#I drew the fuck out of that steak for some reason idk

[pandadrake]

More things should have canon chibi animal mascots for the main characters.

Spoiler mention below the cut

This was basically my vibe for Case 2-4, like damn Asougi chill.

#my art #dai gyakuten saiban #the great ace attorney #ryunosuke naruhodo #kazuma asougi #barok van zieks #Its so weird to have an entry in this series where the main characters names are left in untranslated Japanese #cat meme #the great ace attorney spoilers #dai gyatuken saiban spoilers #I drew the fuck out of that steak for some reason idk #I am not an anime artist

[terriblelifechoices]

Does anyone else do the thing, where you write something and put it aside because a newer, shinier idea came along and then totally forget that you wrote it?  And then you find it and go, oh, hey, this is neat.  I wonder where the writer is going with this.

And then: Fuck.  I’m the writer.  The writer is me.

Please tell me you do this, or I’m going to feel really embarrassed.  Because apparently that’s a thing I did.

Cleaning out the gdocs and came across this.  My notes say I was writing it for @thesilverqueenlady which is probably why I was going for Graves in the style of Hannibal Lecter.  I have no memory of writing it, or any idea where I was going with it.

IDK if anyone else is interested in reading it, but.  Here’s an untitled, unfinished and abandoned ficbit.  If you want to take this and finish it, please do.

In which Grindelwald demonstrates his wizard nazi tendencies with human experimentation.  Graves is not exactly human anymore, but he refuses to let anyone make him Frankenstein’s Creature.

Graves had a list of things he wanted to do once he’d broken out of Grindelwald’s prison.  He’d written it down on a scrap of fabric from a shirt that had long since been reduced to rags.  He’d used his own blood as ink, for lack of any other available writing instrument.  

Kill Grindelwald was the only thing on it, and once Graves realized that the concerned presence of MACUSA’s healers meant that he was free, that was exactly what he tried to do.

He honestly wasn’t sure how long he’d been Grindelwald’s captive – equal parts prisoner and lab rat.  He’d tried counting the days at first, but he couldn’t account for how much time he’d spent unconscious in the aftermath of torture or Grindelwald’s experiments.  All he knew was that he was different now: stronger, better, faster, and still not good enough to get out of Grindelwald’s prison.  He’d taught himself to pick locks, to break curses, to escape – to survive – by whatever means necessary.  He fed his rage and frustration into the thing he’d become – a test subject, the first of Grindelwald’s shock troops, useful for experimenting on but useless in every other regard because his rage helped him shake off the mental conditioning Grindelwald kept trying to implement.

Graves was fairly certain that whatever he was now wasn’t human anymore.  Not entirely, at any rate.

MACUSA’s wards were nothing compared to Grindelwald’s.  Graves ripped through them, dodging counter curses and hexes thrown at him by MACUSA’s best and brightest.  He slammed into Grindelwald, too-sharp teeth bared in a triumphant smile.

“Miss me?” he purred, his too-sharp fingernails drawing blood.

It took four Senior Aurors, a house elf and Madam fucking President to pry Graves off of Grindelwald.  Graves took some satisfaction in the fact that he managed to half-kill the bastard in the process.  If Picquery hadn’t arrived when she did, he probably could have managed to finish the job.

“Director Graves!” she thundered.

Graves gave the silver chains around his wrists a contemptuous look.  There was a reason suspects were supposed to be bound with their wrists behind their backs.  Was this deference, to the man he’d been, or mere stupidity?

No matter.  Graves flexed his wrists, straining against the chains for just a second, and then he broke them.

“Attacking a suspect in MACUSA’s custody is an actionable offense,” Picquery said, keeping her voice level and her wand trained on him.  Her eyes were round with – what, surprise?  Or was it terror?  MACUSA’s cuffs were supposed to be impossible to break.  “I should fire you.”

Graves looked at her.  He’d been her man, once.  He’d voted for her, bled for her, for MACUSA, for his people and not a one of the silly mewling sheep had noticed that he was gone.

Grindelwald’s blood was still on his fingers.  Graves wanted to lick them clean.

Whatever he was now, it wasn’t an Auror.  Graves wanted blood, not justice, and if he stayed here, he’d try to take it.

“You can’t fire me,” he said, making his voice sharp and cruel.  He had to cut ties with MACUSA completely; had to slam that door shut so violently that the impact crumbled the walls around it to dust.  “What right have you to my service?  You let a genocidal fanatic walk among you, wearing my face, and not one of you noticed.”  He dropped the badge he’d lifted from Grindelwald’s pocket during the scuffle on the table between them.  “I quit.”

“You what,” Picquery said.

“I said I fucking quit,” said Graves, and Apparated out of the holding cells, straight to the front gate of the manor house.

*

The Graves family’s ancestral home was located in upstate New York, deep enough into the woods to shelter them from scandal, No-Maj’s and the occasional high society invading army.  It was warded against all manner of dark creatures and spells.

Graves watched with irritated resignation as the wards lit up in warning, red sparks against the night sky like fireworks in July.

He licked the last of Grindelwald’s blood from his fingers and considered the wards.  They were old, almost as old as MACUSA itself, and old magic couldn’t be bullied or intimidated into doing anything it didn’t want to.

It could be reasoned with, though.  If you were powerful enough, or if your need was so desperate that it called and the old magics answered.

He drew one too-sharp fingernail – one claw, he might as well call it what it was – against the underside of his wrist and let his blood drip freely against the stones.

