#my friends were targeted by this fucking asshole and all i could do was try to talk to them and amenize things

[heavenknowsffs]

.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[alessiathepirate]

The Fate of the Furious

ALIVE: Deckard Shaw x fem!reader

Summary: She thought Deckard Shaw died - yet luckily he didn't. After joining the crew on the rooftop, he had some explaining to do.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

A quiet thank you for my friend who watched these movies with me during a movie night. I love you <3

Warnings: swearing, mentioned violence and death

•••

"Oh, this will be good." Roman said to Tej as he poked - or rather punched - his arm. Both of them looked at the scenario in front of them, suddenly forgetting about their bickering over Ramsey.

Perhaps if things went differently, they'd stop arguing to quietly laugh at Shaw carrying a baby - only silently, because they perefer living over dying. Shaw with a baby was something they couldn't imagine at all, yet the thing Roman pointed out wasn't the baby. No, it was Shaw himself, who clearly overestimated his self-worth if he showed up there after the stunt he pulled.

And just in time, the girl whose feelings were very obviously hurt because of the said stunt noticed Shaw's arrival - and she looked like she's seen a ghost.

"No way, man. I really don't want to see this." Tej answered unsurely, leaning back in his seat.

"You won't want to miss it either. She'll kick his ass, that's for sure." In no other scenario would Roman dare to say that - the guy might have super hearing or something.

And just like that, the show started.

"You dick!" the shouting was so loud everyone's gaze was on her, but then - after understanding the situation - they decided to look away, not wanting to become a target of her wrath. "You absolute fucking asshole!"

"Come on, sweetheart, don't curse in front of the-"

"Don't you act like you suddenly give a shit about someone!"

"Oh, he fucked up!" Roman laughed in his seat.

"He fucked up big time." Tej agreed, and it was very rare that they did.

"No way I'd be him right now..."

Her expression was a mixture of anger and hurt, and she very clearly didn't want anyone else there to intervene - no man would dare to either way and they wouldn't succeed in doing so without getting a punch to the face.

But Letty, understanding her feelings because she was the only one she had talked to about them, did her best to diffuse the situation - in front of the child at least.

"I'll take him, don't you worry." she took the infant seat from Shaw, who had the expression of betrayal on his face.

"Thanks for your help, now why don't you go and talk this out?" if Dom's voice was anything to go by, he secretly very much enjoyed seeing Shaw's face as his son, the safety blanket he could hide behind was taken from him.

"Yeah, why don't we go and talk this out, Shaw?"

Ramsey gasped behind them and Dom patted Shaw on the back, sending him the luck he'll need. Roman poked Tej on the arm again, Hobbs chuckled from not so far away.

Deckard Shaw must have fucked up big time - he himself knew that too. It's been months since she called him Shaw. He was never Shaw, only Deckard or maybe if he was lucky enough, Deck. But he was never ever Shaw.

"All right, let's talk this out, sweetheart."

She hugged herself with her arms, not giving him the opportunity to hold onto her hand. Deckard didn't try to do so though, he understood where the line was and he didn't want to overstep it.

They walked to the other side of the roof, away from their gazes and voices, and only then did her eyes start to water.

Deckard wasn't good at apologies, but even he knew that's the time for one. She's hurt and rightfully so, but he didn't mean to hurt her at all. God, he'd go to Hell and back for her and he knew she'd do the same - they knew more than a few things about the other and they liked the other even if they don't like many people.

But now she's sad and hurt - and angry, because of Deckard and he didn't know what he should do to make it better.

"Sweetheart, I-"

"No, don't you fucking sweetheart me." Sweetheart was the petname Deckard saved for her and didn't use it on anybody else. "I thought you died, do you know how that feels? I thought you fucking died!" she grabbed onto the railing to try and regain her strength. "Do you know that I cried for you? I fucking cried for you. I almost went after Dom by myself to hurt him like he hurt me and Dom is my friend!"

He put his hand on her shoulder and she let him, but she didn't look at him at all.

"And then you just call me to tell me everything is okay, I- I don't know what hurt more: that you didn't tell me or that you don't trust me enough to tell me stuff like that."

"I trust you. I trust you and I don't trust anybody else." Deckard touched both of her shoulders to turn her towards him.

He expected her to be angry or sad, he even expected a punch to the face, like when she playfully hit him after a way too bad one liner on a mission. But she didn't do any of that.

No, she was crying. And if Deckard was bad at apologies, then he was even worse at comforting crying women - especially someone he genuinely cares about.

"Why didn't you tell me not to worry?" her voice was high pitched, the kind Deckard hadn't heard before. She never cried. He hadn't seen her cry.

He made her cry.

"Because I needed her to believe it."

It was a poor excuse. He knew it - she knew it.

Yet it was still better than not saying anything or him just saying a 'fuck you'.

"So you're okay? Not even a small cut?" she asked looking at his face, trying to find some scars.

"You know me, sweetheart." he smiled and she was the only one who has ever seen him smile. "And I know you too, so if you'll punch me please tell me so I can get ready."

She chuckled. "Because?"

"Because your punches are really fucking strong."

That was the kind of compliment Deckard Shaw gave her, the kind only she recieved and no one else. And she smiled at that too, even if her eyes were still teary and the pain and fear didn't fully go away.

"I don't want to punch you."

"Really?" he had a suspicion that she really wanted to.

"Really. I just got you back and you want me to hurt you straight away?"

"I'd let you and I'd deserve it too."

He really meant that, she thought as she examined his face, trying to find some dishonesty. She couldn't find any - but to her surprise, his eyes were soft. There was some softness in there, the kind no one's ever seen, because they didn't deserve to see it.

"No, just..." she wiped away the tears and pushed his hands off her shoulders as she leaned against the railing. "I just want you to promise me that you'll tell me- the next time, because in a job like ours there will be a next time for sure."

"Yeah, I promise."

She smiled softly, her wrath slowly disappearing and tiredness took its place. She looked tired.

"You know, we never really talk about it, but just so you know, you mean a lot to me." she said quietly, as if she's confessing something she's not ready for yet. "And I mean it. I really do. No joke or anything."

"I know." he really knew, and he also knew that not many people would do that for him. "And I'd kill for you."

"I know, you already did." she chuckled. "And not even once."

"They deserved it."

"In your eyes everyone deserves to die who looks at us the wrong way." she said remembering all the times Deckard decided to pull out a gun to shoot someone who was unfriendly. "Actually, I'm surprised Hobbs is still with us."

"I promised to fight him one day."

"Yeah, I'm not surprised about that at all." she looked at the others who sat around the table talking. "You'd win."

"I know I would."

"But he'd kick your ass too. He asked me if I want him to do that after the stunt you pulled. I said I'd think about it."

"And what do you think?"

"You'd deserve it, but I'm leaning towards a no."

Deckard laughed and so did she. It was good to laugh with him again.

They stayed quiet after that. She didn't know what else to say or rather how she should talk about the things she should definitely talk about. She thought of the last few hours and days, how Letty was there for her after Deck's fake death - and what they talked about. How she regretted not telling him the things she wanted to.

"I didn't mean it like that." she spoke up after a while. "When I said you mean a lot to me." she had his full attention, she knew it and felt it in his gaze. "I meant that I think about you as more than a friend."

She continued to look at her friends again, watched as they laughed and talked. Dom had his son in his arms and Roman and Tej were arguing again. She focused on every small detail instead of looking Deck in the eyes.

"I know what you meant sweetheart. That's what I meant when I said I'd kill for you." she had to look at him when his hand was on hers. "I just can't let them see me as a softie, can I?"

He was teasing her and he was grinning, and in that moment for her he was the most lovable, playful asshole in the whole world.

"You dick!" she shouted with a laugh as she hit his arm and she felt the others' eyes on herself. "You come back from the dead and you act like this? I should let Hobbs kick your ass. Being soft with me is the least you can do to apologize."

"I knew you wanted to hit me."

She hit him on the arm again - this time the both of them were grinning like idiots and she wouldn't have it any other way.

"Of course I do. This is the worst love confession I've ever seen."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way."

"That's right, I wouldn't. I'd be way too bored without you in my life."

This time he caught her arm before it could land and his hold on her wrist was gentle. That hand could kill and punch - and he looked damn good when he did that -, but it would never ever hurt her. Not intentionally.

They both leaned in to kiss the other - and they most likely argued about who had the balls to initiate the first kiss later. It was a great kiss, a damn good one. The one what's full of passion and emotion, the one that made her stomach tighten.

"I love you, you idiot, but if you act like you're dead in front of me ever again I--" he kissed her again to shut her up.

"I love you too."

"So much for not being a softie." she giggled as she hugged him, hiding her face from everyone - because she was grinning like an idiot in love.

"You won't let this one go, will you?"

"Not at all." she answered. "By the way, just so you know, Dom wasn't the only one who called your mother."

"You did not call my mother."

"I didn't want to punch you, but she'll definitely scold you for me."

She smirked as she saw his expression. "You're one evil woman."

"But you wouldn't have me any other way." she quoted.

On the other side of the roof the table was set a long time ago and everyone was waiting for the two of them to join in so they can start to eat. Although watching the drama before eating wasn't too bad either.

"You know, as much as I dislike him, I'm happy she's happy." Ramsey said after the pair kissed.

"I was right man, I really didn't want to see that." it was Tej's turn to poke Roman, who only stared at Deckard and her in disbelief.

"I expected more drama." Rome said with clear disappointment in his voice. "And why is she in love with the guy? What does he have that I don't?"

"Why don't you go ahead and tell that to him yourself. I'm sure he'd happily answer you with a punch." Tej teased him with a grin. "Go ahead boss, ask him."

"I hate you all..."

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

XD @flurraz that's brilliant- clothing montage at the Carmine Compound!!!!

but it’s just Clara and Odette holding various weapons up next to Vaggie while their new adopted little sister scowls at her reflection and repeatedly says “NO” to the even more scowling reflection of their mom behind her

Vaggie: “Yeah no. I’m not wielding that.”

