!?!?!?!