#and proceeded to bully me so i bullied her back and threatened to block her number. after that we stopped talking for good.

[raamitsu]

I FEEL LIKE IT’S A FATE OR DESTINY FOR ME TO WATCH KIMI NI TODOKE CUZ SAWAKO IS TRULY THE KINDERGARTEN, PRIMARY, HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE ME 😭😭😭😭😭😭

[faulty-writes]

Bully Bakugo & bully highschool mirko w a reader that secretly owns a tiny rabbit?

[ Real talk though, isn't it sad and slightly disappointing what's happening in the manga right now in relation to our little Kacchan? But then again, I've personally been disappointed by the manga before so, haha. Oh well, right? ]

He was always relentless when it came to bullying. Every day you'd be subject to his screaming and physical assault. Though given his anger and the fact he treated his "friends" in a similar way, you often held your tongue and said nothing during the instances he bullied you.

Of course, like anyone with a bullying problem, your negative emotions built up. But there was one solace that helped you put that negativity to use, this happened to be your pet. A small silver-haired rabbit.

"Hey!" Katsuki growled as he pushed you into your locker. "What the hell is this?!" he demanded, pointing at the pictures you had hung of your furry companion on the inside of your locker. Of course, you refused to tell him which made him angrier. "Oh yeah!? Going silent huh? Pff, I'll get you to talk," he threatened before walking away.

In the weeks following, you began to introduce your rabbit to the outside but used precaution and put up the equivalent of a baby gate so your rabbit was free to explore but not escape. "What the hell is this!?" came a voice that caused your blood to run cold, you hadn't expected him to find you outside.

You nearly screamed when Katsuki proceeded to grab your rabbit by the folds of its neck. "Ah, what's the matter? Afraid your little bunny rabbit will get hurt?" he questioned, blocking your attempts to snatch your precious pet back.

"Heh," he grinned down at you, somewhat enjoying the tearful look in your eye due to him withholding your rabbit. Then, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. "I have an idea, you want this furball back then you gotta do something for me," he said and you shivered when you noticed the evil glint in his eye.

Your face was burning red the next day at school when you showed up wearing fake bunny ears and a tail and it was all thanks to Katsuki. Other students laughed as you walked down the wall, except your angry blond of a bully who crossed his arms and smirked in victory.

Something was amiss with you lately, you seemed happier and there was a strange scent on you Rumi couldn't identify but it made her nose twitch and her ears stand up on end. 'What the hell is pretty face hiding? Are they getting too close to someone else!? I'll fix that!' the thought of anyone else being close to you made her angry.

"Pretty face!" she growled, shoving you into a wall under the staircase. "What the hell have you been up to? Stay still!" she demanded, digging her nails into your shoulders as she proceeded to sniff you. She pondered what this scent could be before it finally hit her and she only got angrier.

The thought of you having another rabbit in your life pissed her off and maybe she'd just have to remind you that you were hers and hers alone. She'd be damned if she let anyone else have you, so she devised a plan to torture you until you introduced her to this other rabbit that seemed to be stealing your attention away.

In the following weeks, her bullying tactics doubled. She tripped you in the hall, put tacks on the seat of your desk, dumped food over you in the cafeteria, and made sure every day of your life was a living hell. "Ready to surrender, pretty face?" she questioned with a smirk, what other choice did you have?

Against your better judgment, you took her to your room and introduced her to the silver-haired rabbit you had. Rumi's nose twitched, but she tried to ignore the scent in the air. "Heh, so had to get another little rabbit because I wasn't enough, huh!?" she said, shoving your shoulder.

You panicked when she proceeded to take your rabbit and lift it up to her face, you watched as both their noses twitched rapidly as if silently communicating with each other because suddenly, she grinned and turned to look at you with a mischievous expression.

"So, you like thinking of me as your little pet, eh!?" she demanded, yet again backing you into a wall before slamming her fist next to your head, creating cracks in the foundation. Then she grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you close, "Guess I'll have to teach you better," she growled almost seductively causing you to shiver.

[ravennm84]

Don’t Mess with my Friends, Don’t Mess with my Family

TRIGGER WARNING: This story contains physical, verbal, emotional abuse and talk of rape; please be aware before proceeding. And know that if you are a victim and need help, don’t give up, there are people out there who can and want to help you.

This is a story told from Lila’s point of view, about how down hill her life has gone because of the choices she’s made. Lots of Lila salt to come!! Warm-Fuzzies and please enjoy!!

Life had not been kind to Lila Rossi for many years now. It had all fallen apart during lycee, starting when she had pushed that bitch, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, down the stairs. It had been the first day at their new school and she hadn’t noticed the hall monitor, the teacher, or the security cameras. They had caught video and audio of Lila threatening the girl before giving her a hard push down the stairs. Before she could even say a single thing in her defense, the teacher had grabbed her by the arm and marched her down to the principal’s office to wait for her mother. No matter how many times she tried to lie, the witnesses and video proved that she was the one who hurt Maribrat.

Lila had been suspended for three weeks and later expelled at her hearing after evidence of her harassing the same girl during college had surfaced during the investigation by the Board of Governors. Lila’s mother, had been absolutely furious and had been struggling to find another lycee that would accept her daughter; but the assault, bullying, and forgery of her signature and multiple doctors’ notes were now on her permanent record, making it a struggle.

The next incident occurred two weeks after her expulsion, Hawkmoth had been defeated and unmasked as Gabriel Agreste. That meant no more akumas for her to try and destroy Marinette or Ladybug, no more being a Gabriel model, and no way to force Adrien into being her boyfriend. She had lost her ride to the top.

In fact, with his father out of his life, Adrien seemed to have grown a spine and did a tell-all on TVi News a few days later. He admitted how his father seemed to change after his mother “disappeared”, how he tried to do anything and everything to please him, but it was never enough. He talked about the long hours on photoshoots, which were against child labor laws, and the way his diet had been strictly monitored. How he’d considered it a large victory to finally go to school, but that freedom was constantly under threat by his father if anything went wrong.

Then he went into the first time something did go “wrong”, when he had borrowed his father’s book to look over it, only for it to be stolen. 

“You say ‘stolen’, do you know who did that?” Nadja Chamack asked him.

“Yes, I do. Her name is Lila Rossi and she has been the bane of my existence since the day I met her.”

Lila was speechless as she and her mother watched the news. She wanted to hide in her room but her mother kept her in her seat as they continued to watch Adrien vent his grievances about her.

“She stole the book from me and threw it away after she got what she wanted out of it. If my friend, Marinette, hadn’t seen her take the book in the library and then throw it in the trash, it might have ended up in a landfill somewhere. She then claimed to be the holder of the fox miraculous and Ladybug’s best friend. Only Ladybug, herself, showed up a couple minutes later because she had seen Lila’s fake interview on the Ladyblog. She told her to stop lying since it was dangerous and she hated liars. I can’t even be mad at Ladybug for calling her out, since she was right.

“After that, Lila practically became a stalker. She followed me everywhere, lied to people about how close we were, lied about one of my best friends, Marinette, to isolate her since she knew Lila was a liar, lied her way into my house and got Nathalie and my bodyguard in trouble, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. She started working with Gabriel to keep an eye on me.” Adrien practically spat his father’s name, looking absolutely hurt and disgusted as he continued on. “He made me start working with her while she kept trying to isolate me from my friends, telling him who the ‘bad influences’ were in my life, and telling everyone that we were in a relationship. I couldn’t even contradict her because she threatened me!”

“How did she threaten you?” Nadja asked, her voice full of concern when she saw Adrien shaking.

“Told me that if I didn’t do everything she said and agreed with her when she lied, she would get me pulled out of school again. I didn’t realize how bad it could be, but then she started tou-touching me and kissing me without my permission. When I told her to stop, she’d grab my arm and dig her nails in until I bled, I’ve still got scars from all the times she grabbed me too hard.”

Lila really wanted to be anywhere else but sitting beside her angry mother at this point. Everything Adrien was saying maybe true, but there was no actual proof. Those scars could have been caused my anyone and she had never written down any agreement with-

“The only thing I could do was get proof of what she was doing, so one of the times when Lila was forcing herself on me, I had a camera going in my dressing room. I even made sure to have the manager put up signs that the area was under video surveillance so it would stand up as evidence in court.”

Well, shit.

“With your permission, Adrien, may I play the recording.” Nadja asked him, her voice gentle and reassuring. Taking a breath, Adrien nodded while closing his eyes and covering his ears.

The recording showed Adrien getting his shoes on in his dressing room before standing quickly and backing away when the door opened. “What are you doing in here, Lila? I’m trying to get dressed.”

“I don’t mind, there’s nothing wrong with a girlfriend seeing a little more of her boyfriend,” Lila purred as she stepped into the frame.

Adrien took a step back. “We’re not dating, and I’m not comfortable with you being here. Now get out.”

Lila gulped, remembering this day. It hadn’t struck her as strange at the time why Adrien seemed to be talking back to her more than normal, and she had taken her anger out on him. Now it all made perfect sense…

The video showed Lila stomping over with a cruel grimace on her face before she roughly pushed him against the wall. She then proceeded to dig her nails into the soft parts of his arms. “I think you’ve come to the delusional conclusion that you actually have a choice in the matter, Adrien~,” her voice continued to purr, but the angle of the video showed a threatening gleam to her eyes. “Unless you do what I say, you can kiss everything good in your life goodbye. You’ll go back to being homeschooled; your little friend, Marinette will be expelled again and it will stick this time, I’ll even tell everyone that you tried to rape me and people will believe it because I’m a girl.”

Lila dug her nails in harder, causing Adrien to whimper before she leaned in to give him, what the audience saw as a forceful, sloppy kiss.

“Hurry up now, we don’t want to keep the photographer waiting.” Lila said in a sing-song voice before skipping out of the room.

Adrien took a few breaths before looking at the camera and stepping closer. Pulling up the sleeves of his shirt, the video clearly caught the nail marks that were already bleeding and forming bruises before the video stopped and returned to Adrien and Nadja. “That is only one of multiple incidences where Lila hurt or forced herself on me. I tried talking to my fa- to Gabriel  about what she was doing, but he only told me that Lila would be a ‘good match’ for me and that I should consider dating her. Now that he’s out of my life, I want everyone to know the kind of people both of them are. I refuse to let Lila Rossi have any more power over me. I’ve already filed police reports and a restraining order, given them the video recordings, and sworn statements. Even if it feels like I’m running away from my problems by doing this, I never want to see either of them ever again!”

The rest of the interview became background noise as Mrs. Rossi began screaming at her daughter for doing such despicable things, but was interrupted when the police came knocking on their door a few minutes later. Her mother ordered the police to get Lila out of her sight and that she would be waving whatever diplomatic immunity she may have.

That was eight years ago. Since that night; Lila had stood trial for her crimes against Marinette and Adrien, was found guilty, and had been deported back to Italy where she served seven years of a 10 year jail sentence. Now that she was out, all she could think of was the same thing that had been on her mind since that night, destroying Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste. First thing she did was look them up on the internet at the library, since she didn’t have a job, laptop, or smartphone anymore. 

Adrien was reported to be living a quiet life at an undisclosed location in France. He’d quit modelling, sold off his father’s company, and had graduated from a private lycee with his close friend, Marinette. Lila tried contacting her followers from college to discern his exact location, but many had changed their numbers. Those who hadn’t, hung up the moment they figured out she was calling and then blocked her number. Deciding to save finding Adrien for another day, Lila decided to focus on Marinette. That bitch was a lot easier to trace; and the more she read, the angrier she got. 

Marinette had become well known as a designer; becoming the go-to girl for musicians, movie stars, and the powerful elite. There were multiple articles on her clothes, how they were always praised and seen as the new wave of fashion. She had won countless awards and had founded her own fashion house two years earlier! Lila recognized one of the models as that quiet, goth freak, Juleka. That girl had been named the top female model three years in a row! Lila quickly decided that she would take the time to ruin that girl’s life as well, once she was done with Maribrat.

More research showed that Marinette also did charity work; including multiple high end donations, school sponsorships, and there was even a video clip of her standing with Rose and Prince Ali doing a ribbon cutting at a children’s hospital in Achu. The look of pure happiness on both of the women’s faces made Lila’s teeth grit so hard they almost cracked.

But the worst, the absolute worst thing she read was an article in which Marinette talked about balancing her career and family life. The bitch hadn’t married Adrien, it was a small comfort, but not much. Instead, she had married Luka Couffaine, Juleka’s older brother. He’d made a name for himself as an international rockstar, only rivaled by his father, Jagged Stone. Reading his list of popular songs, Lila’s anger swelled when she realized that she’d heard more than a few of those songs over the radio in prison. The two had a blissfully happy marriage, no scandals or anything that Lila could use against them. They even had a child! A little girl named Melody that looked to be three years old.

Lila had never hated Marinette Dupain-Cheng… Marinette Couffaine, more in her entire life! The bitch had the life that should have been Lila’s; rich, famous, respected, and with a handsome/rich husband. Even her brat daughter looked cute. SHE HATED IT!

She was five seconds away from screaming and punching out the computer screen when she saw the most recent article. Marinette and her family were coming to Milan, Italy next week for Fashion Week. She was going to be showing her autumn and winter lines and was scheduled to be one of the biggest shows of Fashion Week.

A cruel smile stretched across her lips as her mind was already forming a plan, but things would be different this time. She wasn’t going to stop with just hurting Marinette or ruining her reputation. No, this time, nothing would satisfy Lila other than that bitch’s life.

~oOo~

In the days leading up to Fashion Week, Lila had made her way to Milan and staked out the airport to wait for her prey to arrive. She watched the arrival of every limo that came, day and night, until the family arrived. When she saw them, she sneered at how sickly-sweet they appeared. Luka held his guitar case in one hand, Marinette held her purse on her opposite hand, and their daughter was giggling between them, holding both of their hands and wearing a small Ladybug backpack. The little girl giggled as her parents swung her into the air by her hands and they smiled down at her in adoration.

Lila easily followed them to their hotel, stacking it out as she learned their routine. Within three days, she saw how the three of them would have breakfast together every morning before Marinette would walk to the venue where her show would be held a couple blocks away, while Luka stayed with their daughter. Luka and Melody would go to the venue later in the day to pick her up, and then they would walk back to the hotel together. Deciding to make her move on the fourth day, Lila stole a decent sized kitchen knife from a restaurant and waited half way down the second block during the morning.

Sure enough, Marinette came strolling down the sidewalk, seemingly without a care in the world. However, there was a slight difference today, her daughter was holding Marinette’s hand as she sang one of her daddy’s songs. Lila barely pondered for a second if she should hold off on killing Marinette until the little girl wasn’t around, but immediately disregarded the thought. If nothing else, she could kidnap the girl while leaving the bitch with just enough life to hear her daughter screaming for mommy. That would be even better!

So, brandishing her knife, Lila jumped away from the the building she’d been leaning against to kill her hated enemy and get revenge for ruining everyt-

The next thing Lila knew, was waking up to an EKG machine beeping to her right, her left arm handcuffed to the bed, and her entire body hurt. Her right arm and right leg were both in casts and she could feel a large bandage on her head. She would find out later, when speaking to her court appointed attorney, exactly what had happened to her. And it wasn’t because he told her, oh no, it had all been caught on another damn surveillance camera.

Lila had jumped from her spot with the knife, only for Marinette to push her daughter behind her, grab Lila’s wrist on the third swipe, and break her elbow over her knee to force her to drop the knife. When Lila had continued to attack her; Marinette had kicked her in the side of the knee, dislocating her kneecap, and then punched her in the face so hard that she’d flown backwards and was knocked unconscious when her head hit the street. There were also dozens of witnesses to the attack, all claiming that Lila had a mad look in her eyes and that Marinette had been fighting like a mama bear protecting her cub. 

The lawyer then told her that he would defend her to the best of his ability, but that her case didn’t look good. She had violated her parole, violated the restraining order, and was being charged with stalking and two counts of first-degree attempted murder. 

Days later, while still handcuffed to her bed in the hospital, nearly every news channel was showing Fashion Week. And who had the biggest show with the most coverage? Maribrat, that’s who! The critics couldn’t get enough of her fashion lines or the recent attack on her and her daughter. 

To Lila’s never ending frustration, Marinette stayed calm and demure the entire time as her daughter cuddled her side and Luka kept a supportive arm around her shoulder. “I’ll admit, the attack happened so fast, all I could do was react. I just kept thinking that this person had a weapon and might hurt my baby, so I attacked and didn’t stop until she was down. It wasn’t until she was unconscious that I recognized her as Lila Rossi, a girl from my past that had done a lot to try and hurt me and my friends. Last I knew, she was in jail and I had a restraining order filed against her. This time, I have a team of lawyers at my disposal and I’m going to make sure that she’ll never be able to even try to hurt my family or me ever again.”