Clara: “It has spikes!”

Odette: “And hand protection.”

Clara: “And SPIKES.”

Vaggie: “Great, I could stab myself while swinging it around.”

Carmilla: “Only if you are terrible at it.”

Vaggie: (glaring) “Well I already know I’m not terrible with my spear, so I’m sticking with that.”

Carmilla: (Glowers) (goes back to pretending to check weapon schematics)

Odette: (ticks off failure on clipboard) “Sticking... or skewering?”

Vaggie: “Ha ha, very funny.”

Odette: (ticks off another point for herself on a little odette vs sisters score board)  

Clara: (rummaging in crate) “This isn’t funny and you guys shouldn’t be laughing.” (holds up new weapon) “Now THIS goes with your hair.”

Vaggie: “You’re kidding.”

Clara: “No kiddo, you’re kidding yourself if you think the long-ass shaft of a spear makes sense with a do that lovely and flowing.”

Vaggie: “What the fuck does that-”

Odette: “She’s right.” (makes new score board clara vs vaggie with one point to clara)

Clara: “No wonder you had trouble sparring with mom. Like, more that you would’ve had normally.”

Vaggie: “I haven’t been in a real fight in years okay!”

Carmilla: “It shows.”

Vaggie: “I’m. Working on it. I was one of that asshole’s best Exorcists once, I can-”

Carmilla: “Be better than that, hopefully.”

Vaggie: “Thanks.” (GLARES)

Clara: “All I’m saying is- no point fighting against yourself too, right? How hard did you have to focus to keep the stupid butt end from tangling in your hair?”

Vaggie: “I’m NOT cutting it.”

Clara: “Who’s asking?” (dangles weapon enticingly) “Look! Your new best friend!”

Vaggie: “A gun.”

Clara: “I know I know- you like sharp things and staby stuff, but look!”

Clara: (twirls gun dramatically)

Clara: “It has a knife on iiiiiit~”

Odette: “It would also not interfere with your hair.”

Vaggie: “I don’t know shit about guns.”

Clara: “What’s to know? Point and shoot. AND it’s got more reach than a spear! Which is good ‘cause you’re hair might be long, but the rest of you?” (rests elbow on vaggie’s shoulder) “Rest of you kinda comes up short.”

Vaggie: (grinding her teeth) “THANKS.”

Odette: (ticks another point for clara)

Clara: “Wait- You’ll take it!?”

Vaggie: “No.”

Odette: (ticks another failure) “Why not.”

Vaggie: "Oh wow I don't know maybe because-"

Vaggie: (ticks off reason on hand) “With a spear I have to choose every skewering I do and it’s a lot harder to miss and stick the wrong person. Even if I throw it it's only gonna go so far or through so many people. A bullet can go anywhere once it’s loose. If your aim is off by a centimeter that little thing goes wide. Maybe don't give the gun to the woman with a missing eye??? Definitely not when there are moving targets and things around she ISN'T supposed to shoot?"

Clara: "Oh riiiiight." (looks from gun to vaggie's eyepatch) "Huh."

Carmilla: (not looking up) "You were very accurate during our little play fight."

Odette: "I confirm. I've watched the security footage. I'm sure you could compensate."

Vaggie: "Well I'm not. I’m trying to protect my girlfriend and our friends and kill angels. I'm not not in this fight to ACCIDENTALLY kill someone.”

Carmilla: (smiles)

Clara: “Uh-huh. You like being close enough to catch all that blood splatter, don’t you.”

Vaggie: “…it’s just a perk.”

Carmilla: (smiles wider)

Clara: “Ew.”

Odette: “Impractical.” (adds ‘deranged’ to list of new sister’s traits, right under ‘gay’) “Mother, tell her she’s being weird.”

Carmilla: “I fight people with ballet, I’m afraid the toe of judgement I’m balanced upon is rather precarious.”

Vaggie: (SMIRKS) “Pretty badass though.”

Carmilla: “I know.”

Clara: “OH-!”

Clara: (disassembles gun) (chucks it) (claps hands) “I GOT IT!”

Vaggie: “What now.”

Odette: “Nothing good, statistically.”

Clara: “MOM! Mom- maybe she needs- You know!” (GRINNING EVILLY) “If the shoe fits….?”

Carmilla: “….Hmm.”

Vaggie: “What.”

Carmilla: (standing up and prowling around vaggie thoughtfully)

Vaggie: “…seriously, what?”

Carmilla: “Would you spin, please.”

Vaggie: (gracefully turns) “You know what I look like, miss Carmine.” (glares at clara) “There’s not much of me to look at anyway.”

Clara: “There’s enough, don’t worry~”

Vaggie: (rolls eye) “Wow. Such praise.”

Carmilla: “Can you stand on one leg without falling, or does the loss of your eye-”

Vaggie: “That’s more distance and depth and stuff.” (tucks one leg) “I’ve figured it out, kinda.”

Odette: “Yes? Constant assessment of changes in size and angle of objects?”

Vaggie: “You got it.”

Odette: “Seems rather strenuous for daily life.”

Clara: “Aww you get headaches or shit?”

Vaggie: “More like just tired. Keeping things in the same place when I can manage it helps a lot. Or it does when no one’s moving the lobby chairs around and then LEAVING them messed up like that anyway, for ME to clean up…”

Clara: “Or stumble into?”

Vaggie: “Whichever comes first.”

Clara: "Ow."

Odette: “So tidiness helps.”

Vaggie: “Yep.”

Odette: “Noted.” (notes it)

Carmilla: “Well you certainly are steady. Excellent posture.”

Carmilla: (leans in)

Vaggie: (leans back to maintain distance) (still on one leg)“Don’t forget confused and slowly losing patience, ma’am.”

Carmilla: “Mm? What? Oh sorry.” (leans back)

Carmilla: “You are a dancer, aren’t you.”

Odette: “...Oh no.”

Clara: “Oh YESSSSS.”

Vaggie: “Yes? Why the- why the fuck is she hiding behind her clip board-”

Odette: “I don’t want to relive my trauma.”

Clara: “I DO!”

Vaggie: “What the fuck does that have to do with me!?”

Clara: “Everything~”

Odette: “It’s about to be YOUR trauma.”

Vaggie: “What does THAT m-”

Clara: “Welcome to the family!”

Vaggie: “I- wh- why’re you making it sound like a THREAT!?”

Carmilla: “Our family is a threat. Now.” (taps heavenly steel ballet slippers together so they chime) “Can you stand en pointe?”

Vaggie: “….”

Vaggie: “….oh HELL no-”

Carmilla: “You already use your training as a dancer in battle. Weaponizing it fully is merely the next step.”

Clara: “Heheh. Step.”

Odette: (marks a point for mom)

Vaggie: “En pointe?” (clutching her spear) “THIS IS THE ONLY POINT I NEED!”

Carmilla: “Clara, fetch the practice slippers.”

Clara: (salutes) “Yes mom!”

Vaggie: “CLARA WAIT!”

Odette: “May mother have mercy on you.” (follows clara towards door)

Vaggie: “NO HEY- pendejo- WHY ARE YOU LEAVING TOO???”

Odette: “I will oversee the rest of the weapon loading. Also, I do not want to witness this, and am escaping.”

Carmilla: (sighs) “Dancing is a passion that is not always passed down from mother to child…”

Odette: “Not willingly anyway. Much like trauma.”

Clara: (out of sight) “I liked my trauma!”

Vaggie: “I’ve already got some, I don’t need more!”

Carmilla: “But you do not have your order of weapons yet. It will take half an hour to finish bringing out stock, checking each weapon for readiness, and crating them up again. Plenty of time for a little… assessment.”

Vaggie: (folds wings around herself) (backs away) “I’ve- dancing’s just a hobby, I’m, not even that good-”

Carmilla: “Your lies are terrible. Your form is perfect.”

Vaggie: “I’ve only danced for FUN!”

Carmilla: “And is not battle fun for you? The rush, the deadly interplay of partners you know so briefly and so intimately, to move in response and shape their own movements with yours?”

Vaggie: “…. I also like stabbing people!”

Carmilla: “Choreography for a spear. An interesting challenge.”

Vaggie: “Is this part of the deal for getting weapons from you, or-”

Carmilla: “Yes.”

Vaggie: “-en la madre…. fiiiiine.”

Carmilla: “You will submit to a small rehearsal?”

Vaggie: “Whatever.”

Carmilla: “Good. Now tuck those wings away.”

Vaggie: “Won’t I do better with-”

Carmilla: “You are more used to moving without them now, they're very nearly throwing off your balance. That, on top of your long hair, we do not have time to contend with.”

Vaggie: “But-”

Carmilla: “Fight without wings and keep them in reserve or cut your hair. Your choice.”

Vaggie: “…I guess.. keeping them as a surprise makes sense…”

Carmilla: “And you like having long hair, I know.”

Vaggie: “It’s whooshy.”

Carmilla: “Regardless, you will also at least be tying it back.”

Vaggie: (glowering) “Yes mom.”

Carmilla: “….”

Vaggie: “…”

Vaggie: “Ma’am I said ma’am.”

Carmilla: “I’m sure you did.” (turning away) (hiding smile) "Now. What always comes first?"

Vaggie: (sighing) (resigned) "Stretches..."