“I am Percival Richard Graves, master of the House and Head of the Graves family,” he said crisply.  “I was born within the House’s walls.  I am the only son and heir of Edward Gondulphus Graves and Helena Louise McAllister-Graves.  I have walked the House and the grounds and the woods and offered blood and power to strengthen House and Home.

“Graves Manor is mine by birthright and blood, and by my blood I demand that you let me in.”

Making demands of magic old enough to have a degree of sentience was dangerous.  Graves didn’t care.  This was his home goddamnit.  He would not cringe and play the supplicant when it was his by right.

The wards and the front gates swung open beneath his touch.

“Thank you,” Graves said, and went in.

*

The problem with the manor house, Graves discovered, was that it was located in upstate New York, deep enough in the woods to discourage visitors of any kind.  He spent a pleasantly isolated week removing the dust covers and walking the halls, returning the house to its former glory before realizing that there was no one to share its glory with.

Graves didn’t particularly want to share its glory with anyone, much less have visitors.  He wasn’t entirely certain that he wasn’t going to try and eat them.

He spent the next two weeks testing the limits of his humanity, checking his reflection for signs of change and seeing the same face he’d always seen: heavy brows, dark eyes, aquiline nose, more than a touch of silver at his temples.

He could have settled into a comfortably isolated routine, but on the full moon he felt an old familiar thrum in his blood.  It was the one that said run.

Hunt.

Kill.

In Grindelwald’s prison, he hadn’t known that it was the full moon when he felt that thrum in his blood.  All he’d known was that the urge to hunt and kill was calling, a siren song of destruction.  He’d clawed his way out of his cell but couldn’t escape the prison.  He’d scratched scars into the walls, his back, his arms.  He’d screamed curses and rage and none of it had been enough.  It hadn’t even taken the edge off.

Graves killed a deer in the woods with only the moon to bear witness, the forest lit up like it was daylight to his new and improved vision.  He ripped out the entrails and left them in the woods, a bloody offering.  The heart he ate raw; fear and adrenaline made the meat taste sweet.  He brought the rest of it back to the house and stored it in the cold room under stasis spells.  He ate it pan-seared and crusted with pepper, pink and rare and gamey.

“Definitely not human,” he told himself, and went to go fetch his spare potions kit from the lab in the old greenhouse.

Grindelwald had improved his sense of smell along with his hearing and his eyesight.  The potions lab reeked to Graves’ nose, medicinal and chemical and wrong in the same way Grindelwald’s own lab had been.  At least the lab in the old greenhouse didn’t reek of piss and shit and fear, the way Grindelwald’s did.

Graves gritted his teeth and brewed the potion to test for lycanthropy.

Properly brewed, Graves knew, the potion would turn silver if exposed to the werewolf pathogen.  That was how the myth about werewolves and silver had gotten started; for anything else, the potion would stay the same muddy brown color.  He pricked his finger and let three drops into the bowl, glowering at it when the potion turned a warm, burnished gold.

“What the fuck,” Graves said, and went off to the woods to sulk.

*

Boredom and a need for answers drove Graves back to the city less than a week after that.  Whatever he was now, he wasn’t going to find any answers living like a hermit in the country.  Too much isolationism and self-experimentation seemed like a guaranteed recipe for madness.

Graves still wasn’t sure of his control.  He didn’t feel any particular need to hunt down and eat his neighbors, no matter how annoying some of them were, but he had to admit that some days they sounded more appetizing than anything he brought home from a restaurant – or worse, his pitiful bachelor attempts at cooking for himself.  Food had simply been fuel, before.  He hadn’t cared what it tasted like, so long as it had enough calories and nutrition to keep him going.

Food tasted wrong now: the ingredients slightly off, the meat not fresh enough, the vegetables not seasoned well enough to bring out their full potential.  He found that he preferred steak tartare to steak cooked rare, which wouldn’t have been a problem, had he been able to eat anything else he ordered when he went out to eat.

He’d learned to live on half-rations while he was Grindelwald’s prisoner.  Graves resigned himself to learning to live off of them again and probably would have, if not for Sarah Rogers.

Sarah Rogers lived in one of the tenement buildings near where Graves’ own lodgings where – he’d decided against anything ostentatious; it hadn’t helped when Grindelwald took him prisoner.  Maybe here, where people actually seemed to know their neighbors, someone would notice if he went missing again.  Sarah had a small, sickly son, and a husband who hadn’t entirely come home from the war.  The whole neighborhood knew better than to try and intervene between Sarah and Joseph Rogers’ temper, but the shouting and the crying grated on Graves’ nerves, until he had no choice but to intervene.

“If you ever touch your wife and son again, I will know,” Graves said pleasantly, dangling Joseph out the window with every intention of dropping him.  

“Don’t,” Sarah begged, clutching at his arms, trying to keep him from dropping the man who’d blacked both her eyes and broken at least one rib, if Graves was any judge.  “Please, don’t hurt him.  He’s all we’ve got.”

Part of Graves approved of the fact that Sarah was so protective of her mate, despite how Joseph treated her.  But that was the part of him that Grindelwald had changed, and he knew it was the part he shouldn’t listen to.

“He’s going to kill you,” Graves told Sarah. “He’ll kill your boy, once you’re gone.  It’s what men like him do.”

He might not have been human anymore, but he wouldn’t do that.  Whatever he was, Graves wouldn’t kill children simply to secure his right to a breeding female.  He definitely wouldn’t have harmed his own offspring.