Just like that, sales for Marinette’s brand skyrocketed, with critics describing her as a strong woman designing clothes to empower people around the world. 

Lila lost her case, the lawyer had attepmted to argue that it was never her intention to hurt the child, but no one believed it. She was forced to finish her previous sentence, and had a life sentence added on top of that. And because she had broken her parole to stalk and try to kill Marinette Couffaine, she was denied the possibility of parole ever again. 

Taglist:

@animegirlweeb  @iamablinkmarvelarmy

@karokatten  @abrx2002

@delightfulcookiesrecipespizza  @unmaskedagain

@insomniac-nerd-posts-things

[miraculous786]

The Protector’s Aftermath

Masterlist

"Hello, Ladybloggers! It's Alya here, back with my livestream up and running again!" the reporter greeted, before scoffing, "I had to cut my other one off at the insistence of that Fox hero wannabe."

From off to the side, someone politely requested, "Miss? Is it okay if you speak a little quiet-"

"He's such a brat - he doesn't deserve a miraculous," she carried on, as if not hearing the paramedic. "I mean, what about Rena Rouge? Shouldn't she be here to help instead of him?"

She adjusted the glasses resting on her nose, then began to talk again. Her tone was much more excited as she enthused, "Anyway, I'm here with a big scoop!"

Alya pressed a button on the phone to reverse the camera. She pointed it to the girl in front of her.

"I'm here with the amazing Lila Rossi, who not only designed Jagged Stone's new album, but is his honorary niece! Crazy, right?"

The only response was Lila whimpering louder, whilst her sclera were a bright white and her agony was easily visible.

"Miss Cesaire, is now an appropriate time to be recording? It is quite easy to see that your friend is in serious pain."

She turned to the stern voice. It had come from another paredemic. "That's why I'm recording! The whole reason that she's in pain is because of Marinette getting that Protector guy akumatized in the first place. It's obvious that she's working for Hawk Moth."

There were a few guffaws from off to the side, followed by several glares piercing the Italian nearby. However, said Italian was too busy clutching her head to notice.

In a wobbly tone, she pled, "Stop, Hawk Moth, please...I'll do better next time if you just make it stop..."

"Would there be any way to stop the pain, Miss Cesaire?"

"Well, yeah," Alya replied noncommittally. "The akuma said something about admitting to what she's done to Marinette and Felix, but there's nothing for her to say! She's always been so nice to them yet they still bully her."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" the teen snapped. "Why wouldn't I be?"

All of a sudden, a scream tore through Lila's throat. It seemed to echo all around, making everybody in the vicinity wince and cover their ears - trying to block out the shrill shriek.

There were tears in her eyes, as the brunette choked, "Fine! I'll say it...I'll say it!"

"Lila, what-"

"I've made the lives of those two miserable!" she yelled, head up as if talking to the Protector atop the Eiffel Tower. "I spread rumours about them to make their parents think of them as disgraces! As mistakes! And kick them out!"

Alya reared back, as the grip on her phone grew slack.

"I threatened that Mari-Brat in the bathroom to take all of her friends away, and said that she did that to me! I told the class that she bullied me and tried to hit me!"

Some concerned citizens poked their heads into the place that she was in. Their eyebrows rose in curiosity as they listened.

"I got akumatized into Volpina again just so I could hold her hostage - I got that stupid reporter girl to turn into Lady Wi-Fi to help me!"

The female dropped her phone, leaving it to crack by its screen on the ground. The livestream didn't cut off.

Lila heaved a breath, her chest rising and falling at a fast pace. There was a faint burn in her throat, along with a familiar torture beginning to take over her head again.

"Arrgghh, fine!" she growled, before shouting out, "I faked a leg injury to get her in trouble! I planted some cheap necklace and test answers on her to frame her for cheating! I'm the whole reason that Mari-Brat was expelled!"

The white covering her eyes finally disappeared, leaving dilated green orbs to scan about. She exhaled heavily over and over.

That was when a rush of air invaded all present. Colonies of magical ladybugs swarmed in, circling around Lila until her sweat and tears dissipated into thin air.

By that time, Alya had already picked up her phone from the floor. It was pointed straight at the person in front.

"Have anything to say for the camera, Lie-la?"

~*~*~

"...Angel, are you okay?"

"I think we broke her."

"Don't be ridiculous, Adrien. She's merely shocked by the news."

"No sh- crap, I mean. That Lila girl is horrible, what the heck? I'd be a bit dazed too if someone that bad was finally locked up for good."

"Oh no, not again!" a blob of red exclaimed, zipping over to Marinette. It ignored the fact that Nightwing screamed and hid behind Red Hood. "I think a few hugs will help her get out of it."

"Of course they would, Sugarcube. It's not like that works for you as well."

"Plagg!"

Damian and Felix shared a nod, before proceeding to lean into the girl. One wrapped their arms around her waist, and the other, around her shoulders. Together, they provided a cocoon of comfort.

Eventually, she managed to break out of her stupor, to be met with the sight of her two friends embracing her from both sides. She blushed bright and buried her head into the shoulder of Damian, who simply chuckled alongside Felix. Both of their lips twitched upwards.

"Ohoho...I see what's going on here. They're in a relationship, aren't they?"

"No, actually," Adrien responded, watching them have their impromptu cuddle session. "They're all as oblivious as goldfish when it comes to love."

"Aaaannd that's what happens when an emotionally constipated man has adopted you. Well, in Demon Spawn's case, 'given birth to you'."

"Jaybird!"

"What?"

"You mean like my father?"

The two brothers turned to Adrien, making him elaborate, "He never shows emotion and only sees me in person like once a month."

There was a moment of silence.

"...Jesus kid, no. I meant in the way that he just doesn't understand feelings of love since a bunch of girls have toyed with his feelings before. What kind of father do you have?"

"Gabriel Agreste," the model deadpanned.

Dick let out a gasp. "Isn't that the guy who neglects his own son and puts him on such restrictive diets that they're on the border of abuse and- ohmygosh you're his son, you poor thing."

Nightwing enveloped him in a hug, causing him to tense up. However, he soon trailed off into a loud purr, that made everyone in the room face him.

"Holy sh- crap. Selina's gonna love you."

~*~*~

We’re nearing the end! :D

Feel free to give feedback!

@thestressmademedoit  @moonystars14 @northernbluetongue @luciferge @ranger-gothamite @toodaloo-kangaroo @freshbark @drama-queen-supreme​ @gwennex @captainmac6 @virgil-is-a-cutie @aurordraws​ @maribat-is-lifeblood​ @megawhitleycalderonpaganus​ @hauntedwintersweets​ @emo-elaine13​ @bleeding-heart-romantic​ @write-for-your-life2​ @palvine-of-the-alvins @schrodingers25​ @mariae2900​ @vivilakitty​ @thyladyanput​ @2sunchild2​ @kittyanonymity​ @bee-wrecker​ @soupfilledboots​ @queenmj10​ @i-will-be-your-ace​ @darkthunder1589​

[queerlyhalloween]

Not to sound like the joker™️ but i hate western society. I know that hair and clothes aren't gendered, so do most of my mates, ive been working hard at unlearning the internalized transphobia that's just a part of being trans in the UK and actually ALLOWING myself to think about going on hormones and dressing in ways other than "ambigious as possible" despite the fact im non-binary

i grew myself a little mullet because ive not been working in the pub and wanted solid snake hair, ive allowed myself to look at my face and the long hair around it and not despair because i know that longer hair doesn't make me a woman, but the moment you go into a shop, or get takeaway or pass by people in the street its all "move out the way of this lady!" and "thank you, ma'am"

i dont want the gender option of 'other' on my ID i want to know 1 good reason why gender should be listed on an ID in the 1st place

ive just come back from the range and i had my hair up like some e-thot fuckboy, i had to go BACK to the range because they got my click and collect order wrong so ive got two members of staff looking over my order, im dressed in black jeans and a black masc-looking ripped shirt, mask covering half my face and as the manager's showing the kid who served me the receipt they go "oh I served that guy earlier" and the manager corrects them "its a lady". I say "im niether" and they both just stare at me like im a toddler. Im already panicking because the air feels the same way it did when some cunt came after me in the pub toliets. "dont worry about it :)" i say, they both turn back to the tills and completely ignore me.

Anyway, micro-aggressions, ive experienced a lot of them for many reasons over the course of my life and today ive decided to snap.

Not at the people in the range like, just in general.

I will never pass. That's just an element of trans euphoria i will never get to experience. Not right off the bat, anyway. Not where i live, and most likely not in my lifetime. Maybe for kids in LA or Brighton, and hey power to you guys man im happy for you, but people assume or guess m/f when they look at me and they will never get it right.

So when i see people on this site try and twitter etc rank "who's the most oppressed"™️ like a godamn smash bros tier list it blows my mind because of all the things you could spend your days doing thats what youre expending energy on?!

You could be the exact same age, race, sex, gender, sexuality, you could have the exact same disabilities, mental health conditions and money in your bank as another person on this site and you'd still never understand what they've been through. Our experiences, our families, our morals and lives are always gonna be different and the moment you try to write definitive rules on whose got it worse you've already lost and you're already wrong. Oppressed classes are not a fucking hivemind and pretending they are is only going to cause you more problems. I get the strong sense that some of you looked at the word intersectionality, went "ah yeah, i know what that means" having never read up on the matter, then proceeded to play the pain olympics.

And its creating a culture where kids feel the need to spills their souls online to justify living their lives!

You've not listed your disabilites in your bio so you're able-bodied. You're Irish but haven't listed your race so you're white. You're cis man so you've never played with gender and suffered as a result. You're asexual so clearly you're a cringeworthy baby who's never experienced a wrong-doing in their life.

The reverse is true too, if you list every aspect of yourself then you're automatically honest. The more opressed you are the less likely you are of causing harm to others. Psht, don't have a carrd in this day and age? What are you, a fraud? cishet white man playing make believe? Post a selfie or face the wrath of ozymandaus. What's privacy? It takes me 3 minutes to read the bio on this discourse side-blog so clearly they're an angel.

my mam abused me for years, she did the same to my brother when i left home at 18 and my dad drank himself to death. My nan, his mother, never believed me because my mam's a disabled woman with a lot of trauma, and at 14 how do you explain to the woman who takes you to the beach that it's WORSE because as she's beckoning you to the side of her bed so she can scream point blank in your face, or hit you, you're never truely sure, you're thinking about running away because of course she physically can't chase you but she can throw. And then where would you go if you did buggar off?

"You have to sleep sometimes" she used to say to me when I'd piss her off. Other days she told me horror stories about kids in care, and disabled people having their kids taken away, made me promise that I'd always love her and always be her baby, and I'd do that for her because she's my mam, she'd be satisfied then ignore me for a while. I grew up thinking that was entirely normal until i'd tell funny family stories at school and nobody would laugh. The closest I got to truely running away was when I changed my name and pronouns and her rejection, turned to vitriol one night and I so, so, nearly held a knife to my throat and simply fell forwards in the uni showers. Obviously I didn't do that.

But she's had a shitter life than me thus far so she's in the right, as the online black/white dichotomy states. I keep her at arm's length but I'm unable to cut her away without losing the rest of my family because I dared defy the role of eldest child and care for her as I've done my whole life, as is expected.

we need to take things on a case by case basis, and learn when stuff is none of our business.

"Hey! :) I see you've reclaimed (X) slur, without submitting the proper paperwork. Real quick tell me every trauma you've ever experienced or I'll write a callout post :) delete this anonymous message (as is your right) and i'll assume you as sus ❤"

you can only call yourself a dyke if on your 13th birthday, the moon's tender rays struck you through your bedroom window and gave you your first wet dream about girls.

Great, cool. I have no interest in calling myself a dyke, i cant call myself a lesbian because it makes me dysphoric, thats why im queer, but i can assure you that when 3 kids from catholic school pinned me under the bridge and threatened to cut me open for being a "dirty dyke tramp" they didn't play 20Qs with me first to check that i was actually a lesbian.

if your first thought is "well thats just misdirected homophobia, so youre not ACTUALLY a victim" log the fuck off and consider what's wrong with you. Because all our oppressors care about is sniffing out the wrong on you and beating it out, they dont care what breed of wrong it is.

so you're going to spend your day, the enlightened adult that you are, frothing at the mouth because some 15yr old dared call themselves butch despite them being OnLY a BiSexUAl? You're gonna say that trans woman deserves to be suicidal because yes she may be trans BUT she's from the UK, so clearly she loves her horrid country and government. You're gonna say that black lad deserves racial abuse because he's trying to focus on his studies rather than go to protests. That 19yr old who's living in poverty deserves it because they work for Amazon. Texans deserve to freeze to death because there are republicans in Texas.

You're going to harass a complete stranger coming to terms with the parts of themselves society has taught them are worthless at best because they're not doing it the way YOU think is right.

This post has not ended where I started it but I really dont care:

Some of you are so fucking desperate to be the bullies you never got to be in secondary school and it shows. But you're cowards. You can't just admit you want to divide and concur so you do it in a new woke way and when your time on this earth is done, you'll have commited the same pain that's been dealt to you and wonder why you died miserable in a world thats more or less the same.

okay to reblog but dont @ me for a debate because i have, like, real problems and will just block you

[watchingminecraftyansim]

Post 1, Episode 1: The First Step On Our Journey

Hi, I’m Isabelle, or Spar-kie on Tumblr and Twitter, and I’ve decided to watch through all of the Minecraft Yandere Simulator Roleplay series by Samgladiator on YouTube, but you knew that already, and I feel like the first post here should serve as an introduction of sorts, not just to me, but to the important characters in the series, as well as talking about the first episode. 

First there’s me, but there’s not much to say about me, I’m a trans gal who makes poor decisions, if you wanna know more about me I have personal stuff you can follow.  As for the series, it is based loosely off of Yandere Simulator, to the point that one would think that it was just put in the title to get more views, and if I had to venture a guess the scenery was built by Grian of Wynncraft and Craftedmovie fame and more recently, Hermitcraft, as he later appears in the series as a third protagonist, along with our two main protagonists, Samgladiator and Taurtis. Sam and Taurtis are two students at an unnamed highschool In Japan, Sam wears a bunny hood in addition to his school uniform, where Taurtis wears headphones and suspenders, and his face is almost exactly :| . In these episodes Sam is the more sane out of him and Taurtis, although they are both fairly normal, with the exception of Taurtis saying “don’t worry, they’ll never catch me” when Sam says there’s reports of a serial killer on the TV. Taurtis is also the more outgoing and social of the two, with him managing to make more people like him via the amazing technique of insulting less people than Sam, and also generally being more socially competent, but we’ll talk about that in the episode summary proper. Speaking of which…

The Episode starts off with Sam and Taurtis waking up and getting ready for their first day at school, it’s implied that they’ve gone to this school before with it being their 2nd year, but they know none of their classmates or teachers, so you can pass your own judgement on that, and on their way they meet JtsTheStar, or as I will be referring to him from here on out, Jay. Jay hits it off really well with Taurtis and Sam and they walk to the convenience store near the school before school starts, here Taurtis buys himself some Mountain Dew and Doritos, a lunch of Gamers. Then Sam and Taurtis spot a GameCube (or GameCrab, if you wanna use the terminology the shopkeeper used.) and Taurtis exchanges his IPhone and Sam’s doritos for it, even though Taurtis has like 8 bags of doritos. The shopkeeper is also a crab man, this isn’t relevant to anything, I just thought it was worth mentioning. This also is where we meet another major character, KawaiiInvader, a girl, but get this crazy thing, she has a beard, and Taurtis and Sam treat this with respect and… nah I’m fucking with you, they make fun of her, some things in this series have aged like a fine milk.

