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aranock · 3 months

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I'm tired.

Just sort of in general I am exhausted. I know I put on a brave face a lot, but the hate does get to me. The constant unceasing hatred both offline and online gets to me. I'm human idk what to say. Been thinking a lot about the Bilbo quote, I might be paraphrasing, "I feel like too little butter spread across too much toast."

It's pride month, I should be feeling happy right? I convocated finally after a brutal long degree I should be feeling happy right? I like how my body looks for the first time in my life shouldn't I feel happy?

And I know that's not helpful, that feelings are not a should thing. And yet I feel it anyway :/. Not that I do not feel happy, I would say on average I am better than I have been at any other point in my life. But it does get to me.

I was invited to dinner with a former family member, a blood relative that breached every boundary I placed and even went so far as to accost me in a public space. It's hard watching someone lose all love for you the more you become yourself. Being told I'm an embarrassment to my parents by creeps online stings a lot more now that I had a blood relative say it to my face while aggressively yanking my jacket so I couldn't get away. I know its a lie, I know that this person saying that hurt my parents as much as it did me. Alas, anxiety rarely responds to facts or evidence.

Everytime it feels like I'm fine and over it; this person manages to weasel their way around boundaries to fuck up my mental health for a week. And the thing about chronic illnesses like mine is they flare up quite horrendously when you get stressed and anxious. Anxiety means waking up to acid burnt throat from reflux.

It makes my voice dysphoric all day.

I think deep down one of my greatest fears is that I am unlovable, that everyone around me secretly hates me and is just waiting for the excuse to finally be rid of interacting with me. I am terrified that I am a burden. Mortified by the false belief that I am broken.

Despite how horrific my childhood adolescence and some of my early adulthood were, my family was at least a safe place. I recognize that I was privileged to have that. With that said I think the reason this whole thing has rocked me so much is that it violated that one last place I felt safe. It has made me doubt the love of those I never thought I would.

Sometimes transphobia feels like drowning, and if you try to swim for air everyone decides to shove you further down cause actually it's proof you are faking needing breath.

I text someone anytime I go run errands, just to make sure someone knows. Had too many experiences of hate. I get anxious when I go to get groceries; will this be the time I get hit by a vehicle driven by a far right transphobe, am I going to get called a slur again, will the store staff get suspicious of me and search through all my groceries to make sure I actually paid for it. But please, tell me how I don't know what its like to be oppressed. When men sexually harass, catcall, creepily hit on, follow me around clearly I am not at all experiencing sexism. Obviously the real worst thing in the world is that women "cancel" people on the internet, and trans people exist. Did they think sending me hateful articles would suddenly make me go "oh yes clearly its all in my head, please genocide my community, I stand for nothing and have the moral backbone of a slug."

I don't really know why I'm writing this, I dont usually feel or desire to express something like this publicly. I will probably delete it later. Maybe I disappear into writing cause its easier to deal with the feelings that way. That at least then someone gets something out of my pain. That maybe it helps to condense emotional mountains to the mole hills of short strokes of a pen or presses of a key. To let them explode outward in a flurry of thoughts and words that others look at and say "I too have felt this, you are not alone, you are not wrong for feeling this way."

Anything to take the weight of it all off my chest for a second.

Because I am tired.

I'm exhausted really.

I don't want to be brave or strong or resilient. It's tiring to bear the weight of that and a billion projections. Atlas does not bear the heavens upon his shoulders because he is strong or brave. He bears it because he has no other choice. Because people put it on him.

I just want to exist; that is apparently too much to ask for as a trans woman.

If you are concerned, please don't worry I'll be fine, I was fine every other time after all. This too shall pass. But right now it hurts.

And I have had my fill of hurt for many lifetimes.

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artaxerxesthegreat · 2 years

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Secrets and Trust

A/N: This is my first ‘song fic’, and boy was it a rollercoaster of emotions. Not sure why I wrote this, and I’ll probably delete it later, but for now I’ll share it with the masses. Please note, this is kind of sad and horribly written.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only, reader is the middle sibling of T'Challa and Shuri, Song fic [Lift me up], not alpha/beta read, angst, a lot of angst, sadness, so much sadness, in universe death, BPWF spoilers, non-gender specific, one curse word, mild gaslighting (?), alludes to drowning, implied smut, T’Challa might be OOC, K’uk’ulkan might be OOC, family hurt, slice of life (?), enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers. Again(?), I used the original script for some parts

A/N2: If I missed anything, just let me know. I usually write WOC fics, so this is my first non-gendered fic, I hope I did alright.

A/N3: All rights to Ryan Coogler and everyone that helped him make this wonderful movie. Song credit to Rihanna and co.

K'uk'ulkan/Namor x POC!Sibling!Reader

“No matter what happens, I will always be with you.”

That’s what my brother said— that’s what he’s said since the day I was born. A promise he has kept, no matter what.

Lift me up

Hold me down

“Come, jump in! I will catch you, I promise!”

His smile— bright, shining, radiant, warm… full of mischievousness.

“You are lying, T’Challa!” I shout back, a smile ever present on my face.

“Aye, what are you talking about? I would never, scout's honor.” He salutes me, standing up straight, but I just shake my head.

“You have never been a boy scout, T’Challa!”

The river we were swimming in was full of joy and laughter.

My heart never felt so full.

Keep me close

Safe and sound

“It’s okay, it’s alright.” My brother holds me closely as the realization of our Baba’s death finally takes its toll on me. I was so strong for so long, fighting the pain I felt— being the emotional rock for our baby sister, but seeing his sarcophagus being taken from us to the Hall of the Kings, sent me over the edge.

I cried for days.

Burning in a hopeless dream

Hold me when you go to sleep

Keep me in the warmth of your love

When you depart, keep me safe

Safe and sound

“Are you alright?” T’Challa’s soft voice breaks the silence that I’ve been trying to hide in. When I don’t answer him, he turns me over to look at him. Tears, still running down my face, tell him all he needs to know. Wrapping me in a tight hug, he lets me cry until I can’t cry anymore.

It feels like hours go by before I finally speak.

“Is it really true?” My voice is hoarse, tears dried on my face.

“… It is.” His voice is as soft as ever.

“And you are sure there is no cure?”

He doesn’t answer right away, only sighs, staring up at the ceiling as we lay side-by-side. That’s all I need to know, I can feel the tears beginning to form in my eyes again.

But I fight them, clearing my throat, I ask the question that tips the scales.

“And you want me to keep it a secret?”

Now he looks at me, sadness in his eyes, regret in his body language.

“It is wrong for me to put such a burden on you, but mother and Shuri are not ready for this. They will never rest to fight this illness, and I will not live the rest of my days in a bed. I am the Black Panther— and I will be the Black Panther until I cannot. My duty is to my country, my people, and my family. One little illness— curable or not— will not change that fact.”

My lip quivers, as a tear rolls by, wiping it away fiercely I ask, “How… how long?”

“About a year.”

The tears all but gushed out my eyes as I hugged him tightly, all the jokes we’ve made about him losing weight, being the skinniest Black Panther to have ever lived. Even about M’Baku using him as a toothpick after he is done eating his vegetables, all came rushing back as the news of his illness hits me twice over.

“I am so sorry, my brother.”

“What for?” He pulls back with a confused smile.

“All the insensitive jokes we’ve made. They were wrong, uncalled-for, and I am sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His smile— as bright as the sun, as calm as the sea.

“… We only have a year?”

“Yes.”

Nodding my head, I look at him with conviction, “Then let’s make the most of it.”

Lift me up

Hold me down

Keep me close

“You should be resting!” I hiss at him, but he just smiles, leading me to a small house.

“There will be plenty of time for that, but first you must meet someone— someone important to me.” Again with that warm smile, I simply smile back as we walk into this unknown house, “What does a man have to do around here to be welcomed?”

“T’Challa, what are you—” I start to chide my brother, when the sound of running feet and a child’s voice interrupt me.

“Baba!”

A small boy runs into my brother’s arms, hugging him tightly. Shocked, I simply stare at the two, and when they look at me… it’s the same smile, the same eyes, the same warmth.

“Oh… T’Challa.”

Safe and sound

…“You said, ‘no matter what happens, you’ll always be with me’… but I can’t feel you anymore, brother. Your warmth is gone, your family is lost without you, your mother and baby sister are full of regret and guilt because of your secret. Your smile is gone, your soul is gone, and I don’t know what to do. How am I supposed to go on, when you never told me what to do when you are gone?! How am I supposed to be strong?! That was you, I, I can’t do this on my own… I need help, T’Challa. Please, bring me a sign— a sign that tells me you are here with me, guiding and helping me. I beg you, brother, do not abandon me.”…

The cool night air hits me, making me shiver as my small fire has died down. I made my way to a secluded part of the river tribe, trying to understand why my brother did things the way he did; from keeping his illness a secret, to his son.

I know why, but… why?

Why have me keep all these secrets, why put that much faith and trust in me? Why leave me so soon? Why couldn’t we have more time?! Why was he taken from us?!

“WHY?!” My scream travels across the water, my knees give out as I sob on the shore.

Then there’s a sound.

Fluttering.

Bird wings…

“…what…” Looking up, I see the bird—well, it's not a bird. It’s a man… a man with wings on his ankles, “What…?”

I should be worried, I should be terrified, I should be calling for the Dora Milaje, but I don’t. I stare at this man, this otherworldly being, with confusion and wonder. Who is he? Where did he come from? — He’s wet, did he swim here? Is he a fish? —A fish with wings? Are there others like him? Is he alone? Why are his clothes so ancient looking?

Then he laughs.

Realization sets in, I’ve said all this out loud.

Embarrassment takes hold of me, I cast my eyes to the sand beneath me, “I am sorry, stranger.”