“Please,” Sarah said again.

Graves sighed and hauled Joseph back into the apartment.  “Fine,” he said.  

If he left Joseph’s memories intact, Sarah would suffer for it.  Joseph would assume they were having an affair, because he couldn’t imagine why anyone would intervene on her behalf otherwise.  “Obliviate,” he said.  

Joseph blinked in stunned incomprehension, the last fifteen or so minutes totally erased.

“Stupefy,” Graves said, and Joseph collapsed onto the floor.

Sarah rushed over to him, pressing shaking fingers against his neck.  “I thought you weren’t going to hurt him!”

“I didn’t!” Graves protested, indignant.  He was a creature of his word.  “I just knocked him out.  He’ll have a bit of a hangover in the morning, but he won’t remember any of this.”

“Oh,” said Sarah.  “Thank you.  Can you help me put him in bed?”

Graves made a face.  This was what came of getting to know your neighbors.  They expected you to be neighborly.

Still.  He’d started this; it was only right that he play it all the way through.

He hauled Joseph into bed, catching sight of bright blue eyes peeking at him from the smaller bedroom.  He winked.  There was a squeaking noise, and then the eyes vanished and the door shut itself firmly behind them.

“Thank you,” Sarah said again.  “I wish there was some way I could repay you.”

“Please,” Graves said.  “Don’t trouble yourself.  I’ll just be heading home, then.”  

The part of him that had been an Auror wanted to do more.  Graves told himself it didn’t matter.  No good could come of interfering with the No-Maj’s.  If the fool woman wanted to stay with the man who would eventually kill her, that was her business.

He’d dropped his groceries in the entryway when he’d burst into the Rogers’ apartment.  Graves thought about picking them up, but he suspected Sarah and her son would make better use of them than he could.  The boy was sickly, everyone knew that.  Fresh vegetables would do him some good.  And Sarah could use some feeding up, too.  How often did she go without, so her boy could eat?

“Your groceries,” Sarah began.

“Keep them,” he told her.  “You and your boy need them more than I do.”  They could probably make better use of them, too.  He was a terrible cook.

He felt her eyes on him as he walked out of her building and next door into the one where his lodgings were.  Pressed together close as they were, he could have heard Joseph’s voice and Sarah’s half-aborted screams even without the improvements Grindelwald had made to his hearing.  He and Sarah knew one another in passing, and that was how Graves expected it to stay.

Sarah felt otherwise.  She brought him dinner the next night – steak, a little too well done for his liking, but seasoned with a deft hand.  Carrots and potatoes seasoned with fresh rosemary and cooked in the same pan as the steak, made savory with its leftover juices.  Apples drizzled with honey, which he gleefully shared with her small son Steven, delighted by food that tasted good for the first time since he’d been changed.

“Steve,” Sarah protested weakly.

“He’s a growing boy, Mrs. Rogers,” Graves said, handing Steve another apple slice.  “Apples are good for him.”  He’d wolfed down the steak and the vegetables.  Only good manners kept him from devouring the apple slices as well.  “You didn’t need to do this,” he added.

Sarah set her jaw stubbornly.  “I don’t take charity, Mr…?”

“Graves.”

“Mr. Graves,” she finished.  

Graves considered the meal he’d just eaten.  Sarah had kept just enough of his groceries for one portion of a meal.  Joseph’s, or Steven’s, maybe.  Not enough for herself, surely.  Not unless the Rogers’ were used to surviving on considerably less than what Graves considered a half ration.

“Can I make a bargain with you, Mrs. Rogers?” he asked.

Sarah gave him a wary look.  “What sort of bargain?” she asked.

Graves gestured to his bachelor lodgings.  “I’m a bachelor, as I’m sure you can tell.  I find my own cooking skills somewhat lacking, of late.  I’d appreciate it if you could teach me how to cook properly.  I can’t pay you, but anything you make you’re more than welcome to take home.”  That was a lie, but he suspected it was the only way he could convince Sarah Rogers to take any food home with her.

Sarah hesitated.

“Please,” said Graves, giving her his best boyish grin.  He nudged Steven, who echoed him with cherubic innocence: “Please?”

“Very well,” Sarah sighed.  “How much do you know about cooking?”

“Assume the bare minimum to keep myself alive,” Graves told her, with perfect honesty.

“Right,” said Sarah.  She considered his offer for long enough that Graves thought she would say no.  “I can teach you how to cook, if you like.  But I don’t take charity, Mr. Graves.  Not from anyone.”

She should have been born a witch, Graves thought.  She’d have been magnificent.

“Yes, Mrs. Rogers,” Graves said.

*

Sarah was a nurse, Graves learned, which explained her no nonsense demeanor and the faint smell of hospital-grade antiseptic that clung to her skin like perfume.  She taught him how to select good meat - the way it was supposed to look, how fresh meat smelled versus meat that had been spoiled - and how to pick the best fruits and vegetables.  She gave him cuttings from her own herb garden, maintained carefully in pots on the windowsill.  She showed him the best way to season his meals to their full potential, and sighed, wistfully, when he produced ingredients she mentioned would be nice to cook with, if the cost of them weren’t so dear.  (Graves tried to get her to take them home, once, and Sarah gave him a flat look.  “How would I explain them?” she asked, pressing them back into his hands.  Which, fine.  Graves didn’t want to cause trouble between Sarah and her ass of a husband.  Thank god Joseph’s sense of smell was nowhere near as good as his own, and Joseph couldn’t smell another man’s presence on her the way Graves could.  Graves didn’t try to get Sarah to take anything home after that.)