After trading Sam’s lunch for a GameCube and making him get a carrot so he doesn’t starve, they finally make it to class, and we are introduced to one of the only two people who work at this school, professor Gareth who is the teacher for everything except P.E., or to put it in his words “maths to science, and why my wife left me”, and when he asks for questions after his introduction Taurtis not only asks for his wife’s name but also if she’s single, you read that right, Taurtis wants to get with Gareth’s wife, and then Gareth threatens him with detention, and then Gareth starts everyone’s favorite activity of someone has to go up and introduce themselves to the class and calls on Taurtis. Taurtis pretty much only gets to say his name and that he’s friends with Sam before they go back and forth about how Taurtis is doing a good job at his introduction. Then the bell rings and they have to go to lunch, which starts at 11 for them, which is pretty early, that’s like only an hour after McDonalds stops their breakfast menu, but this could just be the fact that my school makes me wait until one to get lunch, but enough about me. They sit with Jay at lunch and see another Jay, JtsTheDane, or JtsTheExchangeStudent, whom I will be calling Exchange Student Jay, who has a scar across his eye, leading to Sam and Taurtis to wonder how he got it, with Sam daring Taurtis to ask him how he got it. Exchange Student Jay says that he was surrounded by wolves who tried to kill him in his home country, which he proceeded to kill and skin with his teeth. Personally I feel like this, and Exchange Student Jay as a whole, is dope as hell and he should be the protagonist of the series, Sam and Taurtis find this weird and quickly run away, with Exchange Student Jay insisting that he’s a nice guy as they run away. After they rush back to where they were sitting before they notice Sookie, one of the girls, staring at them, Sam being the smoothest motherfucker in existence, confidently walks over to her, makes a weird scream noise, throws a carrot at her, and runs out of the cafeteria, still making the weird screaming noise. Smooth. Unsurprisingly this got the attention of the other students and Sookie just gave Taurtis the carrot instead, probably so he could give it back to Sam. Shortly after that it’s time for P.E., and I didn’t find a good spot to mention this but throughout the entire lunch block Professor Gareth had been spying on Taurtis rather conspicuously. 

Finally we head to P.E. with the only other staff member at this school, RowanArtifex, the stereotypical drill sergeant like gym teacher. Now before we continue, I wanna talk about the gym uniforms in this series, the boys get shorts and the girls look like they’re only wearing the shirt which goes only barely low enough to cover their no no zone, which, given the fact that these are high schoolers, is not good, and is very creepy. What’s also creepy is Rowan typing “mmmmmm” in the chat while watching the students stretch and do jumping jacks. I don’t have anything witty to say in response to that, that’s just weird. Rowan also bullies his students, specifically calling out Sam for being a wimp, and punching his students a couple of times. No wonder this school has like two teachers, they can’t afford more with all of the fucking lawsuits they must get. Rowan then has the class do an obstacle course, which Sam only manages to do once, and Taurtis isn’t able to do before the bell rings signalling the end of the school day. Now, there’s a bath in the boy’s locker room, and assumedly the girls, but we don’t see inside there.  So everyone has to share a bath in their clothes after they get done with working out, and as if to make a bad situation worse gym teacher Rowan comes into the bath with the boys. Sam says he’s gonna talk to the counselor about this and Rowan punches him for that. We also learn that Exchange Student Jay is originally from Norway, which I’m calling bullshit on as his username is JtsTheDane, Dane as in someone from Denmark, I would assume. After we get done with Gym teacher Rowan’s lawsuit building against him Exchange Student Jay asks Sam and Taurtis if they want to hunt deer with him now that school is over for the day, which they decline because they are massive wusses weirded out by this proposition and are going to play their GameCube instead and offer for him to join them in that, to which he declines. When walking home Sam overhears some of the girls talking about how weird he acted and asking Sookie if she knew him, so he tries to face away to hear what they’re saying without them seeing him, which doesn’t work when your main identifying characteristic is a bunny hood that you never take off. They recognize him and he runs home, screaming, with Taurtis in toe. When he gets home Sookie and the girls actually followed them home and sookie asks Taurtis to give Sam some carrots that she was going to give him, while some of the other girls insult him, making Sam sad and the episode ends. Normally at this point I would go on to summarize episode 2, but Episode 1 is roughly twice as long as a normal episode, combined with the fact that this is the first post and I had to add some extra stuff on top of it, making this an already very long post. So, see you next week where we take a look at episodes 2 and 3.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//The Project

Request: Can you do a sweet pea x chubby shy reader?

“Sweet Pea. You’re with Y/n Y/l/n.” Your history teacher announced and you mentally cursed to yourself. You looked up quickly and saw Sweet Pea talking to Toni and Fangs. He glanced in your direction but you looked down before he could do anything. You were shy, liked to keep to yourself and tried to stay out of trouble. However that was more difficult than you thought when practically everyone commented on how you looked. By now you had gotten used to it but their words still stung, and being paired with Sweet Pea, someone who caused trouble with practically everyone he looked at was going to make blending in even more impossible. 

“Its big and bigger. How cute.” A boy behind you muttered and you continued to look down. 

“Which one’s worse though?” His friend asked and they snickered. 

“I suppose he can’t help being tall, she can help how much she eats.” The first one replied and they laughed loudly. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to block them out, digging your nails into your thigh but it was no use. You could still hear them laughing and whispering. 

“Can the two village idiots please shut up. You might strain a muscle if you try to come up with any more lame insults.” Sweet Pea insulted them before sitting down beside you. Your eyes snapped open and you turned your head to look at the boy beside you. He was even prettier up close. 

“Sweet Pea.” He introduced himself. “But you can call me...anytime.” He flirted and you laughed, making him smile. “Much better. They don’t deserve to be able to take your pretty smile away.” He complimented and you blushed furiously. 

“I err. I. Thanks?” You stuttered. 

“He’s managed to tame the beast.” One of the boys commented and you looked down again. 

“Do I need to repeat myself or do you wanna take this outside?” Sweet Pea asked angrily and slammed his fist on the table making them and you jump. They shut up and he smiled sarcastically at them. “Thats what I thought.” He added before turning back to you again. “Sorry for making you jump.” He apologized and you shrugged. 

“Its okay.” You said quietly and looked at him again. He smiled at you before reaching out for his book

“I forgot my text book.” He sighed. 

“Do you wanna share mine?” You asked a blush creeping back onto your face. 

“Sure.” He smiled brightly at you and you nodded. “I was thinking you can research that..” he pointed at a section in the book, “and I’ll do this.” He pointed to another section and his fingers brushed yours. You pulled them back quickly and tried to steady your heartbeat. You only met him properly five minutes ago and you’re already smitten. Get yourself together girl. He’s never gonna like you. Even if you have liked him for a while, thats all it will ever be, a one sided crush from afar.  You thought to yourself.  The rest of the class was spent in silence apart from the few mutters behind you and Sweet Pea asking you a question every so often. As soon as the bell for lunch rang you had gathered your things and were practically sprinting out of the classroom so you could be alone again, however before you had the chance to leave one of the boys that were behind you had pushed the other one into you making you fall over and your stuff go everywhere. 

“I didn’t think she’d move!” Another student laughed loudly. “I thought it’d be like tipping a cow.” 

“Did anyone else feel that? I swear we just had an earthquake.” Another joined in and you started to gather your things quickly, keeping your head down. Once everyone had left you looked up again and saw Sweet Pea staring at you, he handed you the rest of your things that were scattered around the floor and then held his hand out to you to help you up. 

“What?” You asked quietly. “If you’re going to make fun of me can you do it quickly because I have things to do.” You sighed.

“What no. I err. I was going to ask you if you wanted to hang out after school.” He replied and you stared at him. 

“You wanna hang out with me?” You asked confused, you couldn’t believe it. Sweet Pea wanted to hang out with you! Like he actually wanted to spend time with you!

“Well, yeah. We need to. For the project remember.” He replied and you looked down embarrassed. The project, of course. How could you be so stupid to think that he would want to spend time with you willingly. 

“Oh. Yeah.” You replied disappointed. 

“But after we’ve finished the project, I’d still love to hang out with you. You know, if you wanted.” He asked with a smile. 

“Is this a joke?” You asked bluntly and he shook his head. 

“No, of course it isn’t. I like you and I want to get to know you more. Plus you’re cute.” He shrugged and you could see a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“You...you think I’m cute?” You sputtered and he smiled. 

“Yeah. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He complimented and moved closer to you, brushing a piece of hair from your face. 

“Get this! The whale is being asked out.” A voice interrupted your moment and Sweet Pea’s expression darkened. Both of you looked at the door to see a group of students gathered around, at the front stood the stupid boy that sat behind you. You rolled your eyes and moved away from Sweet Pea, but he shook his head and grabbed your hand, pulling you closer to him again. 

“Fuck off Jackson.” Sweet Pea growled and they laughed. 

“What’re gonna about it?” He asked and Sweet Pea moved towards them. You tried to stop him but he brushed you off. “Are you surprised he’s interested in her though. He’s a serpent, he’ll have anyone.” Sweet Pea was now directly in front of him, everyone who was with him had backed away slowly, leaving just Jackson laughing to himself. 

“Do you wanna say that again?” He asked, his tone strangely calm. You knew being partnered with Sweet Pea would make it difficult to try and blend in more than it already was, but this was just taking it to a whole other level. However a part of you didn’t really care, because Sweet Pea thinks you’re cute! 

“Say what? That you’d date anyone who’ll have you. Even if they did resemble a whale?” He asked sarcastically and Sweet Pea pushed him against the nearest wall, his fist pulled back and ready to swing. 

“Sweet Pea.” You said quietly behind him. 

“Its fine. He needs teaching a lesson.” He said through gritted teeth. 

“He’s not worth it.” You replied and put your hand on his shoulder, feeling him relax slightly. 

“If you say one more thing to Y/n, that even just resembles an insult. I swear I will hunt you down and make sure you life is a living hell from then on.” He threatened. He then proceeded to quietly say some, what you assume were very threatening things to him which seemed to get the message across because Jackson nodded before leaving rather quickly, his friends following and asking him what he said. “That goes for your friends too!” Sweet Pea called after him and he moved faster. 

“Thank you. But you didn’t need to do that for me. I’m used to them being mean. I’m chubby and shy, I may as well have a target on my back for every bully to see.” You shrugged and he shook his head. 

“You’re perfect. And I’m not gonna stand by and let a pretty girl be bullied. Especially when what they say is a total lie.” He smiled at you and you looked at the floor. “You should look up more.” He lifted your chin gently with his finger. “More people should be able to see your pretty face.” He added and you blushed. 

“You’re so cheesy!” You laughed and he smiled brightly at you. 

“I know.” He shrugged. “Do you wanna get lunch?” He asked and held his hand out to you. 

“I’d love to.” You replied with a smile and gladly took his hand. Maybe being partnered with Sweet Pea wasn’t such a bad thing. 

[insertclassyusernamehere]

True Life: I worked for a Sociopath

In early 2013, I started a journey with a company that I loved. I was hired on as a sales associate by a strong, powerful and amazing store manager who literally taught me everything I know. She promoted me 6 months in to a lower level management role, and when she got an offer to move onto bigger things in the company, she helped push me into a fulltime management role. Her assistant manager at the time ultimately ended up filling her position as she left, and to be honest, I had no idea what I was in for. I hadn't worked too much with this particular manager prior, and didn't have much of a real raport with her at all. I truly was excited about the change, and everything felt like a new beginning. The first year was pretty rocky in general, but we just chalked it up to us all being new in our roles, and pushed through it until we got onto a schedule. The assistant manager at the time and I were incredibly close, and it was pretty clear to me at the time that she was being bullied and demonized by our store manager, but I thought maybe it was just some kind of personal bad blood between them. The store manager (we will call her Sarah) would talk to associates and other managers behind her back, calling her names, and pointing her fingers at her for anything going awry in the store. Finally, our ASM snapped, and left the company. Sarah told us all that things would be SO Much better without her there "creating hostility". Most of us knew that the former ASM wasn't the problem.

With the separation of our ASM, I was then ushered into the role as a replacement. I was excited. I was excited about a raise, about more responsibility and the growth that I had worked SO hard for. To give you just a little information on my character: I'm a fiery personality, but I'm also incredibly compassionate. I'm a giant mama bear, and I looked at all my employees as my little cubs. With that being said, I was always doing everything with theirs and the stores' best interest in mind. Now at this time, Sarah had A LOT of personal stuff going on. She always did, to be honest. The personal shit never stopped. But, unlike most people who put themselves in a store management position, she used her power to work everything in HER favor so it didn't conflict with her super dramatic life. This meant breaking every rule along the way. She scheduled herself only opening shifts, on a consistent schedule. Every single Sunday off. And when any small thing happened in her life, she just wouldn't show up to her shifts. She would expect me to come in on my days off to cover her shifts on a monthly basis. She made me work doubles covering her shifts more than a few times. If you were not flexible with her, she would tell you that you just needed to take one for the team and would punish you with a cold attitude and talk shit about you behind your back to the rest of the staff. She bullied everyone in the store, but especially the management team. On the other hand, if you were sick and tried to call out... she'd refuse to cover your shift and make you come in anyways. When she wouldn't come in for a scheduled shift, she would just code in PTO for herself and move on with her day. When she was there, she didnt do anything at all. One time she passed out in the back room from pills while our sales lead was on the floor by herself. As fulltime managers we were assigned DORs (departments of responsibility). There was Operations, Talent and Merchandising and they were split between the 3 fulltime managers. My last year with the company, I was working 2 of the 3 while Sarah was doing none. I took more than half of the conference calls. I planned our entire fiscal year. I made ever schedule, did every interview and every new hire onboarding. I was training our keyholder in the merch DOR. When I say that I was literally running a 1.6 million dollar store with no help from my SM, while only making $13hr I AM NOT KIDDING. All the while, anytime I tried to initiate positive change, and enforce standards I was immediately shot down and told "I am not the Store Manger". So essentially - we were failing. At this point I learned that on top of everything I was doing, she was telling everyone else in the store than I was a horrible manager and did nothing. She called me names to people, and even lied to them about crazy shit she claims I did. When I confronted her, she would tell me it never happened. All our employees were quitting left and right because she was literally crazy. She would yell at them on the sales floor and make them cry, force them to stay past their scheduled shifts and the few times she did make the schedule she would schedule them outside of their availability and fuck us over with coverage on the weekend. She manipulated every single person on staff. I left work crying every day.

Now here's where things got fucking psychotic. My keyholder and I had to drive to Tampa for a training certification class, and one thing led to another that ended with us spilling only a small portion of the crazy shit going on in our store. The manager training us empowered us to go to our DM. I spent the night writing and incredibly detailed list of everything she had been doing with help of the rest of the store staff and management team. The next day I called our DM and she was floored. She told me that she was going through HR to get it figured out (this was in august) and while she got in a small amount of "trouble"for a few small things, Sarah was still our store manager and she was bullying us worse than ever. Sarah immediately assumed that I was the one that got her in trouble (even though every single person on staff contributed) and she took it out on me in the worst ways. She denied all of my request offs and had my working every single weekend. Things hit rock bottom after Hurricane Irma hit us on October 2018. We had an emergency close the day before the hurricane touched down because our entire staff was living in evacuation zones and were running out of the state to stay safe from the storm. The night we closed it was me, Sarah and an associate who we will call Ashley. Things were totally normal, low stress and went fairly smoothly. When we arrived back after the storm everything seemed normal. Another week passed, and my husband and I were driving down south to his parents house when I received a call from my DM. In this call she Informed me that my CRAZY BITCH SM told her that on the night of the emergency closing I told her that if we didn't close the store I was going to KILL HER AND HER FAMILY.

WHAT THE FUCK.

She also made the mistake of telling the DM that the associate was a witness. And the DM told her that she needed to have a conversation with me and ask me why I said that. The DM (thankfully) warned me that this conversation might happen, but neither of us thought this bitch was crazy enough to actually lie about something so serious that she claims I said TO MY FACE.

BOY WERE WE WRONG!

She called out of her next shift with me, but then proceeded to come in before hours at 8:30 AM as I was opening the systems, cornered me alone in the stock room, and this bitch looks at me and says "Kianna, do you remember saying anything inappropriate to me during the emergency close?"

Me: No...

Her: Nothing... at all?

Me: Nope. Nothing at all, why?

Her *yelling*: SO YOU DONT REMEMBER THREATENING TO KILL ME AND MY FAMILY??!

ME*completely shocked that she literally said it*: No, Sarah. Seriously? We both know I would never say something like that. I literally dont even use that kind of language jokingly.

Her: Just admit you said it and apologize.

Me: I'm not going to admit to something I didnt say.

Her: Ashley was working she heard you!

Me: Oh really? Ashley happens to be my opener. Let's ask her! If she heard me say that, I will apologize and just accept that I somehow said this horrible thing and blocked it out.

Her *hesitantly*: oh... okay.

When Ashley arrived, we sat her down and Sarah asked her the same uncomfortable question. "Do you remember Kianna saying something incredibly inappropriate and threatening the night we emergency closed?"

Ashley: Uhh... no?