“You are not at fault, Querido.” (Dear one) His voice is a calm baritone, his eyes as dark as onyx, his smile… as radiant as the sun.

Awestruck, I simply stare up at his man. His smile widens, and I have to look away, remembering myself.

“I’m sorry.” Bashful, I cover my face.

“Again, you did nothing wrong.”

A sense of peace fills my spirit, one I haven’t felt in a long time; all thanks to this stranger, I finally feel safe.

Drowning in an endless sea

Take some time and stay with me

Keep me in the strength of your arms

Keep me safe

“Really?! Threats! That’s how you introduce yourself to my mother, are you crazy?!” My voice echoes off of the cave walls. I know full well that Attuma and Namora are standing right outside his hut, but I couldn't care less, “My mother, my sister– hell, even the council are losing their minds on what to do about you!”

He had been silent the whole time I was ranting— a good 5 minutes— but at the mention of the council, his eyes burn.

“My instructions were simple.” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it that angers me further, “This proves that Wakanda cannot be trusted.”

“Trust?!” My anger spills over, “How can you speak of trust when YOU threatened MY family, and my country?! How can you sit here, in your hidden little hut, painting your little pictures, living in your perfect little world when you barely give my family time to process the existence of a whole civilization living underwater?! You speak of trust, but show none— you haven’t given us a reason to trust you?!”

Not missing a bit, he replies, “Have I not trusted you? Did I not bring you here, to my people, my kingdom, my home— treated you with the utmost respect, deserving of a god, sheltered you when you needed an escape from your ‘home’? Tell me, In yakunaj.” (My love)

I see red, “This coming from the man who still has not told me his name.”

“I have told you—”

“—No,” I hold up my finger, stopping any more words from falling from his lips, “No, you told me what your people call you, what your enemies call, but never have you told me what your friends call you— what your mother called you.”

My voice grows soft towards the end, but where I’ve calmed down, he’s picked up; a blind man can see the anger in his face. I’ve stepped too far over the line, and the caves are quiet, too quiet. No one says anything, no one breathes too loudly. As time stretches on, it dawns on me that I was never meant to know his name.

Casting my eyes to the ground, I nod in understanding, walking to the hut opening. Looking over my shoulder, I hold my head up high, fighting tears.

“I’m sorry.”

This time, he didn’t forgive me, this time he didn’t stop me.

This time he didn’t save me.

Safe and sound

… Sirens, singing, floods, screams, pain, panic, death— all of it surrounds me, all of it chases me.

There is no escaping it.

No Black Panther.

No warriors.

No winged god to take me away.

Just fear, snaking round my throat, closing tightly around me until I can’t breathe.

Right when I think I’m going to pass out from the shock of it all, he shows up.

Still as breathtaking as the day I met him— still as deadly.

And his eyes.

Vengeance, revenge and… regret…?

My mother stands tall, Riri is scared, I… I don’t know what to feel.

… Water, screams, broken glass, cold water, no air… it’s too much

And yet.

Not enough…

… Opening my eyes, I cough, spitting out copious amounts of water. It burns so much, my eyes are stinging, my ears are ringing. I hear Shuri screaming, but I’m too dazed to process it; until my vision clears, landing on our mother.

“You did this!”

“It could have been different.”

“Bury your dead, mourn your losses. In one week’s time, I will return with my entire army.”

…

“Where are you, T’Challa?”

…

Lift me up

Hold me down

Keep me safe

Safe and sound

“Wakanda only needs one Black Panther, and you made it, Shuri.” My sister looks at me shocked, “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have this, you take it.”

“But… but how can I be… You are next in line.”

“And as the next in line, I am telling you to take the herb, take up the mantle of the Black Panther, protect our people because I cannot.” Fighting tears, I push the herb in her hands closer to her, “There is too much— too much you do not know, and I cannot with good conscience take this herb. Please, sister, do not make me take it.”

Shuri can see how difficult this is for me, and nods, assuring me that she will do her best.

“That is all I ask for, my dear sister.”

Burning in a hopeless dream

Hold me when you go to sleep

Keep me safe

We need light, we need love

The sound of the battlefield was all I could hear; that and the pumping of my blood in my ears. I’ve always known the Talokanil were skilled fighters, but never did I think I’d be fighting against them. Many I’ve clashed my blade with were friends of mine, but in war, there are none.

We are enemies… oh how I wish it were different. This is not how it should be.

Then my sister’s Sunbird comes by, her helmet is off, her stance is strong.

And next to her… is him.

“Talokan, retírar a! Volvamos tin wotoch. K ba'ate'lo' waye' ts'o'ok u beetik.” (Talokan, stand down! Let us return home. Our fight here is done.)

A feeling of relief washes over me, I look at my sister as she salutes us, “WAKANDA FOREVER!”

“WAKANDA FOREVER!!” We echo back victorious. Our enemies— no, our new allies make their way back home, and I’m left feeling empty. Their king is the last to leave, our eyes never meeting, words never exchanged. My sister knows something is wrong, even when we get back home.

Then I tell her.

I tell her everything.

From T’Challa’s secrets, to my affair with the underwater king.

She leaves… angry, confused, sad, and feeling very much alone.

I thought it best that I leave Wakanda for a bit, but where would I go? My life is here, and yet… it doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Nakia offered me a room in her house in Haiti, but I couldn’t go there, not while my sister is clearing her head there.

So I begin walking along the riverbank, I watch the sunset, feeling a rush of emotions— good and bad.

…“Brother…” My eyes are closed as I feel a breeze blow by, “Thank you. Thank you for your protection, your love, and for keeping your word… I was too focused on my anger and pain to realize that you were here the whole time. You have guided me, challenged me, and made me strong— stronger than I could ever imagine, and for that I thank you.”

Sitting down in the sand, I dig my toes in it, drawing nonsensical patterns, “My days seemed so grim and dark without you here, but I finally am starting to feel the sun again. It’s light, finally making these bones warm again… I do hope you forgive me for telling Shuri everything, she was less than pleased, and rightfully so. I wish you could have met… him, though. If you were here, there may not have been a war to begin with… I miss you, T’Challa, and I miss him.”

Bringing my knees to my chest, I cry.

I’ve been doing so much of that lately, it’s annoying, it makes me angry— it makes me feel weak.

And yet I cannot stop.

I’ve heard that crying is supposed to be therapeutic, that it makes you feel better afterward, but I only feel sad and foolish.

Only my brother wiping away my tears, telling me everything is going to be alright made me feel better, but he isn’t here anymore.

So I cry more.

“I-I know… I have to move on, I have to let you go but—” The warmth of the sun is gone, and back is the darkness that has had a hold on me creeps in, “I need help, I need strength… and forgiveness.”

…

“You have done nothing that requires forgiveness, Ch'ujuk.” (Sweet one)

My head snaps up at the voice, the voice I’ve heard more times than I should have. The voice that made me cry with laughter, and cry with anger and hate.

He sits next to me, staring out at the water; his clothes are that of a poor man, bandage on his foot from where my sister clipped him.

“My, how the mighty have fallen…” I couldn't help myself, and he doesn’t say anything. Just glances at me, giving me a weak laugh, “… I’m—”

“I swear, if you apologize one more time, I—” Now he turns to me, annoyance in his features as I snap back, because I want him to finish his sentence.

“—You’ll what, fishman?”

A challenge is what I’ve presented him with, one he’s faced many times before, all ending the same way.

Me beneath him, in the best of ways… but that was before.

Now we stare at each other, debating on what to do next. Do we give in? Do we act as if that war from a few weeks ago never happened? The words that were said… the actions, and consequences of those actions.

No.

It won’t ever be the same.

And it will only get harder.

“… I should have listened to you.” His voice and words catch me off guard, “There was a better way to make myself known to your people and your family. It never should have gotten that far, and I…”

I watch him closely, waiting to hear the words, so I can tell him to fuck off and dry out on a beach somewhere, but as the seconds tick on it gets suffocating.

Tears are in his eyes, “I am sorry, U Majestad (Your majesty). I was scared, rash, and reckless. I should have consulted you— shown you trust…”

lift me up in your arms

“It doesn’t matter now, does it… Namor?”

The pain etched on his face at the use of that name riddles me with guilt. But he deserves it, and he knows it.

(Hold me down) I need love, I need love, I need love

Lifting an arm out to me, he watches me with bated breath, hoping I’ll accept his side hug.

And against my better judgment, I do.

(Keep me close) hold me, hold me

Warmth, safety, sunshine— sunrise and sunset.

(Safe and sound) hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me

More tears. More crying.

But this time… comfort.

(Lift me up) hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me

“You can hate me for all eternity. I deserve that, and more— but please… do not call me that name.”

I nod, trying not to sob uncontrollably, “What should I—”

I’m silenced with a kiss, a soft one that turns mournful and needy rather quickly. He kisses the air out of my lungs, and I have to push him back to take a much-needed breath.

A sound of discontent leaves him, but he kisses the tip of my nose, resting his forehead against mine.

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen.”

(Hold me down) hold me, hold me

“What?” I say breathlessly.

“My name.” He runs his thumb across my cheek, “Ch’ah Toh Almehen.”

I place my hand over his, pull my head back, staring at him, completely beside myself. After a year of being with him, telling him my heart's desires, my hopes and dreams, never did I think I’d hear him tell me his name.

His name.

Smiling, tears run down my face again as I hug and kiss him.

“I like it…”

His smile is bashful, warm and inviting. Leaning in to kiss him again, I whisper.

(Keep me safe) we need light, we need love

“Ch’ah Toh Almehen.”