[cdroloisms]

thinking about c!dream earlier on in the server just makes me sad man. like, c!dream has never been a perfect character. he's always been flawed, always been a bit of an asshole, always had control issues. but also he knew that. he tried to work on that. he and tommy were friends, despite being flawed people with their own issues that would bump into conflicts because of the ways that they differed. c!dream tried, god, he tried; he wasn't even on the server, when the drug van happened, and walked into a place with someone who was practically a stranger to him building a wall and calling for war and having turned half the people dream knew against him, apparently, for no reason that he could've known at the time, and he had looked straight at tommy and tubbo and asked if that was what they really wanted when wilbur told them that there was no such thing as dual citizenship. he tells tommy when he has to sell a disc for spirit's leather even though tommy had surrendered the discs to him at the end of the revolution because he knows it'll matter to him. he and tommy truce, multiple times, and c!dream gets tangled into conflicts that literally don't involve him repeatedly and gets targeted Because He's Dream repeatedly and he plays along with that trivia contest and he gives gifts to fundy and tommy after terrorizing them a little for fun and he plays along with the dreamon thing and he keeps getting pulled into fights that weren't his but tries to make them a little more fair when they get him involved. he fucks around with tommy and they have fun, they're friends, and when he and wilbur look like they're in danger dream is one of the first to find them and lend them real, practical, valuable aid. he calls himself "Big D" in that book and he tells the man that wrote him as a tyrant that he doesn't want to be a villain in the story anymore. he asks tommy if he's okay, and watches that kid's back when he walks alone and unarmed into manberg, and fights with him at the battle of the lake and all of that is thrown back in his face as being a lie. half the intial community structures that exist were built by him; the community house, the nether portal and hub, the prime path. during a time where every other piece of leverage got burned or killed (rip the casualties of the pet war), dream was kind of known for being one that could be fairly traded with, that would minimize permanent damage. the kills in the final control room were originally to strip lmanburg of their gear, which he had kept in a chest so it could be returned to them after the war.

like no c!dream isn't perfect at the beginning of the server. yes he's kind of a jerk sometimes, kind of an asshole sometimes, kind of neurotic most of the time. but god dammit like c!dream does try to mitigate the worst of his control issues, when they flare up early on; the initial disc war ends with tommy getting his discs back as well as a stack of diamonds, in exchange for a netherite chestplate. he's a flawed character and he's still someone pretty friendly on the whole to most of the server, he's also kind of just known for being a little weird. he gives gifts randomly. he fixed creeper holes, and houses, and went along with bits. like whatever im a c!drolo c!dream woobifier and i admit it lol but for as much evil as he ends up doing, pretty damn consistently early on, he's . friendly? kind? funny? helpful? their neighbor. their friend. c!dream isn't just some stranger that flew off the handle; he's someone they knew and lived with who had his actions taken in bad faith because the goddamn story said so and kept fucking trying anyway until he believed the lie too. like he was just a guy!! a guy they knew and lived with!!! like my god

[enigma-the-mysterious]

AITA for trying to accomplish my father's dreams and hurting my best friend in the process?

Alright, here we go. So, I (30M) have been working on a pretty intense task for the last few years. I made a promise to someone very dear to me—my father, to be exact—that I would do whatever it takes to accomplish it. To do this, I had to take some drastic steps. We’re talking undercover stuff, working within a system that’s more rotten than an overripe jackfruit, all to get closer to taking down the enemy from the inside.

To accomplish this mission, I needed a special promotion. I have been putting myself through hell and back, but those racist assholes at higher up kept passing over me to promote Mediocre White Dude #57. Then a few months ago, I finally, FINALLY made some solid progress when my boss's wife guaranteed me the promotion if I could track down and arrest some anonymous dude who was proving to be a security issue for my boss. Pretty straightforward, right?

Now here’s the issue. At about the same time a few months ago, I met this guy; let’s call him A (26M) for now. My work-life balance had honestly been, well, shitty to say the least, thanks to my father's mission, and I barely had the time to socialize and make any meaningful connections in the city I moved in. Meeting with A had been a chance encounter too. Long story short, we clicked instantly and became fast friends. He is a great guy all around— smart, funny, passionate, good natured, kind, helpful— just about everything you can possibly wish for in a friend (although he could be a little naive sometimes).

But here’s the kicker: a few days earlier, I found out that A has been lying to me about... basically EVERYTHING! ALL this time. He is not from the city; the people he claimed to be his family are not even related to him. Even his name isn't A, it's B! But what's worse is that he is exactly the guy I was supposed to arrest. And he was on a mission too. Except his mission was not targeting my boss, it was to rescue someone— his sister M (9F) to be exact— my boss and his wife had kidnapped and enslaved (long story). Yup, that’s right, we were on opposite sides without even realizing it.

Things escalated quickly. I... well… I had to make a choice. I chose to betray him to keep up my own cover and stick with my father's mission. And yeah, it was brutal— there was a literal fight to the death involved. I tried to convince him at first to surrender without fighting, but of course B didn't listen and refused to back down. I can’t even begin to explain how much it hurt to turn on someone I came to respect, even love…. uhh…. like a brother, of course.

And then, to rub salt to the wound, once I arrested him, my boss (FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK HIM FUCK DIE BITCH) ordered me to flog B publicly till he fell to his knees and begged for mercy. Yeah, those were his exact words, that bastard! I felt like I had no choice, so I did what I was told. And it was one of the worst days of my life. I kept asking B to kneel so I could end the torture, but he is one stubborn and tough motherfucker and decided he would rather suffer through a public torture session than kneel. My dickface boss and his bitch wife weren't satisfied with how little blood I was drawing out of B, so they kept escalating the torture until B couldn't take it anymore and fell unconscious.

I ended up hurting him so badly, both physically and emotionally. It is fucking me up, honestly. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't even get out of my bed right now. I honestly feel like dying.

So, AITA for betraying and hurting my best friend to accomplish my father's mission? I did what I thought was necessary to save countless lives, but I can’t shake the feeling that maybe I went too far.

Edit: No, B did not know that I worked for the people who kidnapped his sister. He did not befriend me to take advantage of my position, as some of you have been implying. He did not, I repeat, he did NOT betray me. If anyone has betrayed and wronged him, it's me!

Edit 2: No, I didn't tell B my real intentions and my father's mission. Didn't you read the post? I am working UNDERCOVER!

[shadowqueenjude]

Azriel stood there silently, staring at Rhysand as he gave him instructions.

“So, are you ok with it? Dealing with Eris?”

Now, Azriel was no political expert, but he didn’t see how this could possibly work. “You do remember the High Lord meeting, right?”

Rhysans shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. “So?”

Azriel’s shadows swirled agitatedly around him. “Where I, you know, tried to strangle him?”

Rhysand snorted. “Helion was into it, you know.”

Azriel bared his teeth at Rhysand. “Is there anything that man isn’t into? The point is, I hate him and I’m sure Eris feels the same way about me. It’ll be a disaster. Besides, I am no courtier.”

Rhysand slammed his hand on the table, leaning forward. His violet eyes were filled with rage. “You will do as I say, Azriel. Mor is in Vallahan, and after the Nesta incident, we cannot use Cassian anymore. After Solstice, one would think you’d have stopped trusting yourself to make intelligent decisions.”

Azriel blushed, but he sent all his raging back at Rhysand. “Fine,” he grumbled under his breath. “I’ll do it.” Not like he would’ve dared disobeying Rhysand anyway.

“Good. I accept a full report by midweek.”

Azriel spent the next few days researching the Autumn Court with the help of his good friend Gwyn. She was very helpful and clearly very clever, but no one could cram this much knowledge into a few days. Whatever. Perhaps he’d just kill Eris for good this time. What did they even need him for anyway? The image of Mor nailed to the border of Autumn caused his hands to clench into fists.

Prick. Cunt. Asshole.

It didn’t matter how many names Azriel called Eris; it didn’t change the deadline fast approaching. Fuck. What would Azriel even say? He was no good at this shit. He scribbled down a few opening lines on a piece of paper that he shoved into his pocket, trying to soothe his anxiety. He felt naked without his usual Illyrian leathers, dressed in a black and gold doublet which was so far out of the realm of something he would wear. This seemed ostentatious even for Rhysand, but something that Eris would approve of. Yuck.

Azriel’s shadows tried to send him soothing thoughts and words, one of them going so far as to caress his cheek. Azriel slapped it away.

It’ll be ok, Azriel. Just stick to the script.

Azriel melted into shadow and reappeared at the meeting location. All words emptied out of his head, filled with only a pounding rage that saw a vulnerable target that ought to be taken out. Azriel walked towards him silently, blending into the shadows. On the last few steps, Azriel leapt at Eris, who whipped his head around so fast that Azriel didn’t see it coming.

Eris blasted him back with fire, pinning him to the ground in orange-red manacles. Azriel’s shadows swirled around him maniacally as Eris smirked at his supine form. His body glowed with an aura of flame, a sound like crackling embers emanating from his form. Such a contrast to his dark, silent form made to blend in.

“They didn’t send the general this time?” Eris crooned. Cassian. Azriel gave away nothing. Eris pulled out a dagger- Nesta’s Made dagger- and began cleaning his nails. “Well, thank the Mother for that. Perhaps you, at least, will speak like someone who has had an education.”

Azriel scowled. “You know just as well as I that I possess no political acumen.”

Eris shrugged, that smirk not leaving his face. “Worry not, shadowsinger. The bar is…exceptionally low.”

Eris had the ability to turn a compliment into an insult with the slightest turn of phrase. It rankled Azriel, who struggled against his chains of flame, trying to sneak his way out.

Eris tsked. “Already sick of me, Illyrian brute? My my, you lot have no stamina,” he drawled. He conjured a chair and sat on it, facing his prisoner. “Any news from Night, Azriel?”

Azriel kept his mouth shut. He wasn’t about to reveal precious information without Eris giving something as well.

Eris chuckled. “See?” he crooned. “Already better than Cassian. He would’ve been spilling everything to me before I even had the chance to ask.”

A mocking compliment, but Azriel couldn’t deny that some part of him relished being better than Cassian. Cassian, who’d slept with his love Mor out of jealousy. Cassian, who Feyre, Rhysand, and Mor all preferred to him. Cassian, who had an Archeron mate while he did not.

“What is happening with your father,” Azriel asked flatly. Eris’s smile faded. “Lucien and I exchanged some information while I visited Spring. You’ve stationed him there for the time being, yes?”