“I think I’ve taught you everything I can,” Sarah said.  She grimaced.  “It’s not right, me spending so much time with an unmarried man.”

Someone had noticed, Graves translated.  He sighed.  “I wish you’d let me kill him,” he said.

Sarah swatted him.  “You shouldn’t say things like that!” she scolded.  “That’s not right, either.”

Graves shrugged, not especially bothered by her censure.  “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t.”

“Fine.”  Graves ruffled young Steven’s hair.  He put a protection charm on the boy as an afterthought.  A strong one; the one Aurors used to avoid near misses.  He liked Steven’s tenacity.  For a kid as puny and weak as he was, Steven got into enough fights for a boy twice his size.  The charm for near misses seemed appropriate.

He let Sarah and Steven go back to their own lives, and went back to rebuilding his own.

Graves discovered that he liked cooking.  He liked finding fresh ingredients, and working with them to bring out their full potential.  He took to buying things at random, just to see what he could make with them.  Then he bought a No-Maj cookbook, because the No-Maj’s had some pretty good ideas about food.  

He experimented with cooking with magic and cooking the No-Maj way, which was slower and a lot more work.  Graves drew the line at cleaning the No-Maj way, though.  He wasn’t entirely human anymore, but he wasn’t crazy.

#my fic #unfinished ficbit #abandoned wip free to good home #percival graves #fbawtft

[trb-reacts]

The Raven Boys, Chapter 14

“When is Mom’s birthday?” Helen asked. Gansey was simultaneously pleased to hear her voice and annoyed to be bothered by something so trivial. For the most part, he and his sister got along well; Gansey siblings were a rare and complicated species, and they didn’t have to pretend to be something they weren’t around each other.

Umm, excuse you, Gansey. How dare you call your mom’s birthday trivial?? Also, I’m a little amused but glad to see that not all of my rich people stereotypes are coming up here. I expected all the siblings to be very cold with them *eyes at the Lynch brothers*, but that’s not the case and Gansey’s family seems pretty close with each other for most part? 

(Except for the dad, of course, who threatened to remove Gansey from inheriting anything if he gets below a B)

But, yeah, I’m just glad that there’s at least some healthy sibling relationships around here. 

“You’re the wedding planner,” Gansey said as a dog ripped out of nowhere. It barked furiously, trying to bite the Camaro’s tires.

Lol, I don’t know why with the way this is written, I’m beginning to think that Gansey’s car tires is made of rich people leather and that’s why the dog all of sudden just raised its head, went idk STEAK! and just ripped outta nowhere towards Gansey’s car tires. Also I’m amused because I just recall Gansey’s car is named the Pig, I think, which… makes sense why the dog is going after it?

Helen did not need to be anything. She didn’t have careers, she had hobbies that involved other people’s lives.

Oh, now that definitely sounds more like a rich person thing. She didn’t have careers, she had a fortune of old money to live off of. Oh wait, that’s not what it said? I think that’s just my bitterness towards these rich families coming out. Gee, how does Adam ever stand them?

Also, She didn’t have careers, she had hobbies that involved other people’s live, sounds like such a bored married housewife would nothing to do thing, like, uh, I have nothing to do ever since I don’t work, so let’s just gossip and try to backseat drive your life. 

In all honesty, I like Helen so far. The first thing she really called about is to ask about her mother’s birthday, which while shows that she does not remember, she at least cares?? And Gansey likes her, which is a nice vote of confidence in my book *just eyes at Ronan, my nonsecret fav in the book, and Adam, the sweetheart*. Yeah, so I don’t know why I’m kinda lowkey roasting her. I think I just don’t like too many hints of Old Money and Rich People, since I’m poor. 

A lab mix tied in front of the first house bayed dolorously as he passed. The other dog continued to worry at his tires, a snarl ascending with the engine note.

Why does it seem like there’s so many dogs in this neighborhood, though I do very much love dogs. 

Three kids in sleeveless shirts stood in one of the yards shooting milk jugs with BB guns; they shouted Hey, Hollywood! and affably aimed guns at the Pig’s tires. They pretended to hold phones by their ears. Gansey felt a peculiar stab at the three of them, their camaraderie, their belonging, products of their surroundings. He wasn’t sure if it was pity or envy. Everywhere was dust.

Oh, there was something about this scene. Three again, after the reading with Blue and Whelk last time, three kids. Gansey felt a peculiar stab at the three of them, their camaraderie, their belonging, products of their surroundings. Like, it sounds very much like envy, except Gansey does have kinda these things among the raven boys. The only issue is that, well, life is never as simple for Gansey or the raven boys as it could be for these three random kids, since life is always complicated when old money and a circle of influential family is involved. 

Also, just the ending of this paragraph. Everywhere was dust. Gansey couldn’t see clearly, just which one is which, envy and pity swirling together? Or was it a matter of showing how low these kids are compared to Gansey and his background, little specks that means nothing in the end, even if they have more - their camaraderie, their belonging, products of their surroundings - than Gansey thinks he can ever have. 

“I’m going to see a friend.” “The mean one, or the white trash one?” “Helen.” She replied, “Sorry. I meant Captain Frigid or Trailer-Park Boy.”

I would say that I’m not sure if I should be amused or offended, but that would be a lie. I’m offended. Is this prejudice against people who’s not born into the same rich background as them? I’m very happy that my mind knew what was up and was roasting her even before this line came up. 

