#followed by deadnaming in the next message

[bashful-berry]

i want to commit violence

for legal reasons it is not a confession of intent

[foxens-den-of-divination]

Yes, Another Tumblr Oracle Blog!

Hi, yall! I'm Foxen. You may know my main account @the-fox-jawed-cryptid or my witchblr @the-fox-jawed-witch or my Witchblr Writing account @afledglings-guideto-witchcraft.

This is my Paid Divination blog and a place where you can find all of my other magical services.

First, what I offer and the prices.

Paid Divination

This first section is all general ADVICE related spreads. I will not answer yes/no questions, medical questions, time sensitive questions, legal questions, or relationship questions in these spreads.

2 Card Spreads $4

3 Card Spreads $6

4 Card Spreads $8

+$2 any additional card added to a spread.

This next section is all based on relationship spreads. Again, I will not answer yes/no questions, medical, time sensitive, or legal questions. All relationship spreads are for ADVICE.

5 Card General Relationship Advice $10

6 Card How do I find My True Love Advice $12

7 Card Basic Relationship Advice $14

8 Card Manifesting a Soulmate Advice $16

10 Card Potential Future Love Advice $20

+$2 any additional card added to any spread.

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5 Card Deity Contact Advice Spread $10

Spirit Contact Advice Spread $10

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All of my readings are for entertainment and advice purposes only.

If you wish to use any of the spreads that can be found on this blog, feel free to do so. I will not interpret ANY readings that you have chosen to do yourself.

Free Readings are open again.

[kdinjenzen]

One of the simultaneously most horrifying and blatantly obvious things that people just ignore is that Cis Het White creators of any kind (and/or major companies) can, and will, go around doing whatever they want with little to no worry… while if a creator from any marginalized group says they “didn’t enjoy (insert thing here)” suddenly there are death threats, call out posts, and a harassment campaign.

I cannot tell you how many times I have both SEEN and EXPERIENCED this chain of events:

“Mr. Man Person Who Eats Babies and Company Who Forces Overwork While Underpaying Employees are teaming up to create a new thing called Rainbow Gay Happy Fun Time with Zero Queer or BIPOC writers/staff and show is full of horrible tropes and an entirely cishet cast!”

Everyone: *CHEERS AND PRAISE FOR A SHOW WITH THE WORD GAY IN THE TITLE*

Marginalized Person With A Small Following: Hey, anyone else notice that that’s kinda messed up? Anyway, I’m going to skip watching that show.

Everyone: UHHHH… KILL YOURSELF!? HOW DARE YOU! MR. MAN PERSON WHO EATS BABIES ONLY ATE BABIES 10 DAYS AGO AND SAID SORRY AND ALSO SINCE I CANT SEE THE INJUSTICES OF THE EMPLOYEES AT COMPANY WHO FORCES OVERWORK WHILE UNDERPAYING THEIR EMPLOYEES THEN I CAN PRETEND IT DOESNT HAPPEN SO I DONT FEEL A SAD-SAD WHILE I ENJOY THIS SHOW WHICH IS THE BEST GAY GAY SHOW THAT EVER GAY-ED! THE DEADNAMING OF EVERY TRANS CHARACTER WAS A GREAT WAY TO REPRESENT THAT GROUP THAT IM NOT A PART OF! ALSO I AM HAPPY THAT EVERY QUEER PERSON ON THE SHOW IS A COP! I AM NOW GOING TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE SENDS YOU HATE MESSAGES AND MAKES YOUR LIFE HELL FOR THE NEXT YEAR OR FOREVER MAYBE! I HAVE NO LIFE SO I CAN MAKE HATING YOU MY NEW JOB!

Marginalized Person With A Small Following: I wish you a very therapy.

[variablejabberwocky]

considering this year's birthday started with Chronic Pain Flairup At Ass-Thirty In The Morning, and then was followed up with being deadnamed by a "well wishes on your birthday" message first thing after waking up, i'm honestly surprised less things are on fire

like my birthday is a Hot Garbage Day just in general (one part from being in the middle of fucking july in the northern hemisphere, one part my shit-ass luck for "holidays", and about 3 parts my shitfucking body being a goddamn traitor loyal to murphy's goddamn law) so any time i can get the general level of fuckery under a certain threshold on it i count that as a win

so barring any fucking catastrophes in the next *checks clock an does some shit math* 2 hours? this is gonna get marked closer to the win category than the loss category

[kieranculkingirl]

I posted 6,691 times in 2022

179 posts created (3%)

6,512 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@youngestdaughtersyndrome

@andshecanproveitwasolidrighthook

@girlsanta

@twinprime

I tagged 2,696 of my posts in 2022

#succession - 232 posts

#words - 216 posts

#em.txt - 166 posts

#art - 166 posts

#vid - 124 posts

#gerard way - 79 posts

#aes - 76 posts

#fashion - 65 posts

#parallels - 63 posts

#films - 60 posts

Longest Tag: 141 characters

#she was my best friend and one time she asked who u had a crush on and i was like haha what if i said u 😳 and she was like ha funny now tell

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

i’m fine all day and then i remember Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you

108 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#4

hey everyone! i really hate to have to do this and i’ve never asked for money online before but i have never been more in need. me and my fiancé are both chronically ill and my fiancé specifically hasn’t been able to work due to it. i’m the only one in my apartment bringing in even a little money right now and having to support two other roommates with what i make.

rent is due in a couple days and we don’t have close to enough to cover it. add to that our energy bill which is already a month late and now has late fees and the next month added to the total, and the fact that we barely have enough to buy groceries or the antibiotics i just got prescribed.

i would really really appreciate any help i can get, even just a reblog helps so much and even just a dollar or two would benefit us!

my v*nmo: amandanw17 (pls excuse my deadname)

vnmo is ideal but i can also send my p*yp*l or c*shpp if u message off anon

i’m setting a goal of $400 to start!

147 notes - Posted October 30, 2022

#3

one thing about me is i am like na na na. then i’m like yeah yeah yeah

1,101 notes - Posted March 19, 2022

#2

i love when a new person follows u and u look at their blog and theyre mutuals with all your mutuals its just like omg a new member of the crew

5,231 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

beautiful baby triplets named control, alt, and delete

18,559 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[sirchubbybunny]

A guy I've followed on YouTube since I was 13 or so posted a video a few hours ago with a goodbye message. He's taken gap breaks, so I figured this was going to be another thing where he leaves but just comes back. The video opens with a project he's working on, his pseudonym he's adopting for it (and maybe future stuff) and why he's leaving his channel behind for something new.

I'm checking out his new channel and so far, it just has one video - the first half being the opener from the previous video and him talking about names and feeling this disconnection from his name. The way he described it is that his name sounds like that of a little boy, not a 35 year old man. He also spoke about how it feels like your birth name affects your personality in a way.

Man, does that fucking hit hard. I think coming at it from a trans perspective makes it feel even weirder. I think about the alternative option my parents would have gone with if my dad won the name debacle. It's one of those double-barrel name and imagining me having it makes my skin crawl. Had I been born cis, I would have been another 90s menace named Josh. I don't know if that's something they mutually agreed to or my dad would have had other plans - like naming me after one of his siblings.

I've been going on about names a lot. I've been dealing with it since I was a teenager and moreso when I was finding my name and identity into my 20s with finally being out. I've been stuck in the revolving door of liking, tolerating, having ambivalence, or just hating my name. I think it hit me super hard last spring. I remembered how if my deadname wasn't weaponized against me like a punishment, what I go by now has been met with the same. I'd only ever hear it in full if I was being scolded, put down, and shamed. I cannot find a way to break away from it, but I want to. I want to get away from these stains, but I don't trust it being safe in the hands or mouths of many. I don't have much self-respect, but I will give myself the courtesy to know when to fold and that certain people don't deserve the luxury to know my real name again if I change it.

I think about all of the things going on in my life and how I feel trapped by my name. I have even more excuses to change it and be free. My family is likely going to be moving to another state next year. I'll probably be in school and in my own place. I can start over without moving. Maybe. I think about what he said in his video and I wonder if I can just test out something new through my art like I planned in my 20s. I think only then will I finally feel okay enough to trust people with it. I'll just keep throwing wet spaghetti at the wall until something works.

I'll get in a loop where I just cobble ideas together to see how they sound and sometimes it works okay. But is it me? It may sound like a real name, but is it for me? I might ask my friends if they're on or get on over the weekend. I know my server has been saying someone has been on for days, but they've just been in idle mode - which is odd. I think that's like second or third base for friendships, when you trust them enough like that.

[gh0stchoir]

Welcome to the club, my boy! We wear or binders and trans-flags with pride! *high five?* Anyway: Can I request the Miya twins' childhood best friend coming out as trans to them? Just platonic fluff and wholesome stuff, (i.e. shopping for clothes). Don't ask me why, but I think they would be very supportive and the best guard dogs, next to Mad-Dog-Kyoutani.

“Just like us!”

Masterlist

Anime: Haikyuu!!

Character(s): Atsumu Miya, Osamu Miya

Pronouns used: he/him(trans afab)

Time set point: highschool

Warnings?: accidental misgendering(not by the twins)

A/n: this was so wholesome I smiled so much writing this,, n sorry if this is kinda short my head was goin bRRrRRRRRRRR shsksurujfj ALSO SRRY IF THIS IS KINDA SHITTY AAAAAH

Italics means past tense/memories, d/n means deadname

⚠️FEMALE ALIGNED= DNI OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.⚠️

Y/n sighed as he looked into the mirror, narrowing his eyes on himself. Today was the day, he’d tell his best friends that he wasn’t what they saw him as all his life. He wasn’t a girl, no, he was a boy. Just like his best friends.

Y/n sighed as he nervously fiddled with his phone, staring at the group chat between him and the twins. He sent a message earlier asking if it was okay for the two of them to come over to his house. They both agreed, less than half an hour ago saying they were on their way.

About five minutes later, a knock was heard from the front door. Y/n immediately got up and opened the door, seeing the twins looking at him.

Thankfully, they both called him by his name, not his old dead one. He had asked them to call him y/n instead of d/n(deadname) a bit ago, saying he felt like the name suited him better.

“Oh also!” Y/n smiled as he set down his bento on the table, eyes shining. The twins curiously looked at him, continuing to shove rice into their mouths. “I was wondering if you could call me Y/n instead of d/n. It feels more suitable for me, doesn’t it?”

Osamu thought to himself, saying the name again and again. He shrugged and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a nice name.” He began eating again.

“That’s a cool name! Of course we’ll call ya’ that! Don’t sweat it!” Atsumu smiled brightly.

“ ‘Eyo y/n! Happy to see me, huh?” Atsumu grinned, ruffling his hair and walking in the familiar house. Osamu shook his head and sighed, following suite. “Ya’ got a peanut for a brain, ‘Tsumu.”

“I do not!”

Y/n smiled, chuckling softly. The twins never failed to make him laugh and amuse him.

“Anyways…why’d ya’ invite us over so abruptly? Usually when ya’ wanna hang out, ya’ say before the weekend.” Atsumu smiled, raising a brow when he saw y/n begin to pace.

Osamu caught sight of this aswell, knowing he only did it when he was nervous about something.

“Well I uh- I wanted to tell you two something I’ve told no one…because I trust you both, a lot..” Y/n fiddled with his sweater, not breaking eye contact with the rug beneath him.

The twins curiously hummed in acknowledgment, both now intrigued.

Y/n inhaled deeply, and turned to face them. He breathed out slowly. “I-….I’m not a girl like you guys have always seen me as…I’m transgender…not a girl- I’m a boy..”

He felt warm tears begin to flow down his cheeks, not wanting them to say that he was wrong or something. He didn’t want them to laugh at him, tell him he was an idiot. Bad thoughts filled in his head as the silence grew unsettling and awkward.

“Is that why ya’ wanted to be called y/n and not- yknow the old name?” Osamu walked up to him, grabbing a tissue and wiping his tears. Y/n nodded softly, eyes blurry from the tears that kept coming.

Atsumu smiled and patted him on the back.

“Damn, now yer even more cooler! Not because yer trans or anythin’-! Just..because now our little friend group is more aligned! If ya haven’t noticed, me ‘nd my brother both are gay.”

Osamu sighed and nodded. “True, we never really…expressed that we were attracted to men. One day we kinda both brought up that we once both had a crush on some guy in middle school.”

Y/n stifled a laugh, watching as Atsumu huffed and crossed his arms. “I hope..this doesn’t change anything though..” Y/n mumbled, looking at the two of them. “I haven’t told my family yet-scared they’ll say something bad about it..I just trust you two a lot.”

“Of course it ain’t changed nothin’! In fact, we can go shoppin’ for some new clothes!” Atsumu smiled happily. The idea of just helping y/n by atleast getting clothes for him made him ecstatic.

Y/n looked at Osamu for reassurance, eyes lighting up when he nodded. The twins waited for y/n to change into some pants and a random t-shirt, Atsumu giving him his hoodie to hide his chest better. The twins kept in mind to get him a binder.

“They all fit really nicely..are you sure this isn’t gonna be expensive?” Y/n handed the clothes to Osamu who slightly narrowed his eyes.

“Expensive or not, ya’ like them. We are getting them for ya’.” Osamu ruffled y/n’s hair and led him to the checking out place in the store. The cashier smiled as he made small talk with the two, ringing up all the clothing. Y/n looked to see Osamu sighing and looking around. He sighed and rubbed his temple.

He turned back to y/n with an annoyed look. “Gotta go look for ‘Tsumu, be right back.” He walked off, searching for his idiotic twin as y/n nervously held the money in his hands. The cashier finished ringing up the clothes and looked back to y/n. “Well ma’am, that’ll be-“

“You mean sir”.

The twins appeared behind y/n, both with serious and slightly mad faces. The cashier gave an apologetic look and muttered out a quick ‘sorry, my bad’ before receiving the money and handing back their change, watching as the twins practically dragged y/n out of the store.

“Oi! Stop pulling me!” Y/n huffed, crossing his arms as he looked at both of the twins.

“Did he say anything else harmful?” Osamu set down the bags he held and gave an apologetic look. Meanwhile Atsumu glared at the cashier, cracking his knuckles.

Y/n sighed and ran a hand through his hair, slumping down on a bench. “No, only that..and ‘Tsumu, stop staring. It’s rude.”

The blonde whined, being to go on a rant as to why he should be able to “teach the guy a lesson” to make sure he doesn’t make a mistake like that again. Osamu deadpanned. He was extremely close to shutting his brother up by punching him.

“Ok ok we get it..anyways..wanna go home? I mean, we have been here for a few hours, and we have a couple of bags.” Y/n looked between the two. The both nodded, agreeing that it was time to go since it was almost nine pm.