Azriel clenched his teeth and nodded. Eris continued, “He told me that Tamlin and Tarquin intended to start relocating Spring Court refugees in Summer back to Spring, and well…it seems that somehow my father has gotten word of it.” He fixed his piercing amber eyes on Azriel. “My father intends to infiltrate the refugee train. Spark violence there. I’m sure his goal is to take down Spring and Summer in one swoop.”

Cold trickled down Azriel’s spine. The Hybern war had left them all vulnerable, and it seemed that Beron would stop at nothing to obtain all of Prythian for himself.

“Then you must know,” Azriel said quietly. “We had an intergalactic visitor recently.”

Eris’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, the only sign of his surprise. “What?”

“It seems that there are some who have the ability to travel through worlds,” Azriel continued. “The girl who came…she has revived the Dusk court. Beron may be coming after that abandoned land too, and he may be seeking allies outside of this world. Allies far more formidable than even Koschei.”

Eris scrubbed his face, true emotion shining in there for once: worry. “This is crucial information. Thank you for telling me, shadowsinger. I must return home straight away.”

Taken aback by the abrupt announcement of his departure, Azriel whispered, “How are we going to stop him?”

Eris smiled, though it didn’t meet his eyes. “Trust me, shadowsinger. I’ve been dealing with him for centuries.” Then, to Azriel’s eternal shock, Eris knelt before him, his eyes searching and open, his face soft. He pressed his hand to Azriel’s cheek, bending his face over so that their lips were centimeters apart.

“I look forward to working with you more often, shadowsinger,” Eris murmured, and Azriel felt his breath against him. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe until Eris stood up and winnowed away.

The manacles disappeared with Eris. Azriel got up, brushing the dirt off of his clothing. He cursed himself for letting him get so close, for letting him affect him so, for not being more vicious.

He hated that he liked Eris Vanserra more than his own found family.

For Day 1 of @azrisweek contrasts

also tagging @hieragalbatorixdottir

[soubi122]

His Afterthought

Nothing hurts more than being his afterthought. Characters: Ran, Izana, Sanzu, Hanma, Taiju, South + your favorite assholes lol (does Dabi fit? i just started watching My Hero Academia)

Let me know who your favorites are that fit this scenario.♥️

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, they are jerks, 'friend with benefits', one sided love, no comfort.

Seeing him always made your heart flutter. The way he'd kiss you, touch you and fucked you into the mattress - it was heaven. He'd come to your door well into the night only to get what he wants. Whether he's drunk or not, he always finds a way to destroy you inside and out. Only after he's finished with you does it leave you feeling empty inside. The numbness creeped up on you by the time he shut the door behind him. 

Though he has no romantic feelings for you, he still knocked on your door, he still made you his, he made your heart ache and flutter at the same time. Outside of these 4 walls, you were merely friends and he was free to choose any other woman - but if things didn't work out, he always back tracked. 

With your face pressed against the mattress you could barely breathe as he thrusts his hips into you. A fist full of your hair was tangled between his fingers, he pressed your head harder into the sheets. He was angry and you could feel it. Those feral grunts rumbled in his chest and almost drowned out your own muffled moans. 

“Bitch couldn't even be honest with me.” He says between thrusts. Whatever little relationships he had didn't last, they broke things up when they met the rest of the gang. It was understandable, you were either going to accept him no matter what and become a target or leave it all behind - including him. The girls would opt to leave everything behind, not even giving him a chance to get comfortable. 

“She…fuck…said she didn't care as long as I… Mmh…” He trails off as he feels himself getting closer. The way you would always clench around his length when he was angry, it drove him mad. Despite having women bow at his feet, he hasn't found anyone else to replace this feeling. No one readily opened their door for him like you did, always ready for him - he didn't even need to prep you. Your body already knows what to do when it sees him. 

Your core was burning and reaching its limit. “Ngh…too much! Slow down! Please! Please!” You squeal and try to break free from his grasp. With one hard yank of your hair, he had you up on your knees and your back arching for him. His free hand grips your waist so hard that it was leaving marks, he wasn't letting you go. Tears were now running down your face as he sent you straight to your maker. Your legs were shaking and your moans were now screams of pure pleasure. “Fuck…fuck…” He moans as his pace gets sloppy and he reaches his limit. 

You're both left panting and barely able to catch your breath. Collapsing into the mattress, you take a moment to prepare yourself for what follows next - his leave. “You're such a good little slut.” He says with a smug smirk. His words hurt yet you feel satisfaction at him praising you. By the time you look over your shoulder, he was already getting dressed. “You can stay the night you know… It’s really late.” You say and sit up, using the bed sheet to cover yourself up, the sight in front of you always makes your heart break. You knew there was no point, the man is the danger that lurks in the night.

Without even acknowledging you he begins to walk out the door. “Bye!” You say with venom on your tongue and he waves you off. You throw yourself back into the mattress and clutch your chest, you were tired of this routine yet you always gave into him. You couldn't say no, he was like a drug, a neurotoxin that just numbs your body. It was getting harder to hide your feelings for him. There have been times when you've slipped and end up reprimanded or embarrassed because you didn't know your place. Maybe it was time for you to look for someone who will actually stay the night. 

Several days passed and he hadn't called, texted or even stopped by. Did he really get upset at you for asking for him to stay the night? You checked your phone every couple hours to see if he'd planned to stop by. It was just silent. 

A few days later, you're out on an errand when you run into him, however he's not alone. A woman is draped around his shoulder and a stinging sensation begins to grow in your heart. Remembering your place, you only glance at him - making brief eye contact and don't really acknowledge him. It's a moot point to even do so, the unfazed look on your face hid the cracks that were beginning to spread from your heart. Opting to turn around and avoid getting any closer, you turned on your heels and took another route home. You knew better. It’s always like this. Sleep together, satisfy his urge and he disappears.

The moment you came home, you put everything away and did the rest of the errands so that you could keep your mind busy. However, once the sun set and the light faded - you felt yourself slowly slipping. Pacing your apartment a few times until you settled on the couch, the moment you sat down you felt it. The pain in your chest was slowly getting stronger. It was always like this, the loneliness, the sadness, the ache in your heart that couldn’t be soothed away by anything or anyone. Hot tears were now streaming down your face, you hated it. You hated the pathetic feeling of jealousy and love. As much as you wanted to deny this feeling, you knew in your heart that you loved him. There have been times when you've doubted these feelings, trying to convince yourself that it's only physical, that he doesn’t see you as anything more than just a fuck buddy. A convenient pussy to use and abuse.

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 7

/ yoongi / suga / agust d

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty at times. Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

You blinked very fast. Your thoughts were all over the place. Keeping your gaze on the KCIA badge you took a deep breath and mumbled “Yea… it does look like we need to talk…” trying to gather yourself, you turned to face the kind eyed man.

This was the moment he should start explaining, because you sure as hell had no idea what the actual fuck was going on.

He let out a long, quiet sigh, keeping his eyes on the road. “So… I am well aware you normally would not have anything to do with a gang, if it wasn’t for your reckless friend…” he started. “But… our target isn’t really the whole group. I mean yea, they are dangerous, cause some havoc but… they are also a well know danger… they keep the product they sell clean and such… yes it is bad, but how to say it? A evil you know is better than anything unknown and out of control right?”.

You tried to follow his logic, one questing popping into your head - then why was he even there? As if reading your mind he explained “We are fishing for the police… we have known the department has gotten very dirty in the recent years… and we are collecting enough evidence to be sure to take that scum down…” he turned his eyes to the road again waiting for you to slowly take in the information he has dropped on you.

You shake your head a bit and then look up as if asking the universe why the fuck this is all happening. “So… let me guess… my fiancé happens to be on the list…”. Jimin sighed and slowly nodded his head, clicking his tongue he looked at you for a second. “Listen… I know this is all a lot to take in… especially that your fiancé is an absolute dick… but… I assume you’d have nothing against putting his ass behind bars right?”.

You look at the man sitting next to you and try to think of an answer. In all honesty you would gladly have Hobi suffer since you found out not only is he dirty but also a cheater. The fact you slept with Agust-D did not seem like proper justice for the fact that asshole ruined all those years of your life. But having him locked up seemed like some kind of karma.

“Yea… I would not mind that at all…” you paused for a while and then asked “So… let me take a guess. You would love to have a spy in me huh?”. Jimin cleared his throat quietly, clearly not expecting you to be this blunt. “I won’t lie… it would probably make things easier… I believe you could fish out some important intel for us…”

Without much hesitation you say “Ok. Count me in then, as long as me and my friend Jungkook are not dragged into whatever consequences this shitshow brings…” the hazy eyed man slightly looks at you and nods “Of course… you will be my informant so I will make sure your demands are met…” you roll your eyes a bit not enjoying the fact once again you have been put in a peculiar spot.

You asked to be dropped off a couple of blocks before your building. Your neighborhood was safe enough for you to walk back and you sure as hell would not wan’t Hoseok seeing you get dropped off by Jimin.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

You will have to lie, pretend and play games with Hobi. It was not something you ever would see yourself doing but given the circumstances, you did not have many options in order to receive some sort of justice for yourself. The worst part being that you had to pretend you have no idea about what he did and that you are still oh so blindly in love with him, when in reality all you wanted is to beat him into a pulp for wasting all those important years of your life.

Walking in slowly into your apartment you gently closed the doors hoping that if your fiancé was there you would not wake him up. Looking around you saw his jacket and sighed. Luck was not on your side. It seemed that you were gonna have to deal with his company sooner then later.

You made your way passed the opened bedroom doors, making sure to be quiet and to get you the chance to sleep on the couch, but no, you had to be shit outta luck. “Y/N? Hun? That you?” you swore in your head and barely controlled your impulse to punch the wall. Silently clearing your throat you said “Yea… it’s me… I went out with Kookie and some other coworkers… since you said you would be home late again…” you lied threw your teeth.

A sound of the bed covers rustling hit your ears. You knew he was getting up, so you put your best pretend happy tipsy face on. Right then you saw him stand in the door and lean on the frame with a slightly sleepy face. He smiled at you and came up taking your hand in his. “Mmm… I’m sorry I am having to work so much lately babe…” you nodded your head afraid that if you spoke that moment he would pick up your pure rage.