Also, I think it’s kinda obvious by now, but Noah really isn’t actually part of the group. People refer to the boys as Gansey&Ronan&Adam. Noah is making very few appearances. 

“Dad calls them worse things,” Helen said.

I’m sorry, darling, but that’s really no excuse. You can think for yourself, can’t you, instead of pointing fingers and saying, Well, as least I’m not as mean as him!

Somehow seeing his parents always reminded him of how little he’d accomplished, how similar he and Helen were, how many red ties he owned, how he was slowly growing up to be everything Ronan was afraid of becoming.

Oh, intriguing. How little he has accomplished. Low self-esteem or just the idea that his value depends on how much he has accomplished, though I understand that in this case, it probably came from his upbringing. How much red ties, I’m not sure what that means. I think I’m mostly intrigued by how he was slowly growing up to be everything Ronan was afraid of becoming, mostly because I’m wondering if Gansey is also afraid of becoming that rich white guy as well. And just, also, the idea that Ronan is afraid instead of hate, as though Ronan thinks his potential to be what he doesn’t want to be is very much there to turn potential to reality. 

Fat, shiny carpenter bees swooped at his head, distracted from their work of destroying the stairs.

Bees… destroys stairs????

The idea that you had to pay for the beauty in Henrietta should have occurred to him before then, but it hadn’t. No matter how many times Adam told him he was foolish about money, he couldn’t seem to get any wiser about it.

Oh, Gansey, everything is paid in money, but you use it as easily as breathing. For some people, money is paid in breaths, in time, in huffs of breaths of toil and hours worked to accumulate for so little. 

There is no spring here, Gansey realized, and the thought was unexpectedly grim.

This is a profound line, but I’m mostly thinking about how it’s April and still it feels like fucking winter. No spring indeed for me, this year. Metaphorically applies too, since this year sucks for me so far. 

Adam’s knees bent as if he were going to scoot himself out from under the car, but then he didn’t. 

Gansey knew what this meant, this failure to immediately come out from beneath the car, and anger and guilt drew his chest tight. The most frustrating thing about the Adam situation was that Gansey couldn’t control it. Not a single piece of it. 

Oh, Adam. I don’t know if I want Adam to not come out because he doesn’t want Gansey to see that he is beat up for being caught after trying to sneak out, or because Adam is angry at Gansey. The former because Adam being so considerate just breaks my heart and the latter because I think Adam is the type to, in a very non-hyperbolic way, kill himself trying to help those he care about and I really want Adam to be able to… not exactly stand up for himself because Gansey doesn’t really bully Adam so much as ask him for stuff despite knowing it would be difficult for Adam, but at least be able to say no and be able to put himself before others on some occasions. 

A bruise spread over his cheekbone, red and swelling as a galaxy. A darker one snaked over the bridge of his nose.

</3 oh, Adam.

“And what about when Glendower takes you away from Henrietta?” Gansey couldn’t say it wouldn’t happen. “You come with.”

Oh, and Adam says his faith in Gansey’s dream is incomplete. When he says, though I supposed it is incomplete, at least in Gansey. Adam didn’t think Gansey would take him with him. 

Rags to riches isn’t a story anyone wants to hear until after it’s done. 

Too true, too heartbreaking. Everyone wants to hear a ‘I preserve, worked hard and I succeeded, it paid off’. Who wants to hear a ‘and I’m still trying, with no success in sight’? 

But it was a story that was hard to finish when Adam had missed school yet again. There was no happy ending without passing grades.

Don’t be so real, guys. Reality is setting in and this is not what I signed up for when I started reading this book. 

And this was an uneasy place to be, because Gansey knew it took a lot for Adam to accept his reasons for chasing Glendower. Adam had plenty of reasons to be indifferent about Gansey’s nebulous anxiety, his questioning of why the universe had chosen him to be born to affluent parents, wondering if there was some greater purpose that he was alive.

The poor are sad they’re poor, Adam had once mused, and turns out the rich are sad they’re rich. 

Sigh, the grass is always greener on the other side and I can imagine how much it sucks for Adam to see everything he ever wanted be in every other person’s hand, not because they earned it but because they were born with it. They have everything Adam ever wanted and still, they want more. 

And Ronan had said, Hey, I’m rich, and it doesn’t bother me.

Except ‘growing up to be everything Ronan was afraid of becoming’, yeah, being rich doesn’t bother Ronan. 

Success meant nothing to Adam if he hadn’t done it for himself.

I’m so proud of my son rn but also like, goddamnit Adam, let them help you a little. You don’t have to use connections for everything, but use the connection to get an opportunity to prove yourself, would you?

“You’ve watched too many cop shows.” “I’ve watched the evening news, Adam,”

Nice comeback, Gansey, mostly because i agree with him. This is one sad reality. 

“Why don’t you let Ronan teach you to fight? He’s offered twice now. He means it.”

I did not expect to hear this, but now I’m just so happy and proud. Ronan, wanting Adam to be able to defend himself, and offers to teach him. Ronan, offering twice. I’m so happy. 

“Because then he will kill me.” “I don’t follow.” Adam said, “He has a gun.”

Well, there goes my happiness out the door. Adam’s father sucks the life and happiness outta me and we haven’t actually even met him yet. Jesus. 

Not at the double-wides in the foreground, but past them, to the flat, endless field with its tufts of dry grass. So many things survived here without really living.

But… can I say ‘but they survive.’ Not living, but still, they survive. And if they survive long enough, they can transfer to a better environment where they can thrive. 