Sarah: So you don't remember her threatening my family's life?

Ashley: UHM, DEFINITELY NOT?!

Sarah: UGH, WELL I HOPE YOU ARE HAPPY, ASHLEY, THAT SINCE YOU WON'T ADMIT THAT SHE THREATENED ME THAT I WILL LOOK LIKE A LIAR TO MY BOSS!

Turns out she then tried to groom Ashley into lying for her by offering her a raise if she lied. Ashley told our DM this. SARAH WAS STILL OUR STORE MANAGER. By the end of October, 3 MONTHS AFTER TURNING HER IN, I was done waiting. I turned in my notice, found a better paying job and left that toxic situation. I left because I felt unsafe in my work environment and despite all my evidence and her threats and her literally lying in hopes to get me fired and arrested I WAS STILL BEING FORCED TO WORK WITH HER.

The day I turned in my notice, I found out I was pregnant with my son. Leaving that toxic environment was the best decision I ever made. KNOW YOUR WORTH, GUYS.

[iglooface]

My whole school career, despite how short it may be thus far, I have always been complimented and received positive remarks about how smart I was and how talented I was. They all find it strange that these are not traits I am proud of.

I grew up with depression, anxiety, and insomnia. My three original traits that have come to rule my life. I inherited mild depression from my mother, and anxiety and insomnia from my father. In all of my years in school except for the last I have been bullied mercilessly for everything about my being. It would vary from my hair, my style of clothing, my physical being, calling me ugly, exclusion, death threats, abandonment, being called names and excessively pointing out my mistakes (surprise! I'm human unlike most bastards I meet). I also had chronic nose bleeds, so from the beginning everyone was always grossed out by me for bleeding from my face nearly every day (most of my clothes are stained with my own blood because of this and I'm honestly too broke to afford new clothes very often). Even teachers and my own parents would put me down for nearly everything I did for one reason or the other; nothing I ever did was right. And to add more I'm often put after my sisters' needs and wants. I've never been prioritized.

I was, and still am, a sickly child. I've technically had my heart stopped and been dead twice before and I had a handful of major surgeries before my sophmore year in highschool. My doctors don't ever listen to me and they think I'm dramatic when I bring up actual chronic symptoms I suffer from.

As a child, we moved around a lot and so I switched schools often and was never able to make or keep friends. I come from a long line of verbally and emotionally abusive teachers who went on without consequence whilst I get in trouble for trying to fix myself. In grade school alone I had all but two of my teachers quit their jobs and/or be replaced after that year, if not during the middle.

Children are highly impressionable, and so these kinds of events did lead up to me thinking it was somehow my fault. Logically I know this not to be true, but impressions and mental illnesses are not logical.

In seventh grade alone, I had gone through 12 different prescriptions for pain and different types of birth control to regulate my period and my chronic cramps. It's highly likely that I had, and still have, endometriosis, yet my doctors are always reluctant to perform any blood tests on me simply because I am young, as if being young makes it entirely impossible for me to have health issues.

My periods were unstable to a point that I'd end up having one for thirteen days, or months apart. Given, young girls with periods often experience irregular cycles, but mine kept landing me in the hospital which is never a good sign.

I was bullied that year to a point that I tried to kill myself and failed, and I managed to avoid my parents finding out. This was the beginning of my incredibly high drug tolerance. At the end of that year, my favorite teacher was killed in a car accident.

The following year, it was found out I had massive ovarian cysts that were increasing my insomnia and put me in agonizing pain nearly every moment of my life. But my doctors refused to take action because I was young. That year I was further emotionally abused by a handful of my teachers. One of them, worse than others, was fired during the beginning of the third trimester of the school year. Her replacement, a long term substitute, was even worse. She had bullied and abused the class so hard that kids had killed themselves and I ended up getting conversion disorder.

Conversion disorder is a mental disorder in where my body cannot handle stress. My brain doesn't know how to function and deal with high stress situations, so instead it shuts off my physical body. Symptoms vary from person to person, but mine are on more of the extreme end. It varies from extreme memory loss, seizures, not breathing, choking on white foam produced by my body, screaming unconsciously, blacking out, temporary amnesia, and paralysis. This is a condition that I cannot control under any circumstances, and it truly dictates my life.

Now my mom had gone to the principal (the school cycles through five in a single school year because of a whole lot of drama) to report this teacher and get a new one. And instead of acting reasonably, the principal quite literally told us she wouldn't look into a replacement because it wouldn't change anything.

And, oh, how wrong she was.

I had previously had mild anxiety and depression from previous life experiences, but this year pushed me to be anxious to a fault (granting me a new stutter, hours long panic and anxiety attacks, migraines, etc), and pushed me into such a strong depression I became highly suicidal and went into an emotional shock. And because of this I also gained PTSD, which is a whole trip within itself.

Freshman year was a wreck. Another one of my middle school teachers had died; she died from cancer and was one of very few people who were ever nice to me. I was being bullied on a whole new level of horrid, and I was flunking every class I had been in. My conversion disorder episodes became do frequent and so severe that the school actually kicked me out illegally for about two months before they continued my education on independent study. That year my dog was put down. And normally that wouldn't be such a big deal except for the part she was quite literally my only friend for three years.

Even worse; I was in recovery after one of my more major surgeries to get my ovarian cysts removed to help with my pain and sleeping problems. I was fragile and under the influence of strong drugs when I decided to take my dog on a walk around my property for the first time in a month because I had been on bed rest. She had seen my neighbor, and gotten freaked out by him (he radiates massive pedophile vibes) and so she jumped on him. Now this over privileged scumbag thought the appropriate response was to threaten to shoot my dog if he ever saw her again no matter the circumstance, and proceeded to curse me out profusely all while I tried to apologise and make it right.

My dog had become a liability because of this man and we had to put her down. Take in mind she was an amazing dog, and had never disobeyed me. She was protective of me as she had been since we adopted her and was genuinely the best thing that has ever happened to me. She'd check on me when I cried and lay with me when I was sick, and was there for me more often that my actual parents were.

The next year, I was bullied slightly less, but I had a great ordeal of friend drama and my fair amount of fights with the office staff. One of my friends, who I thought was close to me, had threatened to kill me after I offended her exactly once. I had a bad day after another episode and she had built this reputation of not feeling and being unattached to the real world. I wasn't in the mood to deal with people and when she asked me if I was okay I questioned why she cared. That was it. Later I had apologized because I had come to terms that I was in the wrong for dismantling her emotions, but she decided to take it too far.

One of my teachers was permanently removed from the school for having nudes on a school device, and they brought in a long term substitute. This was about when my PTSD really started to kick me in the nuts, so I went back on independent study to complete the year. My only other friends moved away and my significant other had killed himself after killing himself shortly after telling me he loved me.

I don't expect people to understand the kind of psychological damage this causes to a person, but I can tell you that it hurts.

I was referred to a continuation school in my area for flunking both years of highschool, and this continuation school had a bad reputation of being troubled kids and violent beings.

I get there, I spend my year being amazed by how nice people are to me. This is the first year of my life I have ever been treated like a human, and it was by the people society had deemed misfits. I had a great year; I made friends and built connections to people. And then my friends left me, and my favorite teacher was fired simply for being a first year. My other teacher left the school year early for maternity leave, and, guess what, was replaced by a long term substitute. I don't think I've ever panicked as hard as I did in those months. Similar timing, same school subject, similar classroom. All of the stressors were right and I nearly fell apart at the seams. I had more frequent and severe migraines and anxiety attacks. My hands would shake in fear so hard I couldn't write, which was bad because the classes I had with that teacher were exclusively note taking and online courses. This substitute wasn't a bad person. He was competent and polite and was always helpful, but my mental illnesses and brain blocks caused me to lose the opportunity to work with them successfully. In the last trimester I tried to kill myself three times, and I accidentally overdosed on drugs about 14 times over the whole year. I almost died a lot by my own doing and it was horrible.

Children need stability to survive and develop normally and I had been deprived of both, as well as emotional stability and positive reinforcement.

Now, during these times I had coping methods. I draw and write professionally to distract myself from the physical pain in my being if not just stress plain and simple. I watched documentaries and studied nearly every subject during my sleepless nights. My coping method was learning, practicing, evolving, and then teaching. My IQ had beat the range of average and I've had a reading level ranked at post college since I was in middle school. And this fall I'm a senior and I've only been ranked higher and higher each year. I've always gotten extra credit on every individual assignment and I've always been too of my class. My teachers love my art, and I had exceeded my professional art teacher within weeks of knowing her. I see, I practice, I perfect, I personalize every trait and skill I want and find intriguing. I study and develop to keep myself from remembering the agony I'm in.

I have a really wide and extensive knowledge on almost every subject and culture I've come across from, because being awake and learning for days on end beats being awake and in agony for days on end.

Along with my severe insomnia, it becomes apparent that I've seen more sunrises than the amount of years most adults have been alive. My walks under the starlight and the moon at odd hours? Amazing. Laying in a field at night and listening to all the little creatures and the coyotes howling in the distance? Perfect. Stargazing in my driveway on a clear night in the winter? Cold to my bones but I'd never trade the memory. Walking home in the rain at 11 a.m.? It's made me wiser. Taking a moment to breathe in and feel nature has sometimes saved me.

My bones definitely creak; mostly because I have juvenile arthritis, but I also feel ancient in my mind.

The wear and tear my body has faced for such a physically young being is unnatural. I can't describe the strange feelings of almost bleeding to death or stomach ulcers brought on by stress.

Those weird feelings of my bones cracking wrong or my knees suddenly giving out.

I've seen more of the Galaxy from here on earth than most adults have ever seen in a poster.

The meteor showers, the shooting stars, the solar flares, the cycles of the moon, the constellations? They accompany me on my walk down to my death.

Even better, looking up daily to love the clouds. I've seen amazing things and infinite days in mere minutes.

The feeling of cool streams and powerful rivers. Almost drowning in the ocean on multiple occasions, feeling the rain on my face. Those are the most powerful moments I've ever experienced.

Hearing the cry of infantile wildlife and mothering it feels like an old friend of mine. I cannot emphasize on how many creatures I've fostered back to health.

I've seen life and I've seen death, and quite too much of it for my age. The wars, the shootings, the stabbings and car accidents. People hanging themselves and people who die clear well before their body does. The births i e witnessed, the blooming of Meadows, the appearance of the new foxes.

Aiding things that normally need help and defending those who have lost their shields. Befriending things considered monsters. Providing a moment of peace for animals searching for the bridge of mortality.

The comfort I bring to people, the therapy I provide from listening and accepting, it was never something I had received myself.

My therapist diagnosed me a sociopath path as an ignorant response to seeing my lack of attachment to people. Technically she's not wrong, I'm a mild sociopath.

And before anyone gets weirded out, sociopaths do have feelings. They are simply harder to reach and read by strangers or common uninvolved people. Psychopaths pretend to care when they don't really. They are violent and unpredictable. Do not confuse us, do your research.

My English teacher this year had made a remark about me being an old soul, and oh, how right she was. I am ancient and people notice.

Life has been forever as I have been forever. My heart is still there, just ground to a fine sand and stored somewhere safer.

I'm tired, of course from my worrying for the human race and how much trouble people are creating these days. The people, they see me and tell me to smile, yet I have nothing to smile for.

My pain killers are border line overdose and all they do is make me a little dizzy. The last time I had pain relief was five years ago in a hospital. I had been in so much pain I hadn't slept in 17 days and they out me on morphine. I was only 12 years old and it was then it had become apparent I'd never be able to truly rest.

Somehow, I rest anyways. I find peace somewhere. Maybe in my hallucinations, maybe in my dreaming and dissociating, maybe in the way the trees speak. Listen to them, the trees, they can tell you more than a life time of science and precision.

I exist, not to overpower someone else's suffering, but instead to offer safety and support. I share so much to emphasize how much I understand. I'm not here as competition to see who can suffer more, but instead I am here to offer a helping hand to keep other people out of the pit of depression I often find myself in.

[heartbreakcity]

Attack of the Dodgeballs - Archie Andrews Imagine

Paring: Archie Andrews x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Bullying, death threats, swearing

Requested: Yes by @hazeofeleven -                                                                    Archie Andrews x reader where they’re dating and in gym and they’re playing dodgeball or something and reader gets nailed in the cheek by her enemy and she cries because that’s what normally happens so she sits out for the rest of the game but comes back, fiery look in her eyes and nails the girl back and Archie is so proud and brags all day about his gf. Thanks so much!!

A/ N - I hope you like this! I’m so sorry for the long wait, but here you go :)

Friday. Third period. The one hour a week you dreaded more than anything. The one hour that made you want to run in the opposite direction. The one hour which makes your life a living hell.

That one hour was gym class.

Now normally, under any circumstances you would love gym class; you enjoyed exercise, you were getting straight A’s in all classes including PE, and you were with the whole “squad”. And by “squad” it was Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, Kevin Keller, Jughead Jones and the love of your life, Archie Andrews.

You used to love it all, but one day, that changed. You had never spoken about it to anyone, but over the summer, your happy feelings had been abused into insecure imperfections. What you used to love about yourself, had been completely changed. Not by yourself, but by the school “mean girls”.

The group of evil girls were known for being nasty, but you never knew how much it would hurt until you felt it first hand. Lead by their bitch of a girl Chanel Jackson, they had ruined every thing you once loved.

It started with small comments, little things that would annoy the heck out of you. But those words turned into venom, and they cut deep. They told you to kill yourself, they told you you weren’t worth anything, they even tried to jeopardise your relationship with Archie. But even though the latter failed, they made your life a living hell.

And gym class was the worst; all your flaws were on show and they knew it. They made you think that, maybe, you deserved everything they said.

As you walked into the changing rooms and opened your locker, your heard a voice that chilled your bones.

“Oh look who we have here! The local town whore!” A shrill voice came from behind you.

You turned around slowly, dreading the eyes you were about to meet.

“And how can I help you today, Chanel?” You asked, attempting to be brave, but your worried tone seeped through every word.

“Honey, you can help us all by downing a bottle of bleach!” She cheerful threatened.

The words stung your brain and heart, and you fought hard to push back the tears that began to bring your eyes.

But in the spilt second that followed, your saviours walked into the changing room; Veronica and Betty.

“Y/N,”Veronica started, shooting you a concerned look as she took in the situation, “Are they bothering you?”

“Oh no, we’re just chatting, aren’t we Y/N?” Chanel death-stared you to agree, and as much as you wanted to fight your case, you couldn’t.

Instead, you gave a wry smile to Veronica, “All good, V.”

And finally, they left, releasing the pressure of the world off your shoulders. As you turned to face your locker and began to change, Betty touched your shoulder comfortingly.

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes I’m fine, B. Promise,” you tried to convince her and yourself. But she saw right through you.

“Y/N, you can tell us anything,” she pestered.

“I said I’m fine, Betty!” You snapped all too quickly. With the just right amount of defensiveness made Veronica and Betty realise, there was definitely more to the story.

After quickly getting changed, the three of you walked into the gymnasium and headed towards your usual spot, where the boys were already waiting for you. You smiled to yourself as you saw Archie; with his bright eyes and tight fitting shirt, all your worries faded away at once.

When they saw you approach, Archie smiled at you and put his muscular arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer into his side as if he never wanted to be apart.

“Hey you,” he said, giving you a wide grin that made your heart melt.

“Hi Arch,” you said, returning the smile.

That was the power of Archie Andrews; in a bad time, he made you forget about the sadness. He made you feel safe, at home and loved. The truth was, you loved him more than life itself.

And little did you know, Archie felt the exact same way.

After a few minutes of catchup with your friends, you made and effort to blend in. You wanted to remain on the down-low for just a little while longer.

“Ok class,” Coach Clayton announced from the middle of the room. You could see Chanel and her minions from the corner of your eyes, shooting you daggers at the sight of Archie’s arm still hung loosely around your shoulders.

“Today,” he continued, we’re bringing back an old favourite…DODGEBALL!”

Everyone cheered.

Everyone…except you. If this didn’t give the bitches a chance to put you down both literally and metaphorically, then nothing would.

So you braved yourself for what was yet to come. And secretly, you wondered how much you could endure.

Sorting the teams took no time, and the first match went perfectly with your friends and yourself taking the crown.

But eventually the competition was ruled out, and the last two teams standing were yours, versus Chanels.

Archie pulled the group around him and proceeded to give a much-too-serious pep talk about tactics and positions. But you couldn’t focus on your boyfriends words, only the slight whispers that travelled from the other end of the gymnasium and the eyes that were burning into the back of your head.