After a second you gathered yourself “It’s fine, we both have jobs that can occupy us at times…” wrapping his arms around you he kissed your shoulder “What did I do to deserve such a woman?” you forced a giggle. “Can I make it up to you Y/N? Hmmm?” he hummed in a low voice pulling at your waistband. You laughed lightly and gave him a peck in the nose saying “we can discuss that after I take a shower and you make breakfast.”

He mumbled slightly disappointed but made his way to the kitchen, you on the other hand got into the bathroom. You stood there looking at your reflection in the big mirror questioning all your life decisions and if you should have ever moved to Korea. You turned on the water for it to warm up. You needed a hot shower to was off all the strain from your muscles.

Suddenly your phone rang causing you to jump up. Looking at the screen you could see a no caller ID show up. Normally you would ignore such a call but something in you gave you a hunch. Picking up the phone you quietly answered. “Hello?” you heard a deep sigh on the other side of the line and then the well know gravely voice “Didn’t take you would be the type to sneak out at dawn?” your heart clenched and then started beating like crazy. You could feel your body getting tense.

“And I wouldn’t think you’d be the type to be bothered by such a thing… I would think you’d appreciate it…” he chuckled, you could almost see him shaking his head in amusement “Nah… I was thinking of round two for breakfast…” you sigh grabbing the tip of your nose. This was all one big mess. “I have a fiancé…” you muttered hoping this would salve it and make him cancel the call, but instead he laughed loudly “Oh… I know you do and I ain’t bothered babe, because I know now when he fucks you, you’ll be thinking of me and all I can do to you”. His words rendered you speechless “Mmm just what I thought. You’ll be coming back for more Y/N and oh I will give it to you…” and at that he ended the call.

Standing there and looking at your cellphone you were trying collect yourself. This fucking cocky bastard was so sure you’d be coming back to him. “You wish… we will see who’s left begging…”

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missusally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804

[hyperfixationsporfavor]

Buried Alive (Gojo x Geto)

Author's note: Hey lovely readers. This fic is based off of the basement au created by @sadbenedict

Please go checked out their amazing work.

Synopsis: Gojo spares Geto from death, opting for something more infinite.

Warnings: Thoughts of self harm, self harm, unhealthy relationships

“Suguru?” Satoru softly asked.

His ex kept his back turned, staring blankly at the old tv Satoru had found tucked away in storage. The only thing it could play was vhs tapes, mostly old sitcoms. So the silence was occasionally broken by a laugh track. 

“Suguru?” he asked again.

The laugh track played again, no response.

Satoru sighed in defeat. “I’ll be back soon, okay?”

He left without saying another word. 

~

Satoru’s life was a little fucked up at the moment. 

And if he stopped to think about it for more than a few seconds he’d probably go insane. 

For starters, Suguru Geto, his ex, had managed to take out an entire village and put a target on his back by the age of seventeen. Then, he disappeared off the face of the planet, only to reemerge with a new purpose, new loved ones. 

It destroyed Satoru. His first heartbreak. 

He had replayed the events over and over again in his head throughout the years. How could he do this? 

Leave him and the people who had loved him the most. Replacing them all. Replacing him. But Satoru could never replace him, and that adoration would destroy them both. 

~

“How old are you?” 

Satoru looked up at the old man behind the counter. He had been coming to the same secondhand store for the last two weeks to get tapes for Suguru, and had managed to catch the shipowner's curiosity. 

“I’m 27,” he answered.

The shop owner furrowed his brow. “Aren’t you a little young to still be buying tapes? Even the old timers don’t bother with this stuff anymore.”

Satoru chuckled and pulled out his wallet. “I guess I just have a hard time letting go.”

~

“Your arm looks good, Geto,” Shoko murmured as she inspected her handiwork.

After the failed christmas eve attack, Satoru had brought him to her office, desperate to heal his broken body. With the aid of reverse cursed technique and the abilities she’d honed in medical school, he was physically perfected. Mentally, that was another story. 

Her former friend looked withered, weighed down under the massive chains Satoru used to hold him down. He was thin from not eating, dark circles under his eyes from not sleeping. 

“Not bad for someone who cheated her way through med school,” he jested. 

“Better than running a ponzi scheme,” she retorted.

“Which I could get back to doing if you broke these chains and let me go,” Suguru suggested.

“Nice try asshole.”

“It was worth a shot.”

Shoko packed up her medical bag, snapping it shut with more gusto than necessary. 

“How long are you going to ice him out?” she asked.

“For however long I’m stuck in this shit hole,” he mumbled.

She sighed, pulling her cigarettes out of her lab coat pocket. 

“I’d offer you a lighter but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

Shoko ignored the quip, fishing a cigarette out of the carton and placing it between her lips, then retrieving her own lighter she always carried on her. 

“That’s alright,” she muttered, her pursed lips balancing the cigarette. “I stopped depending on you a long time ago.”

She left him to ponder that sentiment, it hurt more than he would have liked to admit. 

~

2007

It was scorching outside.

So to alleviate the discomfort from the heat Suguru closed the windows and put his fan on the highest level it could go. 

Satoru later joined him. 

The two of them laid on the floor and stared up at the ceiling while a Weezer cd played. Satoru had ‘borrowed’ it from Ichiji.

“I’ll put it back in his room later,” Satoru lazily assured him.

On an island in the sun

We'll be playing and having fun

And it makes me feel so fine

I can't control my brain

Suguru turned his head to face Satoru, he looked so peaceful at that moment.

It made Suguru feel assured, his feet were firmly on the ground, right here, in this moment, the world was still. 

Satoru smiled. “I know.”

So Suguru closed his eyes, being lulled to sleep from a mixture of heat and music.

But it didn’t matter. 

He was safe here. 

We'll run away together

We'll spend some time forever

We'll never feel bad anymore

“Suguru?”

~

“Suguru?”

Suguru slowly opened his eyes. 

He must have dozed off after Shoko left. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a dream that wasn’t a nightmare. But why have one when he was living in some twisted reality that was more eerie than anything his mind could conjure. 

Satoru set some bags down on the ground and approached him.

“I got some more tapes, books, cassettes, and a few things for dinner.”

Suguru just blankly stared at him, although he found the dream he had just had softened his heart a touch with nostalgia, much to his dismay. Still, he wouldn’t give his captor the satisfaction of being vulnerable with him. 

~

Satoru had bought an assortment of convenience store food, takeout, and a box of Kikufuku from that bakery he was always raging about whenever he went to Sendai on business. Suguru should have been grateful but the glutinous setup made him nauseous. It felt orchestrated to create a well balanced facade. Something that Satoru was determined to perform. 

While he set everything up he told him about what was going on in the world beyond his cell. 

“Yuta’s away with Miguel for the time being. And Megumi seems to be doing well so far.”

He pressed a Kikufuku against Suguru’s mouth, but he kept his jaw wired shut, refusing the gift.

So Satoru set it back down on the plate with the other food that remained untouched. 

“Shoko told me you were in excellent health but you’re still underweight.”

The white haired sorcerer took the box and popped a sweet into his mouth, then another.

“I checked up on the twins while I was out,” he said in between chews. 

Suguru’s throat tightened up, but he remained silent. 

Satoru pulled another sweet out of the box, examining it in the dim light of the cell. 

“These are so good. Are you sure you don’t want one?”

Suguru just glared at him.

Satoru sighed and dropped the uneaten sweet back into the box. 

“I should get going. Megumi’s home alone and-”

“You are unbelievable,” Suguru muttered. 

Satoru tilted his head. “What?”

Suguru scoffed. “You brought up Mimiko and Nanako on purpose. So if you're going to deliver some half baked threat at least have the decency to say it to my face. 

Satoru smiled, a fake one that made him look manic. “Don’t worry. If I wanted those things gone I would have taken care of them a long time ago.”

Suguru clenched his jaw. “If you hurt them-”

“You’ll what?” Satoru simply asked. “What will you do?”

Suguru felt his heart drop. All of a sudden things had become alarmingly more clear. Satoru was gone. And in his place was a monster.

He was the strongest. And everyone else was destined to follow him.

Satoru picked up the uneaten kikufuku and held it towards Suguru.

“Now, are you hungry?”

~

The kikufuku had left a bitter taste in Suguru’s mouth, worse than any curse he had been forced to swallow. 

After Satoru had left he found the taste growing stronger and stronger. 

He wanted to shove his fingers down his throat and throw it all up but he couldn’t with these damn chains around his hands, his feet, his neck. So he grew agitated, agitation morphed into anger, until it reached blinding rage. 

The television played some mind numbing sitcom behind him. About some fake perfect family living their fake perfect life. Someone said an unfunny joke and the laugh track dutifully followed. 

It set him off, so he lunged himself towards the television and slammed his fist through the screen. 

Finally, the laughter stopped, but only momentarily, as it started bubbling out of his lips. 

Suguru pulled his fist out of the broken screen and examined his bloodied hand. And he laughed harder. 

He laughed until he cried. 

Then screamed. 

Then cried again, sinking to the ground. 

No one could hear him in the windowless room below ground. He was buried alive, and no matter how loud he screamed, or cried, or laughed, no one heard. No one except the strongest, Satoru Gojo, his first love, who had kept him here in purgatory. 

He was nowhere. 

And here he would stay. 

~

The End. 

[baejax-the-great]

ao3 exists, plus it doesnt even matter what terms i search for on tumblr 100% of the time theres fanfiction. literally you can search any words on this website and some kpop guy/ reader fanfics flood the results every single fucking time. plus some of us are not here for fandoms??? your circus/clown analogy is stupid

So I'm incredibly allergic to shrimp-- to the point where if I ate a single shrimp I would die, to the point where I don't really consider shrimp food anymore--and it's the weirdest thing, yesterday i went to Target to buy hair conditioner, and they were selling shrimp. Don't they know it wasn't what I was looking for and I can't eat it anyway? Why would they do this? Totally fucked up of those shrimp catchers to try to poison me like that.

