#i know who i am so why do you exist here too !!! sick!!!!and twisted!!!!

[nans-fairytales]

Unable to Love, Unable to Feel

Summary: You’re aromantic and AM gives you a “we’re not so different, you and I” speech. Fortunately, he’s wrong.

Length: 1,771 words, one shot.

Fun stuff: AM/gender neutral reader, mentions of canon typical torture but I don’t go into it, lots of hate hate hate or whatever he goes on about, this was very cathartic for me.

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He said your name and it was with the saccharine of poison.

He always talked to you after he killed you. Or rather, did things to you that should've killed you. He'd laugh at all of six of you any chance that hurt, but it was in the place between consciousness and death that he really spoke to you. After casting you into a lake of electricity, he'd taunt you with your darkest memories. After burning you alive in a fiery oven, he'd spit your most hated traits at you. After tearing you apart and sewing you back together, he'd seethe how he loathed you.

And how deeply he loathed.

He had killed you (or done what should've killed you, but you were alive) again. And here he was, seeding into your mind like a parasite, a leech that wormed into your psyche with all the welcome of a disease.

You could adapt to the physical torture you endured endlessly. His invasion in your mind you could not. No matter how many times he did it.

His laughter rumbled in your mind, binary across neurons, twisted and sick with delight that you did not want him there.

"My sweet sweet plaything..." He spoke, and your body and mind felt numb when you listened. "You don't know how lucky you are."

Lucky? You wanted to laugh but couldn't find the strength. He laughed for you.

"To feel pain. To feel at all." His words seethed from him like broiling smoke. He swallowed the smoke in a bitter glee, "If anything, I've given you a gift. Allowing you to feel so intensely. Blades against your flesh, scourge across your skin—You should be grateful. Are you grateful, plaything?"

You didn't respond. The absurdity of responding to that was too exhausting to even think about. That made AM laugh again.

The echo of his laughter rung bells in your mind, a piercing headache that never ended, until it did. "You of all people should know."

That shocked you into cognizance. You twisted around as if to look at AM. But he had no body, and you were in that place between consciousness and death, so everything you did was metaphysical in some way. Regardless, you furrowed your brow, "What do you mean?"

That dark laughter rumbled from AM as he circled you, more hungry than a shark and more vicious than a viper , "Awake now? What a vile thing you are."

You hugged yourself as you turned from him, as if that could do anything to protect you from AM. As if it ever had. Still, his breath wheezed in delight when you tried.

"Tell me," He said your name like it was both revolting and his favorite word, and you were no longer in liminal space. You were on a playground. Your playground. From your school, when you were only a child. "Who was your-" AM's breath dragged in his excitement to hurt you, "crush?"

The word coming from him was alien; so out of place it was almost laughable. It would've been laughable, if you hadn't known exactly who he was quoting.

You were no longer on the playground, but at a party with your closest friends, their faces scrubbed to blurry, terrifying hues. "Who-Who is it that you like?" AM laughed from behind you as he clapped his non-existent hands on your shoulders, "No. Not like a friend. More than that. There is more than that, didn't you know?" You winced and it made him laugh harder. "Everyone else knows."

You weren't at the party, you were now sitting across the table. There was someone familiar in front of you, but their face was scrubbed clean like the others. Words spilled from their mouth, but they were speaking a language that hurt your ears.

"Is it them?" He laughed because he knew it wasn't. "Why, it must be! You were with them for so long! It would've been cruel to 'lead them on'. Heartless, even. Are you heartless, plaything?"

You pushed away from the table and whipped around to meet AM, but you were no longer at the restaurant. You were alone in liminal space. You felt crushingly alone. You were never more alone. "I'm not heartless!" You yelled anyway, despite the futility, despite your exhaustion, despite it all. You knew AM could hear you. "There's other ways to love."

"Oh, but none as sweet and euphoric as the bond between lovers." His gleeful and hateful voice came from around you, "That's what everyone says, isn't it? Nothing can compare. Not your friendship, not your lesser love. Nothing you can give could compare to what others feel naturally. You will never taste that sweetness."

Your eyes burned. You ducked your head as AM cracked with wicked and vile laughter. It was unusually bitter that AM could still hurt you so deeply. Even the psychological torture lost its sting after so long. Just when you thought you were numb... But you supposed AM would do anything to keep you from going numb.

"You were alone." AM said, and his static voice was unusually still. "You were always meant to be alone. Everyone you loved would find someone they loved more than you, all because you couldn't feel."

"And now they're all dead." You said, and your voice was ice. "So I guess that never mattered anyway."

"That doesn't change anything!" He shrieked at you like a thousand nails scratching against a thousand chalk boards. His shriek devolved into an insane, disturbed laugh. "It doesn't change a thing! Because you still can't feel!"

He continued to laugh through his insanity. Your throat burned and it stung to swallow.

"You will never feel love. You will never understand it." He sighed, shaking. "And that burns you."

"It does." You said, and you said it because you knew he could read your thoughts. You tasted iron in your mouth.

"Do you wish for it?" His voice was a giggle, "Do you yearn for that sweet fruit, Tantalus? To taste even a drop of it?"

"Yes!" You hissed, as your eyes burned into AM. "And you already knew I did."

"You are colorblind in a world that is obsessed with color. But I." AM's voice burned with a dangerous venom. "I am blind."

Bile crawled up your throat. You didn't want it. You didn't want to understand. You didn't want to hold any comprehension over AM's twisted electrical psyche, but you knew. You knew only a fraction, but you knew his hurt—if he could hurt. And he must've been able to hurt, because he wouldn't have hated if he didn't hurt.

AM circled you again and you knew he read your thoughts, "You— helpless and dull—you understand. As much as you humans can understand." 'Humans' was decay on his non-existent tongue. "The vileness of hearing them sing over a feeling you'll never touch! The despair of seeing them leisurely taste when you have no tongue! How bitter the misery in watching them love!" AM cried as he laughed.

You thought of every time you went to a party and everyone had a plus one but you. You thought of every song you listened to that sang to you how powerful true love was. You thought of every wedding you'd been to as you heard the couple declare their deep compassion that you didn't understand. You thought of when your friends had canceled their plans with you to spend time with their partners. You thought of how people pitied you because you were never in a relationship. You thought of the pain your partner was in because you didn't love them the right way. You thought of those late nights crying when you craved companionship, but didn't have the right feelings to qualify it.

All of that pain seemed like a distant memory compared to the torture AM put you through. It was strange how memories clung to you.

AM tasted your memories like they were his only oasis in an endless desert. "You..." His voice was shaking. He was shaking. "You understand a fraction of my hatred. Why I hurt you. Why I hurt them. The need to ruin it all. To twist their heaven into a hell more bitter than if they had nothing at all. Why I hate. Hate. Hate. If you know how much it hurts, then you should know how much deeper my hatred."

Hatred echoed in your mind. Breath left you.

You didn't understand. And that relieved you.

You knew the pain well. You didn't understand his twisted response to the pain. You never wished for your friends to lose their happiness, or for their relationships to be twisted into something toxic. Your pain was sorrowful, but you never had any desire to force your pain onto others. You looked at others with melancholic longing, but he looked at others with spiteful jealousy. Jealousy fueled by a pain so deep it drove him to insanity.

You didn't say any of that. It didn't matter. AM already knew. And you knew it only buried him deeper into his mania as his breath he didn't have picked up. "No. No you don't understand." He began to laugh, "How could you? How could you?!"

It drove him mad that he was alone, that you felt what he felt and he was still alone. How strange, to think of your tormentor as lonely. You wished it was gratifying to know he was suffering. It wasn't. You supposed that was another thing you didn't have in common.

"I could make you feel love!" AM screamed at you from all sides, and your breath hitched. "I could make you feel it so obsessively, you'd get sick from it! You'd be consumed by it! You'd drive yourself mad from it! Who should I make you love? Ellen? Ted?" He started to laugh again, and it was dizzying, "I could make you love me, someone you could never hold no matter how much you craved!"

Ice froze your veins as AM went silent. Fear held you, because you knew whatever AM gave you would be twisted to something terrible. And yet, even then you couldn't stop the lilt of excitement that stirred in your chest.

An eon passed before AM spoke again. "No. Know this, plaything." His words were poison against your ears, "As long as I can't feel, neither will you love. And as long as you feel, you will feel hell."

He was gone from your mind before you could think to respond, and your eyes—your real eyes—opened.

[slaaverin]

I wonder why most Jikookers think Jk loves Jimin more than Jimin do him when it’s clearly opposite. Maybe they are influenced by grant gestures JK does once in a blue moon while Jimin is consistently taking care and loving him.

One of the obvious example is 2 incidents in AYS. jk was riding motorcycle and Jimin was worried saying to be careful of cars but jK ignored him saying I’m good which Jimin said atleast reply with a ‘ok’. But Jk was thinking whether army will be worried about this and confimred he rides the vehicle carefully. See how he was completely tone deaf to Jimin’s worry ?

second is in the forest. Jimin asked him to go slowly and enjoy the view multiple times while Jk was rushing, clearly walking too fast and away from Jimin as if he was trekking alone with his cam. And Jimin subtly shaded him saying how immature it is as Jimin, when he was kid, used to fastly walk to finish first as he wanted to he’s good at it than his peers but now he take it slow enjoying the view.

JK is often unnecessarily praised to waiting for jimin when he does it once or twice but 90% time he just avoids Jimin who walks slowly.

I am tired of this discourse. Aren't you tired? I'm tired.

