#“i know people who can come back from the dead” -> did summer actually die?

[strqyr]

oh. lol.

"i just don't get how the story is both real... and not." -> summer reflection happens here. -> "it all happened, just not the way alyx said when she wrote it." -> "so, what? she just lied?" -> "you have... no idea..."

they're not even being subtle about it.

[nyx-is-missing]

SUNSET PART 1

Or early summer!

Clarisse La Rue x Cassandra De Young (oc! Apollo's kid)

Summary: When Cassandra gets involved in a scandal early in the day, she goes to camp early.

Warnings: men....thats all i could think of actualy.

First read this!

Part 2 is here!

Cassandra De Young

Im fucked.

That's it, that's all i can say.

I knew it as soon as my hand reached his face and stinged, as soon as i heard a camera's flash, and as soon as i stepped into my mom's apartment.

Let's just rewind a bit, okay?

My family own a big business, that you already know by now, the thing is, when they reeaally want to do business with someone they go extreme, the most common technique is to get on the good side of everyone in the family, everyone.

They research, pretend to have things in common, to like the same things, to have the same views of life, and to make it more believable they always go for the person who is closest in age with them.

Usually i dont get involved in this situations because im younger than everyone else, the only teen in the family.

The thing is, this family also had someone around my age.

A 18 year old guy.....eighteen.

Let me tell you, i really wasn't going for trouble today, i tought he may be a normal guy, just with a little money, someone i could have a conversation with, drink some coffe, laugh and go back home and think "hey, not so bad"

He.was.not.

All he could talk about is how much money his family had, where he went for winter break, his pure blood horse, that only ate (attention to this one) IMPORTED GRASS.

Overall a huge dick.

But that i could handle, i've met people like this, i could handle a shitty talk for some hours, what i could not handle was having to go through all this with his hand on my knee bellow the table.

And here i was, spending one of my last days of spring being tortured by the fates.

"You're not paying much attention to the conversation are you?" He said, and gods that accent was almost making me want to jump out of a cliff, or push him out of a cliff, both would work.

"Oh sorry i was-"

"No need to apologize, people get bored i know" Not that he did something criminal by not letting me finish my sentence but, my gods every action coming from him its making me want to die right now "Its okay, i could find some way to make you focus"

Okay, im done

"Im gonna need you to stop saying odd shit" I looked him dead in the eye with a bothered look, and by the surprised look he gave me back i was 100% sure nobody ever told him to shut up when he was saying nonsense.

"C'mon, dont be like that-" he said trying to get his hand a little but upwards, and i only realized i slapped him when i felt my hand burning.

"Oh my gods im sorry i-" And then i heard the camera flashes.

Im going to need you to imagine the scene, my hand was still up, his hand was till on his cheek, and he had a scared look in his face, as did most of the people at the fancy coffe shop.

Do i smile now? Strike a pose? This one is definetly getting front pages at every place.

I chose the safest choice, got out of that straight to my house.

No..i did not payed the bill.

The whole way home i was trying really hard to think of something to say that was not going to make my family mad, especially my grandfather, but considering whe has always mad with something, that felt like a impossible mission.

First thing i saw when i opened the door of the penthouse was my mom, standing in front of the television, and sure enough, my face was on it.

She turned to me, but before she could even say something i started to explain myself.

"Its not what it looks like mom, i swear, i didn't do it on pourpose, let me explain please-" i couldnt actually read the look on her face, but she didnt say anything, so  i took that as a go ahead.

When i explained her what happened her face relaxed a bit, but not completely, and she had a look that said your grandpa is getting in my nerves because of this.

"I'll talk to your grandfather about this, but you need to know that the way you acted wasn't appropriate, there is cameras all around and you need to be careful...lets just thank the gods you didnt pulled out a dagger right?" She walked closer to me, and i knew she was trying to comfort me, its a pitty actually, i knew she didnt wanted kids when she had me, i knew how grandpa treated her when he found out, to me, it was enough that she at least tried to love me enough.  "You already have your things packed to camp right? I know you have some more days of school but ill call them and tell them you are sick, its best for you to leave earlier this year, then your grandfather wont talk your ears out...you okay with that?"

"Yes mama, ill just finish packing some small things...do i leave today?" I felt her hands on my shoulders, and heard a silent im sorry.

"Yes, but dont be like that, think that you at least wont have to see the news talking about you..youll just be there, with your siblings, eating strawberies and..whatever else demigods do daily, right?"

Like i said, it is enough to me that she tries, even when she isnt great all the time, i know people who dont even have this.

I nodded and went to my room, making sure not to accidentally hit a new sculpture, placed in the corridor.

I didnt wait for her when i finished packing.

I knew she wouldnt be the one to take me there, she never is, she has things to do with the family business, its what ive always heard.

So when i got to the underground garage with my bags i automatically searched for one of the family drivers, sure enough, he was there.

He was a nice guy, but quiet, i knew that he probably had orders not to talk to the family members unless spoken to, grandpa did this with all of them, i also knew he never actually knows where hes been taking me, he takes me there almos every year, but always stops at the road in front of the forest, maybe this sad look he has on his face its because he thinks he is taking me to one of those crazy wilderness therapies as a punishment.

Granpa would absolutely do that if he hadnt had to live with a great public appearence.

"Miss? We are here" He looked at me in the rearview mirror, i only realized i had doze of when my eyes met his and i blinked. "Hold on tight, im going to help you with your luggage okay?"

"Oh..thank you mr bell" He opened the trunk, and then the back door for me, extending his hand to help me get out of the car "thank you, again"

"Sure miss, just let me take your bags out and we are all set okay?-"

Another car dor noise made us both look to the right, to find Clarisse La rue, closing a taxi door, with just one big suitcase in hand.

Now, my story with Clarisse is kind of complicated, i've met her when he were, eight i guess, her family bought some shares in the family business and we saw each other very regulaly, and ever since then everything everyone told me about her is that she is a troublesome girl, that i should stay far.

But she was the one who realized i was a demigodess, and took me straight to camp when a monster found me, and she was the one who, many times when we were little, comforted me when my family made me cry.

It seems like she forgot all of that because she never even looks at me.

If you ask her, she has never even met me at all actually.

"Clarisse, you're early"

"Cassandra, you too-"

"Cass actually, i prefer cass" i corrected her, to wich she just rolled her eyes and muffled a whatever. "Thats all you are taking? One suitcase?"

"And you are taking all that? How do you plan on walking the whole way with all that? Im assuming he wont go with you" she said looking at mr bell, and its true, he could not walk the whole way with me, and i could not walk with all that alone...fuck

"....you could help m-"

"No, dont even think about it"

"C'mon Clarisse!" She didnt even answered me this time actually. "Arent you a Ares-" i looked at the driver taking the suitcases out. "A ares...type of kid? You will pass on the oportunity to demonstrate your muscles or whatever?"

She started to walk away with a bored look, did i already said fuck?

"C'mon ill do whatever! I- i dont know.. 20 dracmas!, no?, ill help you with the cleaning duty you'll eventually have when you fuck it up? I..ill do that AND ill cure you anytime you want, everyday, no matter the time!"

She stopped walking.

Yes! I knew it, one of the many problems clarisse had its that she likes to go out at night to train alone, and when she gets hurt she cant ask anyone to help her, because she would get caught

"Give me those suitcases already and shut up-" she was interrupted by a very happy me hugging her.

"Thankyouthankyouthankyouclarisse!"

I felt her hands on my arms and realized she was going to push me away, so i took a step back

"Geez Clarisse, you could've just told me to back off, dont be like that... just take these and ill take those"

I said pointing to the suitcases, and saying goodbye to mr bell.

Can i already welcome summer and his crazy energy? No? Okay.

[citrusscale-remastered]

Do you have any Magisterium headcanons

OH BOY DO I!!

Okay, first of all I believe that Sarah and Alastair would not have lasted had she survived, but the thing keeping them together was that Call was an oops baby in the middle of the war. Also another telling thing was that Alastair wasn’t in the ice cave with them, but you know who was? DECLAN! I bet that Alastair’s internal monologue there was going, welp, there’s no way I’m gonna be a better parent than Sarah and I’m feeling the need to self sacrifice and die in battle so she and her brother can go raise the kid. also, I’m feeling guilty about not preventing Constantine’s descent into madness and murder.

and then they died and Alastair became the kind of parent that lets their kid eat dirt and drive at twelve.

next, CONSTANTINE MADDEN BLEACHES HIS HAIR PLATINUM BLOND. (and Jericho does not. He is very happy with normal brown hair.)

When Sarah got pregnant, her parents were Not pleased so Alastair and Sarah had a super fast civil ceremony at the town hall to appease them. Then Sarah died and her parents got super pissed at Alastair, (and Alastair’s parents are dead) so that’s why Call has no grandparents.

Alastair’s wedding ring was buried with Sarah.

Alastair and Constantine had a very messy friends with benefits relationship (that literally went until Constantine blew up a section of the Magisterium and ran off) where they both had feelings for each other but never said anything.

The Maddens are from Russia. They are also Catholic. Will not elaborate.

Call got babysat by Miranda (that tailor/antique shop lady from TBK) a solid bit when he was super young. Alastair needs his screaming and sobbing time by himself without freaking out his Tiny Baby Three Year Old.

After the Cold Massacre, Alastair almost became a Devoured trying to heal Call with earth magic but pulled himself back cause gotta be a human to raise My Son !!!

Alastair is also in Crippling Medical Debt from Call’s canonical Many Surgeries.

Alastair has no concept of children’s books so Call got read Shakespeare for bedtime stories.

Call is a white chocolate hater.

Constantine had a wolf named Mayhem so when Call brought home a wolf named Havoc Alastair was like, ah, the consequences of my actions have come back to haunt me

Aaron was seriously considering going into the military before he found out that he had magic.