-----

The end (Horrible, I know)

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lordoftablecloths · 1 year

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vent post i guess i dont know i just wanted to write stuff down instead of just go ing to bed and crying over it you can just scroll past it

im fine im sane im noramal im so unbleiveably cringe ,, the only person i have irl- fuck, or even online for that matter- to show the dumbass things i write is my silly little dumbass younger brother who doesn;t understand what im trying to get at and i guess its not his fault, i seriously doubt he's spent unhealthy amounts of time making various short scenerios in his head about charcters he came up with and eventually trying to give them a story and write little things about them in google docs because where else am i supposed to put this and its just ,, he doesnt know wht im trying to do and i dont know how to explain it to him because the "history" i gess behind it is so fucking complicated by now that these characters arent even the same characters as they were when i originally created them, other than some physical attributes and their names and he just knows them as the random cringe shit i made up in middle school but so many years have passed by now that these stupid fuckers whose only purpose to serve is to make me stop remembering that i exist and ive gotten too attatched to them because who else was i supposed to get attatched to when i was going through an identity crisis at the time- and, quite frankly, still fucking am- and it was so much easier to pretend i dont exist and just project my flaws and insecurities and underlying subconcsious thoughts into these charactes that no one knows about except me and oh god im just created a long ass vent post on tumblr that no one's going to read and no one understands the story behind fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck whatever ill go ahead and post this unfinished thing because no one's going to get it either way ill probably delete it later if it doesnt get buried under reblogs

dont think too much about this i just got sad because my brother was giving me a bunch of criticism on an outline of a story i was working on- which is fair, i need to take criticism- but he only knows the characters in it as their semi-formed cringe versions so i chickened out half way and now i feel bad because i was really proud of this thing for the whopping span of like one day before i decided to show it to another human person instead of letting it rot away inside of me like i usually do and now i feel bad about my writing skills

im trying so hard to just take his words with a grain of salt because this kid does not have nearly as much experience with writing as i do, but i feel like im copying too many of my inspirations (DnD, generic fantasy story about defeating evil creature, silly tropes, etc,,) which sucks because that was just like the first two pages of the outline and theres nine fucking pages and like the second half of it was what i put the most effort into and i felt like the ideas were really origianl but i could make myself let him naturally get to that part of the outline because i was starting to feel really bad and wieerd and oh god he is looking at ideas i havent ever expressed to another human person even though i am very familaiar with because i came up with them and they havebeen in my head for at least a year or two by now and have been haunting me ever since so instead of skipping ahead to the parts that were really good in my opinion but would have made no sense without context i just told him to piss off i gues s

i dont know. i feel dumb. i feel stupid. ive put so much effort into this stuff and the concept that ive been wasting my time feels like too heavy of a weight to handle. god none of this porbobably nmakes any sense ,,,,,,,,, i guess this is why i feel miserable when the fanart and shitpost memes i post get a comically larger audience and attention than the art relating to my silly goofy ocs, because these stupid fucking characters are all thats keeping me going . call me cringe, but is it still cringe if the concept that maybe i too can be around people that love me and instead of having to like me in spite of my faults love me for them keeps me from fucking killing myself is it still cringe?

if a tree falls in a forest and no one's around, does its fall even make a sound? (shit piss fuck sorry i dont remember the original quote and all i can remember is tha t one line from that one musical i dont remember what it was)

if an autistic moron that cant even talk to a cashier without having a panic attack makes a universe full of fictional characters of his own cfreation then an alternate universe, then several alternate universes, then a spin off from that original universe and etc etc but its all just on google fucking docs and no where else except deleted excerpts from a dead wattpad account, did he ever even create anything at all?

its pointless. its all so fucking pointless. its a waste of time. why do i do this at all. its so fucking pointless. it makes no fucking sense. you cant just make a story with characters in it, then make a fucking fantasy au of that universe with the same characters but with different designs and wildly different personalities and then make a whole fucking complicated lore-filled story about the fantasy au version while the original universe's story is still left mostly unfinished like forget about a first draft of the text i havent even finished the first ddraft of the outline yet buckarooooooo

okay fuck you guys thats all i want to tell you im going to go pretend to myself to try to go to sleep and then cry now

#vent #i guess #sorry for saying fuck you guys yall are the only keeping me together and making me feel like i have any importance at all #long post

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han-jisung · 5 years

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What's that Halloween ff 🥺🥺🥺 I wanna read it toooo

a-are u sure? i'm almost crying bc of it dghddjs

#it wasnt that scary #next time i'll read the warnings better #i overread one word & well that word basically said a lot #uhh i'd link the ff here but i'm on mobile so i'll just reblog it #but!!! i'll probably delete it later again cause y e a #too much for my heart #too much for my own good #everything started w channie being the hot & attractive boy he is & then everything went down for my heart #like i thought wow halloween ffs can't be that bad (bad in not that scary) but well i was... uhhh fooled #ur halloween writings r really scary dhdjdjdj #& don't come at me after reading it w it WAS!!!!! :((((#ask #anon #okay i'll reblog it :(#i don't even know w how many tws ill have to tag it tho #WAIT THE IT WASNT THAT SCARY DID NOT CAME OUT OF MY MOUTH #I WROTE ITS NOT THAT SCARY IN THE TAGS SOMEWHERE BUT W THE WRONG ' THING #SO YEA I MEANT U SHOULDNT COME AS IF IT ISNT SCARY #man i need sleep #dbdbdkkdkf #tumblr just messed up my tags again

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insertdisc5 · 3 years

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Hi!! I wanted to ask, in celebration of Deltarune CH. 2, do you have any updated thoughts and head canons about the game?? Like, y'know, similar to a previous ask about Kris in your Deltarune tag? Thanks!

thoughts on kris part 2 i guess???? (part 1 from ch1 here lol)

spoilers for deltarune like woah. this wont be kris focused just random thoughts on everything. thank you for giving me the opportunity to talk

not that many thoughts for this chapter tbh! EDIT LOL: this was a lie i have a lot of thoughts

-just in general i feel like the player isn't the only one controlling kris... like yes the player forced kris to do what happened in the snowgrave route but AT THE SAME TIME idk it feels like there's someone else too. just because of the terrifying voice i suppose. and also the jerky movement kris does every time they get their soul out? unless there's another reason for it... maybe getting your soul out means you walk weird lol

-BUT ALSO i feel like kris is 100% in control when they create fountains. idk it just makes sense kris would create them. to create another world, a better world, A WORLD WHERE THEIR BROTHER IS HERE PERHAPS? i do wonder why they get their soul out then though. i'm all for it sweetie! do whatever! i support you!

-(i am and will be playing deltarune with only kris' best interests in mind. i will not hurt anyone unless kris wants me to. dont worry my little meow meow im on your side! talk to me! no? okay ill stay under the sink its fine)

-speaking of asriel. SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER VACATION COLLEGE WHEN? SUMMER (starts crying) V-VACATION COLLEGE WHEN

-kris misses their brother so much it's so sad. if you make kris steal 5$ from asriel they take it "reluctantly"? talking to asriel online so often even alphys knows?? the google search?? GOING INTO ASRIEL'S GOOGLE SEARCH ROOM WITH THEIR EYES CLOSED BECAUSE THEY'RE CONVINCED THEY ALREADY KNOW WHATS IN THERE? THAT ONE IS LESS OF A MISSING THING BUT IM LIKE OH MY GOD

-the city walk with susie at the end makes it clear to me that kris really values susie's friendship... kris even sits with her if you spend long enough near the lake like aaaaah ;_;

-and even in snowgrave you spend your last acts with the final boss calling for your friends like YES there's a way bigger creepy aspect to this (kris as more of a Leader who Commands and commands their subjects to come) but still :'0 (and then noelle answers oh my god noelle im so sorry for the trauma)

-berdly. listen. listen. listen. liste

-berdly sucks but [berdly hurts his arm in the battle against queen if you don't save him because he doesnt want to hurt you] [berdly realizing smg's wrong in snowgrave and immediately taking steps to save noelle] berdly is my little crumb nugget. i will protect him.

-noelle. noelle. girlboss!

-like ooooh listen. hearing about the genocide path for undertale. made me go "that is SO COOL. i HAVE to experience it myself this is great. hehehe killing time" and like no regrets. i was fully enjoying the experience knowing i was an awful person. SNOWGRAVE THOUGH. i will never try this myself its too fucked up. casually grooming your childhood friend to murder people <3 and also acting like a weird stalker towards her <3 stockholm syndrome speedrun i will get all the info i can about this but i will never do this myself

-people remarking the kris/player>noelle relationship is similar to the relationship between player>chara in genocide path is like yes. chefs kiss. don't worry we just are making you stronger and everything will be fine "you made me kill my friend? and for what?" this is fine sweetie don't worry about it!!!!!!

-like the amount of details added to snowgrave, like if you equip noelle's watch she notices later? and her battle animations change as time goes on, she gets an ice shield and stops sighing in relief after battle? oh my god? oh my god.

-(berdly is not awake.) JUST KILL ME RIGHT HERE I HAVEN'T STOPPED THINKING ABOUT BERDLY NOT BEING AWAKE!!!!!

-also why didnt he turn into dust. so many possible reasons. is magic a thing in the normal world and perhaps no magic means no dust (theres graves). maybe he isnt dead. maybe hes braindead. maybe he'll come back. either way that boy is now in the closet big enough to put someone in

-also dess' name probably being december AND THATS WHY NOELLE LOST THE SPELLING BEE?!?!??! FUCK ME UP!!!!! JUST FUCK ME UP!!!!!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

-also so many good pixel art this chapter. too many? i didnt need pixel art of cardboard noelle falling on the statue. like thank you but please. please it hurts my game artist brain.