But analogies clearly aren't your thing, so let me break this down for you.

AO3 does indeed exist, but your suggestion that fanfic live there and ONLY there is akin to saying that imgur exists, so nobody should be posting images, whether they be photos or art, on any other website. Twitter exists (sort of), so really nobody should be posting shit posts or hot takes that are fewer than 140 characters or whatever.

Not everyone uses AO3. There is no law saying that if you write fanfic, you must post it on AO3 and nowhere else. There will never be a law that says that, because that's not how the internet works. Tumblr, one of the few social media sites that allows longform blogging, is in fact a great alternative to AO3 for one-shots. It's a little trickier for multi-chapter posts, but I've seen people make it work.

AO3 is not social media. People can't DM there, send asks, make friends, bump their post to the top of the feed (unless they are an asshole who is about to get blocked by half of fandom for pulling that move). Do you like social media? I mean you're here, on tumblr, bothering a total stranger, so you must see some value to it. Guess what--fanfic authors also enjoy being on social media and sharing what they've been up to, including their WIPs.

Things you aren't looking for being part of your searches is literally just life on the internet at all times forever. Earlier this month I was looking for a reference of draped fabric for drawing purposes. I googled 'chiton drawing' (chitons like the ancient Greeks used to wear), and all I got were drawings of molluscs of the genus 'chiton.' Alright, I did a google search for "toga drawing" and learned that there is an anime girl named Toga and people very much enjoy drawing her. Were the artists of the molluscs or the anime girl to blame for me having to slog through a bunch of irrelevant pictures to find one that could help me with my drawing? No. They correctly labeled what they were doing. That's just life.

Seeing fanfic in the tag doesn't harm you. At all. It doesn't matter if you find it cringe, or it's a ship you don't like, or it's xReader. For like ten seconds you looked at words you didn't particularly like, and then you moved on. How is that different from literally any other post on tumblr? I see bad takes and essays I don't care about on this site all the time. It's called scrolling. Again, this will be the case for every website on the internet forever. Are you telling me you read every tweet in your feed? Every reddit post? Sometimes you see irrelevant stuff. I guarantee some of my mutuals have already deemed this long ass post irrelevant and are scrolling on by. What makes fiction that much more abhorrent to you than the rest of the nonsense?

If you really hate seeing fanfic, tumblr has content blocking and tag blocking. You can block the phrase "x Reader." You can block the tag "fanfic." You can block all sorts of things, and if that doesn't work, you can just block the writers whose existence annoys you.

Sorry man, you personally not liking fandom and not using tumblr for it has really no bearing on what everyone else is doing. Like it or not, tumblr is a hub of fandom, and fanfic authors are going to be a part of every fandom on this green earth. Just because you came to the circus in order to admire the pretty fabric used on the tents doesn't mean the performers are in the wrong for doing their thing.

[cairavende]

Worm Arc 16 second half thoughts (after Defiant interlude, 16.7 to end):

I'm very glad I split this arc where I did cause WHAT THE FUCK

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

Tattletale . . . the entire time . . . in secret!

And Coil's whole crazy plan at the town hall debate!

And and and Rachel held Taylor's hand and it was gay BUT IT WAS SAD GAY!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And the bug box (I'm sorry, "The Famine Engine") what the fuck

And Taylor was shot and almost lit on fire and she become a fucking terror demon scary bug monster and got away from all the people and set off some grenades and and

passes out

...

ALSO MY DAUGHTER KILLED COIL! SHOT HIM RIGHT IN THE HEAD!

Taylor sees her dad and argues with his friends a little and realizes that things aren't as clear as she thought they were maybe but whatever I just want to get to know Lacey better. For reasons.

I knew something would happen at the town hall. Once Dragon was taken care of I figured it would be Coil but I wasn't sure what he would do and I didn't expect this. I thought he would mostly be trying to take out Skitter or something.

Happy to see Uber and Leet again, even if they are working for the asshole. They are fun.

Getting more info on Leet's power and I'm even more fascinated then I was before. He couldn't make the teleporter work if it was putting the target into instant danger, like a bomb or a vat of acid. Wild. I wanna know more.

ALSO COIL LEGIT CONSIDERED DROPPING SKITTER INTO A VAT OF ACID!

He really did go full supervillain right at the end. Monologuing, using cheesy lines, stopping the execution of his enemies when one of them yells "Wait!" and letting them talk. Crazy elaborate plans. Good for him I guess.

The Wards new "teleport without swapping matter" tech is quite fancy and it can apparently do a heck of a lot of people at once! Which I could see becoming a big deal. I had initially assumed it was Kid Win who made it (since he did the same with is guns before) but with how stuff has bounced around I'm legit not sure.

OH AND I KNEW I LOVED CIRCUS FOR A REASON, WHAT A WONDERFUL LITTLE GENDERQUEER! THEY GET A PASS FOR STABBING SOME PEOPLE CAUSE THEY DESERVE TO GET TO STAB A FEW PEOPLE.

I had fully called Coil being Thomas Calvert by now, so that itself wasn't a surprise. But I hadn't expected Thomas to have gotten back to working with the PRT. Makes sense if he can make it work, that is a wonderful source of power.

Too bad Tattletale pulled the fucking rug out from under you Thomas!

Taylor leaving her dad at the hospital without stopping to see him is unfortunate I guess, but not really unexpected. I've kinda given up on their relationship getting repaired. Besides who needs Danny when shes got me!?

Oh and I guess Taylor can't really see now. Cool. I'm sure that will just get better right away with no issues! /s

I mean it isn't really a huge deal for her vs most people. But still.

OH AND SKITTER'S DEAL WITH COIL WHEN HE WAS GOING TO KILL THEM ALL INCLUDED "Ta

Oh and Skitter's deal with Coil to turn off the dead man's switch included "Take care of Bitch's dogs!" GAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!

And "Tattletale gets to live!" like ya ok sure it was all so she could get Tattletale here and such I get that but whatever, it is also GAY! GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY!!!!!!!!!!

But for real Tats has been coming in with the fucking long con OH MY GOD. I legit didn't see it coming. Coil losing this arc? Sure, maybe not likely but possible. Coil dying? Again, was surprising but not shocking. But Tattletale having payed off have the mercs in a carefully planned coup in the works since Arc 3 at a minimum? Blindsided me. Just hit by a bus. HOLY SHIT!!!

Fake Skitter shot Bitch!!!! AHHHHH!!! But she was ok. And the speed of her accepting that real Skitter didn't do it and not staying mad at her!!!! GAAAAAAAAAAAY!!!

Seriously though Skitter breaking out of the house she was teleported into and getting past all those troops? God. Using the swarm speech for physiological warfare? Chef's kiss

I wonder how Cauldron is feeling with Coil dead? I don't know exactly what they needed him for but he sure ain't doing it now.

And Dinah at the end!! Just me sobbing.

I'm sure the whole thing with Noelle (or should I use my cape name for her when she's on a rampage - Traveler in a Vault, or TiaV) will just blow over and won't be a bigger deal than arc 8 in the end. Everything is fine.

Marquis interlude thoughts:

TINY PRISON! I love tiny prison.

Look I'm sorry I don't make the rules but Marquis and Lung are totally gay for each other. They are both terrible people. I don't ship them because I want to, I ship them because there is no other option. I do what I have to do.

Glaistig Uaine is my new favorite. She is terrifying and I love her. Forget Bonesaw's passangers or Coil's agents, they're called head fairies now.

I'm sure Amy and Glaistig Uaine working together in the future won't be bad at all.

[sunny-mercya]

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

15. Osaka Trip - Survival

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Platonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Masterlist | Previous / Next |

My friend, I can't wait to see you again

You're my hope, you're my everything

We can fly if you believe in my love!

Getting shot two times in a row—even when the bullets were only grazing your right leg and upper arm and missing its target, burying themselves somewhere else deep into—wasn't fun and never would be to remember.

You stumbled a bit, cursing loudly when the pain flared up, but didn't stop in your running. You didn't even know where to run and hide to, not knowing the area—which looked more than just devastated empty of any civilisation—you're in.

Somehow you ended up in the ruins of a empty school—either elementary or middle school—it didn't matter, right now Conan and you needed a place to hide—to catch some breath and rethink of a new tactic to survive this psychopath.

Picking up on your speed, you run inside—trekking the stairs up to the second floor, kicking open one of the classroom doors and ducked inside.

Leaning against the wall, you pulled out your phone, reading Shinichi's SMS once, twice and a third time again.

Dialling your brother's number, holding the phone against your ear, you waited with bated breath for him to pick up—hoping to hear his steady voice of reassurance again.

„Apologies, this number is currently unreachable, please try again later.“

Biting down onto your lip, you slid the wall down—closing your eyes and taking a deep breath—clutching your (f.colour) flip-phone, with its silly keychains and the few even more silly stickers on it, against your chest.

Nothing had actually changed, hasn't it? How desperate stupid could you any more be—believing, especially in that false—hope crushing and heartache bringing—SMS, that Shinichi would come back at all.

Asshole. Asshole, asshole, asshole—Shinichi is such a fucking asshole.

When you needed Shinichi the most—in a situation where you felt nothing but inner turmoil of being anxious scared—he wasn't there.

At least not when it comes to you, because you're certainly sure that he calls Ran—when she's scared—that's Shinichi's only priority, besides solving cases and being a wannabe detective.

»[Name]......?«

»I can't do this, can't do this......it's pointless.....I'm dumb, so fucking dumb....«

»No [Name], don't give up now! We're gonna–argh!« Conan couldn't finish his sentence, feeling a shock of electricity through his body—being grabbed and thrown to the sides.

When Daiki found you and Conan, he had easy play with you—pushing you onto the floor and kicking you against your already bruised stomach and you were like a helpless doll again.