As they all walked back to y/n’s house, they made small talk and passed along a few jokes. Y/n sighed softly and gazed up at the sky above. Specs of light, better known as stars, littered the sky. Some making constellations.

“Thank you both for today…it really means a lot, considering I’ve known you two since practically forever.”

Atsumu grinned, “of course, that’s what best friends are for. Now don’t you go forgetten that we are always here for ya’. If not the both of us, than one will be atleast.”

“He has a point. We will be here to help every step of the way” Osamu agreed with his brother, for once.

Y/n covered his face with his hoodie sleeve, wiping the tears away. He looked back up at his best friends with a smile.

“And ya’ better stay away ya’ hear me!! Or else we’ll kick yer butts again!” Atsumu huffed, watching the group scurry off with bruises and bloodied faces. He turned back to see his brother tending to y/n’s wounds.

“I’m sorry for them..just a bunch of stupid bullies. But like ‘Tsumu said, we’ll protect you again if they come back.”

He realized in that moment, they weren’t lying. They’d be with him, helping him, in every step he took. As best friends do.

“Thank you so much..”

[starshinesoda]

Horrible update, everyone!

TW: Abuse (Both human and Animal), Neglect, Transphobia/Homophobia, and Violations of Privacy. Read at your own risk

TLDR: Parents snuck into our private living area and I no longer feel safe, as well as many other sus actions. Need donations in order to get tf out. https://ko-fi.com/melebrius

---

Let me give a rundown of the most recent set of events.

Watched Stepdad grab the cat by the head and pin her down, calling her a bitch when she ran off. Literally inches from me.

I’ve been bitched about TO MY PARTNER about me “not doing anything” due to my growing number of issues like Arthritis and Lupus

Still being deadnamed/Misgendered by entire household, and mother keeps bringing up LGBT issues in order to debate them. 

Both parents are Trump supporters and seem to believe that he won? They like to debate that one too with me.

MOST IMPORTANTLY: Stepdad has COME UPSTAIRS to our private area either WHILE I was asleep, or while Partner and I were out briefly in order to take pictures of the room and proceed to YELL about how “dirty” the room is.

Continuing on previous point, the downstairs smells like a barnyard. The wild squirrel they insist on keeping is living in his own shit and is being sustained on only oreos and cereal unless I feed him some of my food (Vegetables, fruits, seeds/nuts)

The cat also rarely has her litter changed and is often yelled at or played with very roughly, causing her to distance form them and causing them to get MORE aggressive with her. I’m the only one she regularly approaches and shows affection to, my partner in close second.

Even with soundproof headphones, I regularly hear them yelling downstairs.

Though this next part is not recent, it’s a prime example of how my illnesses and myself are treated. The following is a quoted and censored message from partner’s mother, to me, after I was threatened and harassed by her stepson.

“I’m gonna say this to you. I will get on [Felon stepson] when we are home. You were warned our house could get loud & you would have to find a way to deal with it. We’re not changing our ways for anyone. As much as I can dislike [Felon stepson] I would have told you he did nothing wrong. The shit he said about  PTSD I will mention to him. But you have to learn that especially with summer things are gonna get louder. You will have to adjust.”

I’m expected to suppress my PTSD flashbacks/reactions, as well as be told that I’m in fact not disabled despite the mother having the same issues and being on disability for them. 

So I beg of you, please PLEASE donate. Even a dollar helps. I am afraid for my life and mental health.

The donation link again is https://ko-fi.com/melebrius You can also use paypal at https://paypal.me/calamitousorange 

I’m also going to throw some tags in down here because... I need help. And my anxiety with reaching out is no longer outweighing the fear for my life I have living here.

@posts-from-a-weirder-timeline @posts-from-a-funnier-timeline @one-time-i-dreamt @normal-horoscopes​ @yourfaveisgoingtosuperhell 

If anyone can reblog this, please do. I’m scared and I’m doing all I can but disability court proceedings take so long and I don’t know if I’ll survive until then.

[teddy06writes]

Gonna Fix It

requested by this anon: “hi!! could you maybe do something angsty and fluffy with Fundy (or anyone really) where the reader is a trans guy? he/him”  

Fundy x transmale!reader

trigger warnings: transphobes, homophobes, some swearing (I used the words tranny and fag) {I am both gay and technically trans please don’t come for me}

premise: When your dead name is leaked, along with photos of you pre transition the entire internet is quick to judge hypercritically, but your boyfriend is quick to take care of it

(y/n/n)- your nickname

(f/l/y/n)- first letter of your name

(y/d/n)- your deadname

“blep” talking

‘blep’ texting/messaging

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(y/n/n)!”

“Yes Tommy?” You asked.

“How’d you feel about selling drugs?” 

You snorted, glancing up at your face cam and the messages in chat before turning your character to face Tommy’s, laughing, “What?” 

“Do you want to sell drugs with me and Wilbur?” He repeated. 

You blinked, moving your character to look at the van and then back at him, “Tommy, I would love to sell drugs out of a van with you.” 

“Yes! We have secured another one lets go! Pogchamp!” 

You chuckled as Wilbur joined vc, following Tommy’s character over to the van as he announced, “Gentleman! We have a problem, we need to find a better cover for our operations.” 

You looked around the inside of the van, filled with brewing stands and furnaces, “A hot dog van.” 

“Pfff- a hot dog van?” Tommy laughed. 

“It would be a decent cover.” Wilbur admitted, “We should do it.” 

Almost reluctantly Tommy nodded, and Wilbur moved on, “Next on the order of business, we need new recruits beside just (y/n).” 

You grinned, “I know just who to ask!” 

You started to leave vc when Tommy warned, “No Americans and no women.” 

“You got it.” 

You left vc, talking to your twitch chat as you messed around in discord, “Weird lot, them boys. Anyway- apparently I’m a drug dealer in Minecraft now! And I’m gonna recruit someone else!” 

After a few messages through discord your boyfriend called you, “Hello?” 

Upon hearing Floris’ voice chat started spamming about you being a simp.

“Yeah so Tommy and Wilbur kinda roped me into selling drugs on the smp and they told me to get more people, so I’m calling you.” You explained. 

“Angel why didn’t you just come ask me? Was the call necessary?” 

You rolled your eyes, “Shut up chat I’m not blushing! It was easier than getting up. Are you in or not?” 

“Yeah sure.” 

~~

Child: ‘(y/n) big man’

Child: ‘big (f/l/y/n)’ 

(y/n): ‘what do you want Tommy’

Child: ‘get on the server we’re making plans for our country’ 

You sighed, quickly moving to boot up Minecraft, starting stream along with it and quickly giving an intro before logging on to the smp and joining vc. 

“Ayyy! Big man!” Tommy yelled. 

“Tommy!” You responded, though significantly less enthusiastically. 

“(y/n) come to the hto dog van we’re making important decisions.” Wilbur said. 

“Okay.” You headed down the prime path toward the van, listening to the others chatter. 

“Okay so we need a name for our country,” Wilbur said as you arrived, “Something that fits. I am open to suggestions.” 

“Pog something.” Tommy offered.

“ehhhhh.” 

“Pogtopia!” He exclaimed. 

You punched his character, “That’s so stupid.” 

“Well- hmm, we’re all men here soooooooo Manburg!” WIlbur mused. 

“It needs to be more European.” Eret said, tossing you some of the block to start helping with the walls. 

“L’manburg.” You offered. 

Wilbur and Tommy burst out laughing, “Perfect!” 

“No Americans and no women! Just the way I like it!” Tommy yelled. 

Everyone began to laugh at that, and you grinned, entirely unaware of the chaos beginning to unfold all over twitter, and even in your twitch chat.

~~ Later that night you ended up flopped across the couch, Floris sending you a text from his office, ‘Don’t forget to take off the tibby prison angel’ ‘I’ll be done with this soon and we can cuddle’ 

You chuckled, dragging yourself up off the couch and shuffling off to the bathroom to change out of your binder, and pull on a different hoodie, a bigger one that you had stolen from Floris.

By the time you were done and had come back out into the living room Floris had also emerged from his office, and was staring in horror at his phone. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“You haven’t been on Twitter lately have you?” 

Immediately you were going for your phone, taking it off silence to be bombarded by notifications, “uhhhh.” 

Floris bit his lip, “I think you should read it for yourself.” 

Quietly you opened twitter, checking first the hashtag that appeared at the top of your mentions ‘#y/nisalie’ 

Your breath hitched as you opened the hashtag, immediately seeing the original tweet, ‘#y/nisalie y/n has been lying to all of us a thread: apparently this tranny didn’t have the guts to put out that “he” was lying’ 

You scrolled through the tweets, ‘Man, I can’t believe (y/d/n) thought (y/n) was a good fake name’, ‘well at least we know Fundy isn’t actually a fag’ and then worst of all, ‘Guys I found what (y/d/n) actually looks like!’ followed by a picture of you, pre transition. 

The world felt like it was caving in as you slowly sank down against the wall, tears starting to flow, “How did this happen?” 

Floris was quick to sit down next to your, pulling you into his arms, “I dunno angel.” 

You turned, sobbing into his shoulder, “Why are they like this? Wha- what am I gonna do?” 

“I’m gonna fix this,” He murmured, “I promise.” 

You curled further into his embrace, tears soaking his shirt as he rubbed circles into your back.

“It’s gonna be okay angel, it’s gonna be okay.” 

~~ You avoided the internet at all costs for the next few days, not streaming, not being active on twitter or any other socials, hardly ever leaving Floris’ embrace for more than a few minutes as more and more notifications filled your phone. 

It took a lot of coaxing from your boyfriend to check your twitter notifications after two days, and when you did you were delighted to see dozens of positive messages from real fans, and messages addressing the situation from all of your friends.

Eret: ‘dudes (y/n) is litterally trans, is you can’t deal with that then get out of this community; it’s seriously not okay to disrespect someone like that.’

Wilbur: ‘guys remember when I said trans rights and trans rights until I’m dead? Well that applies to (y/n) as well so piss off and stop bothering them’

Tommy: ‘listen up, serious tweet for once: you guys really need to learn how to recover someone and there pronouns, stop calling big man (y/n) by his dead name or get off the platform’

Along with countless others, and of course one from Floris as well, who had made a thread as soon as he saw what was going on:

‘Guys, listen. My boyfriend is the most wonderful human being in all the world. Whoever leaked his dead name or went looking for pictures of him before his transition is honestly a monster and I hope you realize the weight of your actions. Apparently we as a community have a few things to go over,

1: respect creators boundaries, if (y/n) didn’t want to tell you he wasn’t born male it’s not your business, 2: respect people’s pronouns, if someone tells you to use he/him they probably know if there right or not, 3: you can’t fucking invalidate someone like that, and put them on display as a fucking hashtag.

4: if anyone ever tries to talk about my boyfriend like this, (using the wrong pronouns, misgendering, using his dead name or in any other way invalidateing him) I will personally make sure you are never allowed on social media again’

You looked up from your phone, “Y- you got them to stop?”

Floris smiled, “I told you I was gonna fix it.”

[traeumenvonbuechern]

June Wrap-Up

1. Can't Take That Away (Steven Salvatore)

Carey Parker dreams of being a diva, and bringing the house down with song. But despite their talent, emotional scars from an incident with a homophobic classmate and their grandmother's spiraling dementia make it harder and harder for Carey to find their voice. Then Carey meets Cris, a singer/guitarist who makes Carey feel seen for the first time in their life. With the rush of a promising new romantic relationship, Carey finds the confidence to audition for the role of Elphaba, the Wicked Witch of the West, in the school musical, setting off a chain reaction of prejudice by Carey's tormentor and others in the school. It's up to Carey, Cris, and their friends to defend their rights--and they refuse to be silenced.

2. Sanditon (Jane Austen)

Written in the last months of Austen's life, Sanditon features a glorious cast of hypochondriacs and speculators in a newly established seaside resort, and shows the author contemplating a changing society with scepticism and amusement. It tells the story of Charlotte Heywood, who is transported by a chance accident from her rural hometown to Sanditon, where she is exposed to the intrigues and dalliances of a small town determined to reinvent itself - and encounters the intriguingly handsome Sidney Parker.

3. The Witch King (H.E. Edgmon)

Wyatt would give anything to forget where he came from—but a kingdom demands its king. In Asalin, fae rule and witches like Wyatt Croft…don’t. Wyatt’s betrothal to his best friend, fae prince Emyr North, was supposed to change that. But when Wyatt lost control of his magic one devastating night, he fled to the human world. Now a coldly distant Emyr has hunted him down. Despite transgender Wyatt’s newfound identity and troubling past, Emyr has no intention of dissolving their engagement. In fact, he claims they must marry now or risk losing the throne. Jaded, Wyatt strikes a deal with the enemy, hoping to escape Asalin forever. But as he gets to know Emyr, Wyatt realizes the boy he once loved may still exist. And as the witches face worsening conditions, he must decide once and for all what’s more important—his people or his freedom.

4. One Last Stop (Casey McQuiston)

For cynical twenty-three-year-old August, moving to New York City is supposed to prove her right: that things like magic and cinematic love stories don’t exist, and the only smart way to go through life is alone. She can’t imagine how waiting tables at a 24-hour pancake diner and moving in with too many weird roommates could possibly change that. And there’s certainly no chance of her subway commute being anything more than a daily trudge through boredom and electrical failures. But then, there’s this gorgeous girl on the train. Jane. Dazzling, charming, mysterious, impossible Jane. Jane with her rough edges and swoopy hair and soft smile, showing up in a leather jacket to save August’s day when she needed it most. August’s subway crush becomes the best part of her day, but pretty soon, she discovers there’s one big problem: Jane doesn’t just look like an old school punk rocker. She’s literally displaced in time from the 1970s, and August is going to have to use everything she tried to leave in her own past to help her. Maybe it’s time to start believing in some things, after all.

5. Between Perfect and Real (Ray Stoeve)

Dean Foster knows he’s a trans guy. He’s watched enough YouTube videos and done enough questioning to be sure. But everyone at his high school thinks he’s a lesbian—including his girlfriend Zoe, and his theater director, who just cast him as a “nontraditional” Romeo. He wonders if maybe it would be easier to wait until college to come out. But as he plays Romeo every day in rehearsals, Dean realizes he wants everyone to see him as he really is now––not just on the stage, but everywhere in his life. Dean knows what he needs to do. Can playing a role help Dean be his true self?

