#you know its funny to be so scared of dieing and also be fucking suicidal

[j3st3r-13]

*clears throat*

dad trevor, with the reader being their teen kid (can be fem or neutral doesn't matter)

ty!

trevor philips with a teen!kid

anon this is my fucking jam

let's be honest here you were either the result of some hookup or he found you on the street. it really doesn't matter because your dad loves you no matter what 100% of the time.

you could try and kill him and he'd be like okay crazy calm down and go back to bed.

depending on the time period wade and chef are your uncles or brad lester and Mikey are your uncles. either way, your the most protected kid on the planet, nobody and I mean nobody fucks with you.

trev will teach you how to shoot from the moment you can hold a gun. you scap with whoever whenever. uncle M says that you inherited feralness from your dad (he's right)

you are the only one who can calm Trevor down, sometimes you can't but mostly you can. you are also the only one he would ever consider giving up meth for.

sorry sweetie he would die for you but he won't give up his criminal lifestyle for you. he's gonna die with a gun in his hand whether you like it or not.

trev teaches you everything you know, how to read, write, hotwire anything, ride a bike, fly a plane, and load a gun. he's your sole teacher which probably isn't good in the long run, but he's fun.

Trevor's suicidal tendencies are gone with you, he can't imagine leaving you behind, especially by his own hand. its the main reason why he forgives Michael he gets it now.

(im imagining you an older teen like 19/20. traces age)speaking of Michael you were heartbroken to find out uncle mickey was dead, and you mourned him alongside your dad, only to find out he's alive and well?! you practically kick the door in yourself.

you cant forgive uncle M for a long time but you do enjoy that you have your best friends Tracey back. It's a heartwarming reunion and even jimmy takes a second away from his dick and his game to hug you.

if you are an older teen like 'the 20's'20s then you might date franklin or Lamar,(only if you wanted to and I was gonna include trace but it is kinda weird ) anyway trev would be furious and pleased if you dated someone like frank. he knows and respects frank but franks also shit scared of your dad win-win.

your dads is surprisingly cool with you dating as long as it's all age-legal and shit. he doesn't care if you hook up/friends with benefits but if you dated so he'd wanna know as soon as. mostly so he can do his whole scary dad routine. ( he does this for fun, he trusts you to be smart and date who you like, I mean he fell in love with a mexicans wife he held hostage)

when you get older you'd move into a nearby trailer, taking up the whole block. It's funny TPI trailers are a mess and yous look semi-decent.

overall, Trevor an amazing father, not a very conventional one but someone you can turn to and trust. he's your friend first but a protective father second. he loves you and you have some badass parents

oh god I dont even wanna think about something sensible...

#grand theft auto 5 imagines #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #gta v #gta v trevor #gta headcanons #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #trevor philips x teen!reader #gta v headcanons

[swatchitt]

c!wilbur ending rant (is that mf really american?)

content warning; mentions of or implications to fictional suicide

So I'm assuming all the c!wilbur enthusiasts have heard the infamous 'minecraft utah is not real, and it's definitely not an allegory for death' line. Now to be entirely honest never did I once believe Wilbur fucking Soot would just end his story arc with anything but a REAL conclusion and considering the mf went for 'wow I'm a American, bye smp' I was confused for a bit. So he's dead. Makes sense for the way his character was and it was way more conclusive - completely understandable from cc!wilbur.

But in reference to this, is Wilbur actually American than? Or was that just some random ploy to lie to Tommy and convince him he wasn't going to die?

One, if he was American he'd be the fattest fucking hypocrite I've ever seen in my life and two, it wouldn't be much of an allegory if he was also half telling the truth. He spits all this shit about being a worker at a gas station for 16 years, which pissed me off cause if he had said 13, I would have assumed he was in reference to his Limbo years. Unfortunately not.

He also talks about his jacket and everything before coming to the smp. Which is hard to research into because going back to old streams feels pointless when it's very unlikely Wilbur planned this story right from the start. Overall him being American doesn't make much sense other than just for the brief pieces of info on his backstory we got within the stream.