“Destroy her-

“How?

“Archie-”

”Slut-“

“Y/N? Y/N, you there?” Archie interrupted your thoughts and eavesdropping.

“Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, “I was saying how were going to put you girls at the back and us guys will be at the front, catching them out ok?”

You gave him a nod and supportive smile, attempting to recover your brave face.

“Alright, lets crush them!” Archie encouraged, taking his eyes off you and starting to make his way to the position at the front and centre.

”Or they’ll crush me” you whispered to yourself.

Coach Clayton reset the scoreboard and the rest of the class sat on the benches, eager to watch the match unfold.

You looked down to see your legs shaking slightly and your palms became hot and sticky. Their words rang like alarms in your head and you tried to block them, only for the volume to be turned up to max. You were too focused on controlling your breathing to notice Coach blowing his whistle to start the match, and far too distracted to catch the ball that was hurtling towards you.

Luckily, Jughead caught it just in time and returned it to the other side with force, and then proceeded to take in your petrified face.

“Are you ok?” He asked, fully concerned to why one of his best friend looked so pale and frightened all of a sudden.

But before you could reply, another voice screamed your name.

“Have this, slut!” Chanel sneered and launched a ball in your direction, only for it to miss and be picked up by Kevin.

“No foul language on the court!” Coach Clayton announced, fuming at Chanel.

“Her fault for being a whore!” She chimed back, speaking like an angel, truthfully being a devil in disguise.

“Excuse me?” Veronica accused, getting defensive and attacking her right hand minion with a ball.

“Don’t talk to her like that!” Archie defended you, walking right up to the line and facing Chanel directly.

Chanel laughed, “And once again, Archie Andrews is here to save his pathetic excuse of a girlfriend.”

“I said,” Archie gritted his teeth, don’t talk to her like that.”

“Why not?” Chanel yelled to the whole class, “Y/N Y/L/N is a first class skank and we all know it. She should easily enough slit her wrists and save us from seeing her disgusting face ever again! In fact,” she turned to you, “I can happily provide the knife if you need it!” She gleefully threatened you.

And that’s when a ball flew right into your stomach, making your already churned insides feel even worse. Tears were flooding down your face as the whole class stopped what they were doing. It went completely and deadly silent as everyone took in every single second of it, and they grew horrified at what had been spoken.

Straightening your back, you felt all eyes on you.

Betty and Veronica looked horrified, whilst Kevin and Jughead looked like they were ready to rip Chanels head off.

And Archie?

Archie looked destroyed. He couldn’t bear it when someone was mean to you, and right now, seeing you hurt, it felt like his whole world had come crashing down. He felt helpless as he saw your confidence, self-esteem and happiness crumble around you, leaving you vulnerable and defenceless.

You took the silence as a sign for you to leave, and ran out of the gym back into the changing room, and broke down immediately.

What did you do to deserve this? Obviously she was just jealous, but did she need to attack you so viciously?

The doors swung open again and you were engulfed in both Veronica’s and Betty’s arms, causing you to break down even more. You remained like that for a few moments; nothing needed to be said, you just needed to know you were loved. And they proved it.

You pulled away, wiped your eyes and gave them a smile.

“Archie’s fuming, Veronica told you honestly.

“He said, and I quote ‘I will end that bitch’,” Betty informed you.

And that was the moment you realised, you didn’t have to feel this way. You had so many people who loved you and were willing to fight for you. Willing to prove their love for you. And willing to make sure you are ok. Those jealous girls lead by a sad wannabe  didn’t mean anything to you anymore, not when you had the whole of Riverdale’s finest watching your back. And you couldn’t be more grateful.

For the first time in weeks, you gave B and V genuine smiles, “Then let’s end her.”

Walking out the changing rooms for the second time around, you held your head high. Everyone fell silent from their chatter and you saw the boys looking anxiously in your direction, slightly holding Archie back from any trouble he may feel like causing.

But it wasn’t Archie they needed to worry about.

“Hey Chanel!” You called to the girl, and she turned back around to face you with a shocked look.

You gave a smirk, “ready for round two?”

“I CANT BELIVE IT!” Archie cheered for the millionth time. You were sat in the common room on your usual couches, and the whole year was congratulating you on beating the evil Chanel in your successful game of dodgeball, proving her wrong and proceeding to get her suspended for bullying.

You laughed and playfully hit his chest, “So you’ve mentioned Arch.”

He just pulled you closer in his arms and gave you a sorry look, “It’s not right what they did to you Y/N/N.”

You looked down at your blue, chipped nail polish, but your chin was lifted back up to meet Archie’s Meaningful eyes.

“I promise you Y/N Y/L/N, I am never going to let anyone hurt you ever again,” he whispered to you, letting you know that he truly meant it.

You smiled at him and kissed him lightly on the lips, “I love you, Arch.”

He returned the gesture and replied simply, “I love you too.”

And a generic reply it may be, but deep down you knew it was more than just love.

It was belonging to one another for the rest of your lives.

[sntgoodposts]

Boogie and Women

Boogie has a very dim attitude towards women, treating them as either therapists or prostitutes, or both. Boogie has said that he has no moral issue with dating people as young as the ‘age of consent’. This implies a lack of moral judgement on dating younger people. When pursuing women, Boogie has often tried to date people in their 20s, despite being near 50 himself.

Boogie has claimed to be a first-wave ‘femenist’. What he means by identifying by a ‘wave’ of feminism that occurred in the late 19th and early 20th century, as opposed to contemporary feminism, is unclear. Boogie has said that the opinions of women matter more to him, and it’s been demonstrated that he seems to get angrier at the opinions of women who disagree with him moreso than that of men. This is demonstrated by the anger he showed to Kat Blaque, Lucy Foxx, or Allison Steele.

Porn Blog: Although Boogie has changed his personality a lot, his attitude towards women was at it’s worst during the time in which he ran multiple porn blogs. Here you can see the worst of his comments about women.

Dani: Boogie claimed that in high school, he dated a black girl. In 2017, Boogie has claimed that he got into fistfights to defend her, however on the Killstream he went back on this, saying that he only got into one fistfight when he was 12.

He spoke about her in an incredibly caustic way in a group chat, saying “So fuck her. And now she’s dead [...] She died at 39 of fuckin’ lung cancer. She had breast cancer and the beat the breast cancer, but the treatment for the breast cancer gave her lung cancer (laughs)”. He would later defend these comments by claiming ‘double cancer’ was coined by Dani, though has never addressed the ‘fuck her’ comment.

Dez Williams: Boogie’s ex-wife has long been suspected of being a victim to his emotional abuse. He has mentioned that he screamed at her, and has acted highly possessive to her. More about this can be found in the emotional abuse article.

Boogie showed intense cruelty during the divorce proceedings, forcing her to sign a Non-Disparage Clause. Getting a dog was Dez’s idea, and Boogie was against it from the beginning. So naturally, during the divorce, she requested custody of their dog Sammy. However, Boogie did not allow for this, and instead alleged that his therapist told him that ‘a man is supposed to [...] let a her have everything have what she needed but not what she wanted’. Boogie’s will specifically dictates that Dez is not to get Sammy even if he dies.

After leaving her, Boogie’s fans have continued to harass her, telling her to remarry him. Boogie has done little to stop this, and continues to call her very often. He has made a video where he angrily destroyed an effigy of her after the divorce (it should be noted that he did this ‘as Francis’, but Boogie has said Francis is how he launders his opinions and deals with anger). Dez has endured much, but is genuinely happy now. However, when she posted this, Boogie immediately responded with an image of himself with one of his sugar babies.

Sugar Babies: Since his divorce, Boogie has often Paid women to date him, often in a sugar daddy style relationship where they are paid to be around him. Although he often claims to attract women by being nice, he has admitted to using paid dating websites.

Lucy Foxx: Boogie met Lucy Foxx on Seeking, a sugar daddy/baby relationship website. He claimed he wanted to help her build her career. These kinds of relationships typically involve trading money and gifts for a pseudo-dating type of relationship.

Lucy Foxx was a woman who dated Boogie briefly in a sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship after his divorce. Boogie often gave her lootcrate toys and other hand-me-downs as gifts. In a tearful video, she described the emotional abuse he would put her through. This included keeping her trapped inside the house, stopping her from earning income, and then refusing to give her money. In one instance, she mentioned him stopping her from leaving by shouting “You know I need somebody right now”.

Furthermore, he would frequently demean her, saying “you don’t mean shit to me”, and “you’re just a piece of shit”, and refer to her as a “hooker”. He would also scream at her daily. Despite meeting on a sugar daddy website, Boogie would later criticize her for asking for money from him. Lucy, like any person, had her own emotional issues, but Boogie would not listen to her and made her feel unimportant.

It should be noted that Lucy was 20 when she met Boogie, and claimed that he had engaged in similar abuse with girls ‘younger than’ her.

At the end of the relationship, he told her to “keep my fucking name out of your mouth”. Boogie would later confirm this specific comment, though saying “she swore she would never tell lies about me in public”. Boogie has maintained that Lucy Foxx has falsely accused him of abuse. As a side note, Boogie has said that ‘false accusers of rape’ can never be forgiven for their crime, as opposed to rapists. Boogie would claim to have ‘nothing but love for her’, but also like tweets calling her horrible and sociopathic, a sentiment his fans continue to express.

Boogie has NEVER addressed the claims of Lucy Foxx, other than to say that she is lying. He has repeatedly said that it is self-evident that he did not abuse her. Beyond this, he has never addressed any of the claims she made.

Grave Ghoul: After dating Lucy Foxx, Boogie began to associate with Grave Ghoul, another girl who offered paid escort services. Similarly to Lucy Foxx, Boogie would say that he was trying to help her build her career. She would often appear in his videos and other content, sitting in the back silently.

Boogie would often time posts with Grave Ghoul to appear after his Ex-Wife’s pictures on instagram. Otherwise, she would not be seen close to him often, and would often keep her distance from him where possible.

Boogie stressed her ‘marketability’, referring to her erotic content, and claimed she had become very successful due to him. He would also say that he wanted her in his videos solely to ‘stir up drama’, and piss off his critics at SamandTolki and Kiwi Farms. Despite this, Grave Ghoul would remove all mentions of Boogie from her social media. Boogie would claim that she had been bullied off the internet by his critics, but this seems to be referring more to how his own references being scrubbed. Boogie would also later claim that he had been accused of abuse of Grave Ghoul, but what he meant by this is unclear. He would complain about her later, and reveal her real name.

New Girl:

Boogie started a new account on Seeking shortly after Grave Ghoul removed him from her life called ‘Southern King’, despite saying he would never use the site again.

Boogie began tweeting about a new girlfriend, who he claimed he met through a mutual friend, and that she was over 28. He would also repeatedly claim they were ‘only friends’, something he has done in the past to escorts.

It would later be found out that she also was a 26 year old escort from Seeking.

Other Women:

Other women have entered Boogie’s life in a non-romantic context and found themselves being reacted to poorly.

Kat Blaque

Kat Blaque is a trans woman vlogger who had briefly engaged with Boogie, gently critiquing a take of his. 8 months later, Boogie approached her at VidCon, threatening to kill himself because of her tweet. Boogie would corner her in a crowded space, and threaten to kill himself. This was witnessed by Lindsey Ellis, who documented the experience, noting that he screamed and was incredibly angry. As noted in the documentation, Boogie would cite her tweet as the reason he would kill himself. Later in an extended monologue, he would reinterpret this as threatening to kill himself to change YouTube culture.

It should be noted that Boogie threatened suicide to several people at VidCon, but only Kat Blaque endured this treatment. Boogie often discusses varying topics with people he meets, but rarely raises his voice in anger to anyone but women.

In a stream discussing his father: Boogie has described his father as a child molester, one of the groups that he said can never be forgiven. However, when a female fan criticized his father, he threatened to “knock her the fuck out”.

Anita Sarkeesian: Boogie has engaged with Anita Sarkeesian a lot, and said that he would never insult her as she was a woman. However, 15 days earlier, he said that he should never be ‘humane’ to Anita Sarkeesian. He acknowledged that he had been responsible for harassing her by proxy. He would also blame her for the death of an activist.

E-Girl: After being told that the term “E-Girl” was offensive, Boogie promised to remove it from his vocabulary. However, he continued to use the term, blocking people who mentioned the contradiction.

Who’s Boogie?: When Boogie joined a woman’s stream, he got very angry when she didn’t recognize him. He repeated ‘Who’s Boogie!’ mockingly many times, before sexualizing the young woman.

Sex Workers: Boogie often talks derogatorily about ‘hookers’, and claims to make use of them regularly. He would say that immigration was okay because it would bring him more women to date. The majority of women he interacts with are sex workers, and he often takes a paternalistic tone with them.

[miraculous786]

Miraculous: Heartstring (Akumatized!Luka) > Five

Masterlist

Alya scrolled through her Messages app, refreshing the page every so often to see if she missed anything. She still couldn't fathom the nerve of that girl! How had she have ever been best friends with a jealous bully- so hellbent on tormenting someone more interesting than her?

Since Miss Bustier wasn't yet in the classroom, classmates were mostly crowded around Lila's desk, as she chatted about her recent trip to Achu with Prince Ali. Alya sighed in disappointment, and stood up to make her way over, only to jump in surprise when the classroom door was flung open.

There, stood an akuma, strings creating a guitar over his heart. A necklace with something triangular attached to it was hung around his neck, and in his arms was a female facing away from everyone.

The reporter swiftly pulled up her Camera app, live streaming for her Ladyblog. Hopefully Paris' heroes would see it and she could snag an interview with them, she thought.

"It's so nice to finally see the class of untrustworthy, ungrateful brats altogether," he sneered, tone filled to the brim with restrained anger.

His emerald eyes softened when he looked down to the girl in his arms, and the class watched as she glanced at them, her eyes the same colour. Then, they realised that it was Marinette, except her hair was flowing, a stark contrast to her usual hairstyle.

He cupped her cheek with one of his hands, finger sliding against the hollow of her cheekbone as he stated, "Don't worry, My Melody. They'll get what's coming to them, along with Lila for what they did to you."

Alya internally raged, thinking as to how insensitive Marinette was to have someone humiliate Lila for her so that she couldn't take the blame.

"Luka?" Juleka murmured, though it was crystal clear in the relatively quiet classroom. A smirk played on his lips as he answered, "Not anymore, sister. It's Heartstring now, and you all will pay for harming Marinette!"

The tension in the air was so thick that a knife wouldn't be able to cut through it. Inspecting the female more, the class saw how she almost seemed unaware of the stares of everyone around her, until a shrill voice broke the silence.

"It's not true!" Lila cried, tears streaming down her cheeks, "S-she must've lied to get you akumatized! She's probably working for Hawk Moth!"

The feral growl that ripped from the akuma's throat signified that she had said the wrong thing, as he placed Marinette down gently onto the teacher's desk, before his fingers played a tune on his heartstrings.

The music was hollow, and the class felt as though their hearts were as heavy as a ton of bricks, as most doubled over from the pain. They attempted to cover their ears, but to no avail, as their backs straightened, and mouths clamped shut without control.

Alya felt her hands tilt the phone in Lila's direction, making her confused as to why the akuma made them. The reporter's eyes briefly flickered to Marinette, only to see the girl obliviously swaying side to side as if the melody was sweet music to her ears.

Everyone's bodies were stiff, forced to look in the direction of Lila as Heartstring grinned and hissed, "Let's see Lila Rossi. How do you feel about Marinette? What is it really like between you two?"

The Italian's face paled significantly, and Alya felt her muscles tense in frustration as she watched Lila unfairly being tested for something that wasn't wrong. Well, he would see the truth, Alya thought.

He did, and so did everyone else, as they listened to the long list of interactions between Marinette and Lila.

Lila had threatened Marinette in the bathroom, saying she would turn all of her friends against her.

Lila had snuck her fox tail necklace into Marinette's locker to frame her for stealing.

Lila had placed a test answer sheet in her bag to make it look like Marinette had cheated on a test.

Lila had faked a knee injury, saying Marinette pushed her down a set of stairs. That, along with the other supposed breaking of school rules got her expelled.

The most shocking discovery was when Lila revealed that the story of Marinette bullying her was a hoax.

The class sat in horror, gazes alternating between the Vixen and Marinette, who's eyes were still an unnatural green.

Alya's hand trembled, phone dropping onto her desk. The sudden noise in the classroom made a few people start, faces clearly ridden with guilt. There was no time for everyone to think about their actions however, as a leather-clad figure cleared his throat at the entrance of the room.