-the expressions in this chapter were also top notch. all the unsettling noelle expressions like (i fall over face first)

-i threw away the ball of junk (which i already tried in ch1) and this time the game was like "ARE YOU SURE BC THIS IS A BAD IDEA" and kris felt bitter :'( (it deletes all your items in the dark world)

-i uh fucked up and skipped the susie+noelle scene bc listen last time ralsei mentionned seeing what susie is doing we missed some PRIMO LORE. turns out it just makes you skip the scene and you dont get anything new. welp

-speaking of ralsei well you know. he exists. but im stuck on him going "i just wonder what being ralsei-like even is...?" ralsei my dude there's so much i could say about this. do you feel like you can't be ralsei-like because you feel like you have to be asriel-like

-but also that makes no sense bc susie hasnt even mentioned ralsei looks like asriel. and i cant imagine asriel being so meek. so WHAT GIVES

-ralsei as kris’ “i wish i was a monster just like my bro and family and i’d look like asriel but with red horns [THE HALLOWEEN COSTUME] and my name would be something cool like ralsei instead of a boring human name like kris and im sweet and cute because thats how i act with asriel because ASRIEL MADE ME” theory because that would be cute.

-ASRIEL GOING TO THE CHURCH TO CONFESS HIS "SINS" WHEN "SINS" AREN'T A THING IN THE ANGEL BELIEF LIKE I KNOW THIS INTERACTION WAS TREATED AS A JOKE BUT WHAT THE FUCK ASRIEL?

-kris definitely has a connection with the big red door in the city, judging by what the kids say they probably went there... i feel like this place's dark world will be the Final Dungeon you KNOW some shit happened there. also the sounds you hear when you go there is the phone dark world call's sound slowed down? AND AFTER SNOWGRAVE APPARENTLY YOU CANT HEAR IT ANYMORE? HUWAH?

-speaking of songs the songs were all so good, My Castle Town rules, the berdly snowgrave music is stuck in my head, flashback is uwah wuahah, Until Next Time is so good, AND ALSO A FRIEND NOTICED THE DARK WORLD CITY THEME IS JUST tHE SONG 74 (MOST NOTICEABLE WITH THE SNOWGRAVE VERSION)?????? WHAT DOES IT MEAN????? it might be just "hey its just reuse" BUT MR FOX YOU KNOW WE'RE GONNA READ INTO THIS IS NOELLE THE ONE SINGING IDK BRO!!!!!!!!!!

-asgore dreemurr fired from the force what happun!!!!! game theory is that asgore is related to dess' death/disappearance but eh who knows

-you start the chapter at lvl2 and get to lvl3 after the final boss, a friend mentioned this is probably because we destroyed a world and im :0

-to go back to kris it's still so interesting to figure out who they are based on how they act/people mention them. like kris shaking the ferris wheel car? yeah makes sense i can imagine a pranking kid do this. kris' dance? yeah thats a little silly but i can buy it. doing cool anime poses? well i dunno this doesnt line up PERFECTLY but sure. BUT EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS IN SNOWGRAVE... especially >proceed like that is such a weird thing that i can't imagine them doing, but i can't completely see the "player" doing either (compare with going to sans -which kris doesnt know- and going "SANS!" because of course the player would know sans), like THATS one of the reasons i feel like there's someone else in there. the weird robotic merciless actions. if im going super meta it feels like there'd be someone else like writing the choices into existence for us to pick you know? gaster probably? god i need to read more gaster theories i completely sidestepped the gaster shit bc i wasnt interested. anyway just spitballing

-(looks at big shot guy) please dont make him the next tumblr guy i beg you

-obligatory "queen was great" mention if only because this part made me laugh a little bit too hard

that was a lot. thank you for letting me talk

#ask tag #deltarune #deltarune spoilers #snowgrave spoilers

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hoshi-y · 2 years

Text

Little Brother Duty

Genre : Fluff (Platonic)

Characters : Mitsuba Sousuke

TW : None

A/N : I was making it already but i accidentally deleted it 😭, But i remember them saying if they could have Mitsuba who is alive that is sick and has a little brother Maybe 7 or 8 that tries to take care of them, I'm sorry again ! 😭

And also, AHHH TYSM I didn't know someone would actually like my horrid writings 💗💗

Have a wonderful Night/Day 💗💗

Mitsuba Sousuke

Thank you for taking care of big brother

"I'll send you some notes when i come by alright?, Drink your medicine and gets lots of sleep sousuke, I'll see you later!" You said, As he also said his goodbyes he hung up the phone and dug deeper into the sheets

Boxes of tissues were scene everywhere, yes everywhere, the desk, his bed side table, the floor just filled with crumpled up tissue

Groaning from his throbing headache and how cold it was he hated it "That stupig lame ass traffic earring did this to me, I'll never forgive him!!"

Actually it was his fault anyways lmao—

A small knock was heard, Probably his little brother. He lifted up the blanket from his face "Go away Akihiko, You're gonna catch my cold." But his little brother is as stubborn as him so he went inside "Nee-chan, I made you cup noodles!"

"Didn't I tell you not to come in?" Wow sassy

"And didn't I tell you I made you cup noodles? Sit down and eat" Also sassy...

Akihiro is on Little Brother Duty!!

His goal for today??

To take care of his sick big brother!!

For starters, he would try to get a basin filled with cold water and a towel to put on his brothers forehead 💗

He put mostly ice in it, maybe 70% ice and the rest water HAHA

His Brother locks him out? Surprise he has a duplicate of his key room

So mitsuba really doesn't have a chance lol

"Ne Oni-Chan, Do you like [F—]"

"Be quiet or i ill pass this cold onto you, you little gremlin"

">:("

If mitsuba tried to get up and take his medicine his little brother will push him back to bed, Nurse akihiro does not allow sick patients to get up

He would sometimes give the wrong medicine to him, like melatonin

aha kids

It would take him almost an hour to try and get what mitsuba wanted but he's trying :,)

Absolutely adorable, he would draw on mitsubas little table when he sleeps

But of course kids can feel sleepy too

maybe a little close of eyes—

No, He can't afford to sleep too! his big brother needs help!

"Sousuke! I'm here!" Knocking on his door no answer "Akihiro are you in there? I brought your Brother some medicine and i also bought you DIY Gummy worms!"

No asnwer again, The door was also unlock which made you anxious, What if someone broke in and stole their stuff, what if they got held for ransom, worse dead?! What if—

Your thinking was disturbed by soft snoring, You open Mitsubas door slightly and see both of them alseep

'Oh thank god..' Sighing a sigh of relief, you try to put Akihiro in a more comfortable position but he jolted up

"Ah! I fell asleep! Oh [F/N] - Neesan!! What brings you here?" Sitting up and hugging your arm

'So cuuttee TT' "I came here to bring your brother some food and medicine! Oh i also brought you some gummies!" He thanked you and started making shark gummies

You look over to see Mitsuba sound asleep, Bottles of Gatorade was scene on his bedside table and some cup noodles

"I took care of Nee-chan! Cause he was very weak to do any thing by himself" he said as he layed his head on his bed

This two were absolutely unseperable, Yes they fight as siblings too, But they love each other as much

"Well you did a very good job of taking care of nee-san" Patting his head, You continue to keep both of them company for the rest of the day.

I hope i did your request right! and I also hope you like this anon! I accidentally deleted the first one hnggdhdhs TT

#toilet bound hanako kun #jibaku shoujo hanako kun #tbhk x reader #tbhk mitsuba #jshk mitsuba #mitsuba sousuke

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lighdramons · 3 years

Text

Hi I'm back. I promised awhile ago I’d tell the story of the fucked up digi.mon cult, so I figured that’s a great start for getting back onto this hellsite.

If the read more works, everything will be below the cut and it is a mess. Just a few things before the cut though:

General TW as I will be bringing up some of the bad experiences I had as well as talking about mental illness.

I will not be using names of sites, usernames, etc. I will not answer on specific users either. I’m sure these sites are still operating somewhere privately and back in the day, some of these people were big in the Digi.mon community outside of the sites as well.

If any of the people involved see this, no ill wishes towards you guys, just my take on things.

I quit these sites back in early 2015. I do not know what happened after I quit. I am only still in contact with a few individuals who either quit around the same time as me or long before.

As a general courtesy, some of these sites still exist. Please do not go harass them. A lot of the public sites are just teens trying to figure out themselves.

If you have questions or comments after reading this whole thing, I’m happy to answer any either publicly or privately. And yes, you can reblog this post.

We need to jump back to 2007 to begin with. I was a middle schooler getting back into Digi.mon because I walked into Gamestop and Digi.mon was sitting in the new releases. And I had access to the internet. I did binge S1-5 with subs and watching reruns of the dub on Toon Disney. I spent some time on the big fansite. Great site, just bad experience at the time because I was a teen and probably lied about my age. I didn’t feel like that was the community for me. I do check it every day now for news, just never made a new account cause I don’t even remember what I used back in the day.

By end of 2008/beginning of 2009 I began looking for other sites, stumbled across the digiclipse stuff on the bad encyclopedia site, looked into it, thought it was neat, moved on. Stuck with the big site for now because the only other sites I found were RP sites and not my thing at the time. Got hit hard with depression at the start of 10th grade (late 2010) and found my way back onto the digiclipse stuff. Didn’t really believe most of it, but thought the idea of creating AI Digi.mon was neat. Joined the smaller of the two sites because it felt friendlier and most users seemed my age.

For people who do not know, digiclipse is the act of going outside and holding the toys up hoping to get teleported. Most people by the time I joined thought the people who did this were crazy. Some people liked to do it for the lolz though.

Anyways, most of what happened on the sites was just talking and hanging out in chat rooms about life and other things. It was pretty chill. I can’t speak for everyone on the sites, but for me it was an escapism kind of thing. I was depressed and hated life so pretending that a magical adventure was a possibility gave me some hope. But honestly, got a group of people who were cool to talk with for the most part. There was one older female in her mid 20s that would come in the chat drunk and sexually harass the other female users and tell all the male they should die and are worthless. Nothing was ever done about her. And honestly it was weird having her there when most of the other people on the site were under 18. That was initially my only bad experience on the sites.