So say he is lying, he isn't American. He's made up an allegory to appease Tommy. Rewatching the final streams was weird because of his whole rant on Utah and how he wasn't going to kill himself doesn't all line up with the allegory without some 'he's just lying' moments. So hypothetically it turns out to be a 'oh I am going to kms, but I'm using different language to not scare the shit out of you!'. We never found out what was in the book to Tommy (or that I know of) so we can't base anything off that either. And Tommy himself clearly believes that Wilbur went to Utah because he tells other people that. We hear Philza say 'Where did he go again? Utah was it?' when they meet up at his revival shrine thing. Unless Tommy deciphered this shit (maybe with the help of that book), but then why would he be lying to Philza? Don't think Tommy would wanna lie about the state of the guy's son to his face.

I think it's funny in hindsight, because within the qsmp stream Wilbur says that Minecraft Utah is an allegory, he says it triggers him, like he was bothered no one picked up on that fact and assumed he was being truthful? It wasn't particularly obvious because what the hell were we supposed to do with 'I worked at a gas station for 16 years,' no one can just claim 'oh that was clearly a lie' because we don't have much evidence to back that up. Most of the stuff cc's say about their characters we have to take literally because its a MINECRAFT SERVER.

His ending was something, you know. I feel like there's some overarching answer to it all but knowing Wilbur and his ARG, he's not big on giving away answers so everyone's gonna be clueless, atleast for a while. And plus I doubt anyone really wants to reference back to the 'glory days of the smp' because it went for so goddamn long and its rightfully over now. His ending definitely wasn't as badly executed as Tommy's, but god a lot of mixed signals there.

Something I do wanna say though, I see a lot of people say that Wilbur's 'born and raised in Utah' line was in reference to Lady Death or Kristin being his mother which is all well and good but I think it has deeper inclinations than that.

Wilbur was revived. He was quite literally raised from the dead. Thought that was a cool reference if it was indeed intended.

And than yknow, maybe Wilbur's just absolutely useless at tone, and he wasn't be sarcastic saying 'it's definitely not an allegory for death'. Who tf knows.

Anyway if someone else is more inclined to do research or knows something I've completely glossed over, please tell me! Love to hear from the Tumblr guys.

(Rare rant maybe. perhaps I'll get too comfortable on this platform. And god that was long, sorry you had to read all that.)

#wilbur soot #dream smp #dsmp wilbur #c!wilbur #rant #rant post #character rant #text post #dsmpblr #revivebur

[ratmonky]

Roulette

Very self indulgent... 

AO3 Link

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: gun play, dub-con, russian roulette, suicidal behavior/near death experiences

You’re in debt.

You can’t seriously pay it off and with no amount of gambling you could win the money you lost back.

“Your face... the despair in your face makes me so wet...”

You stare at Midari, she’s blushing and a strand of drool streams down from her mouth to her chin as she presses her thighs together.

It’s only you and her in the bathroom stall but it feels like a thousand eyes are all on you. The only noise of ragged breathing also belongs to Midari and although she’s just sitting in front of you in the toilet, it feels as if she’s right in your face.

One of her hands press against her clothed pussy underneath her skirt and she moans. You can’t tell if it’s because she just had a sick idea or she likes to see you broken a little too much.

You wished it was the latter but if you were that lucky you wouldn’t be here in the first place.

“How about we play a game?” Midari pointed her gun at you, you flinched.

“I can’t,” you whimpered. “Midari, I don’t have any money left. I can’t play anymore.”

“This is a game where you win even if you lose.” Midari’s chuckle was dark, it promised something dark to come.

“What?”

“If you lose, I’ll clear your debt.” Her eye was glossy as if she was about to cry.

You knew her too well because that couldn’t be just it. It was too good to be true.

“What’s the catch?” you asked, regaining some of your confidence.

She suddenly smiled wickedly. “I want you to be my pet. I always liked your naïve and stupid nature. I’ll clear your debt.”

Well, you could do that but...

“What if I win?”

“Your debt will be cleared and you’ll get all my remaining money. No other conditions or funny games.”

A smile spread across your face, you were going to win nonetheless. She was generous only to you, but again something just wasn’t right. You chose to ignore it. As long as your debt got cleared you didn’t care what was to come.

You took a step forward and pushed her gun away from your face. “What are we playing?”

Your question sparked something within Midari, another dark chuckle left her and she lifted her gun to point it at the side of her head. “Midari’s Russian Roulette.”