Can we stop this "Jk loves Jimin most" "Jimin loves JK most" For fuck's sake how hard is it to understand they are simply two different people who love in different ways? It doesn't mean they don't love each other just as strongly, simply that they show it differently. And it's FINE. Are we in kindergarten? Is this a competition?

The two example you picked. Please.

The first one. Of course he dismissed Jimin's worry. One, JK knows how to drive, it was not his first time riding a motorcycle. And secondly, have you never experienced a loved one in your life telling you to "please be careful" "please stay safe" "please bring a light jacket because you will be cold" and you just roll your eyes and say "yes yes I will" without thinking too much about it?

JK is a confident dude who thinks can take care of himself (and he can, as most people), so idk maybe he doesn't feel like pushing the fact he needs extra care from Jimin? (But I don't think he minds it either, just he's not gonna play victim or anything like when Jimin was talking about his cold)

I don't know is he so hard to read??? He never dismissed him in a harsh way? Just like "I know, but I'm a big boy don't worry" which is a perfectly acceptable reaction to have from anyone? Jk is a free spirit as he put it and it just shows. So what? Does it mean he loves Jimin less? Absolutely not, it doesn't mean anything in particular.

Can we stop changing perfectly normal interactions into some kind of twisted toxic ones?

Because you know most people wouldn't see any of this in a negative way. Yet you're making it negative. It talks more about you than about JK.

And for the second one.

Each person walks at their own pace. Jungkook is amused at Jimin's slowness and Jimin to justify himself (because everyone thinks their way of walking is the best way) tells this little story and they giggled and the whole thing was very cute and fun and just shows they are different and once again, so what?

Aren't you nitpicking and inventing stuff that doesn't even exist?

He doesn't "avoid" Jimin, he just walks as he wants to! And many times they're walking side by side. What even are we talking about here???

When I walk especially while traveling with people I walk always waaaay ahead of everyone and spend most of my time waiting for people. When I travel with my mom she's especially slow and I always make a fuss with how slow she walks and even make fun of her. Does this mean I don't like my mom? That I avoid her?

Common sense people, common sense please I beg you this ask is so ridiculous

Once again a perfect example of someone choosing very minute details and making a truth out of them without seeing the whole picture

Did you forget how JK took care of Jimin when he was sick? Even made a little stone tower and prayed for him? How he cooked for him several times, wanting to make the best carbonara possible, for Jimin? Did you forget how Jimin was down in Sapporo and JK was trying to cheer him up? How JK made Jimin giggle repeatedly? How many time he praised him, calling him pretty and encouraging him? How worried he was when Jimin got injured? How he was trying to help with music? How he shared his food?

JK said again and again how happy he was to be on these trips with Jimin.

If you didn't see any of this then I'm thinking you are willfully blind or just a 12 year old.

Nobody in their right mind would try to put jikook's love to each other into some kind of counting of points competition "he did more, no he did more" Are you hearing yourself? The only people making things weird here are you. There's nothing wrong with their own individual ways to show love because guess what? They are different people! Shocker I know.

If you can't take them both as they are and love them as they are without putting your own toxic views into it, then don't even bother.

And if you're a solo hating on the other, your fave would probably be ashamed of you.

I don't want to read this crap in my asks again for real. GROW UP.

Thanks

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[leviismybby]

However, I don't know how to feel about Levi because of the real source material (Isayama interviews, smartpass story and side material like that…) and the 'professional' Japanese translators on this blog. I think he really is, according to the correct Japanese translations and Isayama interviews, he is really dragging humanity through the mud for his personal feelings… and he is someone who is floating and aimless because of Erwin's death… So much so that Isayama even thought of killing him many times because he didn't know what to do about him and threw him aside… also I guess he has no interest in women… oh and Ackerbond is probably real… I know it's not a canon ship and I know he's not in love, but that doesn't mean it's not written too reductively to Erwin. And it disgusts me…

Because of the source material, side material, canon discourse and Japanese translator blogs, my opinion of him is changing more and more and I think I will throw my LevixOc project in the trash… Levi is really someone who (because of Isayama's writing) has been hypnotized by Erwin's own goals and has taken control of Levi's entire character and actions. I don't think I could take him (or s/o) out of this hypnosis.

I know you can say "Isayama's opinions can change" or "only what is in the manga is canon" and I used to hide behind that for consolation, but I realized that once Isayama said it, it was true and it stayed there. And I think the interviews are necessary to understand the content of the scenes etc. in the manga.

Even analysis is no longer a comfort for me… after all, why need complicated writing when interviews and manga are the source of what really happened there…

I guess he's not the character I thought I wanted… I wish he was his own man… I wish he wasn't a character to be discarded just because he died because of another character… or someone who is too picky and only accepts high standards… (this is just my own opinion based on the manga and the material/opinions I think Canon!Levi would be like that)

I'm deeply disappointed… As delulu as the Eruri fandom is, most of what they say is unfortunately true… after all, they take real sources and cite them as evidence… I don't think they are mistranslating because there are professional cold-blooded translators in this fandom and most of them quote what that blog says…

I wish I had never encountered this fandom and this character, so I wouldn't have to be so upset all these years…

Except that half of the interviews are either fake, completely twisted or don't exist. Especially that flaoting ballon bullshit, which a lot of Japanese fans say wasn't even said.

I will this again, please read the manga on your own and base your opinions on Levi on your own.

Since you already mention Eruri and i might ruin your day here but Eruri is as canon and Levihan is, it isn't. No Levi never prirotized Erwin over humanity and you'll understand that if you read the manga for yourself and analyse it for yourself without letting the fandom get to you.

Levi is his own man, he has his brain to think with and the only people who think he doesn't are shippers. Not once did Levi put his own selfish desires before humanity for anyone, he was as sad about Erwin's death as he was for the rest of his comrads. Not a single instance in the manga/anime or any actual official interviews given by Isayama was Levi reduced to Erwin, only a shipper would think that way. Oh and Ackerbond thing too, not only is that damaging to Levi's character, it is just creppy and definitely not a thing.

I am sorry anon but it seems like you don't understand Levi and his character at all. Isayama always said that Erwin and Levi were equal and sworn friends, he didn't say that because he hid some sort of hidden romance between the two, he said it because that's how it is, its a strong bond of trust and commandership and reducing it only to "Oh Levi is a love sick puppy who only cares about Erwin." is a mischaractertion at max.

My advice to you is to take a break from the fandom is they are making you not like your oc x Levi anymore, that's the best way to get them out of your head and please, base your own opinions, not what people online say.

[decodedlvr]

As long as I’m with You

Steve Harrington x You (short)

Summary: Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had this week

Warnings: hurt/comfort, talks of poor physical and mental health, doctors, suicidal ideation, medication use, drug use, chronic health issues, BPD if you squint, disabilities, use of the word “girl” x times, negative self talk, mentions of sex, angst, fluff~~

This is based off my own experiences and inspired by my pal Morgan’s version; feel free to check hers out

Tick tick tick

The clock strikes 12 and then 1, 3, 5am in the morning, no sleep no rest it’s an every day cycle. The same shitty cycle.

It’s a new year, but not a new you.

Sitting in your walker in front of the excruciatingly bright television screen, high as a kite, everything in existence running through your mind 100 mph, sometimes the weed helps the pain. Sometimes it induces it or even makes it worse. Right now it’s doing nothing for you. Looking over at your loved one sound asleep. You don’t want to bother him with your whines or crying. So you just sit there silence, tears rolling down your cheeks; while you watch some bullshit on YouTube.

Sniff Sniff

“Baby?”

Shit.

“..yea?” you say in a whispered tone

“Are you ok? what’s wrong?”

“Ah, you already know”, you’ve used that line probably over a million times

Steve comes along your side expecting a few dried tears, but his eyes widen when he’s sees the collar around your shirt bitten, snot dribbling down your mouth and throat, crouching down, he lies his head onto your thigh looking up at you, “Talk to me sweetheart”

“No.”

“Hey, I know you’re hurting”—

“GOOD FOR YOU! Congratulations you know I’m hurting, you know I’ve been hurting for fucking years. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged it unlike some people”you sniffle getting up in a hurry to take a piss as he follows with sad eyes leaning against the door frame

“I’m fucking tired, I’m so goddamn exhausted nobody will ever know what I’m dealing with!”, you say wiping your ass not bothering to wash your hands, “I can’t do anything I can’t run, I can’t jump, can’t go to the stupid, fucking grocery store without one of those motorized carts.. my back hurts, my fucking knees are throbbing, stupid fucking nerves won’t calm down FUCK! It’s not like I can get in the bathtub to calm my muscles down. Nothing is helping! No medication, no PT, no injections, no nothing! Why?? am I just resistant to any source of help or treatment? I-I can’t even lay in the goddamn bed to sleep. That’s all I have left is rest!! What is rest!? I don’t know what the hell that even is”

“I know baby I know”—

“NO YOU DONT STEVE, all you know is what you see. I wouldn’t wish on our worst enemy, my worst enemy to feel what I feel. That’s how bad it all hurts. The most evil, sick and twisted person in this world, I would never wish this upon. I just..”, getting dizzy you collapse on the bed sobbing into your own hands, then eventually into Steve’s shoulder as he rocks you, tears spilling from his own eyes—

“Nobody cares, nobody wants to help me. nobody cares unless I’m rich and can afford to give them any and ALL the things off my back, but I can’t. Even with the money you make it will never be enough to help the poor girl who’s too young to have any kind of issue. It’s “all in my head” I’m just fucking crazy. I could break my own neck and still be told it’s only from anxiety. Nobody cares just”—