The Rajavis are for real rich famous people outside of the magic world too.

Only child Jasper. Lots of cousins (for his parents to compare him to) though

Bilingual Jasper but Boy is he completely illiterate in Japanese

Ravan was a huge wake up call for mage parents to stop teaching their kids to learn magic through dangerous methods (like the whole eating matches for fire, blood for air kinda stuff in the first book)

One of Gwenda’s parents isn’t a mage and has her enrolled in summer school so that she actually knows like, physics and calculus and shit.

Alex is a strong believer in Sun In. However appalling the result is, Call still finds him cool.

Alex plays piano pretty well for being self taught. (Most of the things he can do is self taught. Don’t think about that too much)

When Aaron was in foster homes, he cut his own hair with kitchen scissors in the bathroom. The first time the Rajavis take him to get his hair cut, he thinks that it looked better when he did it himself.

During TCG, the Rajavis were in the process of adopting Aaron cause it would look super good for the Makar to have such a strong connection to them. (And totally Not to replace Ravan)

Call eats styrofoam

Ravan was Tamara’s favorite sister.

After TCG, Tamara learns how to drive (normally) from Stebbins. When her parents enroll her in formal driving lessons right before TSM, they’re a little surprised at how “naturally” good she is.

Before the Magisterium, Tamara learned flute and violin. Call is completely tone deaf, and Aaron can plunk out some pop song chords on a keyboard.

Every single time they have an oddly specific problem, their “I know a guy” is Aaron.

[epic-sorcerer]

warning: childhood suicide

a 10 year old boy named Sammy teusch was on the news because he committed suicide. Because of bullying. As someone who attempted suicide just 2 days before my 7th birthday, this story hit really, really hard. RIP sammy. I heard on the news that he spent his birthday money on gifts for his parents and his vacation time in Florida picking up trash.

I see that ther were people in the comments shocked that a 10 year old would know about suicide, one even claimed it was “fishy.” I can understand where this point of view can come from if you had a comparably easier childhood.

the rest of this post is to provide context as to what it feels to be a young, bullied kid with suicidal ideation.

the thing is, you don’t need to know about suicide to want it so desperately. I didn’t know about suicide when I was that age. But I DID know people could die. I did know that once a body is dead, there is no pain. And there are no ears to listen to horrible words anymore. Or eyes to see everyone else having fun and being friends with each other.

point is, people can suffer at all ages. So can they be desperate to end it quickly. Some of you reading this may remember the comic I made about my birthday, detailing how I commited suicide due to my greif of my grandmother dying. That is true, but god there was so much more going on that couldn’t fit on 4 panels.

at 3 my parents noticed I had something wrong with me that caused a lot of pain, but I would not be daignosed with AMPS(also known as the suicide disease, so go figure) until I was 7.5 years old. Even then, I wouldn’t really make any headway until extremely recently. I also had undiagnosed adhd, anxiety, seasonal affective disorder(depression), dyslexia and dyscalculia.

I was in constant torture in my mind and body. I was being emotionally abused at home(emotional distress and trauma feeds into amps so it was also physical in a way), had an ableist and just horrible first grade teacher, was isolated from most of my peers if not bullied, had no idea why my head was so stupid and broken, and yeah. My grandmother was dead. Still dead.

of course I wanted to die. Who wouldn’t? I had already been showing self harming behaviors by 5 or 6, so it wasn’t a thought that was out of left feild.

I have memories of my mom driving me to school in the mornings. I would go on monologues about how much I wished to die. Over and over and over. I talked about it like it was a summer vacation, or I guess, a perminant summer vacation. Because that is what it was to me. I belived I had suffered enough in my life and that I was ready to just do away with it. No more suffering. No more suffering.

On November 28th, my grandmother’s death date, I attempted suicide. I wrote a note on my white bored in my room that I was running away. But to please not throw away my stuff just yet incase I come back. Then I left my home. Thankfully my mom got to me quickly and took me home.

I am not so sure hwo to end this, I was not magically cured that day. I even graduated to cutting my feet with sharp objects soon after. But yeah, that’s my story. Questions are extremly welcome, creating awareness about this is important to me so don’t be shy. Thanks for reading

And oh yeah, ok to reblog. Actually encouraged for awareness tbh

[8momiji]

Hi! I did say I want to talk more about yuri manga here. I swear this is still a professional game dev account, but I want to recommend some few yuri mangas that would be perfect for yuriween. 

Some of this are going to be horror and some involves blackmail and murder, but I’m quite sure that most of you here are not normal like me. 

I’m sure you will enjoy at least one of this entries. I will be using the official links here, but I’m quite sure you know where to find the scanlatations, I hope you support this amazing people though. 

Now then…

My emotions! My feelings for Miku! Who decided they're worth less than 2000 years of curses!!!

Akumade Amai Watashi no Kanojo

Mai Amai --a girl who loves sweets-- got dumped by her girlfriend, and she's still grappling with the heartbreak. One day, the café she works at gets a new employee: The gorgeous Riri Kurosaki. Mai falls head over heels for her before realizing Riri is actually a succubus!

Bookwalker

Amazon

eBookJapan

Maple: Succubus! Sweets! Otherwordly Seductions are the perfect combo. 

Zenbu Kowashite Jigoku de Aishite

Kurumi Yoshizawa, the student council president, has excellent grades and an inviting, friendly personality... on the surface at least. In reality, her days are spent struggling against her domineering mother and agonizing over her teachers' expectations. One day, Kurumi reluctantly goes to meet Naoi, her truant classmate, at her homeroom teacher's request to look after her. The situation sours quickly as Naoi sees through Kurumi's facade and makes her animosity clear. On the verge of a meltdown, Kurumi is barely able to stop herself from shoplifting, unaware that she's being recorded by Naoi…

Bookwalker

Amazon

eBookJapan

Maple: Where can I find a toxic women to control every aspect of my life. 

Usotsuki Satsuki wa Shi ga Mieru

"Hey... Tomorrow, you're going to die."

Minazuki Satsuki, 16 years old. By all accounts your average 2nd year high schooler, apart from being a social misfit always declaring her classmates' impending deaths. They've nicknamed her Usotsuki (Liar) but her eyes are special indeed. What she sees with them is.. The grand return of Ryoko-sensei, author of Shi ni Aruki!

For every death (question), there must be a reason (solution)

Maple: I want to save you by carefully looking your corpse. 

Bookwalker

Amazon

eBookJapan

CDJapan

Watashi o Tabetai, Hitodenashi

High school girl Hinako is living a quiet life in a seaside town, but she feels somewhat detached from her friends during the summer months when she is reminded of when her family died years ago. One day, she meets Shiori, a mysterious girl who reminds her of the ocean, especially when it comes to her translucent blue eyes, but Shiori soon reveals that she is actually a mermaid who has been looking for Hinako for a long time.

YenPress

Bookwalker

Maple: I want a monster girl harem. I want evil women to eat me. 

Sugar Girl Drip

Marie, a sparkling university student who craves validation, takes up a part-time job at a concept cafe for their uniforms. There, she meets Akira, a spontaneous and unpredictable person. Their meeting sets off a chain of events that changes Marie's life, and they end up spending time together as…accomplices!? An overdose of desire begins in the neon-glowing sleepless city!!

Bookwalker

Amazon

eBookJapan

Maple: I want to secretly hide dead bodies with you. 

Mietemasu yo! Aizawa-san

Michi, plagued forever by her ability to see ghosts, pretends like she can't in order to avoid them at all costs. But recently she found a ghost she just can't ignore: Aizawa Honami, ex-classmate and ex-member of the famous idol group De:LPhinus, hanging around school from some lingering attachment.

Still, no matter what ghost it is, Michi's not getting involved. Though while she steels her heart, her eyes keep coming back to Honami's bizarre antics and passionate fanservice...(?)

Bookwalker

Amazon

eBookJapan

Maple: I want a clingy ghost gf.

Dead End

[delicateflowerss]

Heartless: Part Three

Series Masterlist

After crashing a party, you know better than anyone that Rafe Cameron has no heart.

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, violence, verbal abuse/degradation, dark!Rafe, choking, underage drinking, mention of drugs, pogue!reader, non-canon ages

3.1k words, thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoy the final part.

You wouldn’t call winter your favorite season.  

You grew up with the iconic summers of the OBX, where every color seemed brighter, and you could spend 90 percent of your time in the water.

But in the winter, it feels like everything has been sucked of its color, muted in comparison. It’s too cold to go in the water, but nowhere near cold enough for it to snow, the only time winter can be beautiful.

People also just seem unhappier. There’s less tourists, which can be a blessing, but it means less business.

Usually, it doesn’t feel this intolerable. So, maybe this year it’s just you.

You’ve been spending most of your time at home, either helping your mom around the house or lying in bed. You only leave if you need to run an errand.

But when you ran to the store this morning, the guy working at the register reminded you of the bonfire happening tonight.

It was awkward small talk with someone you used to go to school with, but it made you falter when he asked if you were going.

He might’ve been flirting with you, but it didn’t matter. All you could think about was how your friends will probably be there.

You haven’t heard a word from them since that day.

You did run into Pope when you were on an errand. The bags of food in his hands told you he was doing the same. But after you locked eyes with him, he went back to what he was doing, pretending he didn’t see you at all.

It felt like someone punched you in the gut. But what can you do? You fucked up.

That’s why you went home and did something you never thought you would do. You scrubbed any trace of Rafe Cameron from your life. You deleted text messages, blocked him on anywhere he could contact you.

You never want to see him again.

Your mom doesn’t hide her surprise when you tell her you’re going out tonight. She knows something must have happened between you and your friends, but she doesn’t even know where to start in asking about it.

So instead, she calls after you, telling you not to stay out too late.

You try not to roll your eyes at the bitter reminder that there’s no reason for you to be out late, or for you to even be going to the bonfire.