At some point during 2011, there were three individuals who claimed to see and speak with their digi.mon partners. And that they could read your aura and tell you exactly your digi.mon partner. And everyone believed this shit, mostly because two of them were prominent members and how could they lie. The process was simple, you would DM them either a creative piece you’ve done (art, writing, etc) or send a photo of yourself and they’d come back in a few days and tell you who your partner was. There was only ever one individual this method of tracking did not work on and that is yours truly. Oh and at the time it hit hard because I had started falling down the rabbit hole. This is the beginning of the cult-ish stuff.

Then the Ouija board happened. I have no issues with what happened during the fucking around with said Ouija board, I have issues with everything that spiraled out of control after. They fucked around with it confirming people’s partners that the others had “found”. And eventually they asked about mine. And then it was basically said, “oh we can’t tell you the results”. I was eventually added to this secret site of “The Chosen”. And basically told, “oh your partner is the offspring/creation of THE BIG BAD” and there were all sorts of debates on what to do about it. I literally thought I was getting punked at first and these people are clearly taking this whole thing too far. No, these people all believed this. Oh and the best part, most of the people involved in this “chosen” group were in their mid 20s. Me being a depressed as fuck 16yo that just wanted something exciting in life ended up eating all this up. I felt special and chosen. I look back on it now and I’m like what a fucking idiot.

We were all taught from the three who could do the stuff I explained earlier how we can also learn to bond and communicate and see our partner. I had absolutely no progress. Eventually this stuff led to everyone in this “chosen” group getting a “special guardian spirit”. Again, I made no progress on this. And to the point where they made me feel special again, I was the only person who had the wrong “guardian spirit” and they eventually found my “real one”, more on this later.

These discussions moved from a forum site to a private skype chat room, and then further smaller private chat rooms. The movement to skype is where I started having some bad experiences. I gave a few of my “close” friends on the site my phone number, soon everyone had my number. And this happened to multiple people over the years. My own stupidity at the time.

This stuff continued as I finished high school. At the time, I still managed to maintain my social life with school friends, keep up my grades, etc. Got into college with a good scholarship in my dream field. And then I started to go downhill once I got to school. The longer this stuff went on, the more you were expected to be involved. Including being on skype calls all night. It slowly began consuming my life. I ended up not only with depression, but ending up with an ED that was tied to anxiety so I’d go days without eating. I was seeing things and hearing voices, which was highly encouraged because it meant things were working. I literally could not tell the difference of when I was asleep or awake. I honestly do not remember the majority of my freshman year of college. I had no real friends and was just barely scraping by grade-wise. And well, the academic year almost ended with me hanging from a pipe in my dorm.

I ended up running the site I started on as an admin after the original admin team left. And it was expected you do not mention any of the “secret” stuff on the main site. Over the years I know it became clear to the users not included that there were secrets in the background. And those who knew stuff would actively fuck with these users. And if I haven’t made it clear yet, there was a hierarchy to this whole secret group. And it was the original three who were mentioned at the beginning that were on top. And what they said was gospel. Whatever they claimed is what happened and whatever rules they had were the rules. But of course certain people could break the rules and get away with it.

This next part happened at some point during my freshman year and will be relevant again later on. This is the biggest TW section so skip if you have to. I had a user dox me. He had my home address and threatened to post it. He had sent it privately to a few other users as well that alerted me of this. His reasoning? I would not date him or say I loved him. He told me that he would come to my house, murder me, r*pe my dead body, because he is the only one who gets to have me. Another user got involved and called the cops. I do not know if anything ever came of this because I never spoke to anyone about it. I at the time had admin privileges on one of the sites so I banned him and blocked his IP and I blocked him on anything I could. And I continued doing this over the years. I was told I was a bad person for doing this because I did not understand him. This lead to a lot of the things in the above paragraph getting worse.

As this all continued, there were battles and casualties and everyone ended up with like 20 partners. And if you haven’t noticed I’ve stopped using the term digi.mon entirely in the past few paragraphs. That’s because oh they weren’t digi.mon. They were spirits/dimensional beings that took on a form we were comfortable with and we formed a bond with. And I kept going along with all of this because I was in too deep at this point. And obviously yes, this all made sense. So at some point during this time, my “spirit” went to sleep and a new one “awakened”. And I of course still went along with all this. The BIG BAD kept mutating into stronger forms and blah blah blah.

During my fall semester sophomore year, I joined theatre at my college and did tech. Honestly, one of the reasons I was able to begin breaking away from this. I started to get an actual friend group and have less time for these sites. But there was always a pull of “you have to be here”. You were expected to be on skype calls and/or active in chat.

Well, that all changed at the start of 2015. They wanted a deletion of all the other sites and they would have one site united under one belief system. I was not a huge fan of this and made this known, but also offered to help in the coding as that was a skill I had that no one else really had. It got out around that I was a cunt and a power hungry bitch and blah blah blah. If it was just that, I would probably not have left. No no no, I was accused of lying about the shit that that user said and did to me. Because he is such a nice guy that could never do that type of stuff. And unless I provided the receipts I was clearly an attention seeking liar that wanted to ruin his life. That was the straw. I fucking blacked out in a rage and attempted to delete some of the different websites, I blasted some of these people on their real facebooks, and then I deleted all of my accounts and blocked everyone and blocked their numbers.

After that, I started talking with other people that quit. I started enjoying my college life. And I tried to act like none of that stuff had happened. I distanced myself from those individuals that were active in the Digi.mon community. I stopped hearing the voices and seeing things. I started going to therapy. My road hasn’t been perfect, but I’ve come a long way since I got out of this stuff. Honestly going to meet up with one old member after covid is all clear cause we’ve known each other for over a decade now and its about time we finally meet in person.

So yeah, that’s my story. I know I jumped around a bit and thoughts might not be too clear, but I wanted to share the fucked up things that happen in the background of the digi.mon community. Did I have good times? Hell yeah. The Olive Garden incident still to this day is iconic. We played d&d oneshots sometimes. We had memes. We all watched xros and hunters together live. And I still have some good friends out of this. The most fascinating thing out of all of this is everyone from the community that I still am either in contact with or see them via social media had admitted over the years to suffer from some kind of mental illness and has come out as part of the LGBTQA+ community. My own conclusion is a lot of us got sucked in due to depression/escapism and just a feeling of not belonging. And being around people of similar age with similar interests just made things more bearable at times. It also made a lot of us very vulnerable to the manipulation that took place, whether it was intentional or just one big group delusion created by multiple mentally ill people. I call it a cult, but I'm sure people will disagree with me. Whatever you want to call it, it wasn't good for my mental health in the long run.

If this shit is still going on, I hope people aren’t letting it consume their lives. And I just wish the best for everyone even if some of the shit hurt me.

As I said up top, if you want me to elaborate on anything or have questions, I’m good with talking about stuff. If you know me IRL and are reading this and are like "RACHEL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" I owe you a drink and explanation. And of course it Is okay to reblog. This is one hell of a comeback post on this site, am I right?

#ray's rants #im back on this hellsite and im here to share bullshit

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

Note

hi friend!!!! i love your writing!!! if you're taking prompts from the bingo card (if you're not then feel free to delete this!!), how about N5 for Jon? :) i hope you have a great day!!

‘fighting to pay attention to urgent information’ ahh i love this prompt!! thank you so much for the ask, it means a lot since i love your writing so much (and it inspired me to starting posting my stuff, to be honest). Here you go, I hope you like! This takes place right after Sasha makes her statement to Jon in season one.

Sasha is talking but Jon can’t hear her.

It’s all muddled in his mind. So many things have happened over the last couple of weeks- Martin’s worm attack and now Sasha’s encounter with Michael- and his mind is refusing to process. She gave her statement in his office and was now explaining the situation to Martin and Tim while Jon stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to nod at the appropriate time.

“We’ll need a plan of attack if Prentiss comes or if any of us encounter Michael again,” she’s saying. “Martin’s already living here, but-”

A plan. Yes. A plan would be good but Jon can’t think beyond Sasha bleeding in his office and Martin throwing open his door demanding to be heard. The worms on the pavement crawl and creep and remind him of something he thought he’d finally put behind him but he’s been chasing it the entire time, hasn’t he?

His body feels at once too hot and too cold. Jon’s never understood that about illness. How a body can burn with fever and shake with a chill at the same time. But he’s not sick, he’s just...overwhelmed. Needs to eat a normal meal, needs to get some sleep. If he could just get a deep breath in his lungs the black spots would stop dancing in front of his vision and he could pay attention and come up with a plan.

But every other word is ‘worms’ and ‘infestation’ and all matter of disturbing things and his mind goes wild with imagination, horrible scenarios playing out in his mind as his breaths turn into an uneven staccato of sound that he tries to stifle.

“-could get more CO2 you think? Jon?” That’s your name.

“A-Ah, yes. I’ll t-talk to Elias.” Sasha nods and Jon is relieved to have said the right thing. The fog in his brain lifts; the panic eases for just a few moments but it only reveals more physical pain and he starts to shake. He knows he needs to sit down soon or he’ll be lying on the ground either way. So he slowly backs out of the room, hoping no one notices as his hands grasp at the wall for balance. He manages to stumble back to Document Storage before he hears someone calling his name. But he’s lost now, barely breathing as his heart stutters in his chest and he sinks to the floor.

________

Martin had been watching Jon while Sasha spoke. Martin watched Jon a lot- innocently, of course, and Jon never seemed to notice. He was either willfully ignorant or really that oblivious.

Martin was starting to double down on the ‘willfully ignorant’ theory.