You froze as she cocked the gun. The click sound echoed louder than it should have and a gasp left your lips.

“Midari!” you gawked, “you can’t do something stupid like that! What if you die?!”

“That means you've won!” Midari laughed, her hand between her thighs moved inside her panties and she started fingering herself. She was laughing hysterically but she kept inhaling sharply and it made her laughter sound like she was crying. “It gets me so excited to play with you again. I wanna play with you until I take my last breath!”

“Midari!” You took another step to reach for the gun but she suddenly pointed it at you without warning and pulled the trigger with a vicious smile.

“Bang!” she yelled. 

The click sound that came from the gun was faint but your ears were ringing nonetheless. Your heartbeat had gone haywire. Still, you could hear Midari’s fingers going in and out of her pussy with gushy sounds. Her breathing had become irregular but her moans were louder than ever.

“Ahh,” she moaned, scissoring her fingers out of her slick heat. “That was so exciting. I almost came!”

You opened your mouth to say something but the words didn’t come. You could have died. Would she still continue to masturbate if you were laying on the floor bleeding to death?

You didn’t want to know the answer.

“One bullet,” Midari’s voice was choked up, she licked the muzzle of the gun while moaning. “You were lucky, so lucky! I wonder if I’ll be as lucky…”

You wanted to ask her to stop but she had already sucked the muzzle in her mouth. 

There was a hesitation in her eye and you could see how scared she was from the way her fingers stopped moving in her pussy. Midari took a sharp breath and cocked the gun, her finger trembled against the trigger and it was quiet.

She stopped breathing. Her lips stretched to form the evilest smile you had ever seen as her eye rolled to the back of her head. 

Your throat hurt, your face was strained with tears, you weren’t sure when you had started crying. 

Midari pulled the trigger.

Click.

You gasped. 

Midari’s mouth opened and she closed her eye before pulling the gun out of her mouth to scream in joy. She reached forward and abruptly pulled you into her lap. 

Her lips clashed with yours in barely a second, her tongue forced its way in and you did nothing to stop her. Instead, you closed your eyes and melted into the kiss, your arms wrapped around her neck and tilted your head to kiss her back. 

Midari dropped the gun on the tile floor and her free hand went into your hair while her fingers started moving inside her pussy once again. She pulled her hair, breathing heavily into your mouth and taking the lead in the kiss. 

You tasted as sweet as you looked.

Her fingers carded through your hair and slowly snaked their way down to your thigh and under your skirt. Midari’s fingers that were drawing circles on her clit momentarily stopped as her other hand grabbed your pussy. 

You jerked on the sudden act but then you rolled your hips to signal her to continue as your mouth was busy being ravished by her tongue. 

Midari dragged a finger along your slit before pulling your panties aside. She smiled against your lips because of how wet you were. Even though you wouldn’t admit it, not even to yourself, Midari knew how alike you two were in this sense. 

You were a freak. Just like her and god… that was why she loved you so much,

You gasped softly into her mouth, your arms tightening around her neck to pull her closer. 

She moaned and started using her entire arm to finger your twitching cunt as her own fingers were drawing tight circles on her clit. The pleasure made your head spin. You couldn’t focus on anything, you hardly noticed how Midari had stopped kissing you and was biting your neck. 

Midari kept adding more fingers to shove into your cunt. Your gummy walls throbbed around her slender fingers and she smirked at your reaction as she pulled her fingers out. Then she pulled at the tender skin of your folds just enough to make you gasp before she spread her legs. You whined at the emptiness but she chose to ignore it.

Leaning back, Midari continued playing with her clit and stared at you with her glossy eye, “Strip.”

Ahh, right. You had lost.

Without saying anything, you got up from her lap and stood in front of her. You took off your cardigan first, then your shirt, and your panties. Midari gasped, her moans were getting louder with each time you exposed more of your skin. Her fingers fastened as you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. Slitting the straps off your shoulders, you let your bra fall down with a soft thud. 

“Lift your skirt,” she demanded. Midari’s face was redder than red, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were wet with her drool. Her voice wasn’t as clear, she was getting close, you could see it in her eye and her legs that were twitching.

Your fingers tentatively grabbed the hem of your skirt and very sluggishly lifted it. 