But maybe getting out of the house and letting loose a little will be fun for you. And if not, at least you can drown your sorrows in booze.

The beach is filled with people by the time you get there, the smell of smoke already sitting heavy in the air. The orange glow of the fire gives warmth to the people around it.

You park your bike, nervously hugging your sides as you walk through the chatter and the stench of beer and weed.

You keep your head low, not sure if you’ll be bumping into anyone you know or used to for that matter.

Just as you finally make it to one of the kegs, you hear a familiar voice. It feels like everyone else’s has disappeared. Their voices muffled compared to his.

You remember how his voice used to make your stomach flutter. It was a night like this when you hooked up with him for the first time. A bonfire in the spring, at a time when things were blossoming, the world finally in color again.

You had hope for the things to come. You thought if Rafe called you pretty, he must actually like you. You were so naïve.

It took you months to realize that he was just using you. Now you’re left in the cold, where things die and stay dead. You’ll never be who you used to be. You didn’t think someone could be that cruel.

You take a second to look at him, how he stands next to Topper and Kelce. He takes a sip from the red cup in his hand, and his blue eyes meet yours.

You look away, ignoring how his cold gaze makes your cheeks warm.

After getting your cup filled up, you walk away, leaving him with not another glance.

You try to shake off the encounter, heading towards the bonfire for some warmth and a spot to sit down.

But as you slowly step to the fire, your lips part as you make out the faces through the rippling heat coming from the burning glow. They blur and unblur, and you wish you could sit right next to them.

They’re distracted, talking to each other, a joint being passed around.

Everyone except for Sarah. She stares at the fire in front of her, like she’s deep in thought about something, or high out of her mind.

She’s the first one to notice you, her eyes flicking up to look at you. She doesn’t say anything, just staring at you like she’s trying to decide whether you’re actually standing in front of her or if you’re a ghost from her past.

“Sarah?” Her name comes out as a barely a whisper.

You start to feel hopeful, that maybe she’s come around, that she’s not mad at you anymore. But the second you say her name, something in her eyes harden.

The fact she still feels betrayed is evident on her face, like not a day has passed since you told them you’ve been sleeping with Rafe.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

Everyone else’s eyes move to you at the bitterness of her words. Any smiles are wiped clean off their faces, staring you down instead.

You move from one foot to another, looking down at how your feet sink into the sand. You struggle coming up with what to say.

“I just wanted to see how you all are. It’s been a while.”

You see them shift uncomfortably, like they don’t know what to say either.

John B is the first to speak up. “We’re doing fine,” he says it almost nonchalantly, like you haven’t been a thought in their heads since you rode away from The Chateau, crying.

You bite your lip, nodding.

Before you can respond, Kie interjects, “You really shouldn’t be here, Y/N.”

You know how long she can hold a grudge, you just never thought you’d be on the receiving end of one.

“I’m not here to cause any problems.” You keep your eyes on them, hoping they believe you. “I just wanted to apologize again. I really miss you guys…” You say the last part quieter, almost hoping the sound of the sea crashing into the sand could swallow those words up.

“We know you’re sorry. It doesn’t really fix anything though.” Kie crosses her arms.

“I-I can’t fix what I did,” you stumble out.

“Should’ve thought about that before sleeping with the enemy then,” Pope counters.

“I made a mistake-.”

“You keep saying that, but it doesn’t sound like it was one mistake,” Sarah cuts you off. “You lied straight to my face. How can I ever trust you again?”

Her voice wavers and her tone almost tells you she wishes she could trust you again. But she can’t.

You open your mouth to speak but JJ beats you to it.

“You know, I think I saw your boyfriend around here somewhere.” He pretends to look around. “Maybe you should run along and find him.” His eyes bore into you, hoping that his words cut deep.

And they do. You don’t stick around for another second, storming away.

You feel it getting harder to breathe, your chest getting tight. Your vision gets blurry with tears. You throw your cup down onto the ground in a fit of rage, walking away from the crowds of people.

You need to be alone, away from prying eyes.

You walk along the beach, until you can barely hear or see anyone. Just you, the sand, and the sea.

You’re sobbing now, letting the tears fall. You don’t know why what JJ said hurt you so much. Maybe it’s because JJ has never said anything mean to you in your life. Maybe it’s because you thought you could count on them to get what you’re going through. Maybe because it’s not true, and there used to be a time when all you wanted was to be called Rafe’s.

You wish you could tell them how wrong they are, that you know what you did was bad. But they’re not the only ones who’ve been hurt by him.

So wrapped up in your thoughts, you don’t hear the quiet footsteps behind you, and how they catch up to you.

“Fight with your friends?”

You spin around, startled, finding Rafe just a couple feet behind you. His smirk is almost triumphant.

You stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“They were gonna find out one day, right?” He lets out a chuckle. “Cut them a little slack, it’s hard finding out someone you call your friend is a traitor and a whore.”

“What the hell are you doing over here, Rafe?” Your anger pours out of you, not wanting to spend another second with him.

He seems taken aback at your tone, so he retreats a little.

“Just wanted to check up on you.” The insincerity in his voice doesn’t match his words.

You roll your eyes, scoffing, looking towards the ocean next to you. It’s almost like a vast plane of nothingness, the pretty blue disappearing in the dark.

When you turn your head back, he’s closer and his eyes are on your lips.

“I thought you could use some comforting.”

“Too bad you have the opposite effect on me.” You cross your arms, brows drawn together.

A humorless laugh leaves his throat, his pink lips parting.

“Are you mad at me or something?” His tone is accusatory, like he should be the one angry with you.

You take a deep breath. You had hoped that you wouldn’t have to do this in person, that blocking him would be enough for him to get the message.

There have been countless times where you’ve imagined telling Rafe how you truly feel, the good and the bad. But you could never make it happen.

Every time you two would get together, your focus would be on other things. Even if you were upset with him, you would pretend you weren’t, just so you wouldn’t ruin the moments between you.

“I’m just tired of whatever this is. I can’t do it anymore. I already lost my friends…” You choke up a little, your eyes stinging again.

“You blaming me for that? If your friends-.”

“No, Rafe. What happened with my friends is my fault. I’m just telling you that I’m done.” You spit out the last few words and try to walk past him, back to the bonfire.

But he stops you, towering over you.

“W-Wait, you’re done? What does that even mean?”

“It means fucking you was the worst decision I’ve ever made. If I had known how horrible,” you almost scream the word, “you would treat me. I would’ve never done it.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe it took me this long to see how much you don’t care about me.”

The only word you could use to describe the look on Rafe’s face is, confused. Like he has no idea what you’re talking about, which sounds about right for him.

“Where is this coming from? You like the way I treat you.”

Your mouth twists up and he steps even closer to you, hot breath fanning over you.

“I’ve never heard a complaint before,” he says slowly. “Actually, I remember you begging to be my girlfriend.”

Your hand reaches up before you can even think. The sound of your palm meeting his cheek is deafening. You’re not even sure what you just did, but the stinging of your skin, and the way Rafe’s head is turned tells you enough.

It’s not something you normally would do, but it feels like every ounce of pain he’s caused you had to come out one way or another.

He slowly turns to look at you, the red blossoming on his cheek. You don’t realize the gravity of what you did until you find his gaze, icy and unforgiving. Any beauty you used to find in those eyes, gone now, left with a burning anger that you put there.

Cold fingers grip your throat, pushing you back, causing your feet to stumble in the sand.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks through gritted teeth.

You grab onto his arms, trying to pull him off you. You struggle to say his name, his hand making it difficult to breathe.

“What do you think you’re achieving with this? That I give a fuck enough about you to be upset?”

He shoves you until your foot catches on something, his hand loosening as you fall back onto the ground.

Shaky breaths leave your lips and before you can get up, he’s already on top of you, pinning you down, a knee on either side of you.

“Why would I be upset about a dirty fucking Pogue like you?” He practically spits in your face with every word he says.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you sob out. “Just please stop.”

“I don’t know what the hell goes through that little head of yours.” He balls his hand up into a fist. “But you don’t get to tell me when we’re done.”

His fist hits the ground next to your face and you flinch as sand goes flying.

More sobs erupt from you as you start to feel his rough hand inching towards the button on your jeans.

“You always wanted me so badly,” he says through ragged breaths, unbuttoning his own pants. “But I never realized how much more fun it is when you don’t want me.”

You writhe underneath him, pushing at his chest with all your strength. Your voice is getting hoarse from screaming at him.

The abrupt feeling of him pushing himself inside you makes the breath hitch in your throat. He keeps going until he bottoms out, a sigh leaving his mouth. You want to push him away, telling him to get off you, but all you can do is dig your nails into his arm as he rolls his hips into yours.

Looking up through your blurry vision, you see his face contorted with pleasure as he continues to drive himself into you. He moves your hand off him, grabbing both your wrists. His bruising hold pins them above your head.

You turn your head, watching the water creeping closer to your bodies with every time a wave melts into the sand. His groans meld with the sound of the waves hitting the beach.

You’ve always felt calm near the ocean. No matter what, you can count on it to be there, the only constant in your life giving you a sense of security. But it can’t save you now.

“Look at me,” Rafe rasps. His other hand forcefully moves your head so you’re looking up at him again.

You want to squeeze your eyes shut, pretending you’re anywhere else. You hate the way you cling to him, his thrusts becoming smoother as you feel your cunt getting wetter. The feeling of him stretching you out is familiar, and you hate that most of all. That no matter what, Rafe gets what he wants. He can use you until there’s nothing left, that all you are to him is a whore that aches for him at the sound of his name.

You don’t know what you were thinking on that night, months ago. You thought he was handsome with the strands of his hair falling into his eyes and the polo shirt he was wearing that didn’t have a wrinkle.

You don’t know how you didn’t see the poison that fills his veins, or the casual cruelty behind his eyes, because that’s all you see now.