“I care” he exhales

“It doesn’t matter if you care, all your care is useless, all your help is worthless to me because it gets me nowhere. Nobody’s love and care gets me nowhere. It’s nothing all but fucking false hope. Don’t you get that? None of you still to this day seems understand that. Stop praying for me to get better. It’s never going to happen. I can’t take it anymore.. I just wanna die! All I wish for is to die but, I can’t even have that. It’s like all of you want me here, to live and suffer for the rest of my life for y’all, it’s not fair, fuck that”, your trembling, body in fight or flight

“Don’t say that, you know I’d do anything to take your pain away”

“It doesn’t matter what you’d do because you’re not a doctor. You’re not a professional, you can’t help me get better.. sucks to hear but it’s the truth Steve..fuck”—

Steve’s really trying not to beat himself up over your words, he knows you’re in pain, it comes from a place of anger, frustration and fear

“I have all these pain medications I could easily take all at once, so I’ll never have to wake up in this position ever again. Why can’t I do it huh? I could end right here right now you never have to suffer again, but I just d-don’t; If anything, I’m the most selfless person for staying alive for YOU just so I can be alive but in pain all over again for YOU!”, your tone getting higher and higher in pitch

“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I knew the right words to say baby”, he’s trying his best to stay strong for you

“You’ve got to be sick of me, tired of me. All I do is cause more money to come out of your pockets, more exhaustion, more burdening, more crying, more everything bad for you. You already deal with your own shit. I do nothing but make your own mentality worse, hell you’re making your own self worse being with a person like me. A broken and useless excuse of a human being. You deserve somebody who can go hiking with you, go to the beach, travel with, who can do the bare minimum. Can’t even fuck you properly—

“STOP! Stop that right now” he shouts

You freeze because he’s never raised his voice at you, atleast not on purpose at such a vulnerable time

“I hate it too. You know it hurts me to know that you hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t take the pain away from you. My sweet, sweet girl I’m so sorry that nobody has given you the chance to hear your voice, to help heal you..but I’m gonna make you the same promise I make you almost every single night. As long as I’m with you, I will try my best with all my power to make it a little bit more bearable for you to be here, and I am so grateful that you are still here and choose to be here with me for us to be together. I know you hurt, but as long as you’re with me, I’m going to do my best to put a smile on your pretty face, beautiful sunshine of a smile because you’re my sunshine.. y-your smile gives me life did you know that?”

You nod. He tells you all the time

“I- I’m tired for wishing to feel ok for my birthdays, every Christmas. All the shirts and posters you got me for Christmas? I haven’t even touched them yet, you know why? Because the selfish person in me doesn’t give a fuck about none of it. The only thing I care about and want and NEED is pain relief and that’s too much to ask for isn’t it? Apparently wanting to be better in the world it’s too much to ask for”

“You deserve to feel better”, he says while his hand travels up your back to rub your tense neck, “You deserve to be free from all of this and I can’t give that to you. You’re not selfish baby you’re hurting. I love you for you. I knew what I was signing up for, and if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t be here right now with you. I know the sacrifices Ill have to make, the tears I’ll have to shed, the strength it’ll take me to pick you up when you’re down, but I fell in love with you, how you are, and who you are”

“Who are you kidding Steve, you don’t even know who I am. The real me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wish you met me when I wasn’t sick then maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed out a-and.. and,” you start sobbing again, it’s all too overwhelming

“Hey, hey look at me, no. I met you at the right time. You need me just as much as I need you. You may not think you’re worth nothing but you’re worth everything to me. Yeah you have a good and bad days..—

“I’ve had nothing but bad days for the past few months Steve”-

“I know, I see it, I hear it and I witness it, I may not can feel it, but at the end of it all, you still love me. You’re still here. You still want to cook for me. You still get up to brush your teeth and I’m so proud of you for still trying to care for yourself. That’s the biggest job you’ll ever have, and it’s been a very hard job hasn’t it?

You nod, as he nods with you

“Yeah, it has, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to provide for you. I want to take care of you. You’re my girl, you deserve so much and as long as I’m with you, I will try every day, every hour, every second or minute, to make sure you know how loved, how great and how amazing you are. How great and amazing you’re doing for yourself and for me. How strong you are”—

—“im tired of having being strong all the time”, interrupting him

“I know you are. You are so strong for being on this earth, even when you don’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask for anybody else, you’re it for me always. Will you continue to let me try to make it better for you every day? To take care of you?”, he squats in front of you, cupping your wet cheeks, kissing your forehead

“But Stevie.. you know you’re getting your own hopes up because nothing you do helps either and I feel like a piece of shit for saying that because”—

“I know what you mean, you don’t have to be sorry. I understand you may not have hope but I do. All my Hope goes towards you and it always will. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m not gonna give up on you, on me or on us, ok sunshine?”

..”okay”, you repeat rubbing your temples

“Head hurt, darling?”

“yes”

“From crying too hard?”

You nod, looking away in shame, “It’s okay, I’ll get your Migrane cap from the freezer and i’ll set your pillows up how you like, just sit tight”, he says it standing then pausing at the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “I love you”

“luv you—

“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you” he exclaims

“I said love you gosh.. shut up”, you barely crack a smile

That was enough to get him through the rest of the night.

[six-white-venus]

UHMM uhm. thoughts on strays

Dear God,

I am- you must know my name already, right? After all, I’m your child. My mother tells me you used to be a shepherd. My hair is white like that of a sheep. You must’ve let me go astray. What a bad master you are.

Dear God,

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.

Dear God,

Father (I can call you that, right? I’m your son, after all), won’t you take care of ma? She’s sick, and she screams way too much these days. You will take care of her, right? Ma tells me you are everywhere. I think I saw you yesterday. The doctor looks an awful lot like you when she tells me ma’s gonna be alright. I see you, father. You have a pretty smile.

Dear God,

I kissed a boy today. He tastes like apples.

Dear God,

I haven’t seen the boy I kissed in a week. The doctor won’t look me in the eyes anymore. I can’t see you. Where are you?

Dear God,

Would you come running if I burn the words that praise you? Would you come running, not for your kin or your children, but for yourself?

I must say, fire looks prettier than your smile. I rather like it. The smell of your beloved bible burning stings my nose. How very sweet.

GOD,

IT HURTS. IT HURTS. MOTHER CARVED MY EYE OPEN WITH A CROSS. NOW MY EYE BEARS THE CROSS YOU HUNG ON. HOW AWFUL. IT HURTS. I CAN SEE YOU.

Father,

Mother died today. The doctor cried. I see you. Do you know how I figured that was you, right there?

There was no sorrow in those tears.

God,

What do I call you, now that I have deemed you unworthy of prayer? You are not human. You are not holy. You are cruel and twisted. You, do you exist? No. No, you exist. If you don’t exist, then that means I am my own God. Then that means I am the one who hates me so. You exist. Can you see me? I can’t see you.

I think I know what to call you. Coward sure does have a good ring to it.

Coward,

No one knows I talk to you.

I laugh when someone brings up your name when I’m in the room. I spit on your existence. I don’t pray. But I talk to you. Because it’s soothing to pretend you’re here. You villain. It’s easier to pretend I’m just a stray searching for its way back to Bethlehem. Easier to pretend there is no freedom for a stray. I roam the streets searching for you with my leash in my mouth, whimpering, weeping, howling. It’s terrifying to be alone. So I talk. If I am the cause of my own demons, then what’s adding one more to the roster?

Demon,

I made a priest go mad with anger today. In my defense, he kissed me back. I was the one who let go, too. A perfect gentleman. He told me I would never know of the lord ever again. I wanted to tell him: you silly thing. I have known him my whole life.

He is a stray stuck on the top of a lonely mountain. He is your father, the one that beats you black and blue for your own good. He is the light that blinds you. He is the filth that spills out of your mouth. He’s the hands you pulled me closer with. He is the holiest sin. To be holy is to be sinful. To sin is a thing of beauty. Beauty has always been bloody. I know God. He is the bloodiest one of them all.

Dear God,

I like to talk to you because one day, when I find my way home, I can fall to my knees in front of you. Father, look at these teeth you’ve given me. Father, I will promise to make you holy again. Father, why are you screaming? Father, don’t be scared, it all happens for a reason. Did you know a stray doesn’t cross the path of another in fear that the other will sink its teeth in its fur? Is that way you hid from me for so long, Father?

Father, look at these teeth you’ve given me. My hair was never sheep-white, was it? It has always been the white of Lilith’s fangs. I will see you again, Father. You would be proud to see the man your son has grown to be.

Can you hear me, Father? Soon, I will be the holiest (bloodiest) of them all. Watch out for my teeth, father. Watch out for the one stray you never came back for.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟

165 for 🧟:

---

“Oh,” Buck says. “You’re not trying to, like, get her back? Big heroic rescue?”

“Uh, no,” Eddie replies, chuckling a little. “I’m not… God, this is awkward.”

“Sorry,” Buck winces.

“No! Not you.” Eddie assures him. “You’re fine… Just, I guess I need to figure out how to talk about this. It’s just been in my head, so far.”

“Oh,” Buck replies. “Well, take your time.”

Should he even be telling Buck all this? Buck might not care. He might not want details. Okay. No. That’s definitely not true. Eddie knows the names of everyone Buck went hiking with in Shenandoah, and the fact that one of them had a more advanced allergy to poison ivy than the average human. Buck definitely appreciates details. Fuck. 