Heads turned to Chat Noir, as he joked, "Though I'd love to play Truth or Dare with you all, I think it's time I step in to ruin the fun." He leaned on his baton, smirking, but it was a strained smile.

He turned to Marinette briefly, noticing the way Heartstring tensed before lunging at him. Thankfully, he saw the attack coming, and dodged just in time. Chat leaped into the courtyard of the school, the akuma following suit.

A purple symbol flared over Heartstring's face, no doubt Hawk Moth demanding for the miraculous.

As expected, Heartstring faced Chat Noir, eyes catching onto his ring, before nimble fingers reached up to his heart. Chat, sensing he would use his instrument, threw his weapon at his hand, successfully surprising him as he charged forward.

His claws were ready, aimed at the guitar pick strung around his neck. Luka swiftly sidestepped, missing Chat Noir by an inch, and proceeded to slide his foot underneath his leg, tripping him over.

Chat yelped as Heartstring held him down on the ground, fingers ready to grab his ring. With his baton out of reach, he did the only thing he could think of.

"Cataclysm!" He yelled, as destructive energy bubbled from his fingertips. Luka leaned back, intent on not getting touched by the force. Chat smirked, and reached for his baton, but was interrupted by the faint voice of one of his classmates.

"Marinette, you need to hide! The akuma might hurt you if he finds you!" Alya warned back in the classroom, pulling on said girl's arm. She stayed put on the desk, murmuring under her breath.

"He said he'll protect me."

"Girl, we need to go! I don't want my best friend to get hurt!" she exclaimed, arms waving in the air.

Marinette blankly stared back at Alya, before saying, "I'm not your best friend. You made that very clear."

Her mouth dropped open, prepared to deny when Heartstring appeared in the doorway. Instantly, Marinette went to his side, ignoring the incredulous stares of Alya, and Chat Noir behind them.

"I'll get you out of here My Melody," he vowed, nose nuzzled in her hair as he swept her off of her feet and jumped away. The wind blew through her tresses, as she peeked over the akuma's shoulder and saw Chat Noir tailing her.

She buried her head in his chest, eyes tightly shut as she tried to block out the memory of Alya suddenly saying they were best friends again, when she had said earlier that they weren't. Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes, as the calm atmosphere began to dissipate.

Her attention was focused on his heart, as she now noticed the hollow space of it. Without any strings.

[bobateatree]

I haven’t written here in a long time. This is long and sad. I’ve definitely been called “Eeyore” before, so read with caution. Also, triggers and such.

It’s almost midnight on a Saturday and I’ve been tired for at least four hours. I don’t want to go to sleep. I’m too young to be tired on a night like this.

After I grabbed drive-thru breakfast with Tim this morning, I went home and showered before my OB/GYN appointment. My IUD looks normal. It’s such a relief. When I got home, I watched a block of Will & Grace on TV before mowing the lawn. I broke something in our backyard but my mom fixed it with duct tape (bless). I took another shower and now I’m here on my computer, where I’ve been the past few hours.

Tim is going to a kegger with his friends tonight where they’ve requested he play Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix on the guitar (”just like old times, they said”). After giving me an outline of all the possible scenarios (who will be there, how long he’ll be staying there, if he’ll stay the night, the possible fist fight that someone will start, etc.), I’ve opted to just wait for a text that will tell me if it’s worth coming. I’m already so sleepy, so even if I get a green light, I think I’ll have passed out at that point.

The irony is so thick. I have such bad FOMO for things like these (i.e., not partying enough at this time in my life), that when an opportunity finally comes, I’m just too tired.

I’ve felt lots of lows before: the stressed from school lows, the stressed from my dad leaving lows, the stressed from finishing college and becoming an adult lows. But this is unlike anything I’ve ever really felt before. It’s so...real? Not that the other ones haven’t been real, but this one is so close and tight and it just follows me constantly. The other lows I’ve been able to successfully hide, block, and/or numb. Not this time around. Oh, no.

So a lot of things have happened within the past calendar year. It’s been almost a full seven months since things have blown up, but have I recovered in those seven months? Absolutely not. Strap in!

Let’s start with my brother (this will be all about him, by the way; if he ever finds this blog, hi!). He started dating this girl, and then he moved her in without directly asking my mother if it was okay that some person he just began to date lived in her own house without ever really leaving. As soon as I noticed what was happening, I became extremely resentful and angry. I hope you can tell where this will be going. This began toward the end of 2015.

After a few months of this girl not leaving to ever go to her parent’s home (which is a long and harrowing 15 minutes away), only going there to move more of her things into my home, I became even more angry. Every time I tried to bring this up in conversation with my brother, he would talk over me, denounce me, belittle me--things older brothers love to do to their little sisters, at least that’s what mine does. It was a losing battle for me. My mother said she didn’t care, but I knew she did.

Oh, did I mention that my brother’s girlfriend never bothered paying rent when she lived in my home for a full year? Now’s a good time to mention that.

Throughout 2016, I was out of the house as much as I could possibly be. I did a lot of cool things, the majority of them away from home. I went to beer fests, concerts, musicals, and overall spent a lot of time in the city. I even took all four of us downtown one day when it was my brother’s birthday. It was a great time. I even got kicked out of a bar celebrating my own birthday, which was amazing and something I never want to do again.

Anyway. I was a 23 year old doing 23 year old things. Not really doing any harm, right?

Well, here’s the thing. My brother smoked weed 24/7, and eventually quit his job to do just that. All him and his girlfriend did was smoke weed and watch cartoons all day while my mom and I went to our full time jobs. At this point, toward the end of 2016, neither my brother nor his girlfriend were working (for reference, my brother is in his mid-30′s while his girlfriend is in her late 30′s). As a 23 year old, this angered me even more. But when I’m angry, I sit quietly and boil.

This is where shit hit the fan. My brother became manic around the 2016 holidays and would never, ever stop talking, rarely sleep, and had all these crazy get rich quick schemes because hard work is for people who don’t want to stop smoking weed and watch cartoons all day. And on Christmas Day, I said I wanted to kill myself because he pointed out that nothing I could do would make our mom happy (she’s been struggling in every way--mentally, emotionally, financially--ever since my dad left).

He proceeded to viciously scream at me and threaten to call the cops. I ran to the bathroom crying. He was going to his girlfriend’s family’s get together that day while I was bringing Tim to my family’s. He ignored me the rest of the day. When I had left for the evening, I slammed the door in his face.

Cue beginning of 2017. The manic episode continues for my brother. I would be followed around, relentlessly bullied, screamed at, etc. His lack of filter was piercing. In his mind, by obsessively bullying me to spend time with him, he thought he was helping me. I was actively avoiding him and his girlfriend because I didn’t want to be around 30-something potheads. He took notice and became even angrier with me. I later realized he was trying to control me, and responded badly when he couldn’t do that.

Also--by this time, I loaned him a lot of money so he could buy a car. I also loaned his girlfriend money for her bills. Surprise, surprise: my brother did not end up buying a car; he told me all the money went to fixing his girlfriend’s piece of shit car (he told me a lot of things he did with money I loaned him up to this point; looking back, I know he was clever in saying the money I let him borrow always went to helping someone else, instead of drugs, where it actually went).

Did I make a mistake loaning two shameless potheads lots of cash? Absolutely. Did I do my best to give them the benefit of the doubt because I tried to see the best in people? Yes. Because of this, will I ever loan people money again? Probably not, and that sucks.

So by early 2017, I was out a thousand dollars by two people living in my home who were essentially being irresponsible teenagers masquerading as 30-somethings with a purpose in life. Things were getting so bad at home that I looked forward to going to work every day because no one would be following me around, screaming at me, and/or asking me for money with a new creative excuse every time.

My brother would also make sure to relentlessly scream at my mother for hours at a time, for no reason at all. My mom once kicked him and his girlfriend out one evening for one of these instances, and his girlfriend started crying in her car because she was so hungry. I mean, all she wanted to do was eat dinner while her boyfriend was obsessively screaming in his own mother’s face. What was the problem? (I unfortunately was not home this evening, my mom called me and told me about it after those two were finally out of the house).

When my brother finally picked up that I didn’t want to be around him at all, he once aggressively wondered why I didn’t want to do drugs with him and why I didn’t like him anymore. This was on our way to a family party. I did not want to talk about it. (Also, while being super aggressive, he asked me why I acted like he was always attacking me. Well, JEEZ, I don’t know! I said I didn’t like being forced into conversation which was his favorite fucking thing to do to everyone around him).

And then, the inevitable happened. After all the screaming, the yelling, the aggression, the drug use, the disrespect, the lack of filter--my mom had enough. She finally kicked out my brother and his girlfriend. The day they were moving out, they tormented my mother the entire day while I was at work. They made her life hell for a full eleven hours.

After my mom could access a phone, she told me what was happening in real time. I have never been more angry in my entire life. My inner pot of hot boiling water exploded. I came home and screamed in my brother’s and his girlfriend’s faces. He responded by shoving me to the ground.

Drug addicts hate when you treat them the same way they’ve been treating you.

I think it’s only fair to point out that I wasn’t an angel; I was definitely mean at times. When my brother’s girlfriend would walk into the kitchen, I would glare at her when I thought she couldn’t see me (apparently she could?). When she tried talking to me, I wouldn’t look her in the eye. When I asked her to stop touching my things when she would be sitting inside my home when I was at work (she would share pictures on Facebook of my living room, for example, with items rearranged because aesthetic? I don’t, know, it was stupid just like she is), I could tell she didn’t like that.  But I didn’t like that some stranger was living in my home, not paying rent, while I was working extra hard specifically to not be in this space she got to enjoy as a luxury. She even coaxed a 23 year old into loaning her money for her bills, as previously mentioned. She was living the dream!

There’s a lot that happened after the initial move out. It was a hot mess of them couch surfing at friend’s homes (who I brought up to speed as fast as I could; needless to say, the kindness from their friends dried up quickly) and eventually ending up in a motel (and coming back to my home, multiple times, unannounced, begging for money to stay a couple more nights there), and that’s where the begging ended. At one point they returned my mom’s stolen cell phone, which was the last “nice” thing they did.

It’s finally ended with my brother and his girlfriend blocking both me and my mom on Facebook. After this, my brother’s friends told me that he wrote a super long status about how awful me and my mom are. I wish I could’ve seen some screenshots.

Drug addicts love to rationalize in opposites.

I haven’t seen or heard from either of these people in...going on seven months. I honestly don’t know where they are or what they’re up to. I also haven’t seen my dad in four years. I hate how life has shown me that family can be so awful. Family is supposed to be the group of people in your life that’s not supposed to treat you this way.

At this point, I began to think of how my future wedding will look. Family is supposed to love you, right? But how can your family love you if...

I still need to make an appointment for a therapist because I still want to kill myself sometimes. Just when I thought I couldn’t handle more negativity, harassment, and abuse--bam! More shows up.

I just needed to get this all out, at least through this medium. Maybe if it’s all down, I’ll stop constantly thinking about these things in my mind when I should be focusing on the present. Because on the bright side, I’m no longer being lied to or screamed at by drug addicts who’ve said they love me, but didn’t actually mean it. And that’s something to be thankful for.

[revpanikbedlam]

Milo the Rascal

Milo the Rascal

Part 1: Attempted Murder A story by Her Lady Baroness Rev. Panik EVlynn Bedlam, Esq.

It all felt like a dream but Milo was most certainly awake. He was a powerful dreamer and a napper of par excellence, so if he was asleep he'd know. Elton used to joke that he was a competitive snoozer with slumber on the mind, and Milo responded to it as a compliment and took any opportunity to show off his talents. 

But at the moment this was not the case as he was fully alert, wakeful, and vigilant. Athough he knew that he was not in repose, something about this place was off. There was a strangeness that hit his senses like a surrealistic pillow hurled from an uncanny vantage. 

It was in trying to follow Elton that he had come to this odd locale, having traveled up a silver stairwell into the purple swirl of clouds that had appeared suddenly in their living room. It was a cyclone of swirling papers with a force that knocked books from their shelves. Elton didn't say a thing as he passively lead the way to this place, but with Milo having only three legs it made ascending the stairs a slow affair. By the time he got to the top Elton was nowhere to be seen.  

After he made summit on the last step of that radiant climb, having risen through a glittering violet tornado of green lightning, the portal of that strange stairwell vanished behind him, leaving him no way back to his apartment. Milo's long gray fur was heavily mused from the eldritch winds, and a tangible sparkling debris adhered to it. He decided to take a moment to compose himself, licking his paw and proceeded to groom himself while he looked around. It was nice, a large grass field filled with flowers with little pastoral ponds and flowing creeks rolling in all directions. Large willows blew in a sweet wind over patches of wild gourds and melons.

Milo could see a ways off in almost every direction but Elton was nowhere about. He paused for a moment and wondered if he had been wrong to go up those stairs after him, for the manner of Elton's peculiar splitting had been confusing. 

Elton had been sick ever since he had been attacked that day, stabbed by the bad man. He had gone to the hospital, but the wound wouldn't heal. “Magic poison on the blade, harmful to my body and soul,” Elton had told him as Milo sat on his friend's lap, purring as much as he could, hoping it would make Elton better. But as Milo laid there, Elton stood up and walked across the room. To Milo's surprise, he didn't fall from the lap as a cold and motionless copy of Elton remained in the chair. 

Milo was the sort of cat who followed Elton everywhere like a little shadow and seldom were they apart. It was apparently uncommon according to what Milo heard other people say, but he would follow Elton all over town, going anywhere it wasn't expressively disallowed and even some places it was. This being the case, Milo decided he wasn't going to change old habits over something like that. He decided that the weird glowing version of his friend was more real for its movements, and followed that rather than staying with the unmoving other. But now having chased Elton to this place, he had apparently fallen behind and now Elton seemed to be gone. 

Perhaps if I got a better point of vantage, Milo thought to himself, and with some degree of difficulty attempted to climb a tree. It took him two tries before he finally got it, as he had never been much of a climber. He'd been missing one of his back paws since he was a kitten, but he did what he could. 

Having so managed his disability for so long he had learned to compensate and it rarely gave him issue, often still outrunning and outfighting any of the other local cats that challenged him. Top Tom of his block he might be, with a few litters out there to his name; Top Tom of the tree tops he was not. So with great care, he struggled to keep his back leg planted as he crept his front paws forward.

When he finally reached the peak of the tree he looked and still saw no sign of Elton. He felt lost and sad without his friend and he began crying out a whining “meow, meow, meow!” like he would when he was unable to find Elton in the apartment. Whenever Milo sang, he would stop just long enough to listen for the telltale, “What do you want you little rascal? I'm just over here.” But no response came from his friend.

“What are you yowling about cat!?” shouted a crow who came to land next to him. Milo blinked as he realized that the crow had spoken in a manner not like that of a crow, but not entirely like that of a man. 

As a cat, he had needed to figure out what some of the bird-songs meant, so he might hunt them more effectively. For this, he had learned to understand the various alarms and announcements of the crow's squawking language, just as he had learned to interpret much of the babbling ooking of humans. Other cats told him that he was better at understanding what the other animals said then they, often only understanding the words for their "people names," or the call for dinner. This, on the other hand, was different; it was like the sounds the bird made spoke directly into his mind.

“Meow?” Milo attempted, and the crow looked at him quixotically in response. “Hoy hoy hoy? What? Meow? I said why are you yowling, not what did you say. Say again, why do you sing your dirging call, it makes me sad to hear it. Tell me why?”

Milo scowled and gave a bit more indignant “Murr” at the bird. He wasn't sure what was going on but it seemed like the bird was attempting to get him to speak as it did. How was he supposed to do that, if he could have spoken the words of men or bird he would have made clear his thoughts long ago.

“Still more with your cat sounds. Why do you not speak to me? Why are you so impolite?” The crow stopped suddenly, looking Milo over. 

“Are you not from this place, are you from the Real? You seem not to be of this place. Here we speak with our thoughts, we bring sound to our minds, we do this to show the desires of our spirits. Just as we did long ago on Earth. You speak as the baying ancestors still in the world, those who speak only animal words. Has no one ever shown you how to speak from your heart with the green energy of the all-power?”

Milo gave the crow the same perplexed look he would give Elton when he changed the flavor of his food, and grumbled in such a way as to strongly imply both negative confirmation and indignant confusion.

“Oh, my! You must be from the world of the Real! That is very exciting! We birds do not often act kindly to cats, but how you came to this side must be a tale of excitement to tell! But to tell it you must have words. So come with me, I will take you to Grand Unkle, for I am Nephfew. He is a shaman of great power to my family and is very wise. He will be able to teach you the way language was spoken in the seven caves of the First Garden. Come with me!”