Your teeth sink into your lip as you try to stop your body reacting to his. He notices how you clench around him, a smirk falling onto his lips.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” He thrusts harder into you. “You’ll always want me, even if you don’t know it.”

A whimper falls from your lips as you feel a tingle in your toes. With one more harsh thrust, you’re coming around him. You try to catch your breath, your chest rising up and down, and you feel him pull out of you.

Before you can say anything, he grabs your hair from the back of your head, pulling you into a sitting position.

You can barely register what’s going on as he strokes himself, his cock twitching as he comes all over your face, the warm stickiness mixing with your salty tears.

The grin on his face is sickening as he takes you in, no doubt saving the mental image for later. “A Pogue like you doesn’t deserve my cum.”

He zips himself up, taking a look behind him before he swipes his thumb across your face, gathering the white before sticking it into your mouth. You try to push his finger out with your tongue, but he doesn’t let up, ending with you swallowing his salty cum.

He chuckles at the pout on your face. “Just remember,” his voice is low, “if you tell anyone about this, I can make your life a living hell.”

He stands up, leaving you shivering all alone on the beach.

You’re not sure how long you sat in the sand for. But by the time you found an empty restroom nearby so you could clean up, the sun was already peeking above the horizon.

When you finally got on your bike, you know you don’t want to go home.

Actually, you do. But instead of taking the road to your house, you take the one that leads you to The Chateau.

You’re not exactly sure what to expect, but you don’t care anymore. You feel hollow, an overwhelming pain taking over your senses.

As you walk up to the porch, you try to wipe the tears away, but there’s too much. The screen door swings open before you can get there. Sarah stands there, staring at you inquisitively.

You expect her to argue with you again, telling you to leave. You try to get a word in before she can, but your choked sobs stop you from saying what you need to say.

Her eyes soften and she steps forward, wrapping her arms around you, cradling you in a hug.

You want to tell her everything, promising yourself there won’t be anymore lies. And you will. But for right now, your eyes fall shut, feeling safe and loved for the first time in a while.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @belcalis9503 @sweetestrose569 @gh0stgirl33 @amorisxx @luvmatchamilktea

[oldiesstationlover11607]

just read your ‘Welcome to the black parade’ fic and it was amazing! Could you maybe write a part 2? Only if you’re comfortable with that ofc, have a nice day! /gen

Welcome to The Black Parade part 2 - Gerard Way x reader

A/N: thank you for reading my work! And thank you even more to requesting something! I love writing requests because it’s good to challenge myself! I wasn’t sure how to add to the story but I definitely left room for more parts if people want them!

Warnings: death, swearing?, being shot, internal judgement of others, drug overdose mentioned, Frank being annoyingly cute 😭

yes, I know the photo is of Frank but it matches the story so 🤷‍♀️

It didn’t take me long to get changed into the black and silver uniform. It fit tightly against my body extenuating the features I already had. Gerard and the others had waited outside the room while I’d gotten changed and I could hear them whispering harshly. 

“I’m done,” I mumble, pushing back the curtain to see a vast gray landscape and what looked like a city on the horizon. The air smelt like a mixture of a hot, humid summer day and New York City. Don’t ask how I got there. 

“Woah.” I dart my head in the direction of the voice to see Ray punch Frank in the arm and flash him a disapproving look. They both lead the way while we walk towards the city, Mikey trailing behind them. Gerard and I walk a little further back, slower than the others. I look forward but reflect on Gerard’s change of look. His hair is still black, longer than it was when it was white, more scruffy and grown out. I wonder what he looked like before he died or if he chose his image. 

“Technically both,” he speaks, turning to me. I try to hide my shock that he knew what I was thinking. “Sorry. It’s a habit. When I got here I could read people’s minds. I don’t really know how it works but it’s hard to shut off.” I try to smile but being reminded that I’m dead and not on Earth makes it a struggle. 

“It’s okay. You know, you’re really not as scary as I thought you’d be. Other than the skeleton hand.” We finally reach what looks like a parade float and the others climb up on it. Gerard jumps up and offers me a gloved helping hand. 

“Thanks? I promise my hands were normal when I was alive.” We all sit down and the float starts moving in the direction of the city. 

“Wait, so how did you guys die?” I ask. Mikey lets out a sigh, pointing to himself,

“drug overdose.” Ray speaks next. 

“Natural causes.” To this Frank laughs and Ray shoots him a look similar to the one from before. 

“Well I got shot. 13 times.” I feel shock run through my face. “Don’t worry babe, it was 100% my fault. It was 15 years ago anyway.” I nod, trying to not pass judgment. He looked like the type of person to be involved in crime, yet somehow I believed there was more to his story. Yes, he had black gauges in his ears and was covered in tattoos but he seemed kind, almost lighthearted. My mother used to warn me about people like him. I grew up utterly terrified of people covered with tattoos until I actually met some and realized an irrational fear of tattoos was ridiculous. Then I got my own, a little music note on my wrist and a ghost on my thigh. We all turn to look at Gerard to hear his story but he simply shakes his head. His hair jumps across his face as he does this. It somehow looks unclean and pretty at the same time. 

“We don’t talk about how I died. It’s not something I talk about nor ever intend to talk about.” 

“Wait really?” I ask, tilting my head. The leader of this group doesn’t even tell his own death story yet feels like he can be the savior of everyone who comes in here dead. 

Frank scoffs, “The only one who knows other than Gee is Mikey because he was fucking there. But what I really want to know my dear, is how you so kindly hit the grave.” This is when I realize. The moment I try my hardest to reflect on every moment before I woke up here. The deadline of the heart rate machine and the white curtains of what I believe was a hospital room, the sounds and smells of the room. But then it dawns on me. 

I have no idea. 

Gerard rests a hand on my arm with a concerned look plastered on his face. 

“Oh that’s not good,” Ray remarks, clearly noticing Gerard’s reaction. 

“That’s never happened before,” Mikey notes. Gerard grips my arm firmly.

“It’s okay Y/N we’ll figure it out. I’m sure you’ll remember soon it’ll be oka-”

“And if you don’t then consider yourself lucky!” Frank interrupts, a large grin strung across his face. I nod trying to seem calm but really, I’m freaking out. I take a deep breath and put on a brave face as I look out at the city which moves continuously closer as the parade float moves along the infinitely flat ground. I wonder what’s in the city, who lives there. But something tells me it’ll be nothing I can imagine. And that very same feeling tells me that things are gonna change pretty soon. 

//

Hope you enjoyed! Feel free to request fics!

[evita-shelby]

They didn't know we were seeds

Chapter 15

Cw: death, trauma, rage issues, mentions of cannibalism

Heaven Lavey belongs to @call-sign-shark ,Nina to @peakyswritings

@justrainandcoffee @emotionalcadaver

There were always rumors that the lands up north had people no longer subject to Panem, as there are rumors of South America existing beyond the ocean that covered Central America and what used to be southern Mexico.

Those who went looking never came back. The last she heard, Dalton, a man who used to work with Cousin Andres had left and so far, no body had been found.

“What do you mean?” Eva asked quietly fearing they’d still be overheard.

“13 and Panem made a treaty that 13 would fuck off and Panem would let them be as long as they never made contact. Our friends have been working with them to end all this.” He explained, just as quietly as she had spoken. “There’s a network that helps you evade peacekeepers and the like from 11 to 12 and then leading you to 13s first watchtowers.”

So, Lyme knew of it through Aveline, or Chaff and Seeder? Haymitch was somehow involved as the only victor of 12 by the looks of it too.

And now they did.

“We could leave, take Laurie and run.” He takes her face in his hands and begs her to run away with him.

“We’ll talk about this at home, I don’t trust this place.” Eva hides her no well enough for him to fool him. False hope was better than no hope at all.

Maybe they could run away if Heavensbee doesn’t find his symbol before Laurie’s 12th birthday, or if things become harsher for them, but right now isn’t the time.

Even when it will destroy Jack to lose his niece.

“For now, I need you to be strong for Gina’s sake. She’s terrified, Lyme told me about last night’s nightmare and how scared she is.” The woman pulled him closer until he was resting his sweaty head against her, and she could calm him down enough to pretend he’s not broken.

“I don’t know if I can, every time I see her, I know she’ll come back in a coffin. I killed her, if I hadn’t---” he’s too weighed down by the what ifs that Jack can’t even feign strength.

“Shh, I know, Jack, for Gina’s, for me and Laurie, don’t let them know they’ve won.” Eva soothed him as best as she could.

It was no wonder Abilene and the victor before her got so bad, how can you live past this? How can you live when your child is dead?

A freak summer storm stops them from having another pool party on the last day of training, but they have a party with foods and snacks teenagers like in the game room no one uses in this hotel instead. For a moment they are kids, tomorrow they’ll try and hope to charm the Capitol as to why they deserve to live and the day after these kids die at each other’s hands.

Eva shows up with Matty and their kids and try their best to ignore Gina’s death stares at her. She knows her as the woman who murdered her dad whom she had never truly met. She may die never knowing that Eva is her aunt, Jack has no idea how to even tell her.

Jack has done his best to be strong for her, to give her the false hope that she may actually survive this. The blonde tween had beamed at him when the trainers praised her for her agility and skill.

“I don’t know if I’m going to tell her; I can’t send her off like that.” He admits as they sit against the wall while the kids watch some funny movie that’s all the rage in the capitol right now.

“Then don’t, I won’t make you do it.” She whispers as she gave his hand a good squeeze.

“I love you.” He says, turning to look at her thinking no one can see or hear them and even worse kisses her sweetly as if he might never see her again.

“So, its true then? You’ve been fucking this bitch like she didn’t kill my dad!” Gina makes her presence known with a shout and begins throwing anything she can get her hands on at them, at him.