6. The Cruel Prince (Holly Black)

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

7. Boy Queen (George Lester)

Robin Cooper’s life is falling apart. While his friends prepare to head off to university, Robin is looking at a pile of rejection letters from drama schools up and down the country, and facing a future without the people he loves the most. Everything seems like it’s ending, and Robin is scrabbling to find his feet. Unsure about what to do next and whether he has the talent to follow his dreams, he and his best friends go and drown their sorrows at a local drag show, where Robin realises there might be a different, more sequinned path for him . . . With a mother who won't stop talking, a boyfriend who won't acknowledge him and a best friend who is dying to cover him in glitter make up, there's only one thing for Robin to do: bring it to the runway.

8. Felix Ever After (Kacen Callender)

Felix Love has never been in love—and, yes, he’s painfully aware of the irony. He desperately wants to know what it’s like and why it seems so easy for everyone but him to find someone. What’s worse is that, even though he is proud of his identity, Felix also secretly fears that he’s one marginalization too many—Black, queer, and transgender—to ever get his own happily-ever-after. When an anonymous student begins sending him transphobic messages—after publicly posting Felix’s deadname alongside images of him before he transitioned—Felix comes up with a plan for revenge. What he didn’t count on: his catfish scenario landing him in a quasi–love triangle.... But as he navigates his complicated feelings, Felix begins a journey of questioning and self-discovery that helps redefine his most important relationship: how he feels about himself.

9. Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë)

Lockwood, the new tenant of Thrushcross Grange on the bleak Yorkshire moors, is forced to seek shelter one night at Wuthering Heights, the home of his landlord. There he discovers the history of the tempestuous events that took place years before: of the intense passion between the foundling Heathcliff and Catherine Earnshaw, and her betrayal of him. As Heathcliff's bitterness and vengeance is visited upon the next generation, their innocent heirs must struggle to escape the legacy of the past.

10. Ace of Spades (Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé)

Welcome to Niveus Private Academy, where money paves the hallways, and the students are never less than perfect. Until now. Because anonymous texter, Aces, is bringing two students' dark secrets to light. Talented musician Devon buries himself in rehearsals, but he can't escape the spotlight when his private photos go public. Head girl Chiamaka isn't afraid to get what she wants, but soon everyone will know the price she has paid for power. Someone is out to get them both. Someone who holds all the aces. And they're planning much more than a high-school game...

11. The Queer Principles of Kit Webb (Cat Sebastian)

Kit Webb has left his stand-and-deliver days behind him. But dreary days at his coffee shop have begun to make him pine for the heady rush of thievery. When a handsome yet arrogant aristocrat storms into his shop, Kit quickly realizes he may be unable to deny whatever this highborn man desires. In order to save himself and a beloved friend, Percy, Lord Holland must go against every gentlemanly behavior he holds dear to gain what he needs most: a book that once belonged to his mother, a book his father never lets out of his sight and could be Percy’s savior. More comfortable in silk-filled ballrooms than coffee shops frequented by criminals, his attempts to hire the roughly hewn highwayman, formerly known as Gladhand Jack, proves equal parts frustrating and electrifying. Kit refuses to participate in the robbery but agrees to teach Percy how to do the deed. Percy knows he has little choice but to submit and as the lessons in thievery begin, he discovers thievery isn’t the only crime he’s desperate to commit with Kit. But when their careful plan goes dangerously wrong and shocking revelations threaten to tear them apart, can these stolen hearts withstand the impediments in their path?

12. Weekend Girl (Alex Powell)

Ashley Kingston is a genderfluid university student with a major crush on attractive and charming Nolan. He seems just too perfect to be true. What happens when Ash meets Nolan while dressed as both a man, and a woman? And even more confusing, what happens when Nolan seems enamoured of both versions of Ash? A twisty-turny romance filled with fun and shenanigans.

[alpaca-writes]

Mystics, Chapter 4

When Arch becomes hired on at Mystics, by Lyrem, everything seems to be going well- their life nearly becomes perfection. Soon enough, however, Arch realizes that perhaps not everything is as good as it seems....

Directory: [chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three]

CW: deadname use, sickness/nausea/vomiting, torture obviously, minor character death.

CHAPTER FOUR: SOMEWHERE BETWEEN LIFE AND DEATH

Arch’s head lifted slowly from their pillow, in daze, they weren’t exactly certain of where they were, but soon they recognized the cheap wooden panels of their basement bedroom wall and closed their eyes again.

The alarm went off- not one that was programmed into their phone- as it almost never was- but the more reliable one calling their fake name from above.

“I’m up!” Arch’s own voice pained them to hear. Did they sneak drinks from their mom’s vodka stores last night? No, not last night...

Maybe they had caught the flu from somewhere. Thinking back to the previous night, Arch remembered an uneventful evening of low sales and walking home… Nothing amiss. They didn’t even remember catching a chill. They rolled over slowly, the room spinning above them to check their phone. It was 7:10 am. Their bus would be arriving shortly. The feeling of utter dread filled them as usual and then a sudden, unmistakable fear. The adrenaline alone was enough to launch them from their bed, but then Arch’s body fired back with an overwhelming nausea.

They were going to be sick.

Arch reached for the trash can in the corner as they fell with their knees to the floor and missed.

Puking up bile, and heaving, Arch heard the sound of rushing footsteps from above coming down.

“What on earth”-

Arch couldn’t reply, but their mother supplied them with a bucket and pressed a hand onto their back- as if that was supposed to help.

“What were you doing last night that’s got you so sick!?” She touted over them angrily. “Were you drinking? Doing drugs again?”

Arch was caught smoking pot once over a year ago- strange how they would never be able to live that down.

“For Pete’s sake, ----!” The alarm bell had been trilling for a long time. Arch was amazed that they could even hear it any more. “You were out past ten last night. Is it that new job keeping you late? That’s against child labour laws, you know! I’d like to have a word with your employer!”

Burping up an acidic aftertaste, Arch leaned away from the bucket and wiped their mouth slowly. The nausea was gone.

“Food poisoning.” They said breathlessly. “Must’ve been food poisoning.”

“Clean this up and then get back into bed!” Their mother snapped. “I’ll bring you some water, but then I’m going to work. Need to pay the bills here somehow!”

Arch took their mother’s advice, and cleaned up as much of their vomit off the carpet as they could. From the stairs Maleficent stared at the spot with keen interest as Arch looked at the cat with a disgusted sneer.

“You’re a nasty little creature,” they said.

Dropping back into their bed, they were teetering on the edge of a restless sleep when their phone buzzed next to them.

It was Lyrem. It still mildly amazed Arch that he was technologically adept for his age. The message read:

expecting delivery tonight so will be staying late. No need for you to come in if you’d rather catch up on schoolwork.

Ha. Catch up on schoolwork. Arch replied:

sure. much appreciated.

Serendipity was a term rarely used by Arch but in this particular moment, they were certainly thankful for how the universe seemed to be taking care of them. It certainly did a better job than anyone else they knew.

--------------------

The skull glared out from the showcase. The eyeholes seemed a little scratched from where someone had tried to clean it with the wrong instrument and the wrong solution.

Lyrem studied it from every angle he could. He had been at this for hours. The deliverers’ patience began to dwindle, along with that of their security guards. The seller had made it abundantly clear to give Lyrem as much time as he needed to decide how much he’d be willing to pay- so they straightened their back out, nearly forgetting their posture, and dealt with the man who seemed to be too nit-picky for their liking.

“You are sure it’s genuine Mayan?” He asked.

“A sacrifice to Quetzalcoatl himself,” the deliverer replied assuredly. “No others had been recovered in such pristine condition. Guaranteed.”

Lyrem breathed deeply and looked up at the deliverer. “Remove the barrier.” He requested.

The deliverer looked at him strangely. “I’m afraid that is against policy, sir.”

He raised a dark grey brow, his nose wrinkling with a sudden sour distaste that expressed his displeasure playfully.

“Your client knows who I am.” He spoke quietly. “Get them on the phone and explain to them that I will not make an offer until the barrier is removed.”

“Sir”-

“Now.” Lyrem interrupted, steeling his gaze.

The deliverer huffed, pulled out their phone and made the call outside the store. Lyrem watched them through the windows. After several minutes, they returned, shaking their head. He looked at them with a disappointed scowl.

“I don’t make deals on fakes,” he clarified. “Either remove the barrier or I will not make a deal- and I know that your client would love it if I made a deal.”

The deliverer frowned, and their eyes darted from the pedestal and back to Lyrem. He was standing there in the store, confident that they would make the right decision eventually. He approached them, and stared deeply into their blue eyes. His expression had a certain menacing charm.

“Think about the respect you could receive, the promotion, the splendor- if only I can know exactly what is behind this glass- it could all be yours,” he spoke softly.

This one had been broken well, but not well enough.

Retrieving a set of keys, the deliverer began to unscrew the locks from each side of the case; four of them in total.

Lyrem massaged one of his hands with the other as he watched the skull become uncovered. He held high hopes for this one. The security team moved in as he approached the piece, but were stopped by the deliverer in question. They had come this far. At this point, they had no choice but to trust Lyrem’s expert judgment.

The shop-keep closed his eyes, and in an instant, he was engulfed in shadow. The deliverer stepped away instinctively to avoid the darkening fog and watched on in terrified horror.

The shadows entered Lyrem until they were only visible through his eyes. Wisps of the fog slowly leaked from his orifices, and he approached the skull once more. He raised a hand, placing it over the top of the skull and spoke with a voice that belonged not entirely to himself:

“SHOW ME YOUR TRUTH”

The sound rung hollow through the store, as though it had transformed into a cavern for just those few seconds.

It only took a moment before the shadows drifted away, and Lyrem returned to himself. He pulled a napkin from his inside pocket and wiped away a couple drops of ectoplasm from underneath his eyes, and sniffed.

“Tell your client I will give him nothing.”

“What?” Forgetting themselves, the deliverer gasped, enraged by the decision. “I broke rules for you!”

“And aren’t you happy about that? Now you can race back to your little ‘client’ and tell them that the item they tried to sell me was a fake. I will not deal in a fake. I will never deal in fakes.” Lyrem stepped back from the pedestal, welcoming them to screw the locks back into the display. “This skull is Incan, not Mayan, and it’s certainly not a sacrifice- he was a fucking alpaca farmer for crying out loud.”

The deliverer shuddered. They couldn’t go back to their client with news like this, they wouldn’t live to see another day.

“This- this can’t be right.”

“It-it is, I am afraid.” Lyrem mocked ruthlessly. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind getting out. I’ll need to carry on a conversation with a few of my new friends- seeing as I’ve wasted much of my energy with you idiots.”

The stand was covered in a black cloth just as it had come in originally. Lyrem ushered them through the side door of the shop and followed them out, locking the door behind him.

The deliverer muttered to themselves, the confusion that had been dropped before them. Lyrem tutted with a fake sympathy.

“Before you leave,” he added, with just the slightest tinge of genuine wisdom to his voice, “Understand that I have my own bargains to uphold, just as you do. If your client is serious in gaining favour with my client, then cheap attempts to trick me, will not get them what they want. You can tell them that for me, if you wish.”

The deliverer nodded, and entered their black van as the object of interest had been secured into the back. They drove off slowly down the damp alleyway of reflected pools of streetlight. Lyrem turned, and unlocked the door to his storage area. He closed his eyes tightly, held his breath, and stepped over the threshold.

His eyes were opened the moment he heard the door click closed behind him. The darkness was unrelentingly thick. His footsteps sounded dull, and softened against the floor. Clapping his hands twice turned on some lighting from an indiscernible area.

The captives squealed as they hid away from the sudden brightness.

Lyrem smiled as he disturbed them. The shackles jingled heavily against the wall as they straightened out, pressing their backs further in, in the effort to keep away from the strange, looming man.

He looked to each of them fondly. None of them dared to speak. That was good. It meant that he had already left a lasting impression. It meant that they had already tried and failed to scream and be heard from someone outside. But this storage room was soundproof and built to perfection on the border between worlds; a mixture of celestial, earthly, and infernal construction. His absolute favourite style of architecture- besides Manueline, of course.

“Hm.” He hummed, and scratched the back of his head in thought. He only needed one of them to regain what energy he had lost. “Which one of you should I choose first?”

Marcus flinched backward. Lyrem shook his greying head at him.

“Oh, I will have to save you for last. I hope you don’t mind being locked away for weeks on end. In fact, I think I may save you for a more special occasion.”

He switched, turning his gaze onto the boy Kyle and met his eyes. The boy tried and failed to look away from him. His eyes darting back every second just to check if Lyrem was still studying him.

“What’s wrong? Having a bit of trouble speaking up?” Lyrem tutted. He angled his head towards the girl. “What about you? Will you pick up the mantle? Go on, sweety. Show these boys what true bravery is.”

Jess’ eyelashes had begun to fall down her face. Her make up smeared and ran down her cheeks from the constant tears, and was only worsened by Lyrem’s taunting hand, softly wiping them away as he squatted over her. He pouted, mimicking a sympathy that mocked her from head to toe.

“Don’t touch her!”

Lyrem lit up with joy.

“Finally! A winner!”

Jess sobbed as the attention was driven from her to Kyle. “N-no, no, no,” Her voice repeated incessantly. “Please stop- please. I’m so sorry for what we did. I-I promise, it- it won’t happen again.”

Lyrem stopped at Kyle, and moved his lips as he made his decision between them. He looked at Jess. He placed his elbow onto the back of his hand that sat across his upper abdomen. The other hand rested under his chin and it looked more like he was busy judging a piece of artwork, not debating who he would like to kill first.

“You really couldn’t make this decision easy on me, could you? On one hand I would love to make this piece of shit suffer,” He kicked Kyle’s manacled feet around lightly as he regarded Jess with gleeful sadism. “On the other hand, you are so adorable when you’re scared.”

Lyrem took another pause before fully making his decision. Pulling out a blade from his belt around his side, roughly the length of his forearm, he pointed it toward Kyle carefully and knelt down in front of him.

“This is for what you did to my Segovia album.”

Lyrem dragged the blade along the top of the boy’s cheekbone, giving him one smooth slice under his eye several inches long. Kyle whimpered, feeling the sharp sting linger for what seemed like an eternity and began to shout out as the blade continued into the more sensitive skin just underneath his eye. The jingling of chains around his arms and feet grew louder as he tried to ease the pain; too fearful to move his head, lest the point of the knife met his eye. The shouting cries and jingling ceased as Lyrem pulled the blade back.

“You scratched it, so now I scratched you.” Lyrem smiled lightly. “You see?”

Kyle’s eyes opened as blood poured down from one side. Sweat and tears mixed together to add to the stinging pain cut across his face. Lyrem cleaned off his blade onto Kyle’s shirt collar. He gasped as it reached dangerously close to his neck.

Lyrem stood over them again, waving his knife eloquently. His eyes rested on Kyle.

“Now, I do believe I have made my decision.”

Kyle closed his eyes tightly, knowing it would be him- certain of it. He heard a whimper, then a slice, and then gurgling.