Nephfew flew out of the tree and onto the ground. He buffeted and flapped his wings and began to shout. “Hurry, hurry! Come, come now! Hoy! Hoy! Hoy!” Climbing down was worse than climbing up. There was nothing to grab with since his claws turned the wrong way around. This was always the problem, forgetting the difficulty in getting down before starting to climb. An attempt to quickly twist about lead to a loss of grip and with a tumbling slide, Milo slumped through the branches catching the trunk with his claws just enough times that he was able to slow his descent. Thus when his paws hit the grassy loam with a soft, inelegant thud, it was mostly embarrassment rather than pain that he felt, made worse with the cawing laughter of the crow as he chortled. 

“The grace of cats! Hoy, hoy, hoy!”

Milo grumbled and with a rumbling growl let out a “murr hiss!” at the crow.

The crow gave a raspy croak as he said, “Whagg! No need to get your tail twisted over it, cat. You seem to understand, so save your savagery, lest I believe you mean me or my family ill will. Remember that men call us murder when we flock. Though you keep it hidden below your bluish mane, my keen eyes see the glint of the adornment about your neck. This implies you, too, have been raised in the air of civilized folk. If civil, it is best to act civil; and do have courtesy for my kind are courtly.”

Milo lowered his head slightly as the bird scolded him, and attempted to imbue as much of a tone of reconciliation into his voice as he said, “Meow.”

The bird cocked his head to either side and then fluttered his wings with a gleeful acceptance. “I'll take that as an apology. It was probably not nice for me to laugh. For a cat, you seem kind as well as cunning. I hope it will lead to friendship. Allies are needed in these times. Follow me now, hoy!”

He bounded into the sky and flew to a nearby tree. Milo gave a sigh and ran after the crow. When he got close, the crow flew out of that tree, shouting “Hoy, hoy, hoy!” and into another, leaving Milo to zig zag across the fields and over the shallow creeks. 

The water was clean and cool. He took a moment to sip up some of it, sweet and delicious. The whole of the place was beautiful as the warm sun shone on limpid pools. These pools gathered about them swelling clouds; mists which traveled into the sky on fog-chilled winds, their tendrils tracking Nephfew with a casual interest. But these bold wisps fled at the first barking puff of yellow swamp-gas that burped from mudpits surrounding hot springs, and retreated back to their ponds. As these ubiquitous mists each turned away in time, it was like the pulling back of dreaming curtains, revealing new landscapes, each of them a differing sort of lovely. 

But then, all the light fog hid entirely as the crow lead Milo into a place of more oppressive and bullying clouds that were in the sky, but low and threatening. As the thuggish overcast of clouds mobbed the horizon, this place became dark, and in this dark came a murky gloom that crept in slowly. These shadows began to cling to all things and washed away the wondrous beauty previously beheld. Instead of a paradise of gardens, Nephfew lead him into a dank underbrush of brambling thistle.

As Milo walked forward through these foul and sulfurous mists, he saw Nephfew join another crow sitting on the branch of a leafless tree. Then the two flew to a tree with three crows, then ten crows, then four and twenty, all flying to and fro. As Nephfew lead him he would shout “Hoy, hoy, hoy,” and every bird and view would echo “Hoy, hoy, hoy!” Their cries became a haunting round that rippled off into the distance. 

Suddenly Milo realized that Nephfew was lost in the crowd. He spun around, realizing he was in a small clearing with only a wretched stump of a long fallen tree standing like a podium in the center. Every tree around him was so filled with birds that it seemed that they were thick with vibrant and lively black leaves despite every trunk being barkless and dead. Suddenly with a unified cry, the gallery of murder shouted in a tremendous chorus of “HOY! HOY! HOY!”

Milo hunched down low to the ground with flattened ears and gave a terrified hiss, not in aggression or disrespect, but a pure fear reaction. He looked around frantically as they continued the shout, trying to hide behind the stump, but the birds were in every tree on every side of the clearing. A circle of them stood on the ground of that edge, blocking escape. 

Simply wishing to be as far away from them as possible, Milo moved to the center of the circle and jumped onto the stump. As he moved to the center of the broad broken trunk, he looked around to see that he stood alone on this stage with all eyes on him. 

But he wasn't alone, for as he looked behind him there was perched a large and ragged crow wearing an old orange dishtowel as a cloak, and a tiny, white eye-patch. 

Without saying a word the old crow moved in, then began to poke and prod at Milo as it circled him. The bird wasn't really hurting him but the pinching was painful and the crow smelt like an unpleasant mix of carrion and cheap bourbon whiskey. Yet Milo didn't hiss or growl, having been warned about being polite and fearing the consequence of infraction. 

This as it may be, he was certainly not enjoying it, and like the pokes and prodding of the occasional veterinary visit, Milo was happy when it was over. With one last indignant peck, the fowl let him be and returned to the opposite edge of the stump.

“Who?! Who?” The bird squawked, sounding more like an owl than a crow. “Who brought this cat to me?”

“I did,” said Nephfew, hidden in the uniform black of the arboreal gallery. “I am the crow who has lead this cat to our parliament hall,” he exclaimed firmly. 

Nephfew revealed himself from the others by swooping in from one of the tree tops to stand on the other side of Milo, putting him in a flanking position with the bigger bird. 

“He is from the world of the Real and cannot speak from his heart. However, his movements are wise and I heard him sing a song of lament from the treetops, singing of a loss unknown to me for his lack of words. I brought him here to you, great Unkle, so you might give words to his voice.”

Unkle considered for only a short moment before conceding the request. “Hoy. Very well. Even though he may be resistant, since he comes from the world of the Real, it should not be hard. Resistant, for the Real is a place which lies beyond the storm of dreams, where magic is stifled from the banishment that ended the Fall. It is also a place where even those minor magics naturally seek to shroud themselves in glamour. There has long been a decree of discretion by the Great Four, further aided in concealment by the banal flippancy that grows in lesser mortals who care not to see it.

“To initiate such mundane mortals from this situation is often a greater challenge, for they know what they know and are thus closed off from the green glow of the universe's heartbeat. They do not wish the knowings that knowing brings, but I believe this cat will understand, for there is a genius in cats. All cats are potent sorcerers in varying degree, and I see a great amount of mystic potency infused with this cat's spirit.” 

The big bird turned his attention away from Nephfew and spoke to the murder in general. “We will wake the song of his heart together, join me in this chant of greeting.”

A crackled chatter ruffled through the branches as the murder took note of the great Unkle's command. Then Unkle himself turned his head to the side to stare Milo straight on with his one good eye. “Cat! Greet me and tell me your name. Tell me your name proudly and tell me too, your title. Tell to me the title you apply to your manner and deeds. Speak to me with boldness. Speak to me with the beating of your heart. Tell me with the breath of your life, as if all you say is the breath of the trees and your speaking the heartbeat of the woods. Speak as if you are the voice of all nature.”

Milo was certainly intimidated, but he sat tall and puffed out his chest and attempted to do as he was told. But all that came was “Meow, Murr, Meh.”

To his surprise came a roar of the crows in a grand unity, “MEOW! MURR! MEH!” This startled him so greatly he almost lost composition and scrambled, but instead he held his position despite the impulse.

“Say again! Say again with your heart as the deep of the wood. Say again with your breath as big as the sky and let your heart become the rise and fall of the sun! Speak thy name and claim thy title!” Unkle shouted at him in a raspy caw.

“Merro, meh murr, meh meow,” Milo attempted again, but this time a strange tone took his voice. It was like something deep inside him was attempting to break free and in doing so twisted the quality of his mewing as it emanated from his throat. It struck him as the sort of gargling tone that gripped his cough whenever he had a hairball. The nervousness of the packed theater surrounding him watching his every move gave him a sense of stage fright nausea, but there was something more to his voice than a queasy gurgling.

“MERRO! MEH MURR! MEH MEOW!” the murder mimicked.

“Again! Feel it! Declare yourself to all of nature!” Unkle screamed in fervor. Digging as deep as he could, he gave a great roar and his own words shocked him as they left his throat, for although it seemed to him he was simply giving a loud meow, instead came words. 

“I am Lon-Milo the Rascal! Paladin of Ulthar!” 

The crowd fell silent for a long heavy moment before erupting in cheers of adulation and chanting. “His Name is Milo! His Name is Milo! Hoy! Hoy! Hoy!” Suddenly Milo felt dizzy and sleepy as if the weight of the day's expenditure hit him all at once and he began panting for the effort. Great Unkle seemed to notice this and gave a comforting caress with his wing on Milo's face.

“You have done well, but I know that such a spiritual task as unleashing your voice is draining. I shall dismiss the court and so we may speak in private.”

And with that, the old crow gave a deafening “CAW! CAW! CAW!” that drowned out the voices of all others. It brought them to a silence so severe Milo could hear a full three beats of his heart ringing in his ears. In a torrent the murder took to the sky in a great singular flocking, and then dissipated like the darkness at dawn, leaving only Unkle and Nephfew. The black birds disseminated into every distant direction. Milo could hear a few cackling out, “His name is Milo! Hoy! Ahoy! Paladin of Ulthar! Hoy! Hoy! Hoy!” 

“Come, Lon-Milo, we shall retire to my home and have some refreshment and rest. There you can tell us of your sorrow, regale us tales of your rascality, and inform to us the ways of your land of Ulthar.”

Milo was uncertain of himself, but attempted to speak. He managed a scratchy grumble and said, “Yes, Unkle. Refreshment and rest. This sounds wonderful.” He was shocked at how easily the words came to him in contrast to the prior attempts, although it still seemed a tongue twister to say any words at all. “Indeed! Wonderful, wonderful! Hoy, Hoy! Wonderful. I told you Unkle would help!” Nephfew squawked happily, and then flew off in what Milo presumed was the way to Unkle's house.

The old bird gave a chuckling croak. “The enthusiasm of youth, hoy! Running ahead and leaving both the welcomed guest and his elder behind. It is fine, though, he is a good boy. There are indeed troubling things too that we must talk about, but there is no need to fall heavy on his high spirits. Please, friend cat, friend Milo; follow us if you will.” 

With a hop he was off the stump, and with a bouncing waddle, Unkle began to walk into the dead wood swamp, giving a coaxing wave of his wing to Milo.

They walked for some time with Unkle leading the way, hopping on jutting stones and fallen logs to keep from the damp ground and Milo did his best to move in the crow's footsteps. As they moved, the swamp became wet with a dank sulfur smell of fetid decay that filled Milo's nose, causing a series of short huffing sneezes. He noticed fewer and fewer trees, and more and more stumps, each chewed down and fallen in the mud where they rotted into beds of fungus and green lichen. Eventually, the forest was behind them for a flooded field of stumps which Unkle and Milo had to jump between in order not to fall into the reeking bog.

A strange rectangular box overgrown with vines jutted out of the water on a small mound of mud. The wooden box tilted slightly to the side as it sat sunken into the undergrowth, and the crow flew up to perch upon its topmost corner. Unkle beckoned Milo to join him, and as he did, he noticed the object was some sort of old, large dresser or chest of drawers crafted by men. Elton had a similar piece of furniture in their apartment in which he kept winter coats, but the minor strangeness of the out of place antique was dwarfed in comparison to what Milo saw in the distance from this vantage. 

A great pile of trees, branches, and mud in the center of a sizable basin quagmire; the heap was as large as a mansion and decrepit like a junk- ridden hovel. The queer island glowed with wraps of intermittent Christmas lights and was adorned with strange trinkets, garbage crafted charms, and tattered streamers of cloth fluttering like flags. Each of the decorations were tied in place with tangles of filthy colored string in such quantity that the structure seemed to be bound together by yarn more than mud. Milo watched as a stinking wind blew over the sloughed lake in a visible miasma, causing the dangling bits of debris to swing and jingle like holy wind-chimes and the twinkling lights flickered.

“That is my home,” said Unkle. "It was once the home of wise beavers descended from the Great Animal Master of their kind. But long ago this master left them to sleep in a hidden cave deep in the Nightmare-Zone, and without this guidance, they sought other mentors. Seeing their desire to be taught, a Great Human Master of the West taught them the movements of machines and the keeping of time, and thereafter, their simple dam became a tremendous mill of incredible production. It was a glorious castle on a beautiful and crystal clean, vale lake.”

Milo looked over the unsightly muskeg. “It's not very nice now. What happened to it?”

Unkle gave a somber groan. “Their progress was wondrous. Unfortunately, like their Ancestor before him, the human Master did leave after a time to take on other duties, and thus left them to their own devices. 

“Some say it was the Greatest Sar-all who cursed them out of rivalry with the western Master, while others say it was the Dauphine- Despotissa Adélaïde who afflicted them with the sickness of men for learning the ways of men, as is her dark sense of humor. Still others say that it was the western Master himself, doing this for unknown reasons, for he was mysterious. Yet I believe neither the auspices and agencies of the Witch Queen, nor gynecocracy of the southeastern Sorceress, nor the ire of their old teacher. 

"I say it was they themselves who, in aspiration and with lack of reflection, fostered the same illness of greed and miserly deed that so afflicts the men of your world. Three hundred years ago the beavers began to claim all they could survey, hoarded all they could hold, and soon after the land was unlivable and it was filled with death. Those who survived had their hearts filled with melancholy as they fled their foolishness, and where they went, not even the crows know.” “That's awful!” Milo exclaimed in disgust. “They sound like idiots, how could they do this to their own home?” He looked around at the wretched mire and asked Unkle, “This place is sad and dreadful, why bring me here?”

The old crow set his beak agape in a jolly expression and gave a haughty cracking laugh. “Hoy-hoy! Because as they fled, abandoning the place they made, I long ago made it my home! It is the way of crows to thrive in the essence of death and it is our providence to seek to rule over the myriad fields of decay. What was once their horrid factory producing the putrescence that made a brimstone morass of their sacred pond, now is a magnificent cathedral for me to pursue my workings. For though no Great Animal Masters remain awake in this world or yours, it is still the way of the beast shamans to seek enlightenment. And although I welcome you and any other guest who might quest to find my consul, it is a distant and secluded heart in darkness in which I might work as the guru; undisturbed.”

Milo nodded although he didn't understand some of it. Although speaking and listing 'from the heart' was becoming easy with a quickness, there were still many things the crows spoke of and things about this place that were not only unsettling, but beyond his comprehension.

He decided to focus on more practical things, and as he saw the dam rising like an island from brackish waters, he saw no means to reach it as the stumps rising above the surface became rare as one might near the structure.

“I know you can fly there but I cannot, and I would hate to swim to it even if it wasn't a stagnant pool of mud. How might I get there?”

Unkle cocked his head at Milo and gave his one good eye a playful wink and sang in a low breathy throat-song. “Ahoy! Ahoy! Follow, watch closely, what is just below the surface rises up. Follow, watch closely, and walk upon water. Walk upon the water without wetting your feet! Ahoy! Ahoy! Hoy, hoy, hoy!”

And as the elder corvid sang the refrain over and over he did jump onto the surface of the water with steps that barely rippled the surface. Milo watched closely and was careful to jump exactly where Unkle stepped, and although it was like walking upon unpleasantly wet pavement, he realized that there were upright logs standing as pillars rising upwards to sit just below the surface and concealed fully by the opaque water. Eventually reaching the mound, Unkle disappeared into a hole concealed by a curtain of damp cloth. Milo pushed aside the veil and followed.

The tunnel downward was dim but lit with the same sparse bulbs that were fastened to the exterior. It was generally an unpleasantly slimy little hall covered in feathers and filth that led down in a twisting tangle. Even with his luminous eyes, the slits of his pupils strained as the path became utter dark. Unable to see the crow, he began to panic and lost his footing, sliding down the descending incline with a fleeting terror.

Then ahead was a sudden and intense light that blinded him. With an undignified flop, Milo somersaulted into a magnificent chamber of high opulence and sanctity. Small statues sat on altars, glowing candelabra chandeliers illuminated the room, and sweet incense filled the air, overwhelming the funk of the swamp outside. 

The room was full of bones but not littered with them; shelves of simple ossuary displayed ancestors with honor, and although most of the bones were obviously those of the crows, the remains of beavers and other animals were represented as well. It reminded Milo of the ritual chamber that Elton kept in the small side room of their apartment where he would wave around sticks and swords late at night saying strange words. As little as Milo had understood the strange habit of his friend, it reminded him of Elton and he missed him.