Gina’s shouting loud enough to startle the avox setting out her night clothes.

“They talked about it at school and I told them you would never do that, that you loved my dad too much to fuck her and have a baby with her!” the betrayal has his niece crying and screaming as her image of Jack is shattered by the truth.

“I planned on telling you, once it was safe to do so, Gee. Shit is more complicated than you think.” The mentor still barely knows how to explain it to a child.

As much as Gina thinks she is grown, she is still a fucking twelve-year-old girl.

“She killed your brother, my dad, and you decided to get together with her even if its fucking illegal!” she grows shrill and loud unaware every second of this is being recorded.

“Once you are inside that arena, you have no choice, kid. Even those of us who volunteer.” He would love to tell her everything and hope she could change her mind, but he cannot. “Every victor here has met the victor that took their loved one. I killed two kids she grew up with, Brutus and Wiress had killed her brothers.

Most of us learn to forgive them and even befriend them. If you survive your games, you’ll know what I mean.”

“Did you have to name him Laurie?” Gina asks, having heard some of what he said. She never would understand it entirely because she is going to die this weekend. Something that he hates himself for.

“No, but we wanted to. I’ll never see him beyond pictures, at least I know he is mine and that his name is what I wanted to name my son.” Jack lies through his teeth to a girl already dead.

There is an axe at the cornucopia.

It is a dense foggy forest at the foot of a snowcapped mountain and while everyone has a reason to fear for their tributes, no one has their own flesh and blood in there.

Jack is glued to the screen, digging his nails on the back of the chair he’s sitting backwards on as he mutters as if Gina could hear him. Gina had done exactly as he had trained her to do and with the career pack with her had survived the bloodbath.

Marius and the rest of the careers do their best to protect her, getting her safe and armed with the hunting knife meant to tempt Titus from 6. Titus was too fond of meat, always hungry and prone to biting other tributes and even trainers. Had trained with a hunting knife and had promised to carve out his enemies’ hearts and even Caeser in his urine-colored hair wasn’t sure how to spin that.

His mentor had whispered of a cannibalism charge that led to him being reaped. Said poverty was so bad in their district that it was not unheard of for someone to eat another human being.

The Gamemakers had given him a 10 in hopes of getting the careers to kill him faster.

Jack knows the game is over when Heaven Lavey comes away with the bloody axe and proceeds to hunt the weaker ones hiding about the woods that same night.

Marius had had the hots for her, like Laurie once had for Eva because Jack had made the mistake of saying the girl from 10 was 10 and asked if he agreed with Jack’s assertion. Jack had to warn the boy several times that the hot chick from 7 was there to kill him not take his virginity.

Eva’s kids had hidden well, worked together to get a handful of things and hid in a tree for the night. Chel was good at climbing, the cacao trees could be up to 40 feet tall or so she had said in her interview last night. Andy had a tree house high up a mesquite, and while not as adept didn’t fare too badly as Eva had feared.

Gina has yet to kill someone, the most she did was maim the girl from 6 that one of Cashmere’s kids finished off. But she was safe as long as the career pack didn’t break off. By herself she was as likely to survive as Alfie and Nina’s kids.

“I’ll stay with you until its over.” Eva moves a chair close to him after having reminded Nina from 9 to keep herself hydrated because she’s in the same shape as Jack.

Eva’s a healer, always taking care of everyone. It’s something he loves about her.

But Jack doesn’t know he’ll ever recover when Gina dies because he was too chickenshit to take them and run.

Gina is killed in the second day. She’d spotted a shock of white hair by the lake and tried to drown her thinking her easy prey.

It was morning when Jack is made to watch as Heaven Lavey buries her hatchet into his niece’s head.

Jack doesn’t come too until he is sitting in a room he destroyed with his bare hands. He is bleeding and hurt and crying like he’s never cried before sitting in the rubble of his room.

“I killed her. I killed her. I killed her!”

[soupdeewoop]

favorite lines from "THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT"

your wife waters flowers, i want to kill her

All my mornings are monday stuck in an endless february

but you're in self-sabotage mode, throwing spikes down the road

we're modern idiots

You smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate

i scratch your head, you fall asleep, like a tattooed golden retriever

sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me, but you told lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave

'cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night, I shouldve known it was a matter of time

'cause i knew too much, there was danger in the heat of my touch, he saw forever so he smashed it up

did you really beam me up?, in a cloud of sparkling dust, just to do experiments on, tell me I was the chosen one, showed me that this world is bigger than us, then sent me back where I came from

now im down bad crying at the gym, everything comes out teenage petulance, "fuck it if I cant have him", "I might just die, it would make no difference"

how dare you think its romantic, leaving me safe and stranded

my spine split from carrying us up to the hill, wet through my clothes, weary bones caught the chill

thinking how much sad did you think I had, did you think I had in me? oh the tragedy

i stopped cpr, after all its no use

two graves, one gun, ill find someone

you swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? i died on the alter waiting for the proof

i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you

id rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitchin' and moanin', ill tell you something 'bout my good name, its mine along with all the disgrace, I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empire's clothing

there's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles

my friends tried, but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing, for just one glimse of his smile

another summer, taking cover, rolling thunder, he doesnt understand me, splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter, he was with her in dreams

little did you know you home's really only a town youre just a guest in

florida, is one hell of a drug, florida, can I use you up?

little did you know your home's really only the town youll get arrested, so pack your life away just to wait out the shitstorm back in texas

i need to forget, so take me to florida, ive got some regrets, ill bury them in florida, tell me I'm despicable, say its unforgivable, at least the dolls are beautiful, fuck me up, florida

go on, fuck me up

this cage was once just fine, am i allowed to cry?

what if hes written "mine" on my upper thigh only in my mind?

these fatal fantasie given way to laboured breath taking all of me, weve already done in my head

what if the way you hold me is actually whats holy?

they dont know how youve haunted me so stunningly, i choose you and me, religiously

if you wanted me dead you shouldve just said

crash the party like a record crash as i scream, "whos afraid of little old me?", you should be

i wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me, you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

you caged me and then you called me crazy, i am what i am 'cause you trained me, so whos afraid of me?

they shake their heads saying, "god, help her" when i tell 'em hes my man

ill show you heaven if youll be an angel, all mine

whoa, maybe i cant

i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed

if you know it in one glimpse, its legendary, you and i go from one kiss to getting married

you shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles, i wish i could unrecall, how we almost had it all

youre the loss of my life

the lights refract sequin stars off her silhouette every night, i can show you lies

'cause im a real tough kid, i can handle my shit, they said "babe, you gotta fake it till you make it" and i did

lights, camera, bitch, smile, even when you wanna die

im so depressed, i act like its my birthday everday

'cause im miserable (haha), and nobody even knows, try and come for my job

and i dont even want you back, i just want to know, if rusting my sparking summer was the goal

you didnt measure up in any measure of a man

in fifty years will all this be declassifed?, and ill say, "good riddance"

i wouldve died for youre sins, instead i just died inside

so when i touch down, call the amateurs and cut 'em from the team

'cause the sign on your heart said its still reserved for me, honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

he jokes that "its heroin, but this time with an E"

you look like clara bow

this town is fake but youre the real thing, breath of fresh ait through smoke rings

the crowd goes wild at her fingertip, half moon shine, a full eclipse

youre the new god were worshipping, promise to be dazzling

beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours demanding more

you look like taylor swift, in this light, were loving it, youve got edge, she never did, the futures bright, dazzling

[aparticularbandit]

So.

Time to talk Stranger Than Fiction and Karen Eiffel and Danganronpa V3 and Tsumugi Shirogane.

Most of you have probably DRV3 spoilers, but you probably DON'T have STF spoilers, so if you haven't seen it, go see the movie and then come back because we're talking end of the movie twist spoilers, mmk?

So let's talk Stranger Than Fiction.

Stranger Than Fiction is about a man - Harold Crick - who suddenly begins to hear a woman's voice narrating his life. This is not so bad, until the woman says that something he did would soon lead to his death.

It's about the literature analysis of tragedy (Harold finds a literature professor to help him find the author writing him).

It's about a woman who is famous for writing ironic, heartbreaking tragedies (one of her protagonists was a teacher who died from a heart attack in a traffic jam on the first day of summer break; that sort of thing) but who cannot figure out how to kill her newest protagonist, Harold Crick.

And this all sounds very heavy, but Harold Crick is played by Will Ferrell and the professor is played by Dustin Hoffman and Karen Eiffel - the author - is played by Emma Thompson and her assistant is played by Queen Latifah and it is honestly a fantastic movie that deals with this stuff in an extremely humorous way. (And not like most Will Ferrell comedies which I refuse to see. This is not that kind of comedy.)

But it does come to a point where Harold Crick finds Karen Eiffel (through the power of being an IRS agent), and she is confronted with the fact that every character she has ever written is a real person. Her assistant gives Harold the manuscript - Karen had just figured out how to end it, how he was going to die, but she hasn't written it yet, just cliffnotes, and she doesn't know if that even counts or not - so that he can read it.

And while he's gone, Karen has this moment of "I killed all those people. All those wonderful people. And I just killed them. At the worst possible time, I killed them."

Because it is one thing to write a book and characters and it is a whole other thing to find out that those people are real and that you have that kind of power over their lives.

Harold reads the book and decides to let the ending stand because the book is beautiful and it's the right ending and he's willing to die - to sacrifice - because that's the proper ending.

And we, the viewer, see the death. See Karen writing the death.

See Karen break down over writing the death. Because she's killing someone. It doesn't matter that she's just writing a book; she's actually killing someone.

And then we cut to Harold being in the hospital with all of the broken bones and everything and actually he's not dead because Karen couldn't do it. She just couldn't do it. And when asked why, she says that Harold was willing to lay down his life for that, and "Isn't that the sort of person you want to keep around?"