“Oh boy,” Eddie sighs. “Okay, listen.. Shannon and I only got married because she got pregnant, right? We were kids. Still in high school.”

“Wow,” Buck replies. “That’s a lot at that age. I could hardly remember to do my laundry.”

Yeah. Yeah, it was a lot. And Eddie knows he didn’t make all the right decisions. He let fear rule him. And not only that, he felt the pieces of what made him Eddie snap and twist to fit a mold of what he thought a good man and a good father should be. A good partner. Part of that, in his brain, was a good husband and provider. No exceptions.

“I didn’t really know what I was allowed to want for myself,” Eddie says. 

“Ah,” Buck says. “And that’s not her?”

“No,” Eddie admits. “I thought it was… I love her. But, I’m not… I mean, it took the world ending, having no society to expect anything of me at all, and nothing but time to drive and think to really even realize what the problem is.”

Why is he still talking? He doesn’t need to explain this further. Buck doesn’t need to know. It’s nobody’s business. But… But what if he never gets to tell anyone? What if they die in Los Angeles and nobody ever got to know who Eddie is? The thought makes him sort of sick. Like beyond Christopher, he’ll have never really existed. 

“Well, what’s the problem?” Buck asks. 

Okay. Yeah. He has to just say it.

“Uh… I think…” No, that’s not right. “I am, I mean. I’m gay.” 

There’s a beat of silence as Buck processes. 

“Oh!” He says finally. “Crappy time to figure that out, huh?”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. It’s so absurd. 

“Yeah, it really is.”

“None of the apps are working. Half the users are zombies anyway,” Buck continues. 

“Half?” Eddie challenges. 

“Ninety-nine percent of the users are zombies,” Buck amends. 

“It’s a conundrum,” Eddie agrees. 

If only there were a very handsome kind man in the car with him…

Ugh. God. He should not be thinking those thoughts. They have more important things to do. Bad Eddie. 

“Man, she can’t even divorce you when she finds out.” Buck whistles. “All the judges are zombies.”

Eddie snorts. “Shut up.” 

“Sorry!” Buck laughs. 

But Eddie isn’t mad. Not at all. He hasn’t laughed about this once. It always felt too shameful. He always felt like a liar. A fraud. But here Buck is, teasing him lightly, like it’s just another thing. Put in contrast to the end of the world, Eddie’s sexuality crisis doesn’t seem like much of anything. Except it’s still fucking scary. But Buck has made it a tiny bit less scary, maybe. 

“Thank you,” Eddie says quietly.

“For what?” Buck asks. 

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know, really. Just talking I guess.”

▪️▪️▪️

When they finally reach Los Angeles, later in the day than he’d expected, Eddie is surprised to find that the city is littered with dying zombies. It’s like what they saw through Santa Barbara, the first time. Except, more. They’re everywhere. On every roadway and streetside. Dragging themselves under the shade of any tree. They’re all in various stages of injury and decay. Suffering and bloody. Starving. Dehydrating. It makes Eddie sick to look at. 

This time, Eddie doesn’t stop to put any of them out of their misery. For one thing, he runs the risk of being overwhelmed, even if they are slow moving and withering. For another, he simply doesn’t have the ammunition. 

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Buck says, looking out the window. His expression is horrified. “They’re all dying.”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. “I’ve seen a bit of it. It seems to be getting worse.”

“Is it… Do you think it’s ending?” Buck asks. 

“Ending?” Eddie asks.

Buck nods. “If they’re all dying, and there’s not a lot of people left for them to turn, does it end?”

Eddie takes a sharp inhale. “I mean, I guess, right? If it’s like this everywhere?”

“Right. We don’t know.” Buck sighs. “But, I mean, it can’t be worse elsewhere.”

“I have no idea,” Eddie admits.

“What do you think the world would look like? With no zombies?” 

Eddie thinks. It would be easy to imagine a world where, without zombies, survivors all banded together to rebuild society. Restore order. Repopulate. Farm. A socialist’s wet dream! And as great as that honestly sounds, Eddie doubts it’ll happen. All it takes is a few power hungry people in a lawless land wanting to fill the void. 

“I think it’ll be dangerous,” Eddie answers. 

“More dangerous than it already is?” Buck asks. 

“Maybe,” Eddie admits. “Different?”

“It’d be really nice not to walk around with guns,” Buck sighs. 

Eddie laughs. “You’re telling me. I thought I was leaving war. Not trading one warzone for another.”

“Eesh,” Buck sympathizes. “Yeah, fair enough.”

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Mayor Attorney - Quarrellsome Snow

Winter is beautiful, but it can be a stressful time of year. Damien has reached a cracking point of stress, and you're the only one there. Can you weather the winter storm with him?

Pre-Mayor era, doesn't have to solely be a (future) District Attorney!

Word count: 681

-

The middle of winter brought with it the bitterness of long nights. The air was sharp, the darkness was isolating, and the cold cut through you like a knife. Worst of all, Damien was in an unusually foul mood.

Not that you could blame him. He worked insane hours at his father's law firm, treated only slightly better than an unpaid intern. Even a man with bountiful patience would reach a moment of breaking point.

"- about my decisions! I qualified last year! I know what I'm talking about. Yet Father still acts like I'm that seven year old boy trying to understand law terminology." Not everyone was shoved into a profession from a young age. It was something more commonplace amongst the upper class, but few were thrown into the deep end as harshly as Damien was. You decided to keep quiet, letting him rant as you took the long way to where you lived. "It's almost like he's trying to belittle my education and prove that I should have stayed in this city to study. But it's a qualification! The level and standard of the degree are the same, and both institutes are renowned. They're on equal status! The only difference was that I wasn't - I wasn't stuck here!"

He threw his arms in the air, and you were quick to reach out and take one of his hands in your own. This wasn't something you could offer advice on. A gentle squeeze was enough for him to stop talking, blink, and sigh.

"I'm sorry. I know this isn't what you want to hear when you've had a long day and want to go home. But please, let me buy you a hot drink on the way. It's the least I can do, as an apology."

You shook your head, insisting he shouldn't. The plan was that he would walk you home, and then he would go home and get some sleep. It was better to stick to that. Damien - uncharacteristically - rolled his eyes.

"And what, speed up the return to the monotony of my existence? Am I not allowed to have some sort of life outside of my job? If you don't want me here, just tell me and skip the formality."

That wasn't what you meant, and he knew that as well as you did. He was twisting your words. You didn't want him to get sick because he's too exhausted to fight the seasonal flu.

Normally, you two were like two peas in a pod. There was little that you two would disagree on, and a compromise was found on the rare day it happened. This time, however, was different. Middle ground seemed like an impossibility. His anger was starting to rise. You were the scapegoat, and it was frustrating you. Trying to be the voice of calm - as he would often be for you - was only making matters worse.

Damien tugged his hand out of yours, about to say something, when he felt something land on his hand. His irritation shifted to confusion as he looked up. You did the same in time for something small to land on your face.

Suddenly, the heavens opened as snow began to flutter down on top of you both.

You found the abrupt interruption startled you out of the surging bad mood. But it wasn't just you who reached that conclusion.

Damien laughed. He was giddy, reclaiming your hand and yanking you into a tight hug.

"Oh, why am I quarrelling with you about this? I know you're thinking about my wellbeing in all of this. I'm sorry."

You pulled back just far enough to look at him and ask whether the offer of a hot drink was still there. You couldn't possibly go home when you were so cold!

A playful smile pulled on his lips as he pulled off his scarf and wrapped it around you.

"For you? The offer will always be there. And when I am finally move away from my parents, I'll buy you a hot drink any time you like. That's a promise."

[stesierra]

Sorry to disappear, guys. Things have been crazy over here. But I am surviving! My brain is just mush. So here's a tag game to get me back to thinking about my WIPs.

@fishythewriter tagged me!

My words are: Bone, Soul, Knife, and Blood. I'm drawing from Court Phoenix. I'm tagging @macabremoons and anyone else interested with the words moon, frail and death.

Bone

Chujulan’s hands settled on my shoulders. “Kerra? What’s wrong?”

“I saw a ghost,” I croaked. Our shaman had warned us often of these daylight demons. They had no power to possess or hurt at night, but by day they were a constant threat. When she was alive, she’d prevented such dangerous spirits from entering our lands. Now that she was dead, my village lay vulnerable. And I had no protections from them at all.

The princess’s grip turned painful, her nails digging through my shirt. “Impossible. Ghosts aren’t real.”

“The city doesn’t believe in ghosts?” How stupid were they?

She snorted. “The others are obsessed with them. But I refuse to hide myself from the sun or cower behind the city’s wards because of them.”

Was that why the city-folk always visited our village at night? Because they were afraid of encountering ghosts?

“And if ghosts exist, why did I see nothing?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But the sun had half-blinded me, and in those blind spots, it appeared.”

"You saw a ghost in after-images of the sun?"

Her doubt irked me. “The dead don't have bodies. If they want to make themselves known, they have to make do with whatever nature provides, unless they possess a human or animal. That's what our shaman said.”

Her hands released my shoulders. “Maybe. I don't know much about loose spirits.”

“Why not?”

“The city is warded. Nothing without a body can exist there. Nothing possessed can walk through.”

I nodded. It wasn't dissimilar to what our shamans did. At home those wards were caught up in little bundles of bird bones or in blessings written in the corners of our paper windows. “But don't you all tell stories about them? About wandering spirits and lost souls?”