He turned his head. Seeing Jess’ neck dripping a steady stream of blood down her blouse, he cried out; his mouth was left gaping as he had no hands available to cover it with.

Lyrem hovered over the body for a while, still gripping the hair that felt like nylon between his fingers. She was still somewhat alive- the expression was clear in her blue eyes that were beginning to look a glassier with each passing moment.

“The whining was already becoming a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

The boys didn’t answer Lyrem. They didn’t say anything as Jess’ spirit left her body. Lyrem licked Jess’ blood off the edge of his knife, grinning.

[modglobug]

Hey! How are you doing? I hope you're getting better!

You're awesome, amazing, unique, special, wonderful and so much more! Make sure to rest and have some fruit and water! Stay safe and positive!! ( ◜‿◝ )♡

Hey! Sorry for not responding to the previous messages, promise I'm not ignoring you!! 

Been busy, finished a commission that's been on the back burner for months, since I didn't feel like my skill was where I wanted it to be for it, but its done! Im actually about to re-open those, so hey everyone, look out for that lol.

 And thanks for the kind messages <3 They do mean a lot!! Been busy, legally changed my name!! Changed it to my preferred name over my deadname, as well as made my last name my bio dad’s name which I'm super happy about!! I’ve also been taking it easy on myself, as my meds are changing due to changes in my mental health. Im also (safely!!) going to travel for a bit next month, which I’m looking forward to. Been playing Watch Dogs, Genshin, and drawing stuff on my @gloandtheskelefamily blog. Which, was recently followed by an artist I admire so AHhHH. Thats been my like, last couple of days. How have you been?

[onisiondrama]

Onision: IRL EP: 2 - Onision’s Response videos summary Part 4 (Final part for his Reacts channel responses to episode 2.)

These videos are all over the place with everyone referring to Kai with different names and using different pronouns. I'm just going to refer to him by his current name and pronouns.

In the video summaries, I’m going to refer to James as “Onision” during documentary clips and “James” during his responses. Hopefully that makes things easier to read.

"Onision Documentary Dead Names and Misgenders Trans Man Repeatedly" (7 of 8)

Clip from the documentary plays. BigMoneyOnision says Onision is the most reviled person on the internet and someone needs to hold him accountable. James insults BMO’s appearance and says, "what the hell is this creature?" BMO says he's been following Onision for over a decade. James calls him a loser. They play a clip of Jaclyn Glenn saying Onision calls himself honest as a shield so he can be a dick. James plays a clip of Jaclyn saying she wishes him the best that he has a beautiful family. James says she doesn't sound like a very consistent person. He says one day she hates him, the next she doesn't, and now she is hating him again.

That clip of Jaclyn came from her response to his 2018 public apology to her. Hmm.. first he hates her, then he likes her, now he hates her. Seems inconsistent. 🤔🙄

Steven says Onision's relationship to Kai was his longest and most complicated relationship. James says he doesn't know what he's talking about. He says they're still married to this day. He points out they deadnamed Kai and says Kai hates everyone involved with this documentary. Steven continues to talk about Kai, but every time he misgenders Kai, James pauses it to point it out and tells them to stop misgendering transgender people. Steven says Kai would constantly reply to Onision's twitter. 

In the beginning of the second episode, the documentary has this text:

I don't buy it. Everyone who misgendered and deadnamed Kai during the storytelling parts continued to misgender Kai throughout the rest of the documentary. It's a mess and people call Kai by three different names throughout the whole show. I think the people who made the documentary were too lazy to tell the interviewees to either consistently misgender / deadname during the appropriate times for story telling / timeline purposes or to get everyone to call Kai by his current name and correctly gender him. Everyone who was interviewed seem to be on a completely different page when it comes to talking about Kai.

Steven says by December 2012, Onision and Kai are married and Kai's parents don't understand why a man nearly 10 years older married Kai within months of meeting. James says that's a lie and he's on good terms with his in-laws. He says they all flew across the country to be at "my” wedding. He calls Steven a dumb-ass. James shows a photo from his wedding and points out Kai's father, mother, step-dad, and sister. He says Steven recklessly said they don't support their unity, yet here they are supporting their unity. He says, "you guys are an embarrassment to journalism."

So James' #1 evidence that Kai's family is on good terms with him is the fact that they showed up to their child's wedding 8 years ago? James is conveniently leaving out the multiple videos he's made about how Kai's father tried to break them up while they were dating due to their age gap (17 and 26) and the grudge he’s held against his father for years. James even banned him from their home a few years ago.

"Onision Documentary Slander, Complete Embarrassment to Journalism, Discovery +" (8 of 8)

Doc plays. Clip of Repzion saying he didn't write the letter. They show a clip of Onision saying Repzion is the reason people are afraid to post videos online, because of psycho, creepy stalkers like him. James shows the email from Repzion apologizing to him back in 2017. He says Repzion is admitting to sending his in-laws an email and apologizing for it. He says his in-laws are no-doubt disgusted by him.

I just want to point out, the clip of Repzion was from when James was accusing him of sending his in-laws a physical letter in the mail. Repzion admitted to sending them a Facebook message and denied sending the letter. DSSCTM admitted to sending the letter.

James shows this on screen:

Edwin says Onision was pressuring Kai to date a girl. James says Edwin is being transphobic by misgendering Kai. Steven says we don't understand what was going on behind the scenes, but whoever Kai was is gone. James says they don't understand what went on behind the scenes, yet they make a whole documentary about it. He says himself and Kai don't talk to the doc because they are idiots that self-admittedly talk about things they don't understand.

Shiloh says she watched Onision break Kai like he broke her. James says he never called the cops on Billie or Sarah, yet he called them multiple times on Shiloh because she's a "psycho bitch." He says everyone else he dated were all way better than her. He shows thumbnails of videos he uploaded with Shiloh to his main channel and he says you don't see someone being broken. He says in the "My Girlfriend Is Beautiful" video, you see her have a mental breakdown and him being supportive. He says she thinks she can just eliminate his entire video library that proves their final videos were all positive and she fabricated the entire abuse concept. He says she got caught cheating and getting pregnant with another man's baby and she didn't like getting caught so she fabricated the abuse story. He references his page about Shiloh and goes over points he's already made in previous videos. He says she's proven a pathological evil liar.

Doc plays a clip of James and Kai with Kai looking uncomfortable. James jokingly says, "add that to the abuse reel." Edwin says he believes James is molding Kai. James says Edwin has no excuse for misgendering because they just announced Kai identifies as a guy. He says Edwin continues to misgender Kai because he's a piece of shit.

Shiloh says she no longer believes that Kai is a victim, she thinks Kai is a predator. James says it's a waste of time to speculate and it's an opinion reel.

The doc tells the story of Alicia Kozakiewicz. James says it's inappropriate they brought up a story that has nothing to do with himself and Kai. He says he's a law abiding former US air force cop.

He goes through his Sarah page on his website to prove she wasn't groomed. He says he found more texts and is going to update the page. He says Chris Hansen and anti-o's are morons for believing anything illegal happened.

Alicia K says she believes Onision and Kai found venerable victims. James says they're using the chick who was beaten and violated to speculate they are bad people. Alicia says they became friends with the girls, then they took away their power. James challenges Alicia to do research and look at his Sarah page. He says they blatantly ignore the texts he shared because they want to cash in on a fraudulent #metoo. He says there literally no actual victims.

Text on screen says in 2012, Kai begins an online relationship with 15-year-old fan, Regina. James says Kai was 17 for the majority of 2012, so it was a 2 year age gap. He says the first time he was Regina was on Chris Hansen's interview. He says they apparently dressed up as a dude to be on the show twice. [He plays the same clips as every other time he accused Regina of this. 🙄] He says the documentary admits Kai never met Regina.

I don’t think this needs to be said, but Regina did not pretend to be another person to get on Hansen’s show. Also, James was so upset the documentary misgenders Kai, but he keeps misgendering Regina.

Regina says they initially lied about their age to Kai. Regina told him they were 19 when they were really 15. James says Regina admits they'll lie to your face. He calls Regina a "stone cold liar."

Even though Kai did the same exact thing to James that same year? He lied to James about his age, yet Kai is not a stone cold liar?

Regina says they asked their mom if they could visit Kai, but she said no. James says he doesn't know what Regina is talking about. He says that's news to him. He doesn't know why Regina would visit them. He plugs his Sarah page again.

[iamapincushion]

my story part 3

a/n: this is a edited version of my thoughts when I was in the hospital. I remember pretty much every detail. it gets pretty deep. its also kinda all over the place  and if you have questions i am happy to answer so just ask them in the comments, reblog, message me, or ask in the question section of my page.

Thursday October 24, 2019 6:30pm. 

 My nurses came in and said I had to take insulin because my pancreas doesn't work right. So they showed me how to do it and they did it in my arms. It really hurt and I cried but I knew somewhere in my head I would have to do this every meal and every night for the rest of my life i just didn't want to except it, I didn't want to be there until Sunday i wanted to be a kid and go to school, I wanted to not stay on one part of the hospital.   

Friday October 25, 2019 

I didn't sleep at all. My mom stayed with me all night. They woke me up every 2 hours to check my ketone levels, and blood sugar. I was so hungry but I didn't want to take my insulin. I am sad I can't do the community sing today. I'm glad a few people have texted asking where I am and how I'm doing. I was really lonely. I wanted to see my friends.

Friday October 25, 2019 7:00 pm.  

Okay, a lot just happened. Aunt Gloria (dads sister) just brought the kids who were in their Halloween costumes because they're going  to a trunk or treat. They adore me, which made Jack (younger cousin age 7) get upset when he saw the nurse next to me flushing my iv. My dad told aunt Gloria that Jack getting upset couldn't make me upset because it will affect my blood sugar if I get upset. It wouldn't make me upset. She said I don't think it will make me upset but i will make sure it doesn't. Then asked me if it would make me upset and i said no and then my dad was like I don't care what she says it's going to make (deadname) upset and was all talking for me when I'm 12.5 I know my emotions by now. So my mom, aunt Gloria and I walked to the playroom with the kids my dad followed. Aunt Gloria was crying at this point and asked my mom and I and said this isn't all right, right? My mom says this is how he's been all day. And then my dad grabs Aunt Gloria on the shoulders and says if you try and turn my daughter against me again you will not be allowed to see her for a long time. Then as she and her kids left he cursed them out. I am really upset about it. I just texted my other aunt to come see me. I really need her. Right now I'm alone watching YouTube on my iPad. I want… no I need my friends right now. I'm super pissed at my dad right now. I hope he leaves my life forever.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

Royal Growing Pains - Chapter Twenty

Warnings: Homophobia, transphobia, misgendering, sympathetic Deceit

Royal Growing Pains Tag

The worst bad thing about the rest of the dance practice was that Roman’s mother was there, so everyone had to deadname him. The second worst thing was that he was constantly getting criticised by his mother on his dance moves. The most irritating thing of the whole experience was that Damien seemed to do everything Logan was teaching them near-effortlessly, while Roman struggled to keep up.

They took a quick break after half an hour of dancing and Damien checked his phone, before immediately laughing. “Your brother is interrogating me,” he said in a low voice, showing Roman his phone.

Roman looked at all the questions Remus had spammed in the group chat before rolling his eyes and pulling out his own phone. re, cut it out. damien and i don’t even get our phones while we’re doing dance practice. and i don’t think damien wants to answer all those questions

Damien huffed and started typing, and Roman saw his message a moment later. that’s a blatant lie, i can and will answer any questions you have. later. when i’m not about to die from a broken neck dancing

please, your dancing is FAR better than mine, Roman shot back.

you two are SERIOUSLY having this conversation while standing next to each other, aren’t you? Remus asked.

Damien turned red and Roman choked on his laughter. you know me too well, re

of course i do, you’re my baby brother Remus replied.

“He’s older by two minutes!” Roman muttered indignantly, and texted as much.

Damien snickered. “If this is what you’re like when you get to interact with your brother, I’ll have to ask him around frequently. I enjoy when you’re full of life like this.”

“I’m ‘full of life’? As opposed to, what, dead inside?” Roman asked.

“I mean...the first time I saw you my first impression was that you were either about to pass out or just work on autopilot for an indeterminable amount of time,” Damien said with a shrug. “So dead inside applies.”

Roman snorted. “Honey, you haven’t seen me dead inside until I’ve had to spend a full day in meetings with Remus. That’s an experience I would never wish upon my worst enemy.”

“Really? Who would you wish it on, if not your worst enemy?” Damien asked.

Roman stared Damien dead in the eye and said with complete sincerity, “My parents.”

Damien howled with laughter, nearly falling over as his legs shook. “Oh, God,” he wheezed. “I was not prepared!”

“Clearly not,” Roman said, starting to giggle.

“I need—I need the bathroom. I’ll be right back,” Damien said, staggering away, still laughing.

Roman turned as Logan started clapping. “I have never seen anyone make Damien laugh that hard before two in the morning, bravo,” he said, completely deadpan.

“I nearly made him pee himself, didn’t I?” Roman asked knowingly.

Logan just arched an eyebrow and said, “What do you think?”

Roman giggled and walked over to Logan. “While he’s gone, I don’t suppose you could be my dance partner and show me something Damien doesn’t know yet?”

“I can be your dance partner,” Logan agreed. “But learning new steps might be a bit too ambitious for the two minutes he’s gone.”

“Can we try anyway?” Roman asked.

“Yeah, of course,” Logan said, helping Roman get in position. “Okay, now the very first thing you’re going to want to do is to keep your feet flat on the floor, or you risk the danger of twisting something...”

Roman nodded along as Logan walked him through the steps of a dance Roman had never heard of before. Roman did a lot of looking at his feet as they ran through it once, then again as it went twice. The third time, Logan forced Roman to keep his head up and they went through all the steps just in time for Damien to walk back in the room. “Hey!” he exclaimed indignantly. “Logan, you cannot just steal my fiancé!”

“Oh, but I can,” Logan said, smirking. “And I think she prefers dancing with me over you.”

Damien made an affronted noise as Roman laughed. “I like dancing with both of you,” he said, looking between them. “No need to make this a competition for my heart. Love triangles are overrated, anyway.”

“True, polyamory is far more ideal,” Logan agreed in a voice just this side of too soft for Roman’s mother to hear.

“Speaking from experience?” Roman asked as Damien walked over.

“No comment,” Logan said with a small smirk.

Damien sighed. “How much longer are we going to go through dance practice?” he asked.

“I can hold you both reasonably for another hour,” Logan said. “And then Her Highness has a meeting with the King.”

“I have a what?” Roman asked, voice shrill in shock.

Logan blinked. “Had no one told you? The king wanted to talk with you, one on one before the wedding.”

