#tw: suicide implied

[despair-to-future-arcs]

Cue Hiyoko drama!

Hey...

FUYUHIKO: ...

Well... seems your still pulling that 'woe is me' attitude, huh? Then I better remind you...

If you think any of us would forgive you then your fucking mistaken, you murderer; Peko may have committed the crime but you intended to murder Mahiru, you were planning to kill someone...well... I guess you did get that, huh? You got 2 people killed...

Your no better then that fucking Nagito, honestly I think you should be tied up like he was! You deserve no sympathy for anyone because your a shitty killer that decided he wanted to kill, for that I fucking hate you for what you did!

Do you understand? I hate you and I plan to never forgive you for killing Mahiru...

FUYUHIKO: ...I am.

I see then I think you should listen to what I have to say then...

Your a disgusting Yakuza Scumbag that is a weak, pathetic loser that got 2 people kill all because he couldn't get over himself! Like seriously, your so disgusting that I don't want to be in the same damn room...so...!

You deserve NO forgiveness! None of it and honestly, if you think will EVER forgive you...

Slit your stomach in front of everyone and kill yourself, you don't deserve to live! Your nothing but a murderer that deserves to die for everything he done and I'll be looking forward to when you do that!

Goodbye then... Murderer!*Hiyoko leaves the room and walks out*

*Everyone watches the video in horror as Hiyoko spoke like that that were in the room were shock and horror of what they witness...*

...

...

...

...

[foster-the-moths]

wanted to try and make my own design for an alternate of mark

[thewomanwholaughed]

Joker sat at the kitchen table by herself. On the counter, her record player was busy playing an album of Doris Day, currently playing: Que Sera, Sera.

In the one hand, she held a glass of some potent toxin mixture. Its bright, toxic green contents popped and bubbled. While the other was occupied balancing a knife, the tip of which was held on her index finger.

The table held tea and cookies. While she was surrounded by four chairs; each containing a reference to a supposed child of hers...

In order from left to right, they were:

Her old red hood helmet with a grin painted on and X's for eyes, there is a crack in the helmet's upper side.

A large piece of paper with the anarchy A on it, with wet green paint slowly enveloping the paper.

A baby doll; dressed in a blue and white dress. The dress is covered in a red substance mimicking blood. There is a bullet hole in the baby's forehead.

The last chair held a broken hand-mirror, a bloodied rope around the neck of the handle. The mirror swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

Joker's ever surprising, sweet and melodic voice came out as she began singing. "Now I have children of my own... They ask their mother, what will I be?"

Joker let the knife fall and caught it between her fingers. Using it as an implement to point. Diverting from the original song as she did.

"Will I be worthy?" So asked the first.

"Will I be crazy?" Asked the second.

"Will you look at me?" Asked the fourth...

No hesitation as the Clown Princess flung the knife at the third; impaling the baby doll as it was pinned to the chair. Downing the mixture in one go, she let out a very loud yet satisfied exhale; complete with burp before standing up. Kicking the chair aside as she stuck both hands into her pockets, making her way over to her bedroom with a low hum.

"Qué será, será! Whatever will be, will be!"

[bunrux]

Doodles from @cj-does-va streams

[martyr-inthedark]

Make your Whumpee tired.

Whumpees that have been deprived of sleep by Whumper, so much so that they don't remember how to walk in a straight line and can't figure out whether the recent appearance of little black bugs in their cell are real or a hallucination.

Whumpees that can't get a full night's rest. They doze off, only to be jolted awake by their own anxiety of not knowing when Whumper would come back. Perhaps they are awakened by phlegm-coated coughs induced by their illness. They are awakened by nightmares, or by Caregiver who is worried they may succumb to hypothermia, or by a thunderstorm, or the rough blanket scratching their open wounds, or so on.

Whumpees who pull all nighters to protect their friends or lovers.

Whumpees whose eyes burn when they finally can close their eyes. Whumpees whose muscles twitch, who can't stop yawning no matter how hard they try to stifle it. Whumpees with dark, glassy eyes. Whumpees who are slow to react or have a hard time keeping up with the conversation. Whumpees with throbbing headaches. Whumpees with brain fog and memory loss.

Whumpees who have been on the run and have over exhausted their bodies. Their muscles and joints continue to scream long after its over. Whumpees with extensive blood loss. Whumpees who are malnourished.

Whumpees whose survivor's guilt keeps them awake, wondering what they might have done differently, whether it was all their fault, or why they were the ones to live.