But in the end, confronted with the fact of what she'd been unknowingly doing, Karen couldn't do it. Because Harold stopped being a fictional character the moment he became a real person.

And this is kind of the inverse of what we see in DRV3.

For Tsumugi, these people stop being people the moment they become fictional characters (and if she's been doing this for as long as it's implied she's being doing it, that makes sense).

But also - from the interviews we've seen - these people aren't Harold Crick. They're people who want to join to do murder, they're people who want to join because they've lost faith in humanity, they're people who don't understand that the premise of "the murder game is bad" is that "the murder game is bad".

And Tsumugi goes through who knows how many of these auditions every season.

Tsumugi looks at what probably, to her, feels like scum after a while (because she's hearing about all the ways these people want to kill other people probably, all the things they've thought of, and how excited they are to murder) and thinks, I will make you better.

It goes back to 3-2 - what value is a human life?

Kaito says that all lives have equal value, even the bad ones, and he sticks to that. Given the opportunity, he doesn't shoot to kill Kokichi and probably wouldn't. Because despite everything, Kokichi's life is still valuable to him. So is Maki's. So is everyone else's.

But this is only true because Tsumugi wrote a character who believed these things and was these things and had that character overwrite the very real human being who came before him who just wanted to jump in and kill someone. Who clearly thought exactly none of that.

Tsumugi takes lives that she sees have little value and writes them new lives that usually have more value because the cases and the storylines and everything say something. Mean something. To someone.

And yes, you can make the argument that Kiyo sucks, but let me tell you, despite the ending of 3-3, he is somehow still Lucah's favorite, so like. Every character has someone who loves them. Every character has a point and a purpose. And every story builds on those characters to make a point about hope - and usually about a lot of other things besides.

Tsumugi isn't right by any means. That's not what I'm saying.

But Tsumugi does the thing that Harold Crick would have let Karen Eiffel do.

She takes people who are willing to die to make a fantastic story.

And it's such. an interesting reversal and parallel. Because Tsumugi goes into it accepting this is what is going to happen. Karen Eiffel realizes and can't do it anymore.

(But Karen's character submits; Tsumugi's characters don't, even if the people behind them did.)

[bedlamsbard]

Number 7 for the chose violence ask game?

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

This is an immediate and unhesitating Star Wars answer: Ahsoka.

so these days a lot of my annoyance is about the canon, but go back in time to 2015 when the Rebels S1 finale came out. at this point Ahsoka had not appeared in (real time) Star Wars canon since the first TCW series finale (this show has had three for various reasons), which aired in March 2013, which is actually not that long. (She showed up briefly in Yoda's vision when Lost Missions aired in 2014, the second TCW series finale.) From a 2023 perspective, two years is not that long, but it was 2015, okay. TFA had not yet come out. Rebels S1 had just aired. The decanonization of Legends wasn't even a year old yet; the amount of new (Disney) canon Star Wars was in the single digits. This was years before Disney+ or TCW S7 (the third TCW series finale) and live action Star Wars television was an oft-shotdown rumor (Star Wars Underworld, we remember you kindly).

Back in 2014 when they first announced Rebels, there was a lot of bitterness about it -- did they cancel TCW for this, why aren't any of these characters Ahsoka, could Sabine maybe be Ahsoka? (They first introduced her helmeted.) You can probably find some of this on my Tumblr if you go back far enough because I was also very wary at the time. All through when Rebels S1 was airing there was a lot of conversation about when or if Ahsoka was going to show up in a way you really wouldn't get today, because these days we're used to cameos and crossovers. When Fulcrum made their debut with the masked voice in Out of Darkness, people reverse-engineered that voice and did digital...stuff...to try and figure out if it was Ashley Eckstein voicing the character, because back then people immediately did assume that Fulcrum was Ahsoka. And then Fire Across the Galaxy came out, and Ahsoka actually did appear, and then the animated side of Star Wars fandom lost its fucking mind.

so you have to understand that a lot of TCW fans did not go over to Rebels when it first aired. many did, I was one of them, but a lot didn't because they were very angry about TCW being cancelled, about Ahsoka not being a main character, about Rebels' art style -- gods, that one had (and still has!) people furious. and then Ahsoka appeared in Rebels with her new design and people just LOST IT.

(not my edit)

people were FURIOUS she didn't like her TCW vision version -- like, you think the reaction to her live action appearance was bad? please, we were all dead inside by that point and inured to Star Wars' nonsense. I have seen some shit in the Star Wars fandom and the reaction to Ahsoka's Rebels redesign is way up at the top of the list. The shape of her lekku and montrals. The tiger striping on her lekku. The shape of her face. The way her facial markings changed. Her skin color. The one that always sticks in my head are the people who argued that because she was wearing a different headband Filoni and Co. had stripped her of her cultural identity as a Togruta. The list goes on. I swear to gods however bad you think it was from what I'm saying it was worse. No, worse than that.

That's just the aesthetic elements. What also happened as soon as she had appeared was people going "well, Ahsoka's here, so Kanan is obviously going to die," and this went on for ALL of the hiatus summer between S1 and S2, and ALL of S2. As many SW fen who follow me know, Kanan is my favorite, so I was logging on every day to find people discussing how Kanan was extraneous and marked for death because why would you have Kanan when you could have AHSOKA. I got very bitter about it. (Not helped by canon completely fumbling Kanan every time Ahsoka was onscreen, I am still EXTREMELY angry about the hot mess that was The Future of the Force.)

Two years later canon quite literally did swap Kanan out for Ahsoka, and I've never really gotten over it, but when World Between Worlds aired that was the first thing that I thought of. It was just...extremely bad.

And then in general people get extremely weird about Ahsoka in the way that people always get about their faves (depth? flaws? we've never heard of them), in a way that's just been getting much worse over the years since Rebels S4 (which I hate) and TCW S7 (which I hate) and the live action appearance (which I hate) and the upcoming show (which I refuse to acknowledge). Even as a fic writer, it got to the point where I'd really hesitate to put Ahsoka into a story or a chapter because I knew that if I did, I'd get a large number of comments (large being relative here) that ONLY talked about Ahsoka and not about anything else going on in that chapter. And then when I didn't put her into a chapter (you can see this in the last few chapters of Crown that I posted earlier this year), I'd get people going BUT WHERE'S AHSOKA? As a cast of thousands writer it was a combination guaranteed to drive me crazy, even if I hadn't been, at that point, pretty neutral about the character. And I started as a fan, you know? I didn't come into TCW until S4 was airing, so the show had to sell me on her, but it worked, and I was a fan. It just...went wrong in every possible way.

(The Marvel equivalent for me is Peggy Carter, and I am doing a lot of work on my end to not end up as bitter about Peggy as I am about Ahsoka, because I know it's a danger for related but not identical reasons, and I'd really rather not have that response to two characters. And mostly I have been successful, because I'm pretty careful about where I go in the fandom and I'm not picking up rabid Peggy fans the way my Rebels fic picked up rabid Ahsoka fans, since it's a much larger fandom and people who are very aggressive about Peggy are not reading a clearly labeled SteveNat fic. It's helped by the fact that these are very different canons and very different fandoms, and that I came in well after Endgame, because I know if I'd come in before I'd be way less clear-headed about it; there's a reason I avoid all the Captain Carter stuff, which makes me rabid for various reasons.) (That said I know I'm blocked by at least one Peggy fan.)

[strqyr]

how can a story be real but also not -> it all happened, just not how it was said to have happened is actually very very very interesting re: summer when you think about what we've been told about her story, specifically how the characters believe it all went down.

summer leaves on a mission to face salem alone -> summer leaves on a mission to face salem but she wasn't alone, she had at least raven with her. [this is basically the proof of concept. the story of summer we've been told so far isn't a complete lie, but there are parts we are not yet aware of.]

summer dies on said mission -> this is where it gets interesting, bc if this did happen but not in the way we think, then... how? did summer die and was brought back to life somehow—hence raven's "i know people who can come back from the dead"—or is this a "by all means this should have killed her but didn't", e.g. summer fell into a grimm pool and had the same happen to her as what happened to salem, and the assumption that salem only survived bc of her immortality and the pools are lethal to everyone else is wrong, the pools simply don't kill bc that's not what destruction is really about [destruction fuels creation. if ambrosius must destroy his previous creation to create something new (which in fairness is light's view of the balance, which is kind of.. skewed), destruction with a side of creation would basically be change.]

meeting summer gave salem an idea for her experiments which would lead to the hound, and summer was her first test subject -> i think it's safe to say it's true that salem went from hunting down and killing silver-eyed warriors to capturing them somewhere around the time of meeting summer, but summer being her first test subject, the first "hound", can be contested. and frankly, applying "it happened just not the way they said it did" to "summer was the first hound" gets us right back to the "summer fell into a grimm pool" point; if summer is grimmified in any way shape or form, then it likely wasn't due to any kind of experimentation but a happenstance that gave salem the proof that this was doable in the first place [further experiments might prove that there's more to it, i.e. every grimm fusion so far involves having some type of magic as well. compare cinder's grimm arm and tyrian's regular prosthetic; why the difference?]

...does this make sense or did i lose the plot rambling too much? i will never know.

[juniperberries-canisroot]

MORTAL SANCTUARY

Summary: The one year 'anniversary' of Astrid's betrayal weighs heavy on the guilty conscience of Listener and Matron, Chantilly Leice.

Content warnings: Paranoia, regret, betrayal & guilt. Canon events, violence and death. First person PoV.

Context: I know Arnbjorn is scripted to die in game. In my story CL arrives just in time to save him. Everyone else dies thou.

Fun fact there is actually in game a NightShade plant by the escape tower. It's inside Solitide by the gate of the tower if you were using it to go outside. It's near the food stalls.

@tes-summer-fest

"You're part of the Family, after all. This, as you can see, is our Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim."