“Oh, great!” Roman said, hysteria rising in his chest. “That’s going to go over perfectly, I’m sure!”

“My dear, you’ll be fine,” Damien laughed. “My father and I have similar senses of humor and similar temperaments. You get on fine with me, I’m sure my father will find you a delight.”

“That does not make me feel any better,” Roman said simply. “You and I have also had disagreements as well.”

Damien sighed. “Well, my father said that whenever he planned on talking to you, I was not allowed in the room. Apparently I could influence your answers and make you be dishonest in order to spare my feelings, or something of that ilk. Something tells me the conversation won’t be about you, but me.”

“That doesn’t help!” Roman exclaimed, heart hammering in his chest. Would he have to tell the King that he liked Damien? What would the King do? How would he react? “If the conversation is about you, then what if I’m accused of being a poor influence? What if he says I’m not fit to stay here?”

“‘What if’ questions will get you nowhere but in trouble, my dear,” Damien advised. “Try to breathe.”

Roman made a distressed noise and Damien sighed. “My father has spoken to you all of maybe three or four times, my dear. He simply wants to know you better. And probably your thoughts on the whole situation here. He likes knowledge, and likes to know every view on a situation. Your perspective is one he hasn’t heard before. Please, just give yourself some room to breathe and relax. You’ll do fine,” Damien assured.

With great effort, Roman took in a shaky breath. “I’m not ready for that,” he said. “I’m not ready. Let’s just...let’s just dance. I need to take my mind off of that.”

Damien nodded and he and Roman danced for a while. Roman was shaky at first, but every time his hands started to tremble too hard Damien would give them a reassuring squeeze. Slowly, Roman was able to let go of his worries and just enjoy dancing for a while. But of course, all too soon, that had to come to an end.

Just as Roman was laughing at Damien twirling him, Virgil came into the room and said, “His Majesty wishes to speak to the princess.”

Roman’s stomach sank, not only at being misgendered but at the fact that the hour had passed so quickly. Damien gave Roman a soft smile. “You’ll do wonderfully, my dear. Just remember to be yourself, all right?”

Roman swallowed and nodded, even as his hands shook and his legs felt like jelly as he walked over to Virgil. To his credit, Virgil placed a reassuring hand on Roman’s shoulder. “I’m not ready for this,” Roman said simply as they walked out of the ballroom. “I’m not ready.”

Virgil sighed. “You’ll do fine, Roman. I know you haven’t spoken with the King much, but he’s nothing if not fair. He’ll give you a chance to explain whatever has been rattling around in your head if you ask for it.”

“I’m still not ready,” Roman repeated.

Virgil sighed, and turned to face Roman fully. “Roman, what are you worried about? Be honest. Because the king isn’t transphobic, he isn’t homophobic, and he takes secrets to his grave. There’s no reason for you to freak out over those things, at least.”

Roman sighed. “I just...he’s going to be my father-in-law. I want to give him a good impression,” he shrugged and mumbled, “I want him to think I’m worthy of marrying Damien.”

Virgil blinked. “Roman, the King won’t judge you on whether or not you’re ‘worthy’ of being married to his son. He already agreed to this whole ordeal, he wouldn’t have done that if he thought you would hurt Damien.”

Roman shifted on his feet and was about to protest when a voice said, “Ah, Virgil. I’ll take him from here.”

Turning, Roman paled. The King was there, looking at both of them. Virgil nodded and gave Roman one last, “You’ll be fine,” as he left.

“Come with me, Roman,” the King said.

Roman’s heart leapt into his throat as he complied, following the King down the halls to a study. The King sat down in one of the chairs in the study, and he gestured for Roman to sit in the chair across from him. “Please, have a seat.”

With his heart hammering in his chest, Roman sat down. “So...what did you want to talk to me about?” Roman asked.

The King offered Roman a small smile. “Relax, Roman, you’re not in trouble,” he said. “I just wanted to get to know you a little better and know what you felt about the situation we’ve all found ourselves in.”

“O-oh,” Roman said. “I mean, it’s okay, I guess.”

“Okay?” the King laughed. “Roman, you told your parents you were transgender and they promptly tried to marry you off to make you their ‘daughter’ again. Most people I know would not describe that as ‘okay.’”

Roman took a breath and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said softly.

The King leaned forward. “Roman, I want your honest opinion,” he said, not unkindly. “I talked to Damien. He said you didn’t want to be used as a chess piece, or a mold for your mother to live through. Where’s the man who holds that righteous indignation, who’s independent, who’s not afraid to tell people that he won’t sit down and shut up?”

“My mother is killing him,” Roman said honestly. “Slowly but surely, he’s dying.”

The King nodded in understanding. “I want to know what you think, son. Don’t be afraid of judgement here. Tell me what you think, and I promise it will never leave these walls if you don’t want them to.”

Roman leaned back into his chair and shook his head, laughing. “You want to know the most pathetic thing about this whole ordeal?” he asked. “I told myself I wouldn’t catch feelings. I told myself the second I got the chance, I’d file for a divorce and run away and never look back to my old life. And what do I do? I catch feelings! Because I’m a hopeless gay man who sees any shred of affection as reason for attraction and I fall hopelessly in love with anyone who treats me like someone who deserves to be respected.”

The King just sat there in silence, looking at Roman expectantly.

“And I know, I know I shouldn’t call myself pathetic, but that’s how I feel!” Roman exclaimed. “And I always do this! Anyone shows me attention that’s positive, and they’re not related to me and I feel affection for them! Usually, it goes away with time, or something happens that makes it fade faster, but no, everything Damien does makes it grow stronger! He makes sure I’m validated, and that I know my own worth, and he checks on me to make sure that I’m feeling all right and...and I love him for it, and I know I can never tell him. Because he doesn’t want to be married. At least, he doesn’t want to be married to me. He wanted the chance to be married to someone he truly loved, and I took that from him—”

“—Roman, that isn’t something that you took from him,” the King interrupted. “You didn’t go up to your parents and insist that you be married off. Your parents are the ones who came up with the idea. Blame them. I know that Damien in part blamed his mother and myself for the whole arrangement. What I haven’t told him yet is that your parents were threatening war if you didn’t get married to someone. It didn’t matter who, but if no one agreed, then they would start a war and make sure that everyone was dragged into it. We were their last hope. And, because we didn’t want to start a war with people who have a frankly appalling amount of money going into their military, we agreed. But your parents are the ones to blame here, not you.”

Roman buried his head in his hands with a groan. “I wish I could say I was surprised about their threats,” he said. “I really wish I could. But sadly, I’m not. They’re always like this. They threatened to send me home if I didn’t say I was wrong in how I felt. And you can’t fake how you feel, you know? That’s something that you can’t simply wave away and suddenly feel different. It’s real and it hurts to be told, ‘you’re not allowed to feel this way, because we don’t want you to.’ Like, do you really hate your own son so much? That you’d try to kill him? Just to keep your daughter?”

The King sighed. “I wish I could make sense of things for you, son. But the fact of the matter is that some people are just cruel. And nothing we can do will ever change that fact.”

Roman miserably nodded. “So that’s how I feel, I guess. Trapped, pathetic, and hopelessly crushing. Does that tell you all you need to know?”

“Well, I would appreciate being able to talk to you more, but that does give me a basis on what to talk about,” the King said. “Tell me a little more about why you like my son?”

“I mean...he’s kind, and funny, and he does his best to make sure that I’m okay even when things kinda suck and we’re trapped doing whatever to make sure my mother is happy. He’s just...honestly, he’s the kind of guy I’d crush on even if I weren’t doomed to be married by the end of the week. He’s cute, too. Like, when he smiles and laughs at something I say, he just sorta does this thing, where his eyes light up and if he tries to hide his laughter he can’t do it the whole way, and he just kinda shakes and it’s the most adorable thing,” Roman rambled. “It’s really fun to get to see. And he’s smart, he’s so smart, he told me he has an interest in philosophy? And one day I have plans to get him to rant to me about it in great detail so I can see the passion in his eyes and watch as he gets excited over it. I really want to know more about him. I want to...I mean, I want to know everything, but I’ll settle for learning whatever I can for the next week until my parents are out of the picture, you know? Once they’re gone, I can learn absolutely anything I want.”

“What would you want to know?” the King asked.

Roman shrugged with a sheepish grin. “Honestly, I’m not really sure,” he admitted. “Half of the fun is realizing you never would have thought to ask stuff but now you have all these new questions to ask because there’s a whole side to someone you never realized existed.”

“Ah, you’re one of those types,” the King said with a grin. “My wife is much the same, you and her will get along.”

Roman felt relief start to trickle through him. The King being relaxed and kind was starting to get Roman to relax as well. “So do you have anything else to ask me?”

“Well, I was going to ask you how you felt about my son, but you answered those questions for me,” the King said. “Once it became clear that you genuinely liked him, I wanted to make sure you would never intentionally hurt him, but I can see clearly that you very much care for him. Hurting him would never be your intention.”

“Yeah, of course not,” Roman said. “I’d never want to hurt Damien.”

“Then we’ll have no problems,” the King said with a grin. “The two of you can get married, and get to know each other better. I have no doubt that both of you have the potential to really love each other, given the time to get to know each other.”

Roman offered a small smile back. “I really hope so,” he admitted softly. “That would be amazing.”

The King nodded knowingly. “Would you like to talk more before dinner, or would you rather go find my son and talk to him?”

Roman considered. On one hand, he did want to talk to Damien more. On the other, he also needed some time away from his mother, and his mother would inevitably find him if he were with Damien. And now he was calm being around the King, so he didn’t have to worry about a panic attack or dysphoria here. “Why don’t we talk some more?” Roman proposed. “We can always see the others at dinner.”

The King gave Roman a genuinely delighted smile. “Excellent!” he said. “What do you want to talk about?”

Roman shrugged. “I don’t know. Any and everything, I suppose.”

“I can work with that,” the King said.

Tag List: @lunareclipse-13@sanders-sides-crofters@blushy-gigglee-mess@wannacrymetoo@kaytikitty@magicalspacepanunicorn@bootsinthesun@pricklyfish777@flowersanddinosaurs@leiasolo77@birdybabybird@enby-phoenix@luna--28@justagaygoose@the-prince-and-the-emo@fandomsandanythingelse@randommuffinyt@snekky-boi@thesoftestlittlepuffballwegot@twilight-trix@abby5577@escalatingtoofast@friendlyfacestabbing@remus-is-stinky@foggybanditdreampeanut@ghostskull300@sprinklestheditty@canvas-the-florist@askthesnake@samuel-the-gay@determination-saved@juicy-cashew@demidork84@why-should-i-tell-youu2@nerd-in-space@aphriteblack@loganpatton@lilbeanblr@kittyboof8@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch@sanders-trash-4ever@hamilspntrash@swords-and-kittens@phantomfander@narniasfinestavengingsociopath@rjmeta@ambersky0319@anni-cat-flower@idosanderssidespromptssometimes@nafsbluebery@redisawerewolf23@voidvirgil@msu82@angstyfanfiction

[berri-hopefulspouse]

-- A Look Into The Past --

[ Reuploaded for your convenience~ Because tumblr is an ass~ ]

Fandom & Characters: Danganronpa, Ren (DR s/i, Ultimate Empath), [Mentioned/Minor roles] Celestia Ludenberg, Chihiro Fujisaki, Junko Enoshima, Sayaka Maizono, Makoto Naegi, Aoi Asahina, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Yasuhiro Hagakure, various Future Foundation technicians and scientists

TW: Self-Harm & Suicide Mentions/Implications, violence/gore warning, emetophobia, Laboratory/Science stuff, Panic attacks, Runaway, Dissociation, Dysphoria implication, Neglect, Bullying mention, General assholery, Hella angst, Mention of bondage & restraints (mostly as jokes), Deadname drop, general PTSD stuff, Hallucinations, Alcohol mention, Homo & transphobia, NB-Phobia, Manipulation, Gaslighting

AN: Another reuploaded story from my previous account! This one was definitely the most uh. Chaotic in terms of trigger warnings, as you can see. All of these are events following THH, and not long before the events that predate DR2 occur. So keep that in mind. ALSO! At the time this is posted (10/3/2020) - this is the story that precedes the current F/O event going on, hinted at here. 

Summary: After the events at Hopes Peak High, each member of the class- over time- are put into a procedure to regain the memories lost over the 2 years. It’s Ren’s turn, and being the last one for various personal reasons- they are nervous. Is it worth it to retrieve memories of the past? Or would they have been better off not knowing at all?…

Fidget. Fidget and broil in thought. Fidget and listen. Listen. 

“You understand the conditions in which you'll go under, Mx?” An older man asked them, “The process will take but a few hours, with one of the devices we have on hand.” They didn't know much of this man- save for one thing. He was one of the technical scientists who worked for Future Foundation- something somewhat new to the brunette.

The weeks following their escape from Hopes Peak...from Junko...it was a bit messy. Scooped up by this organization that apparently was the revolution for hope and trying to contain the disease that was despair. Taking days to breathe and recover from the events, only to have to explain themselves alongside their classmates. So, here they were now. One by one, they were all being asked the same thing; Do they want their memories recovered? Do they want to recall the two years lost to them due to Junko’s meddling?...

“Yes, I understand.” Soren mumbles, shyly, wringing their hands into their shirt, “I am ready to proceed.” 

Whether they were ready for it or not, they knew they had to know. They had to know what they missed, how they were connected to everyone...what their past was like…

Believe it or not, even their childhood felt fuzzy to them. In a way, them and Kirigiri were connected in that sense. Theirs however was...different. 

‘I’m the last one who’s going through this procedure…’ They recalled to themselves as they got up, following the scientist into the laboratory...they felt nervous- and part of them wished Makoto was with them to offer some reassurance.

‘He’s been running himself ragged lately with tasks and plans though, we’ve all been working hard...I let him rest when I got called up.’ 

They thought back to exactly why they were one of the last people to be brought to this laboratory. Intensive therapy, trying to recover from the events of the Killing School life...sure, it affected everyone quite differently, but for them it almost seemed to bring out the worst in them. Persistent nightmares, paranoia, fainting spells… It didn’t take long for them to be brought to counselling once the others found out- although it was mostly due to Makoto outting his concern for them.

‘They figured it was PTSD, naturally. I knew that, it’s basic psychology... But still…’ From what they explained… ‘It seems like it goes far beyond just Hopes Peak. It just seemed like that whole shitshow might’ve just been a breaking point.’ 

Sitting down in one of the chairs in the laboratory, they looked to the various technicians who were around. All typing away at computers, ready to begin the process.