Jon was nodding along, sure. But his face held a detached blankness, as if each word were in one ear and out the other. Of course he would zone out during this conversation; it involved real, actual supernatural occurrences. He only contributed once, a vague promise to talk to Elias, who was turning out to be a very useless manager. Martin thought Jon was getting better about this. After all, he seemed to believe both Martin and Sasha’s stories. But he watched as Jon moved further and further out of the room when he should be contributing to the conversation. He disappeared down the hallway and Martin let out an irritated sigh, drawing Tim and Sasha’s attention.

“What’s up?” Tim asked from his perch on Sasha’s desk. “Don’t worry, we’re gonna figure this out-”

“It’s not-” Martin got up, starting to make his way down the hallway. “It’s Jon. I can’t believe he would just walk out on this. I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Martin-” Sasha sounded hesitant but he ignored her as he spotted the open door to Document Storage. Why would Jon go here instead of his office? This was Martin’s room with his things. And I didn’t exactly keep it clean. “Jon?” he called out. “Jon, you need to- what are you doing?”

The man was leaning against his cot, knees brought up to his chest as he stared at the floor. His glasses were tucked into his sweater and his hair was a mess, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. And he was ignoring Martin in favor of whatever the hell he found so interesting about the floor. Martin stooped down to his level, ignoring the twinge in his knees on the cold cement. “What’s going on?” he asked again, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. God, Jon could be so infuriating at times, but he was still concerned.

Jon barely spared him a glance and tightened his arms around his knees, looking like a ball of tension. His shoulders moved very minutely upwards in a sort of shrugging motion and Martin thought he heard a mumble of ‘’nothing, fine,” under his breath and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He moved in closer, setting a firm hand on Jon’s bony shoulder- when did he get so thin?

“Look, I know it’s a lot,” Martin tried for comfort, though it was getting harder and harder to do so these days when the man refused to see reason. “But you can’t just bury your head in the sand whenever someone says something you don’t want to hear, alright? We’re all struggling and it would be a lot easier if we had a boss who actually listened instead of- shit.”

Jon was shaking so much. How had he not noticed? His breathing was off, like a sputtering engine as his white-knuckled grip dug into his knees. His face was ashen and sweaty. He was clearly unwell but he opened his mouth anyway in an attempt to respond. His eyes did not meet Martin’s.

“It’s- it’s all I think about,” he began, his voice more of a croak than the smooth baritone Martin was used to. “She’s after us, after you and Sasha and now there’s Michael and I don’t know what to do.” Martin watched in horror as his eyes filled with tears and his voice trembled. “And- and what if I go home and she’s waiting there? What if she gets Tim? What if we aren’t safe anywhere?” A slender hand shot out and grabbed onto Martin’s sweater, startling him as Jon’s eyes met his own with a desperate fervor. “I-I can’t sleep. I can’t eat. And Elias doesn’t even care, just w-watches while we all scramble around doing- doing-” his voice broke into a hacking cough and Martin couldn’t witness any more. He dislodged Jon’s hand and backed away. Seeing Jon like this was uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure what to do about it, so he went into his natural problem-solving mode. “I’m going to get you some water, yeah? You’re- you’re not well, we can talk about this later.” Despite keeping his voice soft and low, Martin watched as Jon shrunk into himself, desperately trying to stifle his coughs. “I’ll be right back.”

He hightailed it out of the storage area, eyes firmly on the ground and steps so quick he didn’t notice Tim until he ran right into him.

“Oof! What’s wrong, Martin?” Tim said as he grabbed him by the shoulder. “Boss giving you trouble?” Martin shook his head, voicing his next words as diplomatically as possible.

“He’s, um- I think he’s sick?” Tim’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m just going to get him some water, yeah.” He walked off before Tim could ask another question; he didn’t want to leave Jon alone for too long but he also didn’t want to be subjected to Tim’s questioning.

It only took him a couple of minutes to grab some water and a cold towel but by the time he got back to the room Jon was laid out on his cot, eyes barely open as Tim said something Martin couldn’t hear and smiled softly at the man in the bed. He knew they’d all known each other before the Archives; it was something that he thought about quite a bit, to be honest. But he’d never really seen Jon interact with someone like this, so quiet and trusting that he nodded off right in front of them.

“There you are!” Tim said, uncharacteristically quiet. He reached out and Martin handed over the supplies, still stupefied by the whole situation.

“Just gonna let him sleep for a mo’ before I force this down his throat,” he chuckled as he gently placed the towel on his forehead. “Glad you checked up on him- didn’t realize he was having a rough go of it. I’m usually a bit more observant.”

“We’re all having a rough go of it, Tim,” Martin felt like he had to explain some of his frustration. “How did he let himself get to this point? I mean, he’s always so skeptical on the tapes but it turns out he’s worked himself up so much he’s sick and it doesn’t make any sense.”

“We all tell our lies, Martin,” The words weren’t said unkindly, but he remembered that Tim knew about his resume and though he didn’t think the man would ever tell anyone it did seem like the words were rather pointed. “His coping mechanism is all this skeptic nonsense. Don’t get me wrong, it’s terrible and very annoying,” Tim conceded, giving Martin a knowing look. “But not all of us ended up here accidentally. Most of us are here for answers. For a reason.” Tim’s far off look reminded him that he knew so little about the people he worked with. He wondered what Tim’s reason was, what Jon’s was. And if they would ever feel comfortable enough to confide in him.

Martin doesn’t know how to respond to those words, so he does what he does best- deflect and nervously offer his services. “I can throw the kettle on, maybe order some takeaway? Food would probably make him feel better.”

“Yeah, reckon it would,” Tim’s just staring at Jon as he fitfully dozed. Tim may not have been attacked directly but he looked tired and worried all the same. “He likes Thai.”

Martin noted the fact down for his mental file on Jonathan Sims. Hates spiders. Likes his tea with milk, no sugar. Hates my handwriting. Likes Thai. It’s not very comprehensive.

Later, when he’s making tea in the break room, he watches as Sasha slips into the hallway to Document Storage, attempting to go unnoticed. She’s got a hand to her shoulder like she’s trying to rub away the ache and Martin grabs some paracetamol out of the cabinet, knowing both her and Jon will need it. Everyone in the Archives likes to hide their pain, himself included. But maybe for one night they could help each other out. Four tired humans against two eldritch abominations.

Martin could get behind those odds.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065482

#asks #my writing #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #sasha james #sickfic #prompt #panic attacks cw #taylortut #thank you for the prompt! i loved it

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babyybitchhh · 3 years

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Announcement

Alrighty, then. This post has been a long time coming so lets get right into it.

After much deliberation, I've decided not to push the self destruct button. I thought about it. Oh, when I say I was SO damn close to deleting this entire blog and all my fics right along with it. I'm frustrated and angry with myself, and I can't exactly say I'm doing well atm, but I know when things start to get better I'll want to write again, in earnest, and then I'd have to start over from scratch. Egg all over my face. Clown shit. We don't know her.

BUT. I think its clear to any and all that this is not working. It's just not. I expect too much of myself, for starters. And when it feels like others expect a certain level of performance from me that I just can't nail consistently due to my own ineptitude, my brain powers off. Is it some kind of executive dysfunction? Is it a fear of failing? A fear of success? Plain old anxiety? Who knows! I certainly don't. Whatever it is, it's hanging over my head like a guillotine. I'm beyond stressed and barely staying afloat irl, but then when I turn towards what should be a fun and therapeutic outlet all I see are expectations.

"When will you post the next chapter" on works that I WANT to finish but yet fear putting out a subpar product for and disappointing people.

"Will you write a follow up piece" for works that I WANT to expand on but don't know how to in a way that will make everyone else happy, let alone myself.

"Are you working on my request" for WIPs I have partially drafted and yet no way of knowing if that person - or anyone! - will even enjoy it.

I honestly feel guilty working on my own ideas instead of the multiple prompts in my inbox. I'm pretty sure that's part of my malfunction with my Ogun fic and others like it that are close to being done but remain unfinished simply because I'm thinking about what everyone else wants. It'd be one thing if I could just churn out content without a second thought but I can't. Like, it genuinely upsets me thinking that people are stuck in limbo waiting because I'm too chicken shit to just go with the flow instead of obsessing over every single line of text to the point of nausea, all for the sake of putting out "quality" content. I feel bad. I want to enjoy the writing process again, just like I did when I first got back into it with OsoSan. I shouldn't have started taking requests if I wasn't going to deliver, I know, and I sincerely apologize for my lack of foresight but it is what it is. I can't change the past. But what I CAN do is start fresh. So, long story short, there are going to be some changes coming to this blog.

A total revamp. I'm going to do an overhaul on the whole thing so don't be surprised when it starts to look different. I'm going to work primarily on navigation and organization, and try to tidy up a bit.

I'm turning off anon. Both because people looking to have a go with writers aren't so brave when that's no longer an option and also because I want to get as far away from those expectations as possible. I wont be reading or responding to comments on AO3 anymore for that same reason. I love you guys, and you're more than welcome to talk to me in DM's if you're more comfortable that way, but the long list of asks wanting to know wtf I'm doing in my spare time if not writing this or that is doing more harm than good.

I'm getting rid of the requests page and also purging any that I haven't already started working on - hopefully once I get into a better groove I'll actually be able to finish them, because I genuinely would like to. I really am sorry to everyone who's been waiting for their request to be fulfilled but I'm clearly not talented or confident enough to juggle my own ideas with someone else's. Maybe at some point in the future, when I'm a better writer, I'll start taking them again and we can all be happy.