"Our Family, my dearest. Our Family."

Eight years. Eight years ago you told me that after I was recruited into the Dark BrotherHood. Family, safety. For seven years I was part of your 'family'. For seven years I did as you told. I served, and I killed, and I was part of your family. In some strange twisted way, you became the closest thing I ever had to a mother figure in my life.

But just like the people who were supposed to be my parents, you sold me off. A year ago you betrayed me. You saw me as a threat to your authority, your leadership. Years of loyalty meant nothing to you. I was nothing more than leverage in the end. And I still wasn't enough. My one purpose to you, my one final use, and I failed that as well.

I couldn't save them all. I couldn't save your family. I barely had enough time to protect the ones that survived. I am forever grateful for the ones who did, but I am forever haunted by the memories I have of those who didn't. The memories I have of them are tainted, thanks to you. I lost them. They're dead. It's my fault they died.

Do you know NightShade grows in areas associated with death? Areas where dead bodies lie. Places where someone was killed. Caves and homes that undead vampires inhabit. The exit tower you told me to take after poisoning the fake Emperor.

Some grow outside both Sanctuaries. There were always a few outside the Falkreath Sanctuary, even years before that day. Now, there's five more plants. Festus Krex. Gabriella. Veezara. Lis. You.

They others are doing well. Arnbjorn, Nazir, Babette, Cicero. There's been three new recruits since then.

I'm not doing well.

When I see a flash of black and red, my blood runs cold. Fear pumps through my veins faster than any drug could take affect. I instinctively reach for a dagger and search for a shadowy corner to drag them off to and slice their throat out. It's usually not a Penitus Oculatus agent, but there have been the rare times it was. Too many times for my comfort. What a sick irony that the BrotherHood and Oculatus uniforms share a similar colour scheme.

I'm constantly terrified that I'll loose them. That I'll come back to the DawnStar Sanctuary one day to find it ablaze, or that I will arrive far after the embers have died down, and find their charred corpses. That once again I will be too late to save someone.

They are the closest thing I have to a family, and I'm terrified at the thought of that. I'm terrified that if I say it aloud, if I think about it too much, they'll die. They'll be killed. And it will be all my fault again.

You were an idiot thinking you could go against somethin more powerful than you. I was a fool thinking I could allow myself to have a family.

Now I carry the Blade. I'm the Matron and Listener. Maybe it was supposed to be this way. I knew for years the way you ran the Sanctuary was wrong. Abandoning the Tenets, disregarding the Night Mother's authority. My authority, as Listener.

But what I wouldn't give for everyone to alive today. Arnbjorn said the others were already dead by the time I arrived. But that doesn't prevent me from thinking what could have been. If I was just a little faster, if I left a bit sooner.

I'll never have a family again. I can't allow myself to have a family, to cars for someone, anyone, like that again. Not after what happened that day. Not after you.

I hope you're happy with your decisions. I know I'm not with mine.

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Storm of Swords: Steel and Snow - 00 PROLOGUE (Pages 01-17)

Displeased with their situation, some of the Brothers of the Night's Watch plot desertion and mutiny, but their plans are disrupted when the snows arrive, and with them, something Other in the dark of night.

-

... Do not care for this Chett fellow, I remember he was rather unpleasant back in one of Jon's chapters. He struck me as a bit entitled but not nearly as clever as he thought himself to be. A "you said 'bare minimum requirement' so that's what I did, the full 'bare minimum requirement.'" type

"Mormont will be dead before daybreak, remember? Who cares what he likes?" Small Paul blinked his black little eyes. Maybe he had forgotten, Chett thought; he was stupid enough to forget most anything. "Why do we have to kill the Old Bear? Why don't we just go off and let him be?"

Ah. Damn. We've reached the mutiny already. Well, at least I have the consolation that Chett seems to be the prologue POV, and thus far we're 2-for-2 in the prologue POV characters biting the big one.

...now that I've said it he's not going to die, is he? :(

"- and Ser Piggy for the ravens. -"

... !!!! STAY AWAY FROM SAM YOU ASSBUTTS!! Also don't call him that, you fatphobic piece of trash.

Gosh, but they are just DTM (Down To Massacre) their own brothers and colleagues. They clearly skipped the lunch line the day they handed out the character-growth kits.

... So the Watch can see the wildlings and all their equipment, but there's still that disconnect for them, they haven't quiet realised that this isn't an invasion, it's an evacuation.

(Also I have a strong desire to know about their agricultural practices, if they have them, what exactly are the free folk's dietary trends? How much snow is there on the ground north of the Wall? Do they get any kind of summer-like weather? are there any crop plants (other than pine trees) or is it all meats and meat products?)

Just as an aside, every time I see Thoren Smallwood's name, my brain skips over to the Hobbit fandom, and I think "insufficiently Majestic and lacking in Swagger, you do not deserve the name Thoren, you are no Oakenshield."

Chett is now found guilty of murdering a girl who didn't want to have sex with him, plotting mutiny, being an asshat in general, and animal abuse.

*smacks him with the steel chair into a crevasse* sit with yourself and reflect. or perish. actually, maybe perish anyway?

"We'll never find that one, and I'll be blamed," announced Edd Tollett, the dour grey-haired squire everyone called Dolorous Edd. "Nothing ever goes missing that they don't look at me, ever since I lost my horse. As if that could be helped. He was white and it was snowing, what did they expect?"

HA! oh Edd, I adore you. wait... Edd has a last name? huh. cool beans.

Aww, Grenn being supportive of Sam's efforts. That's good friending Grenn. Keep going Sam, you're doing great! (Archery is hard, and it requires far more arm strength and stability than people think. And that's just assuming you're using the correct draw hand for your eye. I myself am left eye dominant, which means I need to draw the string with my left arm... or I used to, before my shoulder got a little messed up. It's mostly fine, just a little chronic pressure build up that makes it very hard to do archery now.)

YES! Sam hit the target!!!! YAY!!!! 🎉

...Stop ruining the moment, Chett!

"You hit a tree," Chett said. "Let's see how you shoot when it's Mance rayder's lads. They won't stand there with their arms out and their leaves rustling, oh no. They'll come right at you, screaming in your face, and i bet you'll piss those breeches. One o' them will plant his axe right between those little pig eyes. The last thing you'll hear will be the thunk it makes when it bites into your skull." The fat boy was shaking. Dolorous Edd put a hand on his shoulder. "Brother," he said solemnly, "just because it happened that way for you doesn't mean Samwell will suffer the same." "What are you talking about Tollett?" "The axe that split your skull. Is it true that half your wits leaked out on the ground and your dogs ate them?"

eheheh. Have I mentioned I adore Edd? (also, ngl, for the first bit, I thought Edd was accusing Chett of pissing himself the first time he faced true combat.)

Dywen clacked his wooden teeth. "No wolves neither. There was before, but no more. Where'd they go, you figure?" "Someplace warm," said Chett.

*squints* I have the strangest sense Jon Snow in the show said basically that same line. "Where will you go?" / "Somewhere warm." It's only tangentially funny because he also is a wolf.

... It's kind of fascinating, how Chett and his ilk cast Sam so readily as the craven, which to be fair, even Sam casts himself that way, but then we look at what's happening here, with Chett and the desertion crew, and they themselves are committing a craven act.

Like yes, we all know the Night's Watch is technically like 90+% a militarized penal colony at this point and not a volunteer monk army, and it is understandable to want to run away from that when your own heinous actions gave you two choices "die now or live in isolation on the frostiest of walls" only to discover the second option was actually just "die later while cold," but desertion and mutiny in the face of uncomfy conditions and war is an act that Chett would absolutely call craven, if he weren't the one doing it.

Snow caked his beard all around his mouth. Where did that come from, with Bessa?

.... ohhh... Chett's mental train is running kinda sluggish... brain lag in the clod snow, now where have we heard that before? *squints in Suss AF*

NO! Stay away from Sam!

Yes! Good job who ever blew the horn! Exc-elent... tiiiming oh no. horn means stuff.

"Three," he squeaked to Chett, "that was three, I heard three. They never blow three. Not for hundred and thousands of years. Three means-" "-Others." Chett made a sound that was half a laugh and half a sob, and suddenly his small clothes were wet, and he could feel piss running down his leg, see steam rising off the front of his breeches.

well. shit. that's not good.

neither is Chett surviving the prologue. :( but hey, at least his accusations of Sam wetting himself in fear came back to bite him in the ass. or, well, frostbite in the somewhere when the pee gets cold.

It's been so long since I've seen the relevant part of the show, I feel like this timeline is different from the show? I'm pretty sure the mutiny happened before the Others got near the remaining members of the Watch, but also i feel like the group was smaller and the party split? Meh, I'll rewatch it at some point, probably.

[alpaca-clouds]

For Trevor:

☆ ♥

☮ - re: Greta, mainly :)

Okay, let's do this. Again, this is for this ask meme.

Happy headcanon for Trevor

Trevor is a really good dad and paternal figure. Like, he is actually really good at it, even if he does not even realize it. And he also is super happy to be a dad. He loves all three of his kids completely and does the same for those other kids that kinda fell into his arms. He is the dad to have fun with the kids, to laugh with them, but also to hold them in his arms when they are crying.

Wait, I gotta share this stellar parenting moment from Closure with you. Context: Marie (at this point almost 7 years old) complains about the English food being not seasoned a lot.

Sypha got up. “I will get some more bread for Marie.” She shot their daughter a stern look. “I hope bread is alright for the young lady.”

“Bread is fine,” the girl pouted.

While Sypha went to the front of the inn, Trevor sniffed his ale. “You know, I agree with you, Marie.”

“Don't encourage her, Trevor,” Adrian groaned.

“But she is right! The food tastes of nothing! And so does the ale.”

“You liked ale once.”

“Yeah. I did. Because beggars can't be choosers. But I am not a beggar anymore, am I?”