“Like I said, this will take a few hours...and given your special circumstance, definitely a bit longer than most to recover. However, we’re also not certain if all your memories will be recovered.” He explained, securing both their legs and arms to the chair with small clasps. Easy enough to break out of given an emergency were to occur, but enough to restrain any potential flailing. They lightly tugged on the restraints, feeling very little give.

“You going to explain the bondage, or am I just gonna have to deduce that on my own accord?” They joked lightly, giving a shaky smile to the older man who shook his head with a sigh, ignoring the younger adult’s antics.

“They’re just in case. We don’t know what memories might surface, and given your previous history...we just want to make sure you don’t injure yourself in any way.” 

Looking away, they felt the slight phantom burns along their wrist as they recalled exactly what they all meant. Sure, the scars on their wrist were...older than they recalled...Most of which were faded deep into their skin. All except one, from a more recent relapse episode.

‘Hence the need to keep me safe, I guess,’ They thought to themselves, ‘No one at Future Foundation really treats me like the rest of the class…’

And why would they? Ren was a special case, after all, being hung with a slew of various mental disorders… As the psychologist in charge of them put it; “They walk the line of both hope and despair. They try so desperately to cling to hope, but given their potential history, succumbing to despair might simply be an inevitability.”

That anxious thought caused them to shudder, not quite listening to the scientific rambling of the technician as they secured a device to their head. Deep breaths...one after another. The static in their ears receded, until they heard the technician speak again.

“Did you hear what I said, Soren?”

“Huh? Oh. Oh yeah!” They lied through their teeth, “Let’s just get this over with, yeah…”

The technician headed out of the room, reappearing behind the glass wall that was before them. Taking one last glance around the room, it was circular. It reminded them almost of the trial grounds- but more...high-tech. It was an observation room of sorts, however, shown by the glass and the scientists working away behind it. 

‘This is either going to go well…...or really, really poorly.’ They thought to themselves as they took a slow breath. 

There was a slight crackle, an intercom. Their heartbeat skipped for a second but they quickly regathered themselves. 

‘It’s not him. You’re not there anymore.’ They reminded themselves as a voice came on.

“Okay, we’re going to begin the procedure. Are you ready?”

They tried giving a stiff nod, but finding their head was basically fixed in place, simply hummed.

“Ready.”

“Proceeding then, in Five...Four...Three…”

‘Deep breaths, in and out.’

“Two…”

‘Everythings going to be just fine.’

“One.” 

A weird sensation started, right at their temples, only mere moments after the word left the technician’s mouth. Then, a low hum, that made Ren sit a bit straighter with a nervous anxiety and itch at their mind. The hum got louder, louder, louder still…

Until they completely blacked out, altogether.

–☆–

“Ḷ̵̨̜̹̣̖̮̮́ȁ̶̧̼͖̥̰̱̆̈́͂i̴̦̗̪̯̲̻͇̫͑̾̄̆l̸̘̗͕͎̩̈́̄̃͆a̷̡̯͑̑̃̔̈̂̓.̸͓̮̓͂͛̆̏͗̈.̷̗̲̞͙̼̗̈́͗͌̈́͜͠͝.̸̡̛̺̰͓̟̼̙̙̯̀̂̌̓̅͑͜͜?̶͔͍͛̾̊̑̓̇̌̈̅̈́̚͝͝”

A voice. Disconnected. Everything felt heavy, almost familiarly so. The name- it didn’t feel like their own, and it rang with such a chord of familiarity that it felt like a dagger straight through their throat. They suddenly felt so...so sick, but they couldn’t place why... 

“Laila?” A bit louder this time, taking a slow breath in and out, they- no, she- looked up.

“Huh?”

She was seated at a desk- one that...she(-they, no wait uh)...she believed was their own. However, the face that greeted her...she couldn’t even figure out who it was.

“Jeez, I can’t believe you fell asleep in class again.” The person said, a cheeky grin on his features. Jet black hair and light brown eyes greeted (him...them, fuck-) her, and she tried putting a name to a face but...she can’t seem to quite remember, “C’mon, slowass, we’ve got practice.”

“Pra...practice?” 

Drama practice.

The word clicked into her mind, and almost instantly she sat up further.

“Oh shit- That’s today?!”

“No duh, it’s Tuesday, remember?! Sheesh, you’re so forgetful. Cmon-!” 

Before the person- Viktor, the name clicked in her brain almost like it was always there- could finish what she was saying, the brunette had gotten up and run out of the room, into a hallway. 

‘Hercules Middle School…’ She thought to herself (Himself? Why was it so difficult?), as she ran down the hallway, ‘I always grew up here...jeez, I just wanna leave from this nightmare of a school already.’ 

She skidded a bit as they turned, running straight into a wall with a slight thud and a yelp of pain.

“Okay, ow.” She groaned a bit, blinking. He- She had ended up on the floor, head fuzzy slightly as she pulled themselves to their feet.

“Sheesh, dude, you’re so clumsy.” Viktor talked to her, chuckling as she pulled herself to her feet, only to get smacked upside the head, “Watch where you’re walking next time!”

“Eheh...s-sorry.” She stuttered a bit, almost shy. 

“Don’t apologize for everything, man, it’s gonna look pathetic on ya,” Viktor assured, causing her to blush a bit and look away.

“R-right.”

She chuckled nervously, not meeting his expression- afraid to express his- her (their?) mild hurt at what he said.

“Lets get going, we’re running late.”

“Okay…”

With that said, Viktor quickly took a hold of her hand, and the two quickly raced off through the winding corridors of the school.

Even so, as they started to step into the gym, he felt a slight buzz in her pocket. Taking out her phone- dated as it was- they checked the message she received from their- His- her childhood best friend...Kayla.

[ (Kay) 2:43 PM: Hey...dude, U should see this shit. Are you with Vik rn? ]

[ (Lai) 2:44 PM: Yea, y? ]

[ (Kay) 2:44 PM: U need to see this. ]

[ [Kayla sent IMG32452 ] ]

Looking at the image, her heart froze. It was a series of texts between her and Viktor, with the former talking about how childish she was. How much of a crybaby she was over the littlest things, sensitive to every little poke at her. How much of a copycat she was. How it was just so easy to be friends with her, to use her...And her eyes teared up. Kayla looked to be at least trying to defend her...these weren’t even from 20 minutes ago… 

“Laila? You coming, dude?” His-Her thoughts were interrupted by Viktor, as their head jerked up to look at him. He-- She didn’t know what she felt. Part of her wanted to hit him, part of him wanted to scream at him, part of them wanted to ask if they did something wrong...but...

“I...Uh...I don- I don’t feel good suddenly. T-Tell t-them I’ll be in...in a minute…” She mumbled out, feet slowly staggering back as an arm laced around their stomach. That wasn’t entirely a lie, either, they felt faint…they felt sick...she felt...hurt.

Before Viktor could see them cry...she turned and ran off, tears blurring his-(her-their--) her vision as the squeak of sneakers filling the hallways and their crowded mind. 

The colors around them blurred, holding their head in their hands as they trembled in place. Suddenly, they were in the bathroom- though they sensed the day was different than it was mere moments ago. But that wasn’t what was taking up their thoughts. It was staring into the mirror- at the square glasses and overly pudgy baby-face they have. Staring at someone that wasn't her- that isn’t who they are! 

‘Fuck, fuck, why do I hate myself so much?!’ (They- She- he-) She asked herself, struggling to breathe. Even being in the girls’ bathroom felt suffocating, but it was all she knew. Sure, she didn’t feel “dysphoria” like Viktor did...but she felt wrong. She felt WRONG. Her arms shook, nails digging into her skin as she hugged herself tightly. She wanted to shave all her hair off- she wanted to rip off her chest- she wanted- she wanted--

‘Agh! I can’t...I can’t breathe-!’ She forced herself to look away from the mirror, thinking about all the times she was addressed as a girl...all the times she felt wrong in an environment where she should feel comfortable. She always considered herself a tomboy- someone who definitely wasn’t on the feminine side of things...but it felt deeper. Her name made her want to puke- this long hair made her want to scream. The floofy, glittery, feminine clothing made her want to cry, scream, do anything. Something. But all she could do was struggle to breathe, struggle to consider what was happening to her.

That wasn’t even going into all the bullying. How she didn’t fit in with anyone in her class- even amongst her friends. She didn’t THINK she was transgender like Viktor was, but she knew something was...wrong with her. Something different. She couldn’t be a girl, either, she couldn’t be. All the torture she went through day to day- with her family, with her friends, with her classmates, with her-fucking-self. She was in a war she felt like she was losing.

‘...Wouldn’t it be great, if I died right here?’ A voice whispered in the back of their head, causing them to freeze up, ‘Taking the razors and digging them deep into your neck-’

“Laila?”

A voice from outside the bathroom quickly shut them out of their intrusive, suicidal thoughts. She recognized that voice- it was the school nurse. She took a deep breath, in and out- but words struggled to escape their throat, save for a soft squeak of a sob. 

“Is everything okay?...”

‘...I can’t keep doing this to myself...I-I need to tell her...what’s going on…’ She at least was self-aware enough to know that much. She couldn’t put herself through her own hell anymore...So whether she was ready for whatever would come or not...she rubbed her eyes a bit, slowly stepping back out into the hallway to try and finally reach out- after years of remaining silent. 

...Darkness...it kept swallowing them up, almost like a tidal wave. It took a second to recall what was going on. Right. The procedure. Future Foundation. Was...was that a memory then? Were these dreams of memories of their past? How long did they feel like this?!

‘Viktor…’ The name felt bitter on their tongue, and with it a small swell of various emotions came to head. Depression, anguish, betrayal…

‘He talked shit behind my back… we went all the way back to middle school. I trusted him with everything but…’

A voice, Viktor’s, cut through the noise of their head.

���C’mon man, you know I never mean it. Besides, if you weren’t such a damn prick, I wouldn’t need to call you out on your shit all the time.”

“Jeez, you never had gender issues before until I started bringing up that I was trans. What are ya, a copycat?”

“What are you gonna say next, that you’re trans too? Haha! Dude, Nonbinary folk can’t be trans. Besides, you don’t have any physical dysphoria, yeah?”

For years, he manipulated them. Teased them. Backstabbed them.

‘How could I forget about him?...How could I forget about how I was treated growing up by everyone?! Well, I guess I chose to after I came to Japan…’ 

The sadistic smile came into their mind’s eyes. Those dark brown eyes they admired for so long...it was because of him they became an artist. That they were exposed to who they were, and yet-

A sharp pain echoed through the back of their head, causing them to physically flinch- though it was restricted.

‘That’s right, I was bound to that chair in case something unforeseen happened…’ They reminded themselves, despite still trying to thrash. If their voice would work, they’d likely be crying out in pain. 

Still, after another moment, the pain ebbed a bit. They recalled something else. Why that betrayal, that anger...it was so strong…

The blog. The hate. The messages telling them to do something drastic- to kill themselves. The pressure that nearly did cost them their life, had it not been for their escape…

‘...Yet it took me until...some point later...because I know he’s definitely not in my life anymore.’ They told themselves, taking a few breaths to try and ease the picture of the blog from their mind- to stop themselves from seeing red.

They didn’t notice the shuddering they were feeling until a few moments later, but that soon calmed back down.

‘...I do wonder how Kayla is...I didn’t even remember her until now. Did she hurt me too? Did she forget about me when I ran away to Japan…? I don’t know..’ Still, they sighed as Viktor’s laugh cut through their thoughts. Despite themselves, they felt a sense of nostalgia at the sound. 

‘Even if he’s a bastard...even though he hurt me in ways that could potentially never heal...I hope he’s doing okay in all of this.’ That little part of them whispered in the space of their subconscious, as memories of their friendship swirled in their mind, ‘I wouldn’t wish despair like this on anyone else…’

It was vague images, ones that felt distant enough that they couldn’t recall in full detail, but they were still there...his house- all the sleepovers. He helped them get their hair cut. He helped them with art. He introduced them to all sorts of new media that, looking back then, they realized was what made them who they were now… A small smile drew out of them. He took them in when they almost couldn’t take their home life anymore, for a short time. Laughing together with Kayla...it felt so distant, but the happiness they felt then...it was still real. It was still real to them, throughout all of that.

Still, that hum, that distinct hum from before that they realized had fallen into the background noise was suddenly at the forefront of their attention once more- growing louder and changing frequency, in a way that made it feel like they were burning. Not with any emotion, but just...burning. 

Soon, their thoughts slipped away once more, and with it- the hum died back down once more. 

“All readings are going according to plan.” One scientist said to another, “Though we’re picking up distress and hints of pain after turning up the frequency... Is the machine correctly calibrated?”

“It should be as such, unless…” The technician that talked to the brunette earlier pursed his lips in though, before hissing lightly in annoyance through his teeth, “...Unless the subject has an auditory processing issue. Shit- Turn the frequency down a few notches.”

“But sir, if we do so, the memories will most definitely be unable to resurface. Remember, this science isn’t quite perfect yet- we can’t make expenses for the issue.” One female technician spoke up, adjusting her glasses.

“...” The man bit his nail nervously, before sighing and nodding, “Of course. Continue the procedure.” 

–☆–

“Where is that piece of shit kid?!” It was dark. There was lightning going on outside. Their heart was racing, “I’m going to rip her to shreds!”

‘It’s just a hallucination, god please just let it be a hallucination,’ They thought to themselves, closing their eyes- trying to shut out the feeling of fear- even if their head was pounding. 

“I can’t believe she got another F on a math test- can you believe this?! I work with her constantly on it, and yet it's like she doesn’t even hear me!” The gruff man grumbled, the voice a distinct echo, as the brunette hid their face into their knees. The sounds of screaming, the sounds of banging… the sounds of things being thrown- it made their heart race. But they knew better. These were just their mind playing games on them from the past. Focus. They had to ground themselves, but…

‘I’m so scared, god I’m so damn scared…’ They took a few deep breaths, putting their hands to their ears. Focus. 

‘I’m in my room. It’s summer. There’s rain outside and the...smell of... alcohol... is very strong in the air… M-maybe I should open the window.’ Reaching up, they fiddle with the locks in their window for a few moments before flinging it open, letting the smell of nighttime air and rain pattering to the ground slowly drown out the scent of booze that lingered. In moments, the noise in their ears ebbed, and they were able to breathe again. Thankfully. With a bit more focus, the numbness seeped in, and they felt themselves slowly relax. Numbness...it was the only reprieve from the living nightmare of their heart. Controlling it took practice, and being able to shut everything out...it was their only escape. Even if…

‘...Even if it cost someone their life before because of my neglect…’ They thought to themselves, feeling their focus wane and the anxiety starting to ebb back into their vision.