»Mhm, should have destroyed the damned phone right away when I took you. Now, let's see what made you so defiantly.«

Daiki read the SMS, grinning wickedly as he kicked you in the stomach again when you were about to get up. A scoff left his lips, dropping your phone to the ground and stepping onto it—breaking it in half.

»No!« you shouted, looking at him with wide eyes.

The only message you've gotten from Shinichi—ever since his abrupt disappearance—the only sign of him, that he was still alive—still here, somewhere—and hadn't abandoned you—was now crushed like the last bit of hope left in you.

You glanced at Conan, feeling guilty with what you were about to say next—admitting defeat, for once, freely. Though with what Daiki had said next, brought a wave of anger back.

»Hah! You really believed such trash? Please, we both know that your dear brother is nothing but a liar. Don't fool yourself.«

»Shut up.«

»Huh? Repeat that, I didn't quite hear that, dear.«

»Shut the fuck up! Don't you fucking dare calling Shinichi a liar ever again!«

With an uproar you sprung back up, pushing Daiki with full force into the tables and throwing one or two chairs onto him. Grabbing Conan again, holding him against you, you run out into the hallway—overthinking every route of escape you could take and decided for another drastic move.

Setting Conan down, you pulled off your jacket—putting the jacket then onto Conan, hood over his head—and taken him back into your arms.

»What are you doing [Name]?!«

»It's gonna be okay, just close your eyes and hold on tight.» you hugged Conan closer to you, arms secured around him. Taking a deep breath and then you sprinted towards that one window where you knew was a roof overhang below.

Hah! Sport tournament was nothing against a good old jump—through the second floor window, you thought. Picking up on your speed, ignoring the next grazing bullet against your leg, you jumped—twisting your body in a way that your back collided with the window, sending you crashing down onto the tin roof and pressing the air out of your lungs.

The short moment, in your free fall, of where you had seeing a glimpse of the darkening sky above you—reminds you of what you always would fear, death itself.

And while death itself scares you, even though you had days where you are close to step into the realm of afterlife, the last shimmer of sun-rays brought back a wish of once lost dream.