Whumpees whose bodies are in chronic pain or illness and who have to hide it, causing muscle and mental fatigue. They keep going with a smile until they collapse or pass out.

Whumpees who break down in tears, begging to be left alone so they can rest. Whumpees who sob when they are told that the bed in front of them is theirs to use whenever they want.

[kishdoodles]

Spring

'What if Renchanting duo were the last two left' AU (with a Jesus Christ Superstar coat of paint)

[isjasz]

bubbling up definitelynottober - day 6

from god in pieces by @raichett that i read a day or so ago. hi this fic made me feel fucking sick /vpos (and when i read "bubbling up" i just. eyes widen. i can commit crimes with this)

[mintmatcha]

you break up with denki because he takes you to the hospital one night.

"your mom is coming." He tells you. "I'm really sorry."

you don't say anything.

"I'm scared for you." He says. "that you're gonna- I dunno, that you're gonna do something I can't stop or help or--"

you still don't say anything.

"I love you." He grips the steering wheel tight. "I love you a lot more than I love us, i love you so much that I cant sit here and worry anymore."

Popping your seatbelt and opening the door, you adjust yourself, then turn back. His eyes catch the neon orange glow of the hospital's shit street lights.

"Are they waiting for me?"

"yeah."

"I'll be out in 48 hours, you know that, right?"

his voice gets smaller. "yeah."

"I want your shit gone when I get back."

And you slam his car door as hard as you can.

[honeydewandcake]

WAHHH PLS MAKE MORE EBI POST, I WANT MORE OF SHRIMPO AND EBI STORY OR THE SAME THING AS THE OLD POST YOU DID 😭

I had this very depressing comic wip from a few days ago

[iknowicanbutwhy]

I keep trying to get to the part where they hold hands but keep getting stuck on the journey to get there

brainworm brainworm

[birdsribcage]

Just a silly little girl with silly little thoughts of suicide

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Prompt from @devious-kitten

Steve had a mild interest in DnD as a freshmen because of a cousin or something. The interest was killed by Eddie being mean since Steve is a jock. Post vecna Eddie finds dust covered DnD handbook Steve explains and Eddie faces a still hurt Steve as a results of his biases

((Half written fic, half rambling about how it would go down. Apologies for the formatting. Also I added more angst than the prompt called for hehe))

Steve has always loved sports. This is a well-known fact. He's played on some sort of sports team from the time he was old enough for his parents to be able to sign him up.

A lesser-known fact is that Steve loves fantasy. Or, at least, he used to. On the playground in elementary school, Steve could often be found playing knights and dragons, and it was anyone's guess if he would be a knight or a dragon on any particular day.

The summer between middle and high school, Steve spent with his grandparents from his mother's side, on the farm they'd retired on in Michigan. A month long stay that he'd shared with his cousins, Amber, Robert, and Christopher. Amber and Robert are twins, four years younger than Steve, and Christopher was two years older and infinitely cooler than anyone else Steve knew.

Christopher was on the varsity basketball team at his high school when he was just a sophomore, captain of the JV football team, president of the chess club, and in a games club.

Christopher was everything Steve wanted to be now that he was going to be in high school. Minus the chess club because

It was during that summer, Steve got to indulge in playing make believe for another summer with his younger cousins, without the judgement of people (his father and peers) who thought he was too old for such things. He also got to learn about make believe for older kids, because Christopher played a game called Dungeons and Dragons with his game club the last month of school before summer break and spent many evenings going over what had happened with Steve as a captive audience.

"I wish I'd brought the books," Christopher had whispered to him one night from the bed, peaking over to look down at Steve in his sleeping bag on the floor, "we could have played."

Steve wishes he'd brought the books, too.

At the end of July, Christopher, Amber, and Robert's parents show up to pick them up, five days before Steve's scheduled flight to Indianapolis. It's a sad goodbye because one summer a year isn't enough with his cousins but they live in Washington. Steve's always jealous their parents drive all the way to pick them up, but a little proud he gets to brag about how he's flown alone since he was seven. No one else in his class can brag about that.

His mom picks him up in Indianapolis and they go back to school shopping while there.