“It’s okay...it’s okay…” They whispered to themselves as they got up, “It’s...It’s not like that anymore. It’s..It’s okay.” They forced themselves to breathe again, focusing again on keeping that numbness deep in- if only to protect themselves from their own pain. They had to get up. They had things to do. They had to keep going. 

Their feet felt heavy, slowly gliding across their small room and peering out into the hallway. Silence. Somber, peaceful silence- save for the sounds of the television faintly heard from downstairs. Slowly slipping downstairs, a voice greeted them.

“La- I-I mean, Soren?” 

“Y-yeah?” They stuttered out, feigning a smile as they poked their head over to where their father sat on the couch- watching the television screen. He at least tried with them, but still…

“Did you take your medication?”

“I-I’m gonna…” They mumbled sheepishly, their smile flickering a bit.

“Are you okay?”

“.....Y-yeah.” They lied through their teeth- in a manner that was not at all subtle. Part of them wondered if he’d ask, or if he’d just happen to not notice again.

“...Okay.” He smiled, “Don’t forget you start class next week. Hercules High needs you!” 

“R-right…”

“And don’t forget you perform for the next few weeks!”

“I-I do? B-but I thought that wasn’t until next week!” Their shock was portrayed in their tone, feeling their heart race. Summer felt like the only time they got to rest, and even then it didn’t feel like it was long enough to deal with the stress they went under.

“They’re starting volleyball season early, and you know the boss needs you.” He shrugged it off, ignoring the clear concern on their features, which fell to simple stress. A few moments of silence drawled on- to which they felt their phone go off in their pocket. They didn’t look at it for a little while, trying to not start crying at even the slightest thought of performing, before finally speaking up once more in a defeated tone.

“...O-Okay. I’ll g-go take my medication, night dad…” “Night sweetie!”

As they tiptoed away though, walking only on the balls of their feet, one thought only crossed their mind.

‘I need to get out of here. I can’t wait to escape any longer. I can’t wait. I can’t deal with the bullying anymore...I can’t take the manipulation anymore...’ A slow inhale, a slow exhale. They had been preparing it for months. Getting a passport, slowly packing things they would need- including funds to transfer from euros into yen…

‘I have to buy that ticket tonight. The last plane out for the next week.’

Their phone buzzed again, which brought them from their thoughts. Slowly, they sighed, taking out their phone.

‘If anyone can calm me down after this nightmare, it’d be my friends-’ They thought to themselves, until seeing the ID.

[ (Stepmom) 11:34 PM: Have you helped your dad out with his account yet? You have to take care of him you know, he can’t take care of himself. ]

Their blood boiled a bit, and despite themselves they quickly texted back.

[ (Ren) 11:35 PM: ...I’m 16, I shouldn’t have to take care of my own parents. Also, it depends- do you still have my binder hidden away somewhere? ]

[ (Stepmom) 11:37 PM: Your what? ]

[ (Ren) 11:37 PM: You know what it is, because I haven’t seen it since I put it in the wash a month ago. ]

For several minutes, as Ren went about the kitchen preparing their medication, they watched her type, the ‘(...)’ making them nervous as they tapped their fingers along their side. But, eventually…

[ (Stepmom) 11:41 PM: Oh, that. It’s going to hurt you if you wear it, it’s too tight. Honestly, I don’t know why you wear something that physically hurts you, so I threw it out. ]

[ (Ren) 11:41 PM: . . . You what. ]

It took everything in them to not throw their phone at the wall in anger. They saved up for months for that! They just wanted to present as themselves! It wasn’t even that tight compared to other, less safer binders! It fit fine!

[ (Stepmom) 11:43 PM: This is for your own good, darling. After all, you wouldn’t want your chest to start sagging, would you? ]

[ (Ren) 11:44 PM: I told you it fit fine. I told you not to mess with it, and how to properly wash it, and you decide to throw it out? The thing I bought with my own money? ]

[ (Stepmom) 11:45 PM: I told you, it’s for your own good. Besides, this phase of yours with being ‘transgender’ will pass in time. ]

Slow breath, in and out. Their grip on their phone tightened before turning it off altogether, taking very intentional slow breaths so they didn’t outright explode into a fit of anger in the middle of the kitchen.

‘She never fucking understands! I explained it to her so many times, I’ve told her this wasn’t just a phase, I begged her to use my name and let me just exist- but she just...can’t! And my dad never does anything! They’ll never do anything!! I just...I wanna be myself. I can’t take it anymore!’ 

As they gathered their medication, which rested in the kitchen, along with a bottle of water, they looked to their father’s wallet- which rested on the counter. They just needed to pay for the plane ticket... Slowly, they crept over, thinking to themselves, ‘...Am I doing this?’ 

Their grip shakes for a moment, trembling with anxiety- anger, sadness...every emotion at once swirling inside like a broiling soup, ready to boil over...They took a photo of the credit card- front to back, and slipped it back into his wallet.

‘...I have no choice.’

In one blink, they were upstairs. The next, purchasing the next plane ticket out of there. The next, slipping out of their room and onto the lower roof of their 2 floored house. The next, running down the street and down to the bus stop. The next, in an airport. And the next...they were gone. Over the course of the next...several hours...All of this occurred within the next day or so, even if everything felt like a blur. There was anxiety flooding through their veins, slowly breathing in and out.  Looking down while seated in the plane, they noted the transfer papers in their lap. A normal, public high school. They did it. They got out. They were free of everything. Of a shitty, unsupportive home life… of friends who only used them for the money they had, and talked shit behind their back...of the work that dragged them rugged...they were free. 

They were finally, finally....free.

....And slowly, just like that, the awareness came back. The feeling of their hands, their legs, and the emotions that came from those memories.

‘That’s right...I ran away from home to transfer to a normal life...I got a part time job, cut off everyone I knew in the past...and left. It wasn’t even just that my family was...abusive… Or at least at that point, But they were…. Neglectful. Emotionally and mentally neglectful... My father...he didn’t acknowledge how poorly he raised me, forced me to work on my singing abilities even when sick or mentally unwell… put so much pressure on my schoolwork that chores and life-skills took a back seat. My stepmother was transphobic, homophobic...and my mother…’

Their thoughts trailed off for a short moment...before the realization cut their heart in two.

‘I haven’t heard from her since I was 7.’

A crippling feeling of loneliness flooded their thoughts, and they swore they felt warmth trailing down their cheek. They swore they felt this before...they knew this feeling of loneliness, and it felt suffocating. It felt like only until recently...they had never known what it felt like to truly belong somewhere… Shit- they were definitely crying, they felt tears falling off their cheek with what awareness they had of their surroundings, despite their eyes being closed. They tried to reach up, to wipe it off, but they once again felt the tight leather restraints keeping them still. 

“Hey, Deep breaths.” A voice cut through the pain. The technician, “How are you feeling right now?”

Their eyes fluttered a bit, and eventually...opened. Their body felt heavy. It took a moment or two to piece together how their tongue worked again, but then they eventually mumbled between nervous clicks of their tongue. 

“Shitty, thanks,” They sarcastically muttered, “I’m doing as well as I can be. How long has it been?”

“4 hours.” The technician spoke up, “Do you recollect anything from Hopes Peak yet, Ren?”

“...No.” They took a second to gather their thoughts, slowly shaking their head as slightly as they could to try and clear the feeling of static and prickles that surrounded their headspace, “Just...my childhood.” 

“Right. Well, we’re about halfway done. If we tried going past 8 hours...well, we don’t know what sort’ve effect it might have on you.” 

The intercom spoke, as they nodded, taking another breath. They had stopped crying by now.

“How does this equipment work again?” They were a bit curious now, and it's not like they were really paying attention earlier when he probably was explaining it to them. The sigh he gave confirmed this suspicion, and while quietly smothering the instant guilt in their stomach that came with feeling like a burden for making him repeat himself, he spoke.

“It basically delivers electromagnetic waves through your ears and to your brain, and depending on the frequency we put through these waves, it will help drudge up any forgotten memories...That is to say, it is impossible to ‘steal’ memories persay- but with the right technology, repressing them very deeply into your mind is very possible. It takes very miniscule, very specific triggers to drudge them back to the surface. That’s what the humming is- the electromagnetic waves,” He explained, “However, we cannot select what you do and don’t remember...and given you have ADHD, what you do recall can vary greatly. You still might not remember as much as most of your classmates, hence why yours is taking that much longer compared to your peers.”

“ADHD...of course this is the first I’m hearing of it,” They noted, spite in their tone, “Gotta have a word with that shrink later.” Even if, thinking of it then, ADHD clicked perfectly with how they acted and their personality. 

“Soren, please do not nearly break the arm of another psychologist.” 

The technician’s exasperation was heard in his tone, watching the brunette’s dark eyes blink up towards where he was sitting in the window. He was holding what, they could only imagine, was yet another coffee. A small stack sat on the desk next to him.

“Nah, I won’t…” They responded, hiding a hint of a chuckle at his tone...They were about to ask another question before quickly giving the slightest shake of their head to brush it off, “Anyway, let’s keep going, yeah?”

“Right. Ready to go back under? Now, I won’t be able to speak to you again until after the procedure ends. While you’re under, you’re technically unconscious, but after each memory ends- you’re briefly brought back to a slight sense of consciousness to give your head a break. Understand?”

“Gotcha, doc.” Their tone was thick with drowsiness, the slight irish drawl slipping between pursed lips. They were sleepy already… What time was it?

“Right...Good luck, Mx.” 

The hum started back up as he spoke, growing louder until his voice was drowned out altogether. One breath in...One breath out...And their head went slack once more as they fell unconscious. 

–☆–

How is it someone like them got accepted here again?

They honestly had no clue. Extensive testing, sure, they were a decent learner...but their emotional capabilities were apparently one to behold. Sure, they knew they helped a student down and away from suicide, but honestly? Anyone could really do that. Either way, after further examination, they were the designated ‘Ultimate Empath’...Jeez, what the HELL were they doing here?

‘But I mean...if those rumors I heard are true, I’ll be set for life,’ They thought to themselves, shyly posted up in the main hall- watching slowly students trickle in of all ages, ‘And I don’t want to work a part-time job for the rest of my life.’ 

Some were talking amongst themselves, others kept to themselves but...they were amongst the latter, arms nervously crossed over their torso. Amongst orientation, they would be introduced to the classes specifically picked for each individual student, and fitted into proper ‘Hopes Peak’ uniforms….you know, the same ones no one seemed to really wear- if the appearance of some upperclassmen were any indication. 

But they, personally? They didn’t want to make themselves too known within the class. After all, they knew there were missing posters for their deadname so if they weren’t careful…

‘I can’t go back home. I can’t. But also...do I really belong here?’

Looking around, the energy of everyone seemed so...so different...compared to them. So much stronger, mentally and physically. Confident. Cheerful. Perfect.

‘...Maybe I shouldn't be here.’ Their thoughts started walking away with them as they slowly started backing over towards the door…

Only to run into someone- causing both of them to start to stumble. 

“Eep-!” 

          “Whoa!”

They felt the person behind them, though, trip, and suddenly, they were on the floor, on top of this poor unfortunate soul. A few moments of silence pass, a few classmates piping in, asking if they were both okay, before Ren slowly sat up, rubbing their head… only to realize they probably nearly crushed the person below them, and jumping up to their feet. 

“Oh my gods, I'm so sorry!” Their voice came out as a shrill squeak, slightly muffled as their hands clasped over their mouth in anxious surprise.

“Ah, jeez-” The boy in question they watched as he rubbed the back of his head, “I-it’s alright, really… Should’ve watched what was in front of me.” He laughed softly, and they looked away.

They wouldn’t lie...he was pretty cute.

“D-did you just walk in? I-I mean, it’s normal not to notice me...I’m pretty short.” They asked and explained themselves, fiddling with their fingers.

“Yeah, I did...and believe me-” He got up himself, standing not much taller than the brunette in question, probably around 5’2”-5’3” or so compared to their 4’10”, “I’m...Not much better in terms of height.”

There was a bewildered silence for a few moments, before the two in question bursted into a small fit of laughter, doubled over in their fit of snickers. As a result, they relaxed a bit, calming down around this boy. 

“I’m guessing you’re also in my class then?” They asked, wiping away a small tear from their eye.

“Yeah, actually. What’s your name?” Olive eyes met their own, and they tried everything in their being to keep from squeaking shyly at the eye contact.

“N-Name’s Soren. U-Ultimate Empath. And you?” They offered a hand to him, despite themselves. The boy in question chuckled, taking their hand in his own and giving a soft squeeze as he shook their hand.

“Makoto Naegi...I-I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student, apparently.” He spoke, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck. Ren tilted their head, curious.

“Luck student? How the hell do you measure luck…?” They asked, obliviously. Makoto sighed, looking a bit downcast, and they could practically see the insecurity written in his body language and face.

“It’s a long story...But honestly, it’s...kinda ridiculous.” He mumbled, “Not sure if someone like you would wanna hear about it.”

“No, no.” They quickly shook their head, not retracting their hand and instead putting their other hand on his, leaning a bit closer with intrigue written on their features, “I wanna know… If you’re comfortable talking about it, of course. I mean…” They tilted their head, “It’s weird feeling different from the other Ultimates, huh?”

His eyes widened, caught off guard, “How did you…” They grinned a bit, a soft smile, “Empath, remember? I can sense your distress about being here...I can sense your nerves. You don’t...feel like you belong, do you?” They asked.

Makoto blinked for a few moments, eyes searching theirs for any sign of joking, before sighing and relaxing a bit. Right.

“Spot on, I guess. Alright, alright, I’ll spill. But you best not tell anyone else, okay?” Makoto put a finger to his lips, a curl of a joking smirk on their face. At that moment, they noticed the faint sprinkling of freckles across his face, the slight dimples in his features when he grinned...Their heart jumped a bit, and they laughed.

“I won’t tell a soul.”

In one blink, there they were talking to Makoto, and in the next…

“Ren?” Looking over, they found themselves in a different environment. They were seated outside, underneath a tree, with a few other girls around them. If memory serves right… 

‘This is Chihiro, Celestia, and Asahina.’ Their memory clicked perfectly back together.

“Hey!” It was Hina talking, “Dude, are you okay? You were spacing out pretty hard there.”

Ren blinked a bit, before shyly chuckling and looking away, “Ah, yeah, I’m okay. That just...tends to happen.” 

Hina blinks a bit before shaking her head, “Well, yeah, clearly. You should really get that checked out you know! If you can’t even focus on food, how will you be able to focus in class?! I mean, midterm exams are coming up soon you know.”

“...A Lot of studying.” They chuckled nervously, biting their nails, “Still, I just have a lot on my mind lately, I guess.”