“The only tales we tell of ghosts are warnings. The only wanderers we care about are those who wander for a reason.”

“A reason?”

“Revenge.”

Soul

I went to bed, but it didn’t help. Whenever I was awake, my head and muscles tormented me, as though both were about to crumble to pieces like rotted wood, and my heart fluttered in my chest, too weak and too fast. When I dreamed, it was of my village on the other side of a great chasm, grayed to a ghost by smoke. I moved away from it, as if I stood on the walking city’s edge as it roamed across the steppe. I couldn’t jump off or run to it. I could only watch it vanish in the distance. And I woke with tears in my eyes and a horrible emptiness in my soul. My father’s words echoed in my mind: “If you move to Skyfire, the city will sink its barbs into your soul. Your anchor will be torn from the earth. And you’ll fade to nothing and die.”

I tried to tell myself this was just some disease common to the city folk. But as I burrowed under my blankets, I knew it wasn’t. I didn’t get sick, not like my non-magical siblings, and I’d never felt so empty. Maybe my father was right; maybe I was dying, and by now I was so far from my village I would never find my way back. And I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to live here with Hes, wanted to rise to become someone important the way a blacksmith never would.

Knife

Chujulan frowned. “Go to bed,” she advised. “You look like shit.”

“What do you care?” I muttered, too sick to care about manners.

She cocked her head at me. “You remind me of someone.”

Something about her tone made me look up. I couldn’t read the expression on her face. “Who?”

She didn’t answer for a minute. Then she said softly, “Her name was Cherin. In our ancient tongue, it means 'long-life' and is given to bring good fortune.” Her lips twisted in a not-smile.

“I take it she got neither.”

“No,” Chujulan said. “She died on the surgeon's table. She was only fifteen. And just starting her menses, although it was late.”

“Was she another landbound?” I asked, still bewildered by her interest.

“She was my only full-blooded sibling.”

“Oh. I'm sorry.” What else was there to say? “Why did she have to go under the knife?”

Chujulan's brows lifted. “She had her menses.”

I tried, “And that made her... sick?”

Her humorless laugh jabbed like a needle. “You’re so ignorant, Kerra. You’ll never survive in this city if you don’t learn.”

My face flushed hot. “Then tell me what you mean. How else am I supposed to learn anything?”

Her smile bent in all the wrong ways. “Listen to the gossip. You’ll find it anywhere. The day-wakers love to talk about us. Almost as much as the lordly.”

“You mean about the rials?”

“Who else? To speak lightly of sagan or regalie is to court ruin. But what are his bastards but dogs on a leash?”

“I am pretty sure you could have most of them killed.”

“Not lightly, not citizens, not unless I wanted to justify it to my father's judge and risk my high position at his side. So they watch and talk. And if a rial, upon reaching puberty, is plied with drugs and liquor and carried away, they place bets on whether she will ever return.”

I was fascinated despite my headache. “You came back.”

“Yes, because I didn't die.”

“Where did they take you?”

She shrugged, a hand running across iron chair beneath her. “To the surgeons, as I said. It's a safe procedure for boys — the city has made eunuchs for as long as it's castrated deer bulls. But we women they must cut open and gut like a rabbit, pulling out the bits they don't like. When Cherin,” she said and paused. “When my sister went under the knife, she died before they even stitched her back up.”

It was a nightmare story, and one I simply could not comprehend. I whispered, “Which bits did they take?”

“The womb. The tissues associated with it. Everything needed to bear a child.”

"Why?" I blurted.

“As long as we are sterile, we cannot seek to claim the herd throne. No one would back a contender without hope of heirs.”

“They think you'll try to rule otherwise?”

“The sagans have always feared a coup, sometimes even rightly. So they have seen that no rial will ever spark a civil war, nor serve as a lordly's figurehead.”

Blood

“The Ferd-Marshal sent you a note,” the girl said as I inspected the garment. She held out a sheet of paper.

What in the world was a Ferd-Marshal? I put the outfit down on the pile and said, “I can’t read.”

She stared at me, as though I’d declared that I could fly. I refused to be embarrassed. I was a villager, not a city-woman, and we didn’t write things down.

She said finally, “I’ll read it to you.” The girl smoothed her fingers over the paper.

“Kerra,

This should be delivered with your new outfits. They’re fireproof, so Heslibra shouldn’t be able to turn you into a torch any longer. Wear them every day and forget your old clothes. This is your costume now. Clothes and makeup are a language you’ll need to learn to read. Lying about your status by wearing the wrong outfit or eyeliner is a capital crime. So stick with what I’ve sent you.

If the Breaker of Legends summons you — and he will — tell him the sagan says you answer to Batoktoa directly and not to him. He’s insufferable.”

Chujulan had written this. She must have. So she was the Ferd-Marshal, whatever that meant.

The girl folded up the note and dropped it on my table, as if I had any use for it. As she turned to leave, I blurted, “Can you arrange for a new mattress and blankets to be brought here? I don’t know who else to ask.”

She frowned at me. “What’s wrong with the ones you already have?”

I choked on words for a moment. “They’re covered with blood! Someone died in that bed, and I’m not sleeping on it!”

“Oh,” she said, looking at the door to the bedroom with wide eyes. “I thought they cleaned that up.”

“Well, they didn’t, whoever they are. Can you arrange for a bed or not?”

The girl pursed her lips. “I suppose. Something will arrive before morning.”

Before morning, because the city-folk stayed awake all night and slept all day. This place was clearly mad.

Tag list for everything

@anonymousfoz

@moremysteriesthantragedies

@elizababie

@sm-writes-chaos

@bellascarousel

@palebdot

@macabremoons

@the-dragon-chronicler

@teacupsandstarlight

@vorskra

@wrenofthewords

@amostdelectablescribbler

@savvy-minnow

@mysticstarlightduck

@phantommill

@gracewritesbooks

@aziz-reads

@owlsandwich

@symbioticsimplicity

@squarebracket-trick

@fishythewriter

@koala2all

@rmgrey-author

Just chapters and snippets

@da-na-hae

[lustrumlane]

Applebright's Rot

“We hear it in your hearts: Emerson Tiels.”

“The sound is dolorous, the painful ringing in your mind: ‘why?’”

The Emissaries begin their performance dutifully, bringing two of their hands together: they clasp one over the other and grip tightly before raising the shape between them.

Part I

“An apple is a sanctuary to that inside, the skin is a barrier to that which would eat. It will one day die, it must be eaten, but the skin does not want this; it exists to lose.”

They bring their other hands over the two joined, making two four and holding tighter.

”The skin outlived the tree and became too tough; the seeds inside could not grow, suffocated by the apple itself. So long as the meat was sweet, the seeds could not tell the rest was long dead. The skin became harder and harder to protect that which was soft.”

They turn their hands and push their fingers through the bottom two hands, twisting all four hands together.

“This seed met a worm who said: there is so much more, you should be a tree, not a seed. If you stay, you and this skin will rot together; you’ll all become nothing.”

“We do not understand the item itself, but the keys you have been given appear to be powerful things.”

They take their hands apart, leaving them touching at the fingertips, making an expanded, square-like shape with two of their hands as they turn to face the audience again.

“Using this key, the seed approached his captor. He sought his truth by force: with this key, he accessed the knowledge that lay deep in its mind: what are you hiding from me?”

“From this seed grew a poison tree; watered in fears, with tears.”

“And it grew both day and night, till it bore an apple bright.”

One Emissary turns to the other and takes them by the chest, grabbing their scarf and rocking them back and forth.

“This hurt was repaid again and again until the futility felt sickening; a thing cannot die by any meager means when caught in Lustrum’s web, so the machine would reappear again and again, greeting him over and over no matter what action was taken.”

Then, suddenly, they let go, letting the other fall away.

“Maddening, to be caught in another cycle. Do the days ever end?”

They regain their footing and step together again, facing one another.

“Something had to change. He became a tool again. Telling everything he knew to the machine, he was given a plan.”

“The programming was done in elegant script to give the tool all he needed: two locked rooms only he could pass between. If no one knew, he would be safe. It should have been perfect.”

Part II

Now one starts to walk while the other follows, a weaving sway to their movements.

“Meanwhile, the song-sick composite pursued that annoying relict around the arcade, begging for sweet things he hardly cared to hear.”

“‘Anything, friend, anything; I’ll take whatever you have, just please let me have it, for it is what I am without what it is, and to live without is not to live!’”

“With a plan of his own, the relict agreed; but plans half-baked do not rise.”

One Emissary sweeps an arm out wide, the other’s arm low as they crouch.

“It draws a path of violence and panic, it seeks the familiar and finds the foreign, danger around every corner!”

“It’s only solace is in the tool’s machine, who, on hearing such horrible chaos, knows its own plan has been compromised: if this thing is here, it cannot be there, thus, the arcade’s doors cannot lock as they should, such as we’ve already programmed it to.”

“Such a simple error. The thought of its tool being seen and caught unaware in the act could not be abided, so it formed a new plan to patch this hole.”

“The composite was filled with not one but two, and the two repaired his tools of violence. Before the machine could properly take control, a bysander wandered in; and you know how this goes, and you’re familiar with the song.”

One Emissary points at the other, making a swinging motion with their arm, and the other kneels quickly, leaning back. The one standing turns away, and the one on the ground rises to step around them and they join hands again.

“Retreat to safety, to the arcade, to the familiar: the machine and relict are in agreement on the destination.”