A week later, Steve receives a package from Christopher. Inside Steve finds Advanced Dungeons and Dragons books, three of them, and even though Christopher said nothing about advanced, he's sure he can manage. On the inside cover of the players handbook, Christopher has written:

Hey Steve, I think you'd rock playing a dwarf paladin. Let's play next summer? Christopher 1981

He spends the last three weeks of summer vacation reading the player handbook cover to cover and making a character. It's slow going, because letters don't stay where they're supposed to be on the page (that's a problem he's had his whole life, so he's not surprised but he is determined), and he's never been good at math, so getting the stats down on paper isn't easy. He can't decide what he wants to play, so he makes two characters; an elf magic-user and, of course, a dwarf paladin.

(He's a little disappointed you can't be a dragon.)

Steve's never been one to dread the first day of school, but he's never actually looked forward to it, either. It's just been another day.

Until today.

Today is his first day as a high schooler. And the only people who go to the first day are Freshman, except the upper classman that have volunteered to man the booths for school activities for the last hour of the day. It's supposed to help the Freshman get the lay of the land without being overwhelming and Steve's excited for it. He needs to see if Hawkins High has a games club like Christopher's school does.

Here Steve is, that last hour of school. He's already been to the basketball booth, promising to sign up as soon as the season started, and the swim booth because he's got a pool at his house and has been swimming for as long as he can remember and knows he enjoys it. He also stops by the football booth even though he's never played, or cared much, for it. (Maybe he's trying to emulate Christopher, sue him.). So, the final thing is to see if Hawkins High offers a chess club and a game club.

Steve is delighted to see that, though there is no games club, there is a Dungeons and Dragons club! That delight wavers because of the kid manning the booth. His hair is curly and falls just below his ears, with big brown eyes. Steve hates to think it, but he'd be cute if he didn't look like he wanted to stab Steve.

"Yeah, no, keep walking," says the boy, pulling the flier with meeting information on it out from under Steve's hand, where he'd been attempting to read it.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed in confusion. "I was reading that."

"And I said no. Jocks don't play Dungeons and Dragons."

"I could," Steve says, offended. He squints at the name tag sticker slapped diagonally across the way too big jean vest this guy's wearing. E-d-d-i-e. Eddie.

"Have you ever played?"

"Well... no, but-"

"No buts. Mitch let a jock join last year and that was a nightmare. He could barely read the rule book. And with how you were squinting down at the flier, and then my name tag, you're not going to be much better."

Jokes on Eddie, Steve's already read the rule book. Even if it was slowly. "I can read just fine."

"Can you math, then? What's eight plus seven?"

"What?"

"Simple addition. Eight plus seven. What is it?"

Steve knows simple addition. This is fine. It doesn't matter than he's been put on the spot, and that math is hard for the same reason as reading. He can do this. His hand twitches with wanting to pull it up and use it to keep track. He's faster at math when he can do that, but this jerk is mean mugging him and he just knows if he moves his hand, this guy will mock him the rest of the school year.

Eight plus seven. Ok. Make it easier, get to ten. It takes adding two to the eight to get ten. Ok. Take that two away from the seven now. That makes... five! Ok. Ten plus five is-

"Dude, it's fifteen," Eddie snaps.

"I knew that!"

Scoff. "Right. How about seventeen plus six."

Steve can feel his face turning red with embarrassment but he's not going to let this jackass be right. Round up. It takes three to get seventeen to twenty, so take three away from the six-

"23. Point proven. Go. Away. Go play your jock games and leave me- us alone."

Steve opens his mouth to argue, or maybe plead, that he can do this, and that, more importantly, he wants to do this, but laughter cuts through the air and for the first time, Steve notices the audience that has gathered. Three people are laughing at him, and his inability to do mental math, and it makes Steve snap his jaw shut and swallow.

"Mental math isn't that hard, Steve," one of them, Brant, says, as he elbows the guy next to him.

"Thank you!" Eddie says, "that's what I'm saying."

"Whatever, man, like I'd want to play make believe at this age anyway," Steve mutters and rushes away.

If, two weeks later, Steve watches Kyle trip who he now knows is Eddie 'The Freak' Munson in the bathroom, and drag him into a stall for a swirly, well, no he didn't. He briefly thinks of saying something to stop Kyle, but shoves the words down and instead turns on heel and leaves that bathroom just as the sound of flushing and Eddie yelling start. The thick bathroom door does a good job of muffling the noise and if Steve feels any guilt about that, he shoves that down, too.

Besides, Kyle's the captain of the basketball team and if Steve wants a chance to be on that team, he can't stay anything. It's a well-known fact that Steve likes sports, after all. He's going to stick to that. Screw Eddie Munson and his Dungeons and Dragons club.

Steve will get to play Dungeons and Dragons with Christopher next summer.

Except, halfway through the school year, Steve and his parents quickly board a plane bound for Washington. Turns out being as perfect as Christopher was is hard. Overwhelming.

They arrive the day before the funeral, and fly out right after it. Steve barely has time to mourn before they're shuffling him back to school that Monday.

Christopher died, and with him, so does Steve's desire to be just like him. He quits the football team. He keeps basketball because he does like it, even without Christopher's influence. He can't bring himself to get rid of the Dungeons and Dragons books, but he can't look at them, either. They end up in the downstairs hall closet, forgotten on the shelf.

So, years later, after rising to the top of the food chain (no one was ever going to embarrass him like Eddie Munson had again) and then falling to the bottom (who cares about high school popularity when interdimensional monsters exist) and of course, the years of fighting against said interdimensional monsters before ending it all in spring of '86, Steve finds himself, unwillingly, agreeing to host Hellfire since the school banned the club following the events of spring break.

Damn Dustin Henderson. Steve usually has the backbone to say no but Dustin had to play up 'getting a chance to finally just be kids' and fuck, how was Steve going to say no to that? Despite how quickly his own desire to be a freshman playing Dungeons and Dragon had been squashed, he can't be the one to ruin this for them.

"Thanks for hosting, man," Eddie says when Steve lets him in. He's an hour early but had asked if that was okay. Apparently the dungeon master has a lot of prep to do? Not that Steve would know.

"Sure," Steve says, dismissively, because while Eddie and he went through hell together, and Steve carried his sorry ass out of the Upside Down, Steve can't quite let his guard down around him.

It's funny. In the Upside Down, Eddie had made a point to tell him he's changed, is a 'good dude' now. So, what's funny is how much Eddie is exactly the same person he was five years ago. He was an ass to Steve five years ago, and as far as Steve is concerned, was also an ass to Lucas for wanting to play basketball just this year.

He swears to God, if he hears one negative thing about Lucas tonight, he's punching Eddie unconscious, no matter what the rest of Hellfire will do or say about it.

Eddie's been in his dining room for maybe five minutes before he finds Steve in the living room. Steve's got a movie playing but he couldn't tell you which one. He's not really watching it.

"Do you got a table cloth for that big table? Jeff's got a set of metal dice and I'd feel like a real ass if we scratched it on accident."

Steve takes a deep breath before answering. He hates that Eddie is considerate like this, has been since spring break if Steve's being honest, but he doesn't want to see Eddie's good qualities. So, he waves in the direction of the closet. "Yeah. There should be some in the hall closet there. Help yourself."

"Thanks."

He twists on the couch to watch Eddie cross the room to the closet door, listens as the door creaks opens, hears the quiet, pleased noise Eddie lets out when his eyes land on the stack of table clothes. Steve continues to watch as Eddie just grabs the whole stack and yanks them off the top shelf.

Which means his watching as the stack of non-fabric objects, which must have been half atop the table clothes, also tumble out of the closet, bouncing off various parts of Eddie. It's a bunch of miscellaneous items. However, Steve realizes with horror, the book that bounces off Eddie's head is his copy of the Monster Manual. Eddie has stepped back in surprise (and possibly pain), so the Dungeon Master Guide and the Players Handbook bounce off his torso and leg before landing on the ground.

"Fuck," Eddie curses, before he stares down at what just assaulted him. Steve just stares at Eddie, watching as he slowly comes to comprehend what he's seeing. He watches as Eddie bends down and grabs the Player Handbook, the last thing to fall, from a top the pile. "What the-"

Steve stands, suddenly defensive, but doesn't actually say anything or move closer. He just watches as Eddie examines the book, flipping it from front to back in his hand like the title will change if he does that enough times.

Then, Eddie turns to him, bewildered. "Present for one of the kids? Thought they all had their own copies."

"No."

Eddie flips the book open. Reads the words written in there so many years ago. "Who's Christopher? Wait. 1981? You were playing D&D in 1981?"

"None of your business, and no," Steve says, now kicking into action, stomping up to Eddie and snatching the book from his hands.

Eddie hold his hands up in defense before his eyes turn mischievous. The same glint in them now that was there when Eddie'd leaned into this space in the RV and called him big boy. "Are you lying to me, Stevie? You've played before, haven't you?"

It makes Steve's blood boil. "No. I haven't played!"

"Alright. You could now, you know," Eddie says. And it's the way he says it, all nonchalant and like he's trying to be coy about it- it tips something over inside Steve. A bottle that held his humiliation and hurt from all those years ago.

"Oh, now I'm good enough for D&D? Now I can join? Aren't I too much of a jock for you!?"

"Whoa, what's with the hostility-"

"What's eight plus seven, Eddie!?" Steve snaps. His memory might be shit these days, with all the concussions, but the unfortunate part about Steve is that he always seems to remember the bad. And he remembers Freshman First Day like yesterday. "No? How about seventeen plus six? Come on, mental math isn't hard. Or don't you remember? I'm just a stupid jock too slow on the uptake, or no, what was it you said? It'll be a nightmare to play with me, 'cause I might be barely able to read the rules?"

He watches as Eddie's face morphs from confusion, to understanding and horror. "Holy shit, Steve. That was you- you wanted to join Hellfire-"

"Yeah, and you made it pretty fuckin' clear I didn't belong in it."

"I'm sorry man. I shouldn't have- if I'd known you, I never would have-"

"That's the problem, Eddie!" Steve shouts, waving the book in front of him. "You didn't know me. You looked at me and decided for me that I was going to be a jock and nothing else and then humiliated me in front of other people! You didn't even bother to try to know me. I spent three weeks reading this stupid book cover to cover because I knew I was shit at reading and I still wanted to try anyway."

He sees Eddie puffing up in anger. "Well, I wasn't exactly wrong, was I? You were a jock, a bully even!"

"Yeah, because I was a dumb, hurt kid who decided that it was better to hurt than be hurt. As if you weren't exactly the same that day, lashing out at me first, at my reading ability, and mocking me for not being quick at math. Fuck you, Munson!" Steve walks away, not hearing anything Eddie shouts after him as he sprints up the stairs and shuts himself in his room.

Steve knows he was a dick in high school, and it's not Eddie's fault he was a dick. Steve made choices he's not proud of and no one forced those choice on him. But Eddie doesn't get to throw that back in his face. Not when Eddie made him feel humiliated and stupid on the first goddamn day of high school, long before Steve became mean himself.

[sicklyjelly]

a comic commission for @cookiecomics! A scene from her P5 fic “A Tale of Two Tricksters” 💥🔫

check her fic out here!

[sarcasticmothdraws]

We love thinking about the scenario where you're pissed off at your sibling but don't want to think about the uncertainty that they might think that you're dead, they killed you, and you don't know if they could cope with that guilt or not.

[lordoftablecloths]

In which the Town is left orphaned.

27: Hell

I think, in the worst possible end of all of their routes, they all die in their own special way. As morbidly hilarious that sounds, it's fitting. Explanation/headcanons under cut

So, first, Daniil: He jumps off the Polyhedron. This could be for a number of reasons. Mainly being that he feels that he has nothing left for him, particularly in reference to Thanatica. All his life work destroyed, so even if he does deal with this damned town, he has nothing to show for it. He comes to the decision as rationally as a man like him could. He weighs out his other options, realizes that he would find no particular satisfaction in them, so once the meeting in the cathedral is over, he climbs to the top of the Polyhedron and simply lets himself fall. Perhaps he remembers Eva, or perhaps he wanted to, like her, add something to such a hallowed piece of architecture.

Artemy (and Clara) are relatively simpler: He dies either in the fight with Oyun or dies to his "trials."

Clara in some way or another succumbs to the earth. I don't completely know how this would work out story-wise, but it felt like thematically. Do note that I haven't finished her route yet, haha.

anyway, this took fucking forever to finish, so despite having said I was going to do one more pathofest after this, i dont think i have the life in me to do so, ,, it was going to be for the prompt "our home" but i really want to work on and just do other stuff, NAMELY goretober !!!!

also scream fortress

i love you pathologic but i want to be free

[ghosts-and-glory]

I desperately wanna know what it was like for each of the bishops to gain their crowns. Like they were all children, Shamura was the first. They were alone for a long time until Kallamar came along.

I feel like every time I answer an ask I just leave y’all with more questions. But Shamura, dispute being the first of the bishops, was not alone. They are about 12 here.

I have a headcannon that a lot of Shamura’s game dialogue are phrases that they have said or heard before their injury. Left over fragments from their past that they can’t quite remember yet are still haunted by.

Don’t ask me what happened with the visual style here, it’s out of my control. This is barely even cult of the lamb anymore, I’ve gone rouge.

Comic about Narinder getting his crown here.

Also extra unused panel of Shamura.