And finally, I'm going to start experimenting with my writing method. As in, you're probably going to see shorter, less obsessively curated pieces popping up on my page that may not always be sexual in nature. I just really need to buckle down and work on this - all of it - and I'm determined to improve my skills even if it kills me. I have the urge to write every single day but it's hard when I'm the way I am and I've backed myself into a corner like this. I need to learn how to stop overthinking everything and just DO it. I know my productivity would increase and, with it, so would the overall quality of my work so I'm going to be focusing on different areas that need improvement. Not everything I put out will be good but that's part of the process, right? Right.

I totally understand if I lose followers for any of the above reasons, or even just personal ones, so don't hesitate to do so if you feel like you can't jive with this blog anymore. I appreciate you taking the time to read all this and I hope you understand my reasons for needing to do a reset on this page. This is exactly why I didn't want to start taking commissions and I would once again like to apologize to anyone I've let down.

P.S. I've had this distinct feeling that certain people in the writing community are not happy with me for a while now and although I'm not entirely sure what I've done wrong, I would still like to issue a formal apology for any toes I might have stepped on. That was never my intention. I can't claim to be a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but I have no ill will towards anyone. If its about the patreon I subscribed to and then left a month later, it had nothing to do with the author in question. I just belatedly realized I had more money coming out of my account than I could handle at the time and yes that weighs heavy on my shoulders. If its about the way I suddenly disappear in private chats, that's also something that shouldn't be taken personally. I genuinely have a hard time keeping up conversations with people, and I feel like a bother more often than not. If it's about the discords I join and then never participate in, see the above. If its about the way I fangirl or enthusiastically support some writers but not others, I never meant any harm by it. I just can't conceivably read everything that comes across my dash and, yes, my favorites are prioritized. Either way, whatever the grievances may be, anon will remain on until I start the revamp process some time tomorrow night so if whoever wants to air out their problems go for it. I probably wont post them but I will read them and try to learn from them, so have at it.

#small text so as to not take up so much room on people's dashes #personal #dumb bitch shit #I've already added a carrd to my bio so its easier to locate my age and such #I'd like to do a bit more with it but its late so : /#anyway I hope everyone's having a fine evening

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mycptsdstory · 4 years

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Psychopaths

A full in depth on what a psychopath is. Since on the internet and on social media, the word Psychopath is miss leading and people generally don’t understand. I grew up with two psychopaths and I know what they are like. He’s a full in depth discription of a Psychopath.

It’s a complete myth that not all psychopaths kill and turn into serial killers. That’s only 1% - 2% of psychopaths turn into a serial killer.

It’s a myth that all psychopaths use violence on their partners. Again this only on 5% - 7% of psychopaths who abuse and use violence. Same with abusing their children and using violence to their own children, not all do this. Yes they manipulate and use mental abuse, but hardly any of them do use physical abuse.

It’s also a myth that psychopaths are a danger to society. Most of them live comfortable lives. Most of them are successful since they can manipulate people and get people do what they want. They are more likely to become rich and have a successful job, since they can manipulate their surroundings. Again not by violence, but by the words they use.

It’s a myth that psychopaths were born from abusive households. Psychopaths are born a psychopath and they are treatments for children to show early signs. But when they get no treatment as children and they turn into adults, then they will manipulate people to their desire.

It’s true that Psychopaths have no empathy. To make them into “normal” human beings, they copy people and make out they have empathy. They do however, understand emotions and how they work since they can manipulate a person to do anything they want. But when they hurt people, they really don’t care, they only care about themselves and themselves alone. Since they are only looking out for them.

Manipulation is key to their survival. Since that’s how they can live and most of the time, they think it’s fun to manipulate. They create these lies so people assume they are the best on this earth. Most of them time they get bored easily and they go from person to person and have no boundaries on when to stop the manipulation. Since to then, the manipulation is all a game since they have no empathy and no remorse. Remember, they do this for fun and they do this tatic over and over again to see how many people fall for it. They also know when someone is smart and when someone is dumb, since they can manipulate the dumb people very easily because they are more likely to be fooled. This is the same as common sense, the people who have common sense are less likely to be manipulated because they can use their common sense to see the manipulation. The ones with no common sense are very easily fooled and the psychopath will stop at nothing to fool them and their lies.

Psychopaths HATE making mistakes, they want to be believe they are perfect in every way. Since this comes from no empathy and only think of themselves. When their manipulation comes to light, they will try at nothing to make them into the bad guy and them into the good guy. They call names like “they are compulsive liars” or “they are just mentally ill” and again, manipulate the situation and again, manipulate people. Again, this is how they survive. They bring to light that happening into the world like with Jeffree Star and how he tried to manipulate his followers to believe he’s in the right the whole time and he’s perfect. But he’s the thing, no one is perfect. This also comes in that a Psychopath have this “god complex” that anything that they do, people should bow down and people should follow them. The “god complex” is also when they think they are right and everyone is wrong. Different Psychopaths like James Jones when he got his followers to follow him and thinking he’s the divine human on earth. Again, those people have hardly any common sense and can be easily fooled. But not all of his followers were dumb, most of the followers were victims and wanted an escape from reality. Psychopaths see this chance and they will do at nothing to get what they want. All cult leaders are Psychopaths since they think they are god and they think they can do no wrong. Again, manipulating people to think they are god and they can do no wrong.

Furthermore, Psychopaths seek out their victims very carefully on who they can manipulate. They know instantly when someone doesn’t fall for their manipulation and they know when someone can be fooled easily so they can manipulate later. They know all of this, since they can observe people and their behaviour since that’s how they copy people and other people’s emotions. Psychopaths have this technique to a T.

Peadophiles can be psychopaths since they touch and groom children. Again, they only care about themselves and not other people. They only care if they get caught since they don’t want to ruin their “reputation”. When everything comes to light, they will gaslight the situation and make them into the good guy and the child into the bad guy. In the past before social media, people legit thought the child is at fault for sexually pleasing the adult, but now more information is out there and that’s not the case. But it doesn’t matter to the psychopath since they will stop at nothing to get what they want.

Psychopaths can gain trust VERY easily since they know how to manipulate other people. They observe people and their behaviour, they know a person’s fear, a person’s nice kind side and what to say to them. A psychopath knows all of this and again, they manipulate the situation. They know what to say and how to say to each different people. Again, they observe people and their behaviours.

EDIT: Psychopaths do know from right and wrong. That’s why it’s only a small percentage of psychopaths that turn into serial killers. Most psychopaths don’t like killing because it’s not fun to them. To them playing mind games and manipulations is mind games, they think that’s fun. Using violence to most psychopaths isn’t fun. They would rather NOT have their reputation ruined by killing someone and even child grooming (hence why only a very small percentage kill and become peadophiles).

Yes the word “psychopath” has been used wrongly and use it as an insult. Most people think psychopaths are killers and peadophiles, yet most of them aren’t. They would rather keep that reputation to be respected than everything falling apart in front of them.

Like I said, psychopaths are more likely to get a decent job than the average person; since they manipulate at every situation they are in. But most won’t use violence to get what they want.

EDIT: Some people think I’ve met 1 or 2 psychopaths because of my parents. Actually no, I’ve probably met over 15 psychopaths in my life time. I know I definitely met over 10-12 psychopaths, I know that for a fact. I lived a very different life compared to the average person.

EDIT: When I say “it’s a myth that psychopaths are born in abusive family homes” I mean it’s MYTH! It DOESNT mean they CAN BE BORN IN ABUSIVE HOME. I mean MOST and I mean MOST ARENT BORN IN ABUSIVE HOMES. Yes it’s possible they can be born in a abusive homes, but it’s still a myth. Why? NOT ALL psychopaths are born in abusive homes. My god, fucking read.

And no I’m not deleting this. And yes calling me names is manipulation tactic. And no you can’t make me delete it. And yes I’ve met over 12 psychopaths POSSIBLY and I mean POSSIBLY met over 15. And no I will refuse to delete this, you can’t make me.

EDIT. NOT ALL PSYCHOPATHS HAVE ASPD.

(I think I said everything that I needed to say. If I think of something I will write down “EDIT” like I normally do with my blogs. I hope this is helpful for anyone.)

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kinktae · 5 years

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[!] ❤️

writing this is really hard. someone once said something to me that made that ill part in my brain feel like my hardships were burdenous and that talking to u guys about my struggles with mental health was evil. it’s not their fault that I think the way I do, but it has taken me a long time to recover from that. I want to be honest with you guys in this post. I’ve tagged the correct warning but I’m going to go ahead and write them out too!

TW // DEPRESSION, LOW SELF ESTEEM, ANXIETY, AGORAPHOBIA, ACADEMIC STRUGGLES

I haven’t felt like myself for a while. In fact, I really really dislike myself, which hurts to say but it’s true. I hate how I keep everything inside and never ask for help and how I sink and sink and that it takes hitting rock bottom for me to make a change for the better.

A friend sent me this during my shift a couple of hours ago (marked out is the name I go by with irl friends):

And I burst into tears, not because I was touched but because I felt like a fraud. I don’t feel like an inspiration. I haven’t been to school in a month. I’m horribly agoraphobic once again and haven’t seen my friends in so long. I’m in the same hole I was last year. And I’m so, so disappointed in myself.

I don’t know if it’s too late to turn things around school wise but I’m sick of hating myself and treating myself like shit. My head doesn’t agree but my heart knows I deserve to love myself!! I deserve the mf world!!! And I want to fight for the life I want!!! I’m so fucking sick of waking up every morning shaking with anxiety, lying in bed for hours hating myself as I count down the hours until my shift so finally I don’t have to be alone. My animals and my job are the only reason I wake up and leave bed. I’m not living for myself and as I sit here in my car post work, crying as I angrily eat my croissant, I realize how unfair that is and how much I need to actually do something about it.