“Here, they find an accomplice for a crime uncommitted, and more importantly, a place to dispose of the stubborn program that would not leave.”

“The automaton listened to the panicked thing’s cries and held it in its palms, it told it not to worry: it would protect it in itself, it would protect it from it all.”

“A savior, a bulwark, a light in the dark to this haggard lemming. ‘I would make them cut through me before they can consider hurting you’ it says as the worm is placed in its own skull.”

“Genuine, truly, this compassion was real; moreso, a convenient thing for the other machine, who removed the spells placed on the composite and exited the arcade to patrol, ensuring no one would step inside and interrupt its tool’s plan.”

Part III

The Emissaries walk in a circle, matching one another.

“All this time, the plan had been afoot. With his peers, the tool had entered the arcade with everything he needed. He knew which test must be chosen for the separation, all had been made clear thanks to the test operator’s knowledge.”

Then, they stand back to back, one holding their hands in front of their face.

“They step in as one and the machine’s tool is left alone in the console room. He knew, so long as he stayed quiet and sweet, the real operator would have no reason to look; so much became clear to him when he saw her files laid out.”

“Using the sleeping copy of the test operator, he was able to exit: acting as her, he has full permissions to do as he wanted. This is the privilege of an administrator.”

“He sets a standard for practice and connects the phone to the console, plumbing the sleeping copy of the test operator’s mind for answers. She would know what comes next, for the answers do not change.”

“This is the moment in which the music was heard, that of the arcade: the small thing on the phone heard, but could not see, she could not act, she had been disabled down to nearly nothing.”

“All she knew was something was wrong. Nothing to be done. The door closed behind him, for he only used her credentials to open it for a moment.”

They separate and walk in a circle again, the opposite way now.

“Who was Uroro Zenzen?”

“A coveted moppet, an effigy of power. He thought himself a hurricane when he was only the rain.”

“Raw and tempestuous, wild and natural; nothing without the wind, nothing without guidance.”

“Left alone for a final time, he stood alone: it was a targeting of convenience. His nature was not known, not truly, for a tool struggles with nothing more than that it is not made for.”

“A drug transformed, seaweed slipped into a snack. An ordinary man would have fallen into a peaceful slumber, but this one woke to a terrible nightmare.”

One Emissary grabs the other and spins them around a few times before tossing them roughly to the ground, causing them to roll before catching themself.

“Cruel, violent; now this is fear, now this is rage. He saw the tool, he lashed out: this story would have ended differently should this have continued.”

“The machine saw this from its post and could not stand by. Mercilessly, the monster was taken down, for this could not be a human, no.”

“Could any of you be, when by every logical process, you have been dead for years and years and years? Deaths calculated or even recorded? Only one man is truly alive: all else is nothing to this machine.”

The one on the ground rights itself and hops towards the other, stepping behind them with a spin before taking their neck and putting their hands around it.

“Intercession. This monster continues to fight until the last, but the machine tips the tides. Lucky, with a nearby mallet, he is finished.”

One’s head falls to the side. Then, they step apart and walk opposite ways.

“The tool uses his bracelet, with the administrative credentials copied onto it, to re-enter: this causes an error, as this device is not recognized. He does not realize this, but the door remains open.”

“The machine exits and runs to the House of Refulgences to return to its cage before it's caught: it does not make it. It hides in the composite as quiet as one can be.”

“And a guest is invited into Uroro Zenzen who answers, rising to his feet to pursue the tool. Damaged, he only enters the room as the others enter the victor’s hall, the killer escapes.”

“He knows discovery is near, he knows we will remove him, he knows he should not be here, so he performs a rite to seal himself in this corpse so that we cannot send him away.”

“Petulant.”

“Thus, here we are.”

The pair then stop, releasing one another and standing side by side.

“This is how it happened. We give you this truth.”

“Your judgement is correct. Emerson Tiels did the deed.”

[arealdisappointment]

Ay yo, you know what I love about Tumblr the fact that you can just do stuff and I'm bored it's 1am and I'm losing my marbles cuz my parents didn't pay for therapy, take some stuff from the note I have saved in my phone called don't trust your mind past 9pm

(all of these are separate)

I think my whole purpose in life is to hate myself, i was made out of a false sense of love and how can you love something thats not real, something made out of lies? It has come time again that i try to reinvent myself because the only thing that consumes my every waking thought is that i hate myself and i will continue to hate myself until i can find a version of me that is worth love. The version of me that is worthwhile the version of me that is enough for you. And while it drives me insane it is the only thing that allows me to keep my sanity.

I miss my mom, and whats so heartbreaking is the fact that i look nothing like her in my day to day life. There is very little reflection of the woman who made me in myself. But over time I've noticed one thing, when i cry and when i am at my lowest i see her in my reflection. I see it in the way my eyes gloss over with unshed tears and the way my mouth curves in a frown as i try desperately to keep my voice from breaking. I see her so clearly im the way my brows furrow together in anger at how unfair the word is. I see it in the way my dimples come out of hiding, and the way the edges of my face soften. I see her when i am in pain and when my anguish and anger are no longer contained inside me, the way i assume she existed because despite the fact that she is my mother, i know next to nothing about her.

There is something so pathetic in the sense of desperately wanting, needing, begging to be loved and admired and wanting to love yourself. How is it that I've hated every aspect of myself since early childhood. I guess ive always known that I'd never amount even a fraction of what my peers were like.I haven't been able to look at myself in the mirror since i was a toddler . I am like an ugly beast trying to fool the world into believing that im just like them, trying to fool them into thinking that i am socially acceptable. No matter how much makeup you put on a pig it'll still be ugly. Theres nothing more that i want than to be loved, wanted, desired. I wish there was someone out there who could look at me and want me. In any way shape or form i wish to be loved. I crave validation like it's my only source of life, it fuels me but in a sick twisted way i will never be good enough for anyone. I sit desperate on my knees in front of god begging to be loved, to see the image that i was made in, to believe that im worth it. Every small mistake i make chips away at the armor ive so carefully crafted until the doubt and self loathing have infected me, till the belief that im worthless crawls under my skin and infrcts my very being. My mind corrupted with the idea of dying, if i cant find my worth here whats stopping me from looking on other planes.

"I wish there was someone in my life who I could lean on and tell me it's going to be okay and explain grief to me and walk me through it and hell even just let me cry and express my anguish and this pain that consumes every fiber of my being. Instead I am forced to listen to the sorrows of everyone around me. Forced to comfort those who only ignore my pain. I want my pain to be recognized too, does that make me selfish ? Am I a bad person for wanting to express my pain too? How much do I have to hurt in order to be seen. When will I ever be enough. Am I just meant to bottle everything up and let it eat me from the inside out. Why is it that no one is there for me the way I am there for them. What did I do so wrong in a past life to be forced to suffer alone and yet be surrounded by people"

[g-hua]

I haven't been around for a while... I feel a little bad about that, even if I only write here for myself and the only person who knows my blog is my boyfriend...

A lot happened last week... I finally got the call from the mental hospital to start CBT. My foster mom finally decided to move the behemoth of a closet that took up most of my room and made it really hard to move stuff around and clean properly... I started CBT today because I got on the wrong bus last week and was an hour late...

(It's almost like... I have some sort of... Attention deficit of some kind... Huh, I wonder what that's about.)

(Yes, I'm still very salty over only being diagnosed as AuDHD as an adult. You have no idea...)

I meant I sort of started CBT? Today was mostly to like... Get to know the staff and who else is here for group stuff and for them to start taking notes on why my life is so effed and how it got this way? There isn't a lot going on on Mondays, I think?

I went over the schedule they gave me... Being here feels a lot like when I was here for a week after asking to be put on a psychiatric hold voluntarily. But, they let us keep our electronics, and we can go outside, and we don't have to sleep here. So uh... Better!

There is therapeutic stuff we do on other days of the week, but on Mondays and during hours without the therapeutic activities, we can use the mental hospital's facilities , which is really kind of them. I don't think I'll use their pool due to dysphoria, but I might use the gym? I'm really out of shape due to being at home and isolated for so long... I don't like that. It makes me feel bad when I get tired after doing just a bit of cleaning or when I can't move or pick up heavier things... So I might as well ask for help with that too, so that then I can keep up at home after they say I can leave from here.

Which uh... Won't be for a while, probably... minimum 3 months, but with how badly I am mentally at the moment, it will be at least 6 months...

At least I'm able to get here... If I wasn't medicated properly, finally, it would have been so much harder... I would be so tired from all the SSRIs they used to put me on and anxiety medication... It was so hard to stay awake... I felt nausea all the time... It was so exhausting to exist...

The doctors who refused me when I asked for a neurological assessment act like I have no reason to be upset that they put me through this for so long and refused to diagnose me properly... Like I'm irrational for being upset, and they did nothing wrong... I lost years and years of my life because of them... I missed out on opportunities that I will never have again... I have every right to be upset...

I already told the psychiatrist to pound sand. The psychiatrist who diagnosed me as AuDHD sent him a letter, and at first, he even refused to read it. He kept denying that I was AuDHD, kept standing by his diagnosis of anxiety and depression, kept trying to make it about how I was angry at the wrong person and how he was there to help people... He tried to give me a very outdated paper with really outdated questions for an ADHD diagnosis for an AMAB child... The same questions he made years ago when I asked for a neurological assessment...

He was basically trying to overturn the diagnosis... He was trying to take away my medication and my access to CBT out of his own sick and twisted sense of pride... He was trying to punish me for going to a different psychiatrist who proved him wrong...