“It means I never get to be my own person. If I let you cover for me, then I’m yours. I’m his now, and then I’ll be yours.”

Yes and no. Yes, because I can see where Adam is coming, I really can, but… there’s a difference between receiving some help and owing someone so much that you owe them everything. But at the same time, I don’t think it’s ever about the degree of help Gansey exert, more like the more helpful the help was to Adam, the more Adam feels like he will owe, even if Gansey’s help might really involve an effortless phone call that would get Adam an interview for a job.

Some days, all that grounded him was the knowledge that his and Adam’s friendship existed in a place that money couldn’t influence.

Gansey, I don’t think you could ever say this so long as you and Adam’s social and monetary status is so different. You can probably say this about you and Ronan, but you’re naive if you thought so between you and Adam. 

“You don’t know how it makes people look at me and at you. It’s all they need to know about us. They’ll think I’m your monkey.“

Ouch. Just.. ouch. 

I am only my money. It is all anyone sees, even Adam.

You’re not only your money, Gansey, but that is a huge part of you. Adam is admittedly bothered by the glaring money part of you that stares him in the face all the time. 

“You’re as bad as her. You think you deserve it.”

Who’s her? Adam’s mom?

“Don’t pretend you know,” he said. “Don’t come here and pretend you know anything.” Gansey told himself to walk away. To say nothing else. Then he said, “Don’t pretend you have anything to be proud of, then.”

Oh Gansey, have you ever thought that it is exactly because Adam has nothing to be proud of that he clings onto his pride, the fact  that everything he has is because he earned it, because there is nothing else. He is building from bottom up, and it is true, people only want to hear stories of rag to riches. Would you have said the same, would you have been able to say those words, Gansey, if Adam already became rich?

As soon as he said it, he knew that it wasn’t fair, or even if it had been fair, it wasn’t right. But he wasn’t sorry he’d said it.

I would like to condemn Gansey, but… he is just awfully human, contradictory and acting on emotions and all. I can’t blame him, even if he shouldn’t have said it. The rich have their rich problem, the poor has theirs. 

He imagined coming here one day and finding that Adam wasn’t here, but in the hospital, or worse, that Adam was here, but that something important had been beaten out of him.

His pride or his life, Gansey, because I think you just tried to beat Adam’s pride out of him to save his life. And I’m not sure if that was for the better. 

… okay, I guess I’m not that forgiving towards Gansey. I can relate to Adam better, from one poor person to the other. 

Gansey could see his irises moving underneath the thin skin of his eyelids, a dreamer awake.

a dreamer awake, it said. Oh, this is so heartbreaking. Just… an optimist that had life lessons beaten into it one time too many for him to not turn into a realistic. And real life is that it is hard, it sucks, it’s not fair and not everyone would get what they deserve, even if they try. 

Now Adam looked at Gansey. There was something fierce and chilling in his eyes, an unnamable something that Gansey was always afraid would eventually take over completely. This, he knew, was a compromise, a risky gift that he could choose to reject.

In which Gansey asks for too much and when he learned to stop asking because he realize it costs Adam too much, Adam offers because… he’s Adam and Gansey is his friend. 

Adam’s breath stopped audibly. Through the windshield, Gansey met the eyes of Adam’s father.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckafkaslfdjgfkldfj. The price is high, so high. Adam, I know you said you need to return by 10, but please don’t. Please. Move in with Gansey, Ronan and Noah, finish up your college degree, get a good job, be successful, be happy. Don’t go back. 

Aaaand, we’ve come to the end of this chapter. What can I say besides too much had happened and emotions and risks run high. Next stop, back to Blue. 

#the raven boys #the raven cycle #chapter 14 #trb #trc

[survivingjapan]

EPISODE 14 “Pippa and the Boys.” - Pippa

Can I just say: Best.  Results.  Ever. Johnny is an AMAZING guy.  A favorite through and through.  However, him going was the best result from that rock draw (although maybe Trace/Dom/Pippa would've been better).  And without him, Trace and Dom are just kinda there.  They don't pose any immediate threat. What has now come out of this tribal is also just overall better for my game.  Drew? trusts me more.  Steffen? trusts me more.  Sarah and Crow? trust me a lot but like idk if it's more lol.  Junior? trusts me.  Tommy? needs me rn.  Andrew?  Welll actually... So Andrew and I have now had a conversation about our prior "beef" and it turns out, it was just both of us overthinking.  I know Andrew is a definite threat to me and my game, however we now will have a working relationship that can hopefully further my game more.  And he can actually maybe vote for me/I can vote for him in the end if we can continue working together from this day forward.  I was open about my vote against him and my slight like BLAH about him, and we talked it out and we're okay now !   Now, I just need to talk to Dom and Trace, try and wrap their heads around my game and we'll be gucci.  If I can go deep with connections piled on connections and people wanting to kill each other over me?  That's gold. Reminder that while I'm not the best gameplayer, I know how to work a jury.  I'm not a complete asshole.  I've learned.  Lying will get me nowhere and if Steffen wants to keep doing that, I'll genuinely go final 2/3 with him.  But I'm still not set on Drew or Sarah or Crow.  I loved all 3 of them, but they're so fucking smart.

http://youtu.be/B4Z0O0blbpY SHOOK

My names pippa and my confessional game is weak. So sarah just told me i play a great UTR game. IS that good? Idk but im not really being targetted. Im glad johnny went home in rocks last night. That just means i get no blood on my hands and i didnt have to take a good friend out. I can play nice with these people all i want but that doesnt mean im fond of any of them. Andrew wants to keep Crow in, I want Crow out. I don't trust him and he doesnt realize he buries himself in some holes with the stuff he says. Junior isnt my favorite rn either but i wanna know the 3 people who voted andrew. I know Brain was one, but who are the other two? Im convinced it was Crow and Sarah. Who knows????

Wow we have SO MUCH to fuckin talk about okay where I do even start. I guess I could go with all of the messy ass strategizing that happened yesterday. So keep in mind I'm at a state fair basically all day and have to communicate to these MANIACS on shitty barn wifi for 5 hours and get home only just in time for tribal. Basically all the heroes were in and out of each others' pms all day deciding between Sarah, Brian, and Crow for the vote. I obviously do not want Crow going. Pippa and I have a game relationship with him and we can't have him leaking about the hero idol. Plus he's kinda growing on me? Even though he's a sneak and might be the death of me he's super cool and kinda hilarious. Plus he's a connection to the villains so like. Yeah! Basically we kinda decide to finally go for Sarah but make it seem like we're doing Brian. Which just seems too damn simple. Meanwhile Crow is being sketched out by Pippa and I bc there was a villains plan to split up Johnny and Trace. I told this to Junior and I guess he assumed Crow was behind it so he started spreading that that was a plan and Crow got mad at me? But I'll say right here in confessionals that I did not drop Crow's name in that plan. But nonetheless the bird was suspicious. So blah blah damage control and it's like okay well Pippa and I were kinda thinking hmmm should we go for Trace or Johnny but like, it's too risky and we'll kill our games with the heroes. Life goes on yada yada I'm just sitting there stuffing my face with fried Oreos and suddenly Johnny drops into my pms and we're both just like it's 8 and we don't have an official vote so I suggest Johnny make a chat with just all the heroes to hash shit out and figure who we're voting. I need to make sure that they get away from Crow, and I'm just like voting Sarah is free all you have to do is type out 5 letters y'all but then Johnny... Johnny fucks up. And he says why don't we go for Junior :~) And in a chat with myself, him, Pippa, and Steffen, he tells us not to worry and that he has good reason for going for Junior and that we'll thank him after tribal. So there I am. Sitting there with half a fried Oreo in my mouth while Pat Benetar is singing We Belong in the distance (she was really there y'all at 64 idk how the fuck a bum fuck Connecticut state fair booked her she's doing great btw)... And I'm like. JOHNNY IS REALLY TRYIN IT??????? See, Junior made the Big Miss Steak of telling Johnny right before the Kendall tribal that he had the villain's idol. Now I knew before Johnny did, and I advised Junior don't. But he did! So! I fucking run to Junior and say play your damn idol because Johnny is really about to TRY. IT. And this is perfect because Junior could try getting the villains to vote out a threat like Johnny or Drew. But Junior says he doesn't have sway on the villains which is like DUH and I scream and I'm like idk try dude we have like 25 minutes! So he's telling me how he went to villains and got it onto Drew but told Sarah to vote Johnny and I'm freaking out just ever so slightly because I know I could possibly possibly possibly be the vote but it's w/e. And then Miss Sarah messages me at 9:01 asking who I voted and I'm like fuckin uuuuuuuuuuu Junior? I told Junior that I voted him to save face also. And I also told Pippa Junior was playing and idol so sorry Junior! But um yeah. Sarah is just like lol well Junior has an idol and I ask oh rip well who are they voting AND GIRL ISN'T ANSWERING BUT IS TALKING IN THE TRIBE CHAT. Naturally I begin to freak out, and on top of that Drew is going into full despair in my pms saying he feels something really bad coming. Sarah just knocked on my door in a grim reaper costume and just winked before walking away, Drew is having a full Dread Episode, Pippa is like nah you're good hold onto that idol boy, and Junior is like it's good I got the votes on Drew! I think... But yeah! I did... maybe. So obviously I am freaking the absolute fuck out and I just straight up go to Junior like uuuuuu did you tell anyone you're playing this idol and he said yeah and yes he told Sarah so HAHAHA. HAH. But it's fine right? There's no way they pulled a fast one and are just voting me. Right? :') Well tribal comes around and I'm on call with Pippa and she's saying it's fine. So Junior plays and Johnny is like oh fuck. Then Drew plays. And I'm like okay? Um. Yikes. And then Sarah plays some fuck shit that doesn't work and I'm way too stressed so I play my idol! And Junior gets 8 votes! And Drew gets 2! And I get 2! And like! HELLO? So to make a long mother fuckin story short... Johnny of all people is rocked out which was FANTASTIC. CHERRY ON TOP OF THE CAKE. He knew about the villains and the beauty idol so like he could go! Too strong. And he had to get blindsided soon anyway. So Johnny I love you dude and I actually gained way more of a liking to you than I already did from hosting you so you're awesome but WHEW. FAREWELL. And now it's the fallout. Honestly? That's the most pure euphoria I've ever felt in a single moment in a game. And after hearing all the info I have, I think I have this mostly figured out. I freak a little in the chat and Tommy tells me he voted Junior which would make sense because he got 8 votes. Sarah comes and tells me she didn't vote for me, and says that she knows I voted her which w/e be a Petty Betty™ but she says that maybe if someone told her who voted her then maybe she'd tell me who voted me and I think I finally convinced her it wasn't me because I said at this point I'd trade the info? But idk oh well. Also Crow doesn't come forward confirming or denying he voted me, and I approached Brian and he admitted he voted me. Which btw that was the first time we talked in a while, and it's also just some outside of the game things but I think we ultimately hashed everything out. Anyway, Junior voted Drew so my votes were Brian and one of Sarah or Crow. And the other voted Drew. And I'll be pissed if Crow voted me tbh. But we'll see. The thing is though, Crow said to Pippa and I that himself, Sarah, Brian, and Tommy were all on call and typed in Junior, and then stepped away from their computers or something. Which is a damn lie obviously. So I decided to look back at the merge chat during tribal for shits and giggles, and then the reactions of the villains when I played my idol in particular made shit click. They were pretty standard when Junior and Drew played, but when I played was when Crow, Brian, and Sarah started yelling about rocks. And in the back of my mind I didn't think of it much at first but I was just like okay I guess? And then Crow comes to my pms and say congrats on avoiding rocks which was also confusing. But it didn't hit me till after re reading the chat that they definitely split on purpose, and the villains knew that once I played that all of the votes were gonna be null. And they were gonna go to rocks. So now I have to keep an eye out on Crow. Because there's no way he didn't know this was happening. It's all just so sketchy and idk where to go from here, but I know I need Sarah out. She's just way too chaotic, and in a weird way she saved me by sketching me out at 9:01 but also she makes everything very chaotic. She's grown on me personally but she's wild to play with. I guess I can just make a confessional on what happens now because I have shit to say about talks I had with Steffen and Drew. And this confessional got thicc as fuck so. Hope whoever read this essay enjoyed the reading material!

hi loves it's been a while! after i went through my therapy sessions, I decided that it was time to pick up the pieces of my emotional stability and make a fragile little glass ball! and then guess what happened! these fucking fools shattered it. So after merge, i came in thinking lil crow could blend into the shadows and take a day to relax! but then crow is told he has to pick a side immediately and vote out Kendall w/ Johnny/Pippa/Andrew or Junior w/ Sarah/Brian/Drew crow voted Junior cuz junior is a snake that crow has warned others about! junior stayed! kendall went. i was in minority. so after that, i ghosted the hoes. I was over it, i had more important things than these people, but then im alerted that its "me or brian" HELL NO. OH DONT U EVEN DARE TRY AND TARGET ME AND MY SON so crow caused a little bit of chaos with bullshit lies. he told andrew/pippa that he heard they wanted him out (which he didn't!) and then told hinted to johnny that the heroes were cracking (which probably was true but crow had no proof!) ALSO, he threw out trace's name for the lolz! then after I sat back and let them rat me out (cuz i know they're all rats!) they caused their own paranoia, erasing mine and Brian's name from the slate. =) in a last ditch effort to have comfort in numbers, a group was formed to vote out the ultimate snake, junior. 8 minutes b4 tribal junior comes to me asking to work with me and build trust and yadada and knowing there was a good chance he had an idol, crow played phony and told him that we needed to keep the villains strong! (thus protecting his core of brian and sarah). he agreed and suggested to vote drew, so i pretended to agree! then when junior, drew, and andrew pulled idols out of their asses, i sat pretty knowing I received no votes - but nervous about the inevitable rocks. then i drew a rock and production really TRIED me by putting me at #2 but im better than them and survived! so now im sitting in final 11 with my besties and in a somewhat decent position for a change! =)

Andrew is a paranoid ass hoe, first he thinks the second vote for him came from Sarah, then Drew....when in actuality I was the one who tried blindsiding him last tribal, I swear at this point this boy is spilling all this anti-Drew tea to me and now I'm just reveling in it because I still know Drew has an idol and when Andrew feels its time to strike, tbh it'll be time to use that idol on Drew and destroy Andrew in the process, making Drew a bigger target and next to go tbh, but right now we just need Sarah to use her idol, then take a villain out and our villainous plot will be in motion, I like evil

So Pippa or myself might be dying. Drew voted me according to Junior along with Brian who I knew bc Drew is still convinced I gave Crow the idol which yes I did but. Leave me alone! Honestly just trying to get Sarah out this round but she has that weird reset idol and also could have a merge idol so idk man. I kinda have a bad feeling about tonight and if I get these double digits again catch me going into a major depressive episode! Trace and I decided on Sarah early this morning and seemingly got Dom and Steffen on board? Dom I guess is hero strong and Steffen... I really hope he wouldn't vote me out. Or even Pippa. And then Junior wants Sarah out so like here we go I guess! Idk what the fuck Drew is gonna do because he's a snake. Sarah requested us working together today but it was bullshit. Lmao! Farewell! I'm probably dead. Or Pippa is. Last weird thing is I guess is I told Crow it's me or myself (played dumb about if it could be Pippa) and he said he wasn't letting either of those things happening? Idk! If Crow can work some magic and save me that's fine. Idk man. A bird will either save me or kill me tonight. Or Drew. Or Sarah. Pippa? BEYONCE? I'm so tired can we just have the tribal already? Also if Steffen flips I'm snapping his neck.

So if everyone votes the way they say they are, no weird items are played, and Crow throws his vote, then it could really go to rocks. Fuck! 15 minutes till my imminent death at 11th place :')

I finna think Sarah's gonna die this round and I miss her already.  A true fucking queen.  I'm so glad I finally worked with a girl in a game and that it was her because I couldn't imagine playing with anyone else.

#returnrevengeredemption #confessionals