“Oh, so Sir Trevor Belmont has become too much of a nobleman for some simple ale?” At least this got a bloody smile from their dhampir companion. That was hard enough work these days.

“Yeah, apparently I have been.” Trevor straightened out his back and imitated the speech of those fucking nobles. "I would like some proper beer, if you'd please. One brewed no longer than 50 days and no shorter than 35, with hobs from the Nuremberg sort."

This even earned him a snort, both from Marie and Adrian. Only Simon seemed unimpressed.

“What ale?” he asked.

“Ale is a lesser beer,” Trevor explained. “One with less taste.”

“I am sure there will be proper beer to be found around here as well,” Adrian said still smiling. “We'll just have to ask around. They have an abbey after all.”

Trevor gave a melodramatic sigh. “I will need to. I might die of thirst otherwise.”

Marie was still laughing. “You can still drink water!”

“Simple water cannot quench my noble thirst!”

“Well, I guess you'll have to die then!” his daughter announced.

Another dramatic sigh. “Alas.” He closed his eyes and let himself sack against the bench, making her giggle even more. Squinting showed him that it got a grin out of his dear bastard. So, it was worth something.

“He's dead,” Marie giggled and poked him into the side. “Dead!”

Sypha returned to the table. “Who is dead?”

“Trevor died of thirst because he can't drink the stupid ale,” Adrian explained.

Sypha, of course, was not impressed. “He'll have to make due with water then.”

Trevor grunted. “You are no fun,” he accused.

Family headcanon for Trevor

Alright, well, Trevor's family. Let me go full circle here.

As a kid on the Belmont estate Trevor lived there with his paternal grandmother, his parents, his aunt and uncle, three siblings (two younger sisters and one older brother), as well as three cousins (two of them male, one female, though the later was only two years old at the time the fire happened). He was very close to one of the cousins, his older brother and the sister closest to him in age. Yes, they all have names - but I won't look through the documents to search for all of them now. xD But, so, year, in total 9 people died during that fire. And yes, only nine. Because technically both his uncle and his older cousin survived. But... they did not do so for long. It was autumn, when the fire destroyed the estate, and his cousin just died of the coughs in the coming winter, because they could not pay for medicine while laying low. And his uncle got killed the next summer by a werewolf. Leaving Trevor on his own. Which was then when he decided to go to Targoviste, because a kid just does not survive on the streets alone.

Now, his own family then is... a bit complicated. Of course he gets married to Sypha and Adrian and they do have three kids on their own: Marie (who is the oldest and the kid Sypha is pregnant with by the end of the series), Simon (Adrian is the father of him, though that does not really matter to anyone) and Anna (the question of fatherhood is never solved and nobody cares enough to try).

Marie then marries one of Greta's two kids, Ilias, and has four children with him. Though I only know the second youngest of those is named Elisabetha (after Dracula's first wife).

And then there is Simon, who... is doing well with precreating, so to speak. Now, given he is a dhampir, he is fully grown age 12 and manages to become a father age 13. And... Uhm, well, let's put it like this: Nobody is entirely sure how many kids Simon has fathered in the end. Because he is very, very enthusiastic about sticking his dick into everyone who cónsents. So, uhm... Trevor has a lot of grandkids, to put it lightly.

Anna does not procreate as far as my headcanon is right now, because she is a lesbian and has so far not met a trans woman to strike her fancy.

But... of course, then there are the adopted kids of Trevor's. And given the fact that he ends up a vampire in my headcanon and that I might remind you that Trevor, Sypha and Adrian do have an open relationship at some point Trevor also picks up partner's outside the trio (or quartet, counting Greta), from which I know at least of two kids he is gonna have with some other partners. Uhm... Look, immortality and relationship anarchy make for a lot of possible procreation, alright?

Friendship headcanon for Greta

Alright. As I said before, I headcanon Greta as aro but bisexual. She has a queerplatonic relationship to the entire trio of course and that friends with benefits thing going on with Sypha. She also has quite a few friends within the village. Most notable of course the local butcher, who is rather close with her (again: I would need to look up the name).

She in general is good at making friends, because she is just very open hearted and just easily talks with other people. So she just... gets along with most people. (Somewhere there is a half-started story about her and the midwife, but for that I would first have to translate the Simon birth story and........ look, I have a lot of stories, alright?)

She is also very close with Marie, aka the oldest Trephacard-child, who becomes her apprentice, when she gets older.

[unma]

Uh, mentions of suicide (not attempted, but considered) and suicidal ideation under the cut I guess. And lots of talk about my depression. And a bit of oversharing. Did I say this blog wasn't for venting? Well, I'm unpacking these things as I write them so please be kind with me, okay?

Still thinking about my memory and how it's gone from me being proud of remembering the most specific stuff to barely being able to remember anything past a certain point save for really specific mostly intensely painful (usually mental) periods of my life.

I don't think it's memory issues (or at least the kind where I'm simply incapable of actually recalling things or putting moments into long term memory). I just think that there isn't much for me to remember in my day to day life outside of the internet.

I spend most of my time moping around, looking forward to the day where I'll be free of everything that has plagued me. The optimism younger me had about leaving this life behind and becoming a new me is gone, replaced with a me that has accepted the reality that it would be a long struggle to get to that day that I'm happy. I already had to pull myself out of the pit that was wanting to actively end it all, and now I wallow in despair wondering if it'll happen anyway.

it was only weeks ago (or perhaps months? Time has begun to blur for me since forever ago) that I found out I had friends who were glad I wasn't dead. IRL friends, in specific, as I wasn't too open about my struggles online, for obvious reasons. I mean, I was also gone from this blog for a year or 2 due to related matters, so obviously no one online would know about any of this since I wasn't here.

Back on track, I had a classmate of mine call to see if I was still okay and doing fine. I wouldn't call him that close of a friend—he's the type of person who's an asshole on purpose but friendly enough, so you can tell when he's taking a piss and when he's being genuine, but he doesn't pull it off nearly as well as a much closer friend of mine—but he was one of the few I'd let know that I wanted to die. Even though I'd made it clear ages ago that I wouldn't ever pick up a knife, he was still glad to know I was okay. And upon mentioning that to others who knew about my woes, they all responded that they too were glad that I was doing okay. It felt nice to be cared for.

So it's a shame that the only way I can talk to any of these people is online.

There isn't much for me to look forward to offline. My family's awful, as you can probably tell from today's posts, I hate most of the people I know in church (not to mention that being agnostic and having a horrid experience with the church growing up makes that place a living hell to be in) and there's nowhere for me to go outside. Not to mention it's way too hot. No really, I tried to go for a walk outside today and didn't even make it an intersection before the sun made me turn back. And I'm the one who used to wear hoodies in the blaring sun before I moved. It's way too hot here in the summer.

Every time I try to improve something about myself, be it my posture or not spending all my time in my room, I'm reminded ever so swiftly of why I'm like this now. At some point I resolved to sit in the living room often, but every evening my dad would come home and yell about something that had gone wrong, and because I was the only one nearby I'd be the only one subject to that yelling. And then I remember the reason I never left my room was because child me realized that greeting my mom when she came home from work was never worth it because she would 100% send us to do chores. And she wondered why no one ever greeted her when she came home anymore.

There's a lot of things the internet has done to me that would make me wish I got on here when I was older. But it pales in comparison to how much good it's done for my life. How much it's shaped me into a much better.

And the fact that I'm still alive, I guess.

I think often about how my dad once told me he knew me better than I knew myself. Back then I thought "Do you know your son doesn't want to live anymore?" I still wonder if he'll ever find out. If he'll ever realize that the pressure he and my mom placed on me to get better academically, even as I was one of the best performing students and simultaneously already struggling to keep up with the stress from maintaining those scores. I wonder if they'll ever understand that the hate I feel for them is not childish rage at not getting my way—not a rage that will fade as I grow older and wiser in life—but a deep hatred that will never fade until I'm free of them forever.

I wonder if they'll ever realize that they were horrible parents. Even now they're constantly blindsided by the effects of their own bad parenting. Effects that I, the oldest child, continued to point out to them when they first showed up. Things that I very clearly told them needed to be corrected.

Perhaps the fact that I had to point out that they were failing at being proper parents to my younger sister constantly as I grew up is just another sign of my shitty upbringing. One in which I was forced to learn to be mature at a young age. To be the smart one. Above breaking the rules, above being playful and immature. Perhaps it's no wonder in the end that I simply stopped caring, when fun was something I continually had to fight for, and stress was simply the norm. Even now, as I think back on my past, most of what I remember was the time and effort I spent. How proud I was to pull an all-nighter to finish handwriting my Business Studies notes, as if my rides to school were not already spent frantically catching up on my CRS notes.

My school-assigned advisor once told me that I had to deprioritize writing to spend more time focusing on school-related work. I wonder what he'd think if he found out that writing was perhaps the main reason I decided there was still a point to life. I wonder what my mom would think when she agreed with him.

Oh well, it's not like there's a point in dwelling on that.

Point is, well, there really isn't much for me to look forward to or do, other than eat and sleep. Not to mention that most of the things I can do suck or actively make my mental health worse, which is fun.

As for the point of explaining that? Well, I think the reason I can't remember anything is because there isn't anything to remember, or at least anything good. What's the point of actually remembering things if all there is to remember is enraging conversations and anxious waits for things I dread? Perhaps the reason I don't remember much about my life is simply because I stopped having things to be happy about. Outside of the internet, anyway.

If I have any consolation, it's that I can still vividly remember a lot of my time online, where I had fun and made friends and learned to be myself. And when I put it like that, it feels pointless that I've even slightly worried that I spend too much time online, when there's no reason for me to reduce my time online.

That's all my pondering for now, I guess. Really long post, yeah, but today's event made me think about... a lot of things, I guess.