“Good girl,” she managed to say, her fingers stopped moving to savor the moment… or not. She leaned down onto the floor to grab the gun again and you gasped, dropping your skirt back.

You took a step back when she pointed the gun at you. “Midari, it’s not funny!”

She laughed nonetheless. “Come here.” Her fingers slipped inside her heat and her hand holding the gun shook from pleasure. 

“No.”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

Reluctantly, you moved forward until you were right beside her. 

Midari used the muzzle to lift your skirt and snickered when you flinched. “Don’t move or this may end bloody.”

You nodded.

She pushed the muzzle against your pussy, coating it with your juices. A moan left her mouth and you joined her shortly after she slid the gun along your folds. 

You held onto her shoulder for support, Midari left a breathy laugh. Her legs twitched as she let out a whimper, her lips parted and moaned your name in pleasure. 

Her climax had already come and shook her to the core. It took her a long moment to collect herself before she returned all of her attention to you. Without warning she showed the muzzle in your cunt, forcing you to spread your legs wider. 

“M-Midari!”

She ignored your plea and pulled the gun out before suddenly pushing it in your heat as far as it could go. It was mind-numbingly erotic. All you could think about was the feeling of the cold metal that was barely kissing your cervix. 

Your arms wrapped around her neck and your fingers twirled around her long straight hair, moaning quietly into her neck each time she hit a sensitive spot. Midari shoved the gun further inside each time you screamed or whimpered.

“Cum,” Midari said, continuing to mercilessly thrust the gun into your pussy, “Cum now or I’ll pull the trigger.”

Your eyes rolled back to the back of your head at the threat, completely lost in the sweet ecstasy of the feeling of the metal dragging along your walls. The squelching sounds coming from your pussy were louder than the sounds of Midari’s heavy breathing.

“Midari,” you breathed her name in between your sweet moans of pleasure, “more.” 

With a maniac laugh, Midari slammed the gun into you with an amazing force, tearing a silent scream out of you. She started to fuck you frantically almost immediately. Her free hand went to rub tight circles around your sensitive spot. 

You heard Midari cock the gun.

“W-what?-”

Her fingers drew tight circles around your clit as the gun relentlessly thrust in your cunt. You began shaking, your legs nearly gave up from under you but you managed to stand still before the white pleasure took over you and you fell into Midari’s arms.

Your chest heaved and she laughed, brushing your hair aside from your face to kiss you sloppily, covering you in her drool. 

Midari smirked, pulling away from the kiss. “I win!”

#dub-con #gun play

[babiesdreams]

Superhuman +18 Chapter 1

Warnings: Violence, mentions of blood, smoking, mentions of suicide, gore(?.

Renjun’s story:

She came to me when I was just sixteen. I knew something was wrong with me since a long time ago, but her presence made it worse. She always makes feelings much more intense and pure... It’s really hard to leave feelings aside.

You know my... powers are related to feelings, the purest feelings are the strongest power source. I’m basically a generator. Anger and sadness are usually the best ones.  

I finally got out of my home, I was gonna start a new life, a new stable and normal life. For once I wouldn’t be judged for being too shy, or not letting my feelings in, or for being “a psychopath” 

But then she passed by, offered me a cigarrette and whispered how she knew everything. I felt like my whole life plan ended right there, but she was right. If I simply ignore my abilities I’m only making it worse, I had to learn more about them, and use them in my own advantage. I needed to know how to properly control it before getting into another messy life, before hurting anyone else, so she was a savior at the time.

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“You have to meet them” 972 shouted at me. “I don’t want to, we can just go as a duo” I screamed back. “Huang Renjun, your anger levels aren’t under control, please relax, or I’ll have to call security” 

“I don’t want others to get involved with me” A soft wave moves the air around me, as I start getting more and more angry. “You know what happened” 

“Huang Renjun, control yourself or I might take action” 972 kept her angry tone, making it worse. “Let me go alone on the mission” My eyes fire up with anger, feeling how my power grows inside of me. “Stop. Now” She demands, making everything worse. 

A big explosive wave brushes the whole place, destroying everything on its way. I fall on my knees, crying for what I just did. “I can’t have a team, I’m a monster, I’ll fuck everything up” I shout with a broken voice tone. For a moment I thought she was dead, but then her voice sounded in the distance.