“A- A-lot on your mind?” Chihiro spoke up, blinking and leaning a bit closer towards Ren, “D-does it have to do w-with studying?” “...No, I wouldn’t say that…” They mumbled, shyly, looking down at their food and taking a shy bite.

‘How can I tell them everything that goes on in my head? How can I tell them that it's a fight everyday to survive? How can I explain...that something’s wrong with me?’

Simply put, they couldn’t. They managed a small smile and chuckled.

“Just thinking of boys, I guess.” They quickly averted the actual subject- unknowing of them setting themselves up for disaster.

“Oooh?” Asahina got a mischievous grin on her face, “Any particular boys?”

Their face flushed...it was no secret to any of them that they, simply put, were a bit smitten.

“Noooooo….?” They lied through their teeth, even if their goofy grin gave them away.

“Not even a particular luckster?” Celeste leaned in a bit, joining in on the teasing with her own little devilish grin, giggling quietly as the brunette interrogated squeaked shyly and hid their face in their hands, the image of the Ultimate in question immediately flooding their thoughts.

“Nooo!!!” They tried to protest, shaking their head rapidly. The group of girls giggled, Chihiro wrapping an arm around the brunette’s neck in an attempt to reassure them.

“You’re going to have to ask him out eventually, you know, before Sayaka beats you to it.” Asahina said with a cheeky grin. Their smile faltered slightly. 

“No, no. I shouldn’t meddle...I’d feel bad.”

“Even if he clearly has no romantic interest in her?” Celeste spoke up, red eyes widening a bit, “That is to say, I’ve only seen him so starstruck around you particularly, my dear.”

Ren’s face flushed even brighter, biting their lip shyly, “Noo, he definitely wouldn’t want someone like me…” Their self consciousness was starting to show, “I mean, I’m just a nosy empath with gender issues. Sayaka is...a literal popstar.” 

“And? Popstar or no, you still have something special about you that Naegi senses! Cmon, Ren, be a bit more confident in yourself!” Hina rebutted, determination glittering in her bright blue eyes before giggling and shoving a baked treat into her mouth.

“I-I’m plenty confident in myself!” ‘I...I think.’ They left that last bit out, looking away to bite their lip in uncertainty.

The rest of the girls shared a mutual doubtful, somewhat concerned look, before shaking their heads.

“Tell us that when you manage to ask Naegi out yourself, dear.” Celeste concluded, delicately eating at some sparse vegetables she had served herself, smiling sweetly towards her.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They huffed, blushing with a slight pout as they idly drank at the sugary drink that sat next to them. It tasted sweet, and reminded them of peaches… Peach soda. Huh.

Still, looking over to the tree next to them, they spotted Makoto amongst some of the guys- laughing alongside Ishimaru, Sayaka, Kyoko, and Yasuhiro...and found their heart sinking a bit in their chest.

‘He’d...never fall for someone like me. It’s not like I’m extraordinary or anything… I’m not like the rest of the Ultimates here.’ They thought to themselves, feeling their mood start to shift. However, the next moment, his eyes met theirs and he smiled, offering a shy wave- and they felt their heart start to race all over again.

‘...Still. I’ll...I’ll stay hopeful for it. It never hurts to dream, right?’

Slowly, the memory faded into nothing once more, and while they didn’t open their eyes again, they felt the sense of their surroundings return once again.

‘Hopes Peak Academy...I never expected I’d get in, especially while I was a runaway...but when I did, it changed my life. For the first time I had friends. I had people I cared about...but at the time, I was so wrapped up in my own trauma, in my own depression...I just didn’t notice. I thought I was alone..’ They thought to themselves, a curl of a small smile on their features, ‘...And my love for Makoto...it goes even beyond the Killing School Life...Gods, Hina isn’t going to let me live THAT down anytime soon if she remembers that.’

Still...there was something about knowing their classmates...truly KNOWING their classmates now, compared to back then...that hurt their heart even more.

‘...They all deserved so much better… None of them deserved to die. None of them deserved to be murdered...none of them deserved to suffer the way we all did. I hope they’re doing okay in the everafter…’ 

Still, as sweet as the memory was, they had to continue. They had to keep going down memory lane. And, it seemed everyone else agreed, as the electromagnetic humming started once again, filling their head with noise. This one felt more abrupt, more sharp, and suddenly they were groaning in pain a bit. Whatever was going on, it hurt...it actually really, really hurt-

“I-Is...is everything...okay??” They managed to open an eye slightly… Only to notice the panic in the technician’s faces. Was something going wrong??? Why did this hurt so badly and all of a sudden- it felt like their head might burst from the pain that came from the sound. 

...They had little time to ask, as within the next moment the world spun back into oblivion once again.

–☆–

“Soooooreeeen~!” 

A cheerful voice brought them to their senses, a thin thumb running over their cheek and wiping a tear from their eyes.

“Hey, are you listening to yourself?” Junko. One of Ren’s newer friends- though she’s been the most honest to them about everything going on.

“I-I ah….s-sorry. I guess I was rambling again, huh?” They looked over to her. They were sitting in an abandoned classroom, the blonde in question was sitting on one of the desks, looking down at them through empty, crystalline eyes.

“Yeah, you were totally out of it.” She chuckled, a smirk on her face, “I can’t believe how heartbroken you look, but honestly? It’s really cute.”

“Oh shutup-” They blushed a bit, looking away, “I-It’s...it’s nothing.”

“Oh really? Even though Makoto is going on what’s totally a date with Sayaka?” Junko leaned into their face, “It’s okay to feel that, y’know? It’s totally okay to let those feelings manifest into something quite...gorgeous. Wouldn’t you agree? It’s like you said, right?” “...There's beauty in everything. Even the worst bits of life…Even in the pain.” They repeated, another tear falling down their cheek.

“There we go… It’s really sad, how you’re literally the side character to your own life, you know? How often Asahina and the others just go off on their own without you?...Well, at least I’m here, you know?” Junko grinned a bit as they nodded, slowly.

“Yeah…”

“Junko...We do have a plan to discuss, you know…” A voice caught both of their attention, and looking towards the corner of the room, Mukuro Ikusaba. A sweet girl with dark black hair and another array of freckles. If they weren’t so bent out of shape with Makoto, honestly Mukuro was also very cute…

“Oh shutup!” Junko’s high pitch voice cut through their gay thoughts, quickly looking back to the blonde, “Anyway, let’s go over the plan I came up with! Alright?”

“Okay…” Mukuro nodded quietly, submitting to her sister’s behavior once again with a passive smile. This seemed to be quite the pattern with these two, and Ren wondered if all siblings acted like this...

“So, I heard some super super secret news about how this whole...event that happened at the school is only going to get worse,” Junko explained, “But with the rest of the outside world. We’re pretty sure that the school will lock up a bunch of us in here, and we want to make things that much more fun for everyone.”

“...Okay…?” Ren raised an eyebrow, concerned.

“We want you to be the one to get back at them.” 

“Huh?”

“You know!! Beat up everyone who keeps abandoning you! Your so called ‘friends’ and your ‘crush’ who abandon you when you need them the most? The ones who clearly couldn’t care less about you? Don’t you want to get back at them?” Junko leaned in towards Ren, who bit their lip, shaking their head.

“N-No...No of course not...I-I mean, they have lives of their own, they shouldn’t have to pay all their attention to me all the time…”

“Even when they clearly forget about you all the time? When you almost killed yourself at the end of last year?” Junko’s eyes stared into Ren’s soul, and they felt...almost violated by the eye contact.

“...E-even so...I-I wouldn’t hurt them…”

“So what are you gonna do? Turn tail and run back to Ireland? Back to your family?” They still don’t know HOW Junko found out about their past- as far as everyone else knew, they were just an Ireland transfer student.

“...N-No, of course not.”

“So, you’ll stay. And play our game.” Junko smiled, “Okay?”

“I…”

“I wouldn’t want something...devastating happening to your dear Naegi, would you?” Junko’s grin turned almost sadistic as she spoke, harshly grabbing their face, “So, you’ll play our game, right?”

Their heart stopped...if Makoto was going to put in danger.......no, they’d do anything in their power to make sure that happened, even if- for the time being- they had to play along.

“...Yes...yes of course.” They mumbled, cheeks squished.

“Good! Besides, it’s not like you’re killin’ em or anything! Not unless you wanna, then of course I’ve got your back on that!” Junko chuckled a bit, letting go of their face, watching as they rubbed their cheeks.

“I-I’d...I’d never kill anyone…”

“Oh dear, we’ll see.”

Junko got up from her seat, slowly approaching Ren and cornering them in their chair.

“J-Junko?...” Their eyes widened, “What are you doing?” 

“Hmm...I just want to show you something. Is that okay?” The blonde grinned, tilting their chin up, “After that, we can further discuss this prank of ours.”

“...N-Noo…?” They had a bad feeling about it, but Junko didn’t seem to listen. They quickly got up to leave, they suddenly didn’t feel safe in the room alone with her- but they felt their arm yanked back, and pinned back into the next desk. 

“J-Junko-!”

The blondes bright eyes appeared in their vision next, her grin a bit sharper than it probably should be.

“Mukuro, hold them down, I want to watch how they react to this video…”

...Something happened during that day. Something that...even to their mind's eye, was fuzzy. They remembered that they started crying again at one point, they remember they felt violated- but they didn’t know why. They don’t remember what happened. They don’t remember how they felt after- or if they even felt anything...But all they could recall after was a faint whisper of a voice, menacing yet dripping with faux sweetness.

“You’ll make them all pay for what they did to you, right?”

“Yes, Junko.”

…

“Junko?”

“Ohmygod- Yeeees?”

“...Let my memory get erased too. I promise I’ll still follow up on my deal. I...I’ll still have my anger, I’ll still have that aggression. I promise. Just...wipe my memory alongside everyone else. So I don’t spill our little secret. Okay?”

 “....Fine.”

–☆–

In that brief moment, they suddenly jolted upright- body trembling and a pained gasp leaving their lungs. They- they couldn’t breathe all of a sudden, and everything suddenly felt so loud-

The primary technician who ran the whole ordeal ran inside, quickly detaching the device and kneeling down in front of Ren.

“Soren?! Hey, can you hear me?!” No. No they couldn’t. All they could think about was how sick they felt, how suddenly suicidal they felt. Were they drowning? Why couldn’t they breathe?!

‘I agreed to hurt people for Junko...S-she manipulated me...she hurt me...to get me to play her game. To keep me from leaving before shit hit the fan...Fuck. Fuck, if I followed through on any of her ideas…To think I agreed to HER game- God I’m a fucking idiot!’ Their thoughts were running at a thousand miles an hour, struggling to breathe. Their hands were tugging desperately on their restraints, unsure if they wanted to hold their throat in attempts to try and breathe again, or if they wanted to claw at their arms until they bled.

They shook their head violently, and in the next moment- with little warning aside from their stomach doing a complete 180- doubled over in their chair and threw up right into their lap. The technician, alarmed, quickly rang up their psychologist who was a few floors down, to provide assistance. 

Everything in their vision swam. They conspired with Junko to hurt people. They conspired with Junko...they...they enabled the Killing Game before it even started.

They puked again. They felt like they might throw up their lungs next, at this rate.

Why were they alive? Why did they have to be the one alive?! They kept making one mistake after another- and this just proved it! This just proved how fucked up they were. How dangerous they were to others.

“Ren- Ren, tell me what you saw!” The technician grabbed their shoulders, trying to get them to focus. Their trashing just got worse. “No! No- No let go of me! Let go of me! I- I can’t breathe- oh my god what did I do!?” Their voice was hoarse from the acidic bile in their throat, struggling not to get sick even more. 

“What did you see?! What did you recall?!” The technician kept trying to talk to them, which only resulted in overwhelming them all the more. The last thing they can completely remember after abruptly waking up from their memory revitalization- was screaming at the top of their lungs. They just wanted to die- they didn’t deserve to live for working with Junko- for working with despair. Frankly, they wished they had died instead of recalling anything at all.

They…frankly don’t remember the next hour or so. They remember faces, eyes, voices speaking to them...a needle being put into their arm…

And soon, they calmed down a bit, feeling sluggish and heavy. Everything felt a bit fuzzy at the edges of their mind as the screaming- both physically and mentally- all but stopped. 

‘Sedatives,’ The thought connected briefly, before the word escaped them altogether in the cloud of drugs. Their psychologist helped them to their feet-- when did they get onto the floor of the laboratory?-- and out of the lab.

Being barely supported under their arm, they basically dragged their feet back to their shared apartment room within their sector’s building with Makoto. Their psychologist stuck by their side until they were able to walk easier, before heading off to schedule a few more appointments in the very near tomorrow. They had a feeling they’d be busy tomorrow, if they even had the energy to get up. 

They remember looking at the time...But they don’t remember what it was. Late, they figured. They stumbled inside, nearly falling on their face as they held their head, still trying to wrap their mind around everything they remembered.

The slight shifting from one of the rooms in the apartment got their attention though, and within another blink Makoto was at their side- helping them stand up a bit and trying to help them into bed. His mouth moved, and they acknowledged that he was saying something to them...but it took a few moments before anything he said actually was heard by them. When they were, they looked up a bit more at him, to which he sighed. 

“What happened?” He asked them, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Their eyes watered a bit, mumbling a quiet, ‘I’m so so sorry...I’m… I failed everyone here…’ 

“Failed? Ren?” He sat them down, clasping their hand, “You had the memory recovery procedure today right? What happened?”

“...I-I can’t...I can’t tell you.” They mumbled, eyes squeezed shut, “You’d hate me. Everyone would...I-I can’t… I can’t take it…” They shook their head, breathing starting to go shallow again as Makoto quickly waved his hands in mild panic.

“Hey, hey, calm down, calm down! It’s going to be okay. Y-you don’t need to talk about it right now, okay? Everything’s okay.” He reassured them, concerned and slightly panicked, “I could never hate you, Ren…” “...” They wanted to scream, they wanted to explain everything to those eyes, they wanted to prove him wrong. They wanted to prove that they should be hated, especially after what they’ve done...but they just felt too tired. They felt too scared...they felt too insecure to admit to it.

“Just rest for now, okay? I’ll bring you some water, and..” He noticed how stained their clothes were, and his nervous smile faltered, “And a change of clothes, apparently, yikes… Do you need anything else?”

“...Medication…” They mumbled quietly, tossing off their shirt and pants without much mind to it, “Please…”

“...Right, okay.” He faltered a bit and quickly looked away from their frame, getting back to his feet, “You rest up for a bit, and I’ll...I’ll get what you need, okay?”

“Okay…” “I love you…” ‘You wouldn’t if you knew what I did…’

Laying down, they felt their eyes flutter as the sedatives further kicked in, feeling their consciousness start to slip…

“I love you too.”