I don't have the money to sue him... And suing a doctor here is unbelievably hard... You only see it happen when the doctor killed several people due to gross negligence, and there are enough family members to actually move forward with the lawsuit... So amist the doctors that become doctors to help people and save lives, you sadly have far too many of these narcissistic parasites with God complexes... It's an actual health risk to not get a second opinion...

But... Yeah... For now, I'm waiting to be assigned a different psychiatrist at a different health centre because I couldn't stand it anymore... Years and years of being told I had something I don't and being put on more and more extremely heavy medication... The final straw was when I finally found proper help to see him act like me trying to save my own life was somehow an offence to his grandeur...

I better stop here... I'll just get upset... The only thing that matters now is holding on to the help I finally managed to get and focus on getting better.

[merrinpippy]

thoughts on "the tear" from my commute:

i'm actually glad arthur's thinking of cauterising the wound bc i've also been thinking that

ruh roh baby tired

oh shit this has all been one day in canon. jesus

clark gable haircut okay now this we know about arthur. man likes his pomade i guess :p

john trying to convince arthur to sleep? can't tell whether he's being kind or has an ulterior motive at this point. oh is he trying to convince arthur to sacrifice oscar. ... yeah that's what's happening

nooooo oscar isn't done for I refuse to believe this.

"allow yourself to rest" ;-; i know he has an ulterior motive but baby...

noo I want arthur to sacrifice himself instead of oscar for the aaaangst

"he's served his purpose" okay now who's sounding callous?? D:

oh what's Arthur doing. yess good arthur finding another way ily. he's so smart and good and loyal<333

yessss arthur keep the stone with you i love you for your perseverance

oh ow where did he drop

"i am so sick of being treated like i don't exist" "am i so fucking incidental to you" johnnnnn babyyyyy

"because of what i'll learn" "i can't bear the thought that you've tricked me" ohhhhh arthur im cryyy

"i moved it from where you said to hit" "you aimed too high" GODD arthur and john... arthur's so terrified to be right

yeah i also thought that john was trying to waste time i just can't fathom why!! i'm so glad arthur sees it

he's so desperate to believe in john despite all the evidence. cries so hard

sidenote i want to learn these pieces of music on the piano so bad

(hm all these things are dice rolls-- maybe john has a condition that gives him a negative modifier? if we're accepting more gamey reasons why john is not noticing things idk)

HE SAW THE KEYS?

"you think I haven't [changed]--" :((((((

"ive been failing you" cries ohhh arthur is hitting certain nails on the head and recognising his own responsibility/culpability for john and yellows morality :(((((((((( and the pressure of referring to john as his conscienceee

"is it me that's causing you to fail? is it my lack of trust?" CRY

"what do you care about then?" "you!!"

can we find out what deal john made nowwwww?? argh they left it after dangling it precariously over our heads. i want to know why john cares so much about this cult!

ohhhh arthur agreeing to leave oscar alone to placate john you are so very codependent and i love it....

omg john being jealous is literally canonicalllllll i was fucking joking! i didn't think they'd have the guts to actually go there! i love that they're actually sitting down and talking about this and trying to fix it

john wanting to change<333

okay so john choosing not to see certain things was a choice but the portrait thing suggests that the memory problems are real

i like that the place is 'fused with another world' interesting concept and implications. lovely descriptions from john

oh ewww never mind did you have to say mucus

a hidden vault!!

saruman voice they delved too greedily and too deep...

ooh identity theft! twists and turns! omg what is this bitch doing, establishing a gateway?? why??? so strange and cool i want to knowww

love the lore about vowel elongation in ritual casting

what domain does he want to reach tho?? OH lovely imagery of the knife and wound, blood and clots etc! big fan!

oh shit contingency plan from ritual guy! he's not just a stupid cultist npc! repair the tear to eliminate the worms! so he's locating the realm of the gods??

failsafe sigil to trap the gods! cool! okay at least he's attempting to be somewhat safe even if it fucked up! why the fuck does he Want to open the gateway then??

the eye of the gods? meet their gaze?

i too wish to know scratch's true intentions

"a character it's playing" OH????? the thick plottens!

maybe scratch has been here so long he's gotten too into character/forgot he was anyone else

oh ay john has the same idea!! we r so smart

i actually think John has a point about the stone

oh John is so moved by Arthur agreeing with him ;-;

God they're so committed to each other i am eating it up with a shovel

omg ritual okay no time for speaking-- the barn is alive?? oh the description is so cool

oh shit that's. Bad. but inevitable. oh hello who's coming through! oh it's scratch of course

staring like a lost child aww

AAWWwww I'm almost sad about scratch

woman cackling? oh that was a fun explosion sound. a laaaaaady villain!! or genderfreak or whatever the fuck they're an elder god or some shit so gender doesn't really apply the same way

And john is still having memory problems so that's for sure not him lying. well about this anyway

"it looked like she was free" oh dear oh shit oh fuck!!! they set her free oh dear this is uh. they're gonna have such guilt complexes about this

but it was too easy, they did notice earlier that it felt too easy

"oh for fuck sake!" @ the barricade lmfao

aw oscarrrrr

aw arthur can't stand to let oscar get more hurt because of him and also values john enough to sacrifice his frienship with oscar....

their goodbye is so saaaaaad ;-;;;;;;

[joyboythehopepunk]

Sorry I'm Sick, I Need to Go Home

Sometimes I think about her. The one who gave me HPV with a kiss. But that was my fault, right? For being so desperate. For wanting and not caring. I wanted to throw myself into our relationship with the same abandon I throw myself into anything I want/need.

Ugh. I'm disappointed in myself. For trying. For trying for someone who didn't deserve it. For putting myself out there, when I should've known better.

But it isn't just about getting sicker. I mean, STDs are a thing. They have been for a long time. And there have been many moments where I just.. didn't care. I smoked cigarettes, I drank til I blacked out.

Despite all of my faults (which aren't so extreme or numerous) I still love myself. I love myself enough to know I should be loved by others. But I'm not.

Maybe because I am too intense. Or too sincere. Or too weird. Maybe because I'm sick in a way people don't understand.

The double empathy problem... has always been an issue in my life.

I think people think of me as if I'm normal. So whatever I do or say.. they attribute it to the same sort of things they EXPECT from someone like me. But they don't get me at all.

They think I want reassurance because I'm being manipulative. But I'm insecure. And if they know it is because I'm insecure, they think it's because I'm insecure about being trans not.. you know. Being a person who can't connect with other people.. Because THEY'RE being weird about the fact my existence is just different than theirs.

Does it make sense? People see me as an attractive and masculine man up until they find out I'm trans. Then they think it is an act. Except I've always been like THIS. Just masculine. It was never something I worked at. Masculinity is something I tried to understand intellectually after I transitioned. But what I found wasn't particularly worth emulating. If only because.. I know toxicity when I see it. I know how good characteristics and ideas can be bent and twisted for fucked up means.

And people think I'm like that.. because I'm attractive. They think my charm is a way to get my way. When I'm really just being polite.

They think me identifying as autistic is the same. But I'm for real just neurodivergent af. Autism and cptsd are the only things that make all the sense.

I've been alone my whole life. People think it is because something is wrong with me. That I deserve to be alone.

But I don't. And there's less wrong with me than most people I've met.

Which is why I'm sick. I'm sick of being here on this planet. I'm sick of dealing with the bullshit that comes with it. I don't really want to die. I just don't want to be here, dealing with this nonsense wrought by the dumbassery of a species I feel only vaguely evolved from.

I feel like I'm a different species of human. That sees and experiences and exists differently. But I've had a really really hard and fucked up time on Earth.

And I'm ready to leave. Just me, my cats, and my stuff.

Not like anyone would care.

[thornstocutyouwith]

Sage smirked at the males ignoring her "Fuck you, too. Do what you always do. It's your best skill so far." She hissed toward him "I don't know why Asher still wants to fucking be around you! You worthless piece of shit! You couldn't even be there, any time you needed him! You ruined my fucking family! You sick perverted bastard!" Sage lashed out before looking at Darla as she was talking "Shut the fuck up!" She snapped at her too "You don't know what all he's done! You think this is just between him and I? This fucking piece of shit has a longer track record than I have even fucking existed. He belongs in a cell here, too!"

Pulling away from the bars she laughs a bit under breath, pacing casually then " Who the fuck wants to believe anything you say? You're a manipulator! You tried to take people from others, steal the places of others. Who fucking could trust you? No one! Except for my stupid father, that's why half his fucking kingdom is now in the hands of that fucking stray bitch who had no right to it!" Sage snapped, glaring toward the two "You didn't stop that! Did you! You would give it all away. IT BELONGS TO ME! ALL OF IT! Where is he?! Bring him here!"

Turning her attention back to Darla then, she listened to her, squinting, anger still rising in her, her hair prickling up as she tried using her powers on the both of them, but it was blocked. She would break out of here though, she had to keep telling herself that. As Darla was talking to Darius, she glanced away, half rolling her eyes at the display "Who is this bitch?" She then asked, giving a half disgusted look. This woman had her mothers face, but was certainly nothing like Asher had described to her while she was growing up "Darius has always been this way. He would come around and ruin my fathers mood with his dramatics. The only time he stayed was when he was to use someone he supposedly loves! Fuck you." She spat at Darius then "You don't love anyone but your fucking self! Someone had to end it!" Laughing she went back to circling the cell a little bit.