“We all are monsters here” Her voice whispers as her hand rests on my shoulder. “We... all... are” She whispers with a sad tone.

Shotaro’s story:

Since I was born, the weather changed along with my mood, if I cried, it would start raining. If I was angry, it would turn into a thunderstorm. I think you get it. The thing is that at first I was quite good at controlling my mood, but growing up made it harder and harder, to a point that I couldn’t control anything about it. I got scared of feeling, and isolated myself for months, but that only made it worse.

When I got in here, I wanted to learn how to destroy my powers, ended up knowing how to control them. Now it’s not at all linked to emotions, more like I have full control over the weather, I can change it as I want. 

I was known for being the best at controlling my powers and even if they’re not the most powerful ones I think my ability to control them made me stronger, that’s how I ended up being the leader.

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“Guys you need to practice more” I say calmly. “Why would we practice? we are quite strong” Jisung says, not taking his eyes off the screen as he plays some stupid videogame. “It doesn’t matter how strong you are if you can’t control it” I say calmly, trying to make them understand. “You’re just jealous of our powers” Jaemin spits out, taking another chip into his mouth.

“You all are bombs, uncontrollable bombs, that’s not useful at all. Sure you’re powerful, but you’re basically dangerous for everyone” I say with a more serious tone. “Should I make him think we are training?” Chenle asks to the rest. “I heard you” I tell him.

But all the mess calms down when Renjun stands up. “Let’s go train, he’s right” He says with a serious voice and everyone follows. I sigh, feeling useless in comparison to his natural leader abilities, but yet glad that he helped me with it. 

Jaemin’s story: healing body (His fluids heal any harm)

I realized when I was a kid, I used to cry whenever I got hurt and then everything was fine. It got more intense when I kinda saved my mother.

I was holding her hand, focused on the beats produced by some machine. The sudden beep, made me anxious. I didn’t really know what to do, I panicked and started crying and when I realized she was fine again. 

With time and some exploring I realized it wasn’t only my tears that healed people, but all my fluids. Someone could be dying and if I licked his hand, they’d be completely fine. It feels like a lot of responsability tho, you never know the story behind someone dying.

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The agonizing man starts choking on his own blood, trying to breath, yet unable to do so. I roll his body, getting him to rest on one side, to stop him from choking. I take his bloody hand and lick his index finger. 

Seconds later, the blood stops coming out from his mouth, and the cuts on the man’s stomach dissappear. “What did you do?” He says with a low voice tone. I look at him challenging, sometimes people really are ungrateful. “I just saved your life” I reply, proud of myself.

“Nobody asked you to do so” He shouts at me. “S-sir, I saved your life” I say stuttering. “They are gonna get my family if I don’t die you idiot” He shouts at me. I step back, scared of his words, letting tears fall down my cheeks. “I-I didn’t, I didn’t know that” 

That’s where I discovered that saving a life sometimes mean killing others. Butterfly effect. Maybe someday I could have saved a serial killer and then how many deaths would I be responsible for? I needed to learn that I can’t save everyone and sometimes I need to let people die. 

Jeno’s story:

I was an average student when I found out. Well actually I was a pretty stupid teenager. Classes were boring so I just went around with my friends, play games, and live life I guess. One day I saw soe students bullying a transfered kid, and I got into the fight.

I have always been pretty strong, so fights were an easy task for me. However those kids were much older than me, and I was alone. So they basically beated me up, until I did it. I don’t even know how I did it, I was just angry.

Trash from bins started floating, making people concern as to what was happening. I’ve heard my eyes turn red whenever I use my abilities so that might have helped to make them fear me. But after that day I became the school’s king.

Being at that place I started to hating my powers. I just wanted to feel normal, to be normal. But I guess that’s something none of us can really achieve. So I just kept training my brain and try to be better.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Get out of the way” I say to Jaemin. The scared boy gets behind me, making me feel his shaking hands on my back. “So you want to die sir?” I say, looking at him with a fierce look. The man nodded, so sure of his decision, and I smiled at him.

“Have a nice trip” I say, while concentrating on the knife resting on the floor a few meters away. I held the knife mentally in front of him, pointing at his neck. “Do it” He says, crying desperately. “Look away” I whisper to Jaemin, before tearing his throat open. My figure