Milo became lost in thought at the overwhelming magnificence of the Unkle's grand cathedral, and the old bird gave a sharp and sudden caw that brought his attention back to the present. Unkle moved to invite Milo into a room off of the main chamber where it was discovered the younger Nephfew waited for them. It was a comfortable den whose walls were encircled by bookshelves filled with a weathered and worn collection of tomes, as well as various tchotchkes and doodads. The floor was covered with several layers of clean and soft pillows and blankets which were piled about a low table. Rising from the sea of cushions were several perches on which both Unkle and Nephfew sat, so Milo moved to join their circle by sitting across from them on a folded, eiderdown comforter.

On the table was a modest but appealing feast. A dish of clean water sat out for him next to a bowl of cream. A bag of cat kibble sat on the table open next to a large sack of birdseed, with some of each poured onto mismatched platters. There were also freshly opened tins of tuna and sardines set next to a cooling bowl of sticky rice, features that surprised him as these were rare favorite treats of Milo's. Less appealing were carrot sticks and apple slices, but these seemed to be favorites of the host as Nephfew was already chewing on one of the fruit cores. Several glasses held small live fish that swam around, but it was obvious that this was not decoration but an hors d'oeuvre. 

"Thank you,” Milo said with a nod to the crows. Then he snagged and swallowed down one of the live minnows before starting on the sardines, rice, and kibble.

After they all ate for a while, they began to relax. Now that Milo was able to speak to them clearly, he could answer the questions Nephfew asked him. 

“Tell us, why are you sad? For what did you sing your song of sorrow?”

Something made Milo feel foolish as he tried to compose an answer. It seemed that intention was how one formed words with this magical language, and thus uncertain of how he felt, he didn't know what to say. 

After much deliberation, Milo finally explained. “I was sad because I have lost my friend. I saw him split in two, one half dark, cold, and still, and the other a warm glowing translucence. His light body I saw traveling up the silver stairs, and so I followed, bringing me to this place. I am uncertain as to these things I saw, and how he came here, and I am befret with the dreadful idea that I will not find him again. He walked ahead of me in an unknown direction and having lost sight of him I do not know which way to follow.”

The crows listened and considered. After discussing shortly in their own language, Unkle asked, “Can you tell us of your friend and your friendship with him? As a shaman, I believe I know what fate was bestowed upon him, but it is best if you tell us as much as you can so I may tell you with certainty. And also, you claimed to be a Paladin of the land of Ulthar, I know not of this place. Tell us of this, too.”

Milo nodded and told this story: “To know of Ulthar, I must first tell you of Elton. It was about fifteen years ago that I met him. He had been in the woods on Halloween and it had apparently been his intention to pay honors to the Goddess in the full moon. I later found out it was his practice, on special dates, to go alone into the forest and dance sky-clad in honor of spirits. However, that night he had found that his sacred clearing had been invaded by a group of miscreants. As he approached he heard a kitten cry out, and this kitten was me.

“A group of three boys had pulled me out of a box the day before. In this box, I had been placed with my litter mates, and together we were placed on the sidewalk, set there in hopes to help us find homes to share with lonesome humans. It had been my naive belief and hope I was going somewhere nice, but their house was smelly, their loud music hurt my ears, and they were mean to me, and I had to catch bugs for food. I was just getting accustomed to their squalor when they threw me in a bag, and it was then that I began to panic.

“When they roughly pulled me out again I no longer had any misconceptions as to their hostility, and I responded in kind; trying to scratch and bite them as best as I could. 

“Although I managed to draw blood from two of them, biting the hand of one and drawing a raking slash across the other's face, they managed to overpower me easily since I was at the time very small, having been the runt of my litter. Thus they were able to hold me down on a large stone at the center of the clearing. 

“As the two held me down, the third held a knife in the air and shouted out all sorts of strange noises, and then called for the ‘intelligence of all the earth, of the moon, of the sun and all the planets to enter our sacrifice so we might gain that knowledge through our dark feast! Let your cursed hand be my hand and with it move my knife. Let this beast receive your curse, let it pay the price in blood as we take its powers!’

“Just as the speaker drove down his blade, he crumpled. My future friend Elton had crept up from behind and struck him in the back of the head with a heavy stick. ‘You fool! Don't you know the Law of Ulthar? Thou shall not harm cats!’ he shouted as he attacked. Such a display was enough to frighten off the two flunkies but unfortunately, not all harm was prevented. Although the kitchen knife was detoured from striking my neck where it had been destined, it instead struck me in my leg, crippling it.

“Elton might have run after the two men, but instead stopped and tended to my needs, ensuring that I was all right. He rubbed his hand against my face to attempt to comfort me in my pain. It helped somewhat, but my injury was severe. The pain brought with it various images of horrible things swirling around me, filling my eyes. 

“In an instant, they showed me many things, and my mind took a great focus, yet their shapes were terrible and frightening. I was afraid they would take me away, as the bad man had implied, but when they had tired of their tormenting teachings they swarmed at that fallen man, taking residence within him. It was at this point I lost consciousness from the loss of blood.

“I had feared that I was dying, but it was Elton again to the rescue; he took me to a doctor. My leg was lost to save my life but I learned to get on fine without it, and I was taken home to live with him. 

“He was kind and good to me, treating me as his closest friend, giving me fine food, and reading aloud to me many stories which I found entertaining and fascinating. Much of what he read was dry and technical, speaking of various manner of formula and symbolic meanings. Others were strange fictions, and exciting tales of dread, with his and my favorites being those of a man called Lovecraft.

“This man told fanciful tales, many frightening but fun ghost stories of sorts, but one in particular spoke of a city in the land of dreams called Ulthar. At my request, and Elton always seemed to understand me when I asked in my cat song though he was a man, he would read me this story. 

“In it, an elderly couple would hunt the cats that lived with the people of Ulthar. When the couple took a kitten from a group of nomads who were passing through town, the travelers cursed the couple for their misdeeds, and a swarm of cats banded together to enact that curse upon those wicked hunters. The people of that town then declared the Law of Ulthar: thou shall not harm cats.

“Perhaps I liked this story because I am a vengeful sort, although I have always sought to be relaxed and of easy temper. In both dreams and waking I found myself sworn to combat, fighting under the banner of that imagined place; claiming its valor in revelry and in many a late night brawl with the other cats on my block. I never meant any true harm, but it was necessary for me to fight fiercely until I bested each one. I am short a leg, but I grew larger, stronger, and more willful than any other in my domain. 

 “It seemed that vengeance was also permanently fixed in the heart of the bad man as well. One day many, many years later, as Elton and I walked down the street, the man attacked Elton with a poison-dripping dagger. To look at the bad man it was easy to see that the curse he called down had wasted him away, and perhaps this was his last desperate act to harm those who had denied him. 

“Although he was able to stab Elton in the stomach, I leapt upon his face in a fury. This knocked him back before he could finish his foul deed, and as I retreated to let him fall, he stumbled into the road and was flattened by a passing truck. 

“Elton was rushed to the hospital, and after a short time he seemed to have mended and returned home. Yet for the most of a year he was sick and did nothing but sit in his chair, reading aloud but little else. That is, until the day his body of light stood up and walked away from the dark of his form, and I followed him to this point."

Unkle seemed to understand and nodded. “I would believe I now know to what end your Elton may have traveled and in what form. But to understand this I should tell you of this place that men of your world call 'the Other-Side' and the natives call the New Hyperboria. The world of the real is surrounded by the Dream-zone above and the Nightmare-Zone below. The Nightmare- Zone is where the highest agents of nature serve the planetary intelligences, and through pact, guard the sleeping Animal Masters of ancient times in hidden caves. Below this frightful place are worlds of worse things: bad spirits.

“But here in the Above, reaching through the Dream-Zone, is this Other-Side: the place where wizards fled after the Fall, and the ancient cultures were rebuilt. The Great Animal Masters of old helped them build it. Their help was vital, but the act left them exhausted. They left the world in the care of the Human Masters under the lights of the divines, and they left to sleep in the worlds below. “Animal shamans such as myself still aid the workings of men and advise them to the balance of nature, but no animal has become a Great Master of the Way in the whole of the last epoch. The Opossum mother, the most powerful of those old Masters, was last to leave. She gave her name and blessing to the Grand Master of the North, but after that, the will of Animals lost sway. Instead, we either swear to the intrigues of the Masters, or isolate ourselves to our tribes. The Clans of the corvids seek to do both by doing neither.”

“That is interesting,” Milo hazarded with some effort to follow Unkle's words. “But what pray does that have to do with the division of my friend, and the movements of the half I followed?”

“It is important because the reason he may have come here is shaped by this place. The Other-Side is a land built of intention and dreams,” Unkle said to the agreeing nod of Nephfew. “We may speculate, but from our present vantage we know not if he has passed and his spirit has moved on, or if his soul was projected leaving his living body in stasis to await the soul's return. It is reasonable to speculate that he is a seeker, for his soul made a gate to this destination instead of the infinite other possibilities. In death, it is common to move here to the Other-Side where a magician might learn from the Masters to be reborn in power. 

“But if he lives, with his life projected from him astrally, his body might have been left in a state indistinguishable from death. It is common for one who can do this to be called by the masters to play part in their intrigues. 

“And in either case to know of our land and its conflicts will help inform your seeking which should find success by following his path.”

Milo was crestfallen to hear that Elton may, in fact, be dead, although he had considered this as a possibility, even when he had first climbed the silver stairs. It was a sorrowful although not surprising supposition. But Milo had all this time shoved the possibility to the side and ignored it, relying on the hope that the body of light was the truer form of Elton. 

“If he is dead, is my seeking futile? And if not, this idea of his living projection I do not understand. How might he leave his body cold and waiting while his dreams take form and walk in this land? It all seems strange to me.”

“His body alive or dead matters little in this place, for over time even weak spirits might regain substance and be as living again, even if forever banished from the Real. It is that wholeness of that spiritual body which matters far more. The only difference between a projection and a ghost is whether he remains connected to his body in the physical world, or if he is free from it.” 

Seeing the feline was still confused, Unkle attempted an example. “I have heard that cats are strong dreamers and might travel in their slumber but may return simply by waking once more.”

“That is so,” Milo confirmed. “The man, Lovecraft, implied that we cats travel to the dark side of the moon in dreams, but I have never reached that place. However, I have beheld many wonderful and terrifying vistas beyond the curtains of sleep. That, I understand.”

“Then understand that some lands are fair and others vile, like the shifting weather of a storm. These are the zones of nightmare and dream. These are safe lands of fancy, yet other more dangerous visions can be found. Some cats, particularly those brought to their mortal ends, may in such travels find a bridge of rainbows built by my ancestors. It is a land of eternal summer and delight, but those who journey there may not return from that place, though still blissful and alive within it.

“The Other-Side is like this, though not such a hidden or terminal destination as that summer land. But it is much more true than any land perceived in the zones of lesser visions. If you were to find your Elton here in whatever state, it would be his true mind and spirit, living on in a state tangential but yet parallel to the fleshly life, not a false vision. It would in fact be your friend to whom you would be speaking, and not a phantasm created by longing.”

Milo considered this deeply. Elton himself had spoken often of the art of necromancy and what qualified as black magick in one's ritual practice. The greatest summation of this, as best as Milo could understand or remember was, ‘that which clings too hard to the world, or desires for reasons other than Love or practicing the Great Work, is a dark impulse.’ To speak with ghosts was not evil, but to contact them for greedy or wicked reasons was what made such an act ill in nature. 

At this, Milo recalled another story by Lovecraft, a dark wizard named Joseph Curwen called up the dead to seek wealth, and blackmail others with information thought lost to time, and later was punished in measure. Milo's goals seemed purer to him. To speak again with his friend seemed no evil act, so Milo determined that alive or dead, he would still pursue Elton.

“Very well, if this is the case I will still seek. And if I seek I should know of this land and its ways for it is the land in which I will hunt for my ally. Tell me of where it is I am and who might be able to aid in my quest.”

“The place you arrived is the land of the West, those who would know what you need to know, previously lived in the South. Fate has already oriented you in the proper direction to seek this way, for you stand on the border of Appollon in the West and Selleneia in the South. 

“These swamps divide the land of the West from the lands of the South, and it is the way of me and mine to guard this border as a border, not as patriots of either faction. Four great clans of corvids keep all four borders in this manner and the other five clans fly between to trade gossip as they fly about. Powerful lords rule these lands, each with great powers, and the tone of the gossip traded from every beak of rook, raven, and magpie speaks of a coming civil war between these men. 

“Corpses may be a bounty on which my kind may feast, but a war between men of such power is a danger to life itself. I warn you for many great beasts wander this land who believe my kind to be spies in service to the Grand Master of the West, for he gave to us tribute in shining objects and we rewarded him with favor, but we swore him no fealty.

“Yet there are beasts who believe us sworn to the West that have themselves sworn alliance to the South. Most of these monsters are small but dangerous and have yet to move against my kind. But we fear it is but a matter of time. The Dauphine-Despotissa Adélaïde who was once neutral on her hidden island has come to find the ways of Appollon distasteful, and now swears to the realm of Selleneia. Given access for her oath, she is now free to whisper lies into the ear of the Witch Queen, the Southern Master, the Greatest Sar-all.

“The lies she tells are thus; that it is we crows of the West and the magpies of the East who give the vulture's agendas of espionage to jackdaw double agents. It is but lies, and I would know of such a stratagem if there was one. There is a family alliance between the crows and the jackdaws, as there is between all corvids, and they who passively served she who is most dreadful only reported the movements of the Greatest Sar-all but did not enact any ploy against her. Whether merely spies or true agents, the jackdaws were recently killed in droves for the hint that they may have been disloyal. Now they have been made refugees, hoping to make their way to this land where they might be protected.

“Their migration is slow, fearing that they would be shot down if they fly, and so are forced to cower and hide as they travel by foot. They flee with others that the witch queen has declared enemies, retreating from her tribes of berserkers and other animal servants; reptiles, amphibians, land-walking fish, filthy skunk-ape, and warrens of mice and rats.”

Milo interjected, “Politics such as these are beyond my understanding, and although I am sympathetic, I am left wondering what the peril of these blackbirds has to do with finding Elton.”

Nephfew excitedly interrupted his Unkle with the answer. “The Jackdaws are great seers. They long ago learned the arts of ghost scrying and all the virtues of necromancy from the turkey hawks, the vultures, and the condors. They would know better than any other where any spirit, live or dead, might walk in this world.” Nephfew then looked to Unkle to affirm his statement, and he did so with a coy cackle and a buffet of his wing to the youngster’s shoulder.

“Very well, so to find my friend I must find your allies. But you say that they are being routed? How would I hope to find them if their movements are so sequestered as to be concealed from detection? I am a seasoned hunter, but it seems that things found here are more hazardous than they are in my world. And what of the opposition, you said they are chased by evil mice and rats? Some sort of skunk? What danger might a batch of ornery rodents really provide?”

As he spoke, he was interrupted by a bone- shaking crash and his head spun to have this quiet sanctum interrupted by such a cacophonous explosion of action. There was a blast of some large thing erupting through the far wall of the dam. It was the prow of a ship, driving up logs and casting up the table, throwing food on the floor and swamping the cushions with a surge of wretched water. As he looked at the bow of the ship he saw the face of several rats peeking over the railing. Odd as this was, they were suddenly joined by another rodent face much more massive and terrifying: green molded fur, red bloodshot eyes, and wicked yellow fangs dripped as it leaned over the side of the ship, looming larger than a labrador.

Perhaps stranger than this gargantuan rat was another sizable rat who, though not so large as the monstrosity, was a huge ship-rat of the same size as Milo himself. But it was not his scale that distinguished him, but that he wore a pale, ruddy brown long coat with epaulets, and a black three- cornered hat bearing a jolly-roger. 

This pirate rat jumped up and balanced on the railing where he stood easily on his hind legs in full biped, which seemed to be an outright defiance of his natural anatomy. He wore one fingerless glove on his right hand, and in it he held a sword with a grip that seemed far beyond even the capabilities of a raccoon; it seemed he could hold it as well as any human could. Distracting from this frightening revelation was the fact that he was missing the hand opposite;  replaced with a large barbed hook adorned like a fly fishing lure.

“Yar! Avast! Wot a delightfully squalid little cove yeh gots here. I think that tonight we be eating crow with a side feasting of feline. Yar-haw-haw! Squee!” The captain bantered as he jumped onto the huge rat brute's back. “Forward! Attack and take to spoil what ye kan! Har Har!”

Milo was filled with rage, his claws flexing from his fingers as he sprung to defend his new friends.

To be continued