Getting up, had you no time to regain your breath, smashing the next window and stepped with Conan into the first floor. Another sprint, time was sacred now, searching for another place to hide in.

~~~

Hiding in the girls restroom, was a good decision or at least sounded like one. Sitting Conan onto the counter, you barley took a glance at yourself in the mirror—not wanting to see the brutal truth of ugliness and insecurity in it, which is just a reflection of you.

Rubbing your face and leaning against the counter as well, you let out a tired sigh—breathing heavily as you tried to regulate your breath again.

Your lungs burned, feeling so sandpaper dry—like your voice used to be hours ago—and your body ached from exhaustion. You wanted nothing more than to sleep, god, does sleep sounds so promising—so peaceful.

Fishing out a package of cigarettes, a lighter and two small bottles from the jacket, you lighting one up and took a long drag from the cigarette, letting the burning smoke invade your already heavy lungs—why you had cigarettes packed in the jacket, Conan didn't know and he also didn't knew that you smoked, but that was a question for another time—before taking the cigarette and pressing the tip onto your wounds.

»You know Conan–« you begun, didn't know yourself why you start to feel so nostalgic—so sentimental—and wanting to share a memory—from your childhood, so pure and with so much happiness in it—about Shinichi and you with Conan.

Perhaps it was because time was running out and you wanted to cherish in the past again, once last time.

Or maybe—and that's sounds more likely—it's the mix of morphine and adrenaline you gulped down, seconds ago, in one go—like a shot of vodka—choking on it as the taste was anything but pleasant and taking it on a empty stomach was not good, wanting to vomit up right away—because apparently you still weren't feeling mad-hatter and joker enough.

Whatever it might have been, in this moment it just felt right to share this sacred moment.

»Just mere moments ago, I wanted to give up once more. For final this time.«

»And why didn't you?«

»Besides the asshole insulting my brother? A thunder of thoughts, a flashback, struck me.« you stopped again, smiling at Conan and ruffling through his hair.

And then you told Conan about the most treasured memory you had;

It was during elementary when Digimon had its rookie-start in the TV. Shinichi and I would've watched it everyday and the openings—and few songs in it—had me so awestruck with joy, that Shinichi once begged our parents to buy him a walkman with the tape.

Shinichi didn't wanted any other presents for his birthday, except for this and when they gave in and brought it—Shinichi, proudly and happily grinning, had giving me the walkman.

Telling me—in all seriousness he could muster with his chubby face—that whenever I would start to feel sad again—back then, our parents already knew what started to happen with me, but all Shinichi and I knew was that I was feeling immense sadness and sometimes pain—it was also during the time, where I tried to drown myself in the bathtub for the first time and I will never forget the frightful and worried face of my knightly brother on that day—I should listen to the tape.

Because Shinichi had believed, that when I listened to the tape, the sadness would go away and somehow it did—but not really because of the music itself, but because—and it took me some years to understand—of Shinichi himself, who always acts so selflessly just to make me laugh.

Conan never wanted to tell you so badly, that he's Shinichi—that he's here with you, like how he always promised you and that there's no need to ever be sad again, because your brother is here and everything is gonna be alright.

But Conan couldn't, just couldn't do that. It would brought you more trouble and in danger—making you another target for the Men in Black and being an achilles heel to himself—than you already had.

The truth would cause more harm to yourself and could bring you into, perhaps, final collapse with your fragile mental health—and the thought of you being mad at him, Conan just couldn't stand and wouldn't forgiving himself for it.

»And whenever we've listen to these songs, which I still do nowadays, Shin-Chan would tell that all our dreams and wishes would come true.«

»Did they come true? Your dreams?«

»They did. At least for Shin-chan, who is, besides my wonderful boyfriend of course, the greatest detective of all times«

»And what about you [Name]?«

»Me? Well, I don't think I ever really had something akin to a dream or goal in life. Till now. Meeting Heiji, you, having the people around me which I love so much, make me realise something,«

Taking off your necklace, which had Heiji's promise-ring—and a pendant with Shinichi's and your parents names (and birthstones) engraved on it—looped in and putting it around Conan, tapping his nose.

»Besides me wanting to die on some days, it is worth to live after all. So I'm gonna promise you Conan, here and now, that I won't die tonight and neither will you. We're gonna survive this night and see the sunrise once more.«

And then you told Conan the next steps of your new reforming plan. Telling how you will smash Daiki—even though the fucker deserves a headshot, but Shinichi once said; killing someone out of self-justice, makes you not better than a murder themselves—into the ground and making him regret everything he had done.

Living like you're dying isn't living at all

We are, we are, we are gonna be alright

We got, we got, we always got the fight in us

[czrpenters]

stupid | sam carpenter x reader

summary: maybe you just had the most challenging, yet stupidiest decision of your life.

pairings: sam carpenter x fem!reader, meeks-martin!reader.

warnings: scream vi spoilers ahead, mention of injuries, blood and death. reader is mindy and chad's older sister. english is not my first language.

word count: 1.5k words.

masterlist. | request rules.

You couldn't believe it.

You never would've know that there was still a risk when you decided to leave Woodsboro with your siblings and your friends. You thought that it was over. That it was in the past. And now, Ghostface followed you all to New York. The nightmare began all over again. You've lost 3 friends over that motherfucker and you weren't ready to lose more.

After the last attacks in Woodsboro, in which you've almost lost your siblings and your own life for, you've decided to take a few self-defense lessons. Being careful was never going to be enough. You had pepper spray, a taser and a knife that you carried on your bag day after day. It was so fucking tiring being alert all the time, but you had to. You unfortunately was never going to be safe. I guess being the girlfriend of a ghostface target came with a cost, right?

And now, you were running from an asshole in a ghostface mask again, this time in New York, in your apartament. You just lost Quinn, your roommate, to him; Anika got stabbed and Mindy got injured. All of that adrenaline and fear got worse when the killer cornered you all into the bathroom, and for a split second you thought that this was it. It was the end of the line. You were going to die with your girlfriend today, Chad would lose both of his sisters and Tara would be alone. You couldn't stop thinking about them.

"(Y/N), let's go!" Sam shouted while opening the window. You saw your neighbour Danny right at the other building, with a ladder on his hands, putting it across both buildings like a bridge. That was actually a very good plan. He secured the ladder with his hands, while Ghostface was trying to open the door that Mindy and you secured with some furniture, but it was not enough, so you were holding the furniture to make sure that he wasn't gonna pass through. Anika was crying in pain right next to Mindy, and she was trying her best to press down to her girlfriend's wound so she wouldn't bleed to death. "You go first, let's go!"

"No fucking way, Sam! You go, then Mindy, Anika and me." You replied, in an kinda obvious tone, while Sam shook her head no. "I need to hold the fucking door, Sam! Just trust me on this, okay? I'm gonna be fine, I promise you that. Now go. Don't think, just go." She kissed your lips goodbye, praying that it wasn't going to be the last time she did that.

Even though she was very afraid, she passed the ladder successfully. It got you very relieved. She was safe. She was with Danny. She was okay. Mindy was next, even though she didn't wanted to leave her girlfriend and you, she passed the ladder quickly so she could help Anika do the same. It was getting harder and harder to hold down the door, but you needed your family to be safe, you needed them to be happy, even if it meant without you. "(Y/N)..." Anika said while crying, as if you were already dead.

"Don't you do that, okay? Don't think, just go, remember?" You quickly took your jacket off and tossed it to her, so she could put around her wound while she was on the ladder. "Put this on your stomach and go. Now, Anika."

You could see Sam and Mindy crying at the other side, and you hated to worry your family like this, but you wanted them to believe you had a plan. Even if you had to sacrifice yourself for them. Anika took the longest to pass through the ladder, due to the fact that she was holding your jacket on her wound, but she finally got to the other side with no problems. Before you could think about anything else, Ghostface made a brutal push on the door, which made you tumble and lose control over it. You could hear the girls screaming in fear, but you hoped that at least one of them called the police already, and if they did, your job was only to stall that motherfucker while the cops were coming. It was a stupid idea, but it was the only one you had.

So, you finally gave in. You stepped aside from the door and the killer got in, and you had enough time to go over the window and drop the ladder, which made Sam scream at you, but you weren't going to take any chances. He wasn't going to even have the option to think about crossing that ladder.. He wasn't as anxious like 5 minutes ago, he was calm; ready to gut your whole body while your family watched. He cornered you and got ready to stab you, but you thought quicker; hoping he was a dude, you tried to literally kick him in the balls. It distracted him for a few seconds, which were enough for you to turn around and grab anything to defend yourself. But that was clearly a mistake, since you felt a sharp pain on your back almost immediately. Sam and Mindy were screaming at you, but you weren't listening. You yelled in pain, and to move your arm became quite difficult, but with your last ounce of strenght, you grabbed a ceramic lamp and broke it on his head. It was getting hard to breathe, he probably hit you in your lung or something, but you tried your best to stay awake and ignore the excruciating pain you were feeling. And before he could do anything else, some sirens and red lights could be seen through the window. Thank god, you thought. He grabbed his knife and fled the place, as if he was just an allucination, and you finally let your guard down. It was over.

You sat down on the bathroom floor, bleeding, trying your best to not lose consciousness, but it got harder and harder each minute. You thought about Sam, in how she was probably safe right now, with Mindy. They were at Danny's, you thought. They're okay. You hoped Chad and Tara were fine too, and definetly prayed that Anika would survive. You couldn't stop thinking about them; and it was the last thing you remember before closing your eyes and letting your body rest.

--

You opened your eyes, the bright lights and colours of the room were heavy on your eyes. "Am I dead?"you thought. No one was in your room, but after a minute of searching, you found a blue button to call for the nurse, which made her come into your room in a couple of seconds later. "Where is Sam...? Is she okay?" You said, hoarse, when the nurse finally got into your room.

"I will find Miss Carpenter for you, okay? Do you need anything right now?"

"I need to see if she's fine." You were so tired, your eyes and body were begging for some rest but that would only happen after you've seen your siblings and girlfriend. After a couple of minutes, the love of your life came barging into the room, with a worried look on her face. "Oh my god, (Y/N)."

She hugged you tight, making you wince in pain.

"You do know that I'm injured, right?" You joked, making her laugh a little. Damn, you missed that laugh. "Shut up, jackass. I got worried as fuck. The doctor said you were stabbed in your lung, but nothing too serious. You should be out of here tomorrow."

"Was I out for too long? How's Anika? And my siblings?" You've bombarded her with questions, so she sat down close to you and held your hand.

"Anika will be fine. She is resting right now, got through a few surgeries. Chad and Tara are fine, and Mindy got a few stitches." She kissed the back of your hand. "And you were out for at least, 8 hours."

"Damn, you got me fucking worried. You came here and hugged me like I've been in a 4 week coma, babe." She pretended to be offended and laughed.

"It felt like forever to me, idiot. But I got really worried yesterday, (Y/N)." She got serious in the last part. "What the fuck were you thinking? To face the killer like that. To fucking drop the ladder??You could've died."

"If I didn't do that, the four of us would've died. If that's your way to say 'thank you', it sucked. Try again." You joked again, making her smile.

"I'm being serious, (Y/N). That was irresponsible. You couldn't beat a killer that size without a weapon!"

"Okay, first of all, I do have weapons. They just weren't with me at that specific moment. And second of all, of course I could! I am trained in jiu-jitsu, Samantha. I could stick that guy's head in his own ass if I wanted to."

"You had THREE jiu-jitsu classes, (Y/N)! That does NOT count as training!" She said in an obvious tone.

"Whatever. You're just jealous because the instructor told you that your arms were too flimsy to practice jiu-jitsu." You teased, making her flick you on your arm. "Ow!"

"Don't you ever do that to me again, okay?"

"I promise that I'll never try to kick ghostface's ass again, even though I am professionally trained to do so."

⠀

[onnahu]

Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron is one of the greatest (kids) movies

It's a masterpiece. And in the first step of proving it to you, I'll shit on Disney because it's Disney. There's not even a decade between the Pocahontas movie and Spirit release. 7 years to be exact. Both movies are about colonization and Natives to some extentions, but how they're depicted is wildly different.

First off, I don't think I need to talk much about how grossly the corporation misused the story of Matoaka. I won't even talk about the second part of the movie. Honestly, their only saving grace is that the character herself is voiced by a Native.

Meanwhile in Spirit, the producers don't look at us as stupid. They don't spell it out that it's a movie about colonisation. They don't pretend there is anything even slightly positive in there. Also, because it's from a horse's perspective, the viewer don't need to have really any knowledge, which is good, as the targeted audience are children. Spirit is an outsider, just like the viewer, and isn't intrested in joining the conflict.

Actually that's another thing. How compelling Spirit is as a character. Because yes, he's a horse, but he's a part of a family. He's trying to go home, he's trying to protect his people (horses?). He was overly curious, and it hurt him (kind of what happened in Pocahontas, mind you). He has his flaws, and he's lost in that new weird world he got threw into. Like, what not to identify with?

Anyway. I'm skipping over things bc I'm just typing without any plan, but at one point Spirit is taken to the labour job. He's unhaooy (obviously), all horses around him were taken from their families and are lost and just hopeless. Do you know what happened to Native Americans when they got captured? Among others, they were put into labour. A really weird coincident, isn't it.

Also, the villain??? The Colonel is a bad man, we see it from the beginning. He's not oppose to torturing animals, not opposed to killing them nor people. He's evil. And yet, in the end, he's able to accept his defeat. It doesn't make him a good person. It doesn't make him less evil. But it shows that even evil people have their rules and morals, however twisted they are, and death isn't the only mean to end a confilct (even if now it's just a conflict between an asshole and a horse and his Native friend). He could shoot at least one of them. But he didn't out of respect. No less evil, but it gives some hope for change. That's what we need in movies for kids. I mean, sometimes it's important to show irredeemable people, but it also takes away from reality. Things are not black and white, and SSotC really shows it. (Unlike most Disney villains, that especially nowadays either doesn't exist are bland or are just evil to their core without any nuance.)

Also it feels like i'm being disney hater. And I kinda am, but mostly for reasons i'm a hater of all multimillion companies. Dreamworks isn't out of it either. But currently I'm focusing on their movies, and Disney was less of a shit back before 2000 anyway.

Yeah I also kinda forgot the whole thing I had going on with how Natives are depicted. Is it perfect? No. Is it one of the best representation at the time and especially in the big companies? Yes. The people are not shown as either stupid nor naive. They're also not bloodthirsty or some shit. They are what Spirit is - they're just trying to live their lives and protect what theirs. The horrible reality of how colonisators treated them isn't censured that it's erased, but enought to be adequate for children that will watch the movie. It makes us curious about the culture, history, and that's exactly what we need for minorities.

Also the music? THE FUCKING MUSIC IN THIS MOVIE WILL TEAR MY HEART OUT!!!

[miraclemaya]

As a teen I moved to a small highschool with a proportionately tiny group of LGBT+ peers, and me missing out on the Middleschool Period of schooling for those students meant that I was like, missing a shit ton of in-group lore that I had to find out bit by bit over the years. A lot of which, in hindsight, was uuhhhh. Pretty awful?|||Like, sophomore year, "oh yeah there's this guy in the friend group named "A" who is constantly on the verge of getting recruited into alt-right spaces. You'll have to keep re-explaining to him why eugenics is bad (yes, even when it's targeting conservatives, he gets hung up on that detail) and tell him to stop sending you memes about "tr*ps," but we're afraid that if we excommunicate him from the friend group he really will go off the deep end" yikes. I guess I'll be drafted into the cause as well, just add me to the separate group chat made to shit talk him ig

Junior year, "Hey you probably didn't know this because that person "Y" isn't really a part of our main friendgroup, but can you call them by she/her pronouns and deadname them unless you're in a conversation with these 3 specific students? They're in the closet, even to their own group of friends" oh shit, yeah, of course of course.

Senior year, "Oh geez, yeah, remember when "A" was stalking "Y" in like, the 7th grade? Oh I guess you weren't here, anyways that's why "Y" isn't a part of the friend group and why they're still in the closet. Like, they came out as enby to three of us some time after leaving the friend group, and they definitely don't want "A" to know their chosen name so it's kept under wraps" jesus. What?? That's horrific, but after knowing the guy for a couple of years I'm unfortunately not surprised... I guess I understand why everyone decided to try and keep him in line from then on...?

Post graduation: ...HEY, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU ALL KEEP "A" IN THE FRIEND GROUP INSTEAD OF "Y"? TO THE POINT THAT "Y" DECIDED TO NEVER FULLY LEAVE THE CLOSET AND JOIN A GROUP OF CISHET FRIENDS UNTIL AFTER THEY LEFT FOR COLLEGE?

And anyways sometimes even when you do baby a white guy's feelings (be he a member of the LGBT community or not) all you end up doing is alienating those who he hurts and allowing him to get away with shit within your social circle under the guise of him "being confused and needing you to explain it. Yes, a tenth time over." And this is a hyperspecific personal experience but every time I see a post referencing the "well if I just hated the right way, alt right spaces called me brother :(( " guy I think about "A" and how even when we bent over backwards to make him feel like family he was still a pretty shit ass sibling to have around

im a little curious what prompted this but yeahhhhh that is very real is the thing. i didnt have much in the way of real social groups in highschool but the like nazi adj types were not people you could like coddle back into not being nazis they got pissed at you if you said they were wrong about anything i got threatened with getting beaten up a few times (i never did get my shit kicked in by them because there were not that many white nazis at a school that was mostly brown and black kids lol) as for like online social spaces, i was the tranny that had to deal with this shit with the few "friends" i had it was not good and i do not talk to any of those people anymore even the ones that were nice to me, because they very much kept around assholes who were awful