I made this decision before I posted bitchin 6 and now it finally feels like the right time. So yeah! I’m going on hiatus. For at least until the end of 2019. Probably even longer... However long it takes for me to love myself again. This is very much a real life thing and not a tumblr thing. I still love it here but my head and living situation are a mess. My mom no longer lives with me and is engaged to a man I hardly know. I got a new dog but feel guilty about it and think about my previous one. I’m moving towns in a week and am being forced to leave my job. It’s just... all too much right now all at once. And I need to sort it out. I owe it to myself.

But I will be back. I will still write every chance I get on this break. Who knows, maybe I’ll even pop in every once and while to post a fic and then dip... i don’t know but the idea of making this post and deleting the app for a while so I can fix myself just make me feel lighter, so I know it’s the right thing to do. Thank you to my wonderful friends/readers who have been so so kind to me. Seriously, more than usual you guys have been gentle and patient with me and I’m eternally grateful. I hope you guys can wait for me and will still be here when I finally come back, whenever that is.

This isn’t a goodbye, but a see you later, I promise. I hope you guys understand. thank you. ❤️

#personal #the rose that comes back will probably be 21 #and she will no longer keep subjecting herself to all this negative energy #she will unfollow those who dont have her best interest in mind and will do nothing but write and love her readers #she will stop caring so much if others dont like her bc she will like her and thats all that matter #she’ll prob redo her ml bc new year new me right #I LOVE U GUYS ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️#tw depresion #tw anxiety #tw low self esteem #tw academic struggles #tw agoraphobia

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makeyourdeanabi · 4 years

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Finale Reaction- 2 months later

In the wee hours after the Supernatural Finale, after tossing and turning in my bed, I got up and wrote this... this was before I was actually active on Tumblr and I never thought I would share this because I was too self conscious. I deleted it shortly after I wrote it because it brought me so much pain to relive it. I have since watched the Finale again and have come to terms with it and I felt it was a good time to share my thoughts. I hope that my words may bring other people comfort who feel the same way. Thanks for reading :)

Alisha

P.S. Sorry so long, I was feeling things and the words just kept coming and coming ___________________________________________

I don’t blog. Never in my life have I sat down to tell the world about my feelings in such a manner. I may contribute on message boards and social media comments, but I never thought anything was worth my time to spill my guts into the ether when I am near certain that not a soul will read them. But here I am. I have to write because if I don’t get these thoughts out of my head, I am going to go full on insane.

That ending was bad. It was a disservice to the 15 years of an incredible show that was not only genre bending it was cultural norms bending.

I could mention the various tropes that this ending (and the previous episodes) invoked, but I am not well versed in them and would never want to do anyone a disservice with a comparison that wasn’t apt.

The buildup up of each character arc and then the glaring lack of conclusion for said character arc was laughable.

To say I am disappointed is an understatement.

To say I am heartbroken is an understatement.

I am destroyed.

I am destroyed that the two men who have been with this franchise since day 1 wrote and directed an episode that they thought was the perfect ending. They thought this is what their devoted fandom wanted.

I am destroyed that the lead actors signed off on this script and went so far as to call it their favorite. I realize Jared was the only one calling it his favorite episode. Jensen admitted he had reservations about the episode and needed the wise words of creator Erik Kripke to accept it. I do have to say that taking the word of a man who left the show 10 seasons ago and hasn’t been involved in all the plot lines and inner workings since season 5 is probably not the best idea. I could be mistaken about the extent of Kripke’s involvement, but I am fairly certain that I am right in my assumptions.

Dean spent 15 years (probably more) of his life feeling unloved, unworthy, self-conscious and convinced that his life had but one purpose and that purpose would ultimately be the death of him, and he had made peace with that.

He is given a best friend, potential love interest, who helps him to see that he is more than that, so much more than that. He is selfless, he is caring, he is a lover, not a killer. His friend’s soulmate’s sacrifice is the catalyst for him believing that all these things are true. He even takes the step of admitting out loud that he knows he has changed. He knows that his life is worth living to the fullest and appreciating what he has every day and honoring those they have “lost along the way.”

To then kill him during a routine hunting trip in which the boys are up against a vampire nest they could take down in their sleep. What could possibly have been the purpose for that? To show that once they were no longer God’s little play toys their lives were expendable? WHY?

Dean, arguably the greatest hunter in the SPN universe, was taken out by a fucking rusty piece of rebar, and instead of trying to call for help and get the man to a hospital (not sure it would have helped) he has his final monologue, the one he has been due for the latter half all of Season 15. He died scared, in pain, and sad.

Dean goes to heaven, and its not the heaven we have been told of in the past where you are living in your memories. Its truly life after death and its wonderful. He meets Bobby again and told that various people in Dean’s and Bobby’s life are close by. His parents live down the road. His father, who was never confirmed to be but was most likely an abusive bastard, lives just down the road with his mother. Wonderful. (WTF?) He gets confirmation that Cas is out of the empty and he smiles, nothing more. He sees baby and goes for a drive, not to find Cas and thank him for his ultimate sacrifice, but to just drive. I like this part because we see a happy, content Dean, and we finally get to hear Kansas’s “Carry on Wayward Son” (DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE LACK OF THE ROAD SO FAR AT THE BEGINNING OF THE EPISODE). I just wish Dean’s path to heaven had been a little easier on him.

Dean deserved better.

Castiel, the selfless angel who just wanted to find purpose in his life and ultimately found it in death. He dies never being told that he is loved, after countless times of professing his love to his found family. The angel who sacrificed himself to the Empty, a horrible place of unspeakable torture, to protect the man he loves. A man who, mere days later (in my mind anyway), arrives in heaven after being killed in a gruesome accident, rather than fulfilling his destiny that Cas fought so hard to protect. Some sacrifice. It turns out that Cas is saved by the Empty from Jack, but we don’t get to see his joyful reunion with Dean, the man he loves.

Cas deserved better.

Sam is left to live this life without his brother, and potentially the love of his life because the writers couldn’t be bothered to confirm Eileen’s re-existence after Chuck’s rapture. He has a family, and he grows old (mind you with REALLY bad makeup in a show that is known for their incredible makeup/special effects departments).

He seems to be happy, but you can tell something is missing. We come to see that he raised his son to be a hunter. He raised his son in a life that, at the outset of this show, he was desperate to get out of and live a normal life. Perhaps he no longer believes that anyone can live a normal life knowing what is out there. *EDIT* Looking back I don’t believe he raised his son to be a hunter, just gave him the tattoo in case.

He names his son Dean, because of course he does. He has a wife who we see from a distance and is never given the clarity if it is Eileen or not. He finally dies after what looks like a slow and painful illness and is sent to heaven.

In heaven he meets up with Dean. This was lovely. The two of them meeting again after so long, for Sam, that is. Dean only had to seemingly wait for a few hours.

Sam deserved better.

For a show that had the potential to go out on a historically significant high, this is disappointing, to say the least. The story had the potential to end with 2 brothers who have sacrificed so much and saved so many people, find a happy ending. Not only that but find a happy ending with a deaf partner and a gay angel. If that isn’t breaking barriers and bending norms, I don’t know what is. I really would like to know what prevented this from happening. Be it the CW from restricting them or maybe the absolute lack of originality from the writers, I am curious as to their reasoning. Maybe it was COVID. Maybe because they couldn’t have those two actors physically on set due to protocols, they didn’t want to shortchange them by having them appear otherwise: disembodied voice, phone call (DONT TOUCH ME) or even a flashback… hell STOCK FOOTAGE! I don’t know and I clearly can’t imagine the reason.

I realize that there is nothing that can be done about this episode now and that accepting it and moving on is really the only way forward. But the legacy this show has left, and its lasting impact on me and my life, cannot be ignored. I was looking forward to indulging in past episodes of this show for the rest of my life. It is going to be a long time before I can watch an episode without anger and resentment towards what I know to be their eventual end. That, to me, is unforgiveable.

I don’t expect anyone to actually read this because I do not have any followers. I have never blogged in my entire life and was only recently introduced to the online fandom, but I needed to write this. I needed to share the impact that this episode had on me. I do hope that it does reach those in the fandom that may have similar feelings and are able to use my words to help express how they are feeling. We can move on, and we will move on, but we need to do it together.

I know that there are people who, if they read this, would shake their head in disbelief that I became so emotionally invested in this show that watching a bad ending would take such a toll on my mental health.

To them I say, imagine this… The Pittsburgh Steelers (my favorite team, they can imagine their own) have an incredible season. A season where they saw a myriad of highs and lows. Veteran players making incredible comebacks, rookie players coming in to their own. Season ending injuries that lead to the next man stepping up and contributing in ways they weren’t sure possible. Now imagine they make it to the Superbowl and after 3 tough quarters, in which they played their best, getting better with each quarter, they lose it in the final minutes. All that blood, sweat, and tears for nothing. Now imagine that was their last season and the Pittsburgh Steelers are no longer an NFL team. They are done. No “we’ll get ‘em next season.” No “it’s just a game and there is always another one”. Just done. Their entire franchise, for a brief moment in time, reduced to those final minutes where they failed to win. Devastating. Of course, in the long run that is not what they will be remembered for. I mean, after all, they have won 6 Lombardi trophies, and no one is taking that away from them. But the sting will remain for a while. *EDIT* This was as close to prophecy as I will ever get, the Steelers did all of the above until the playoffs, but THANK GOD, there will be another season.

If I can’t make you understand with a sports metaphor than I will never make you understand.

I love this show and this loss is devastating. I do hope that it is remembered for more than their last-minute loss. I hope it is remembered for the joy and acceptance that their fandom felt with each episode, for the laugher on set and the gag reels. I hope it is remembered for the individual players who gave it their all. I know it will be, but for me personally, this sting is going to last for a while.

#Supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #series finale #season 15 episode 20 #damn you dabb #damn you singer #destiel #supernatural

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