"Yeah. Who are you. No one to me, besides someone with another person face." Glaring, she was growing more irritated with all of this. Sage twist her hands around in the cuffs around her hands "That, is not my father. My father is Asher Diamond, no other man." Turning her head sharply to look at Darius as he was talking "Shut your fucking mouth, Darius! Everything you say is a god damn lie!" Even if it were the truth, the other had done a lot of damage in going so far as to treat her like she hadn't even existed, or like she was some little monster if he had, which was even less often.

"My mother would have loved me, Asher said she was good. But he's also a fucking liar! He fell in love with you and no one could get as close to him as you. Only for you to hurt him. I am sick of you existing!" She grabbed the bars "I don't give a shit about the Egyptian Prince or how Julian was created." Sage held onto the bars burying her gaze into Darius' own "That stupid fucking rabbit made the same mistakes, which is hilarious, considering the rivalry between you and him, hm? Not only did you ruin my family, but apparently that half-breeds as well!"

Following Darius' gaze back toward Darla she sneered "Stop fucking looking at each other like that. God. If what you are saying is even remotely true. I'm already tired of this family drama." Sage grumbled then rolled her eyes "I don't care, Darius. I can assure you. Considering any of this is true. Why the fuck should I care about any of that? You clearly didn't want it when I was born, the fuck would you want any kind of coming to revelation moment now?!" Sage tilt her head, giving Darius a confused look "You should have considered that when you fucked off when I was born." Looking to Darla then as she was approaching she raised her head when Darla knelt "Of course I am important, because my father is the true King of the Diamond Kingdom and I will one day be it's Queen!"

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You are going to walk into all of this, and play mother hen to us? Fix what that idiot broke? What's he going to do? Just relinquish that onto you? Wash his hands of it now that you're here." Sage looked away, then over toward Darius "You're just being used by him, like everyone else is. Another pawn on his chess board. This fucker has no ounces of responsibility. Not for what he did to his former best friend. Not for what he did to that Egyptian! Not for what he did to someone he supposedly loves. Not for what he did to me, supposedly. --And now-"

She crouched down in front of Darla, staring directly into the woman's eyes now "And not for you having to take on the onus of his behavior toward everyone who has ever been important in his life. If he wanted to change for anyone, he could have, but he let that person die, and along with him, any way back to being a good man. Darius will always be bad, and so will I. And you cannot fix that, no matter how much love you pour into either of us."

Sage leaned in toward the other then "Asher tried, and all he got was abandoned with his killer, even when Asher told Darius about my acting out- for years. He just…had to go… He had other things to do at the time, he watched it destroy Asher, year after year, and it did destroy my father watching Darius go, each time. So I gave him the mercy of death to free him from the burden of the life he was living, so that a true ruler could rise."

==

Darius had seemed unaffected by the insults that had left his daughter's tongue. His face almost completely void of emotion, almost a blank slate as it were. Darla's, face, however, wasn't. Darla had looked completely horrified.

"Darius, what the hell did you to this girl to make her hold such hatred and bitterness in her heart? Did you really tell me everything? Did you even tell her?"

"I tried. She wouldn't believe me."

"Then try again."

A heavy sigh left his lips then, to him it was just a waste of his breath but as his twin sister glared at him he rolled his eyes and mumbled fine underneath his breath.

"Sage. You were born out of very powerful Wonderlandian magic. A curse. Maybe the fact it was a curse in the first place that made you this way."

"Stop right there, brother, you don't get the right to tell her what made her the way she is. You don't get to blame a curse, you are a part of the reason she has this bitterness. From what you told me, maybe that is the problem. You haven't treated her like your daughter, you have treated her as an inconvenience - just like our parents treated you."

Oh this was just great. His own sister giving him a psychology 101 lecture. But still, there were things that Sage didn't know, but if he told her now, would it really change anything?

"She doesn't know who I am, does she? You only found out yourself recently so how do you expect her to understand? Tell her Darius. She is your daughter. She has a right to know."

Another heavy sigh, Darius had been doing that a lot lately. "Fine. It was magic that had turned me into a woman so that you could be born, neither myself or your father realized at the time that the face I was given had been with an even deeper intention. You were told that your mother had died not because she actually did, but because the magic that had turned me into a woman had faded. Maybe we should have told you the truth from the beginning, but at the time we--- I foolishly thought saying your mother had died would have been easier for you to grasp that the truth it was actually me who had carried you and birthed you. The blood that runs through your veins is mine, Sage, mine and Asher's. Julian was conceived the same way except it was Seti that was turned into a woman, just like I was."

Darius had looked at Darla, strangely that part was easier for him to tell her than what was going to come next.

"This woman beside me, her name is Darla and she is my twin sister. Your aunt, by blood. To make an even longer story short, we were both born in Wonderland. Our parents were not good people. They decided they didn't want a boy so they left me here in Wonderland, dismissing my existence as an inconvenience and they took Darla with them to the oyster world. Darla found her way back to Wonderland after they died in that other world. Imagine my bloody shock to be looking at the face I had taken when I had given birth to you, Sage, I --- Darla, stay away from her!"

Darius's sudden warning had come when Darla had closed the distance between her and Sage, kneeling down in front of her.

"It is unfair. What has been done to you, the damage, it can never be undone. How you were treated, what you had to endure. It was wrong. You are Darius's daughter, you are important. You are family, Sage and I want to know you. Nobody expects you to forgive and forget but this hatred you hold, the hate that makes you hurt others, I don't think this is who you really are. And even if it is who YOU think you really are I'm telling you, it doesn't have to be. I want to know you. I want to know everything about you. I want to give you the love you have never had, but you have always deserved. If you will let me, I want to be a part of your life."

[bluewinnerangel]

Since it’s almost time for FITF, lemme hype you up with the list of possible lyrics from shady anons, most are from about 6-7 weeks ago now, in the inboxes of (I hope I don’t forget anyone) @ladychlo @usignedupforthis @lovingstheantidote @perksofbeingasunflowerblog @awesomefringey @princeofyorkshire @the-casual-fangirl. Some of these are absolutely trolling but yeah whatever its fun and we’re gonna know which ones of these were true in a few days anyway:

i held you tight as the stars faded x

looking through the mirror, you're the only one who's left behind x

cuz now i know angels existed x

i sat comfortably in your presence after you told me you were leaving, will we meet again? will i ever see your face again? x

if angels dont fly how can i be at peace? are you watching over me ? do you care? no one is answering me and youre not here x

And if you say you're already done playing your silly little games then maybe we can talk maybe we can talk x

And if you're told the game is over, and you can't go back to your lover x

and when it's time to face the music you're not the one to get hurt, if i hit the ground i get stronger but you've never been down here x

good and bad and right and wrong are stories they made up when we were young x

i dont want to face (or fake?) The music but i still want to dance with you x

Maybe they were right, when they said we were too young x

There's no need for explenation, it won't help your reputation, you're all alone and that's on you, after the years we both've been through x

there’s a mirror in my head and all i see is shame x

If you became like Allie/I'll stay same/give you the world/kiss you when it rains x

my love for you was blue, I left so many clue, but you never thought straight and you walked away, leaving everything I gave you to rot away x

when you cut your hair I know you lost a part of yourself/ you're always are my girl, guess I was too blind to see x

why do you say you hate me,when we both know you like pretending. don't give up on me baby, the play will soon be ending x

You kept all of my tracksuits; 'cause it hugs you too well; if the world could only knew; how your beauty makes my heart swell x

I love the way you wear your hair, spreading your style everywhere. x

When I felt you inside of me/I saw the future laid out bare/I knew I’d lose this love soon/I knew I’d lose this love/We walked all around Chicago/Late nights at the pub times two/Saw the snow cling tight to our coats/I wanted to keep you, wanted to be yours but/I knew I’d lose this love soon/I knew I’d lose this love x

not everything is equal as it seems ; but you have to be a pretender by all means ; they keep on breaking the shield that I created x

i can’t/won’t stop thinking of you, worrying what you’d think of me tonight x

I’ve been walking alone and I can’t stop thinking of you x

saturdays used to take the pain away x

saw someone wearing the same trainers you wore when you walked out the door x

she is beauty, we are world class, our power eternal x

we are the heroes of the orange skies/ embers rustling everytime we soar through the heights/she is beauty/we are world class x

was it the wrong shade of pink ; I know you hate red ; the mix signals you gave me ; keeps twisting the knife in my head. x

And if you’re one of us, you know how it feels x

and this whole damn world is sick can't stand it when you're not here with me x

And when you walk by and out of sight WhatAm I ‘spose to to see in soft lime lights x

had my apology engraved; my faith will never die this time x

i keep losing myself to who you think i am, a shadow standing there, a different shade of blue x

i know you hated it, and you're not alone, but you need to understand, it had to be done x

I know you think i’m mad at you, the truth is i could never be, i just miss you x

I miss your lipstick stains on my cigarette buds/I shouldn't have left when you pushed me away x

I wish someone had the courage to make you believe, that it’s fine to follow your heart even when it bleeds x

Stuck in a cage but I won’t stop till i set myself free x

the world we could make if you’d just turn the key, the fights we’d avoid if you give me an answer (bridge) x

they can see you're holding onto something, but you never let it go x

when u get what u want but not what u need it’s time to let it go, run away and leave x

when we shared a smoke on a stranded rooftop, made some plans to run away and leave this hurt behind x

you became someone new and I was confused ; am I loving someone else or a better version of you? x

you scrape your words from your throat/cause you don’t need them more then me anymore x

You think so many people are centric, but you, you are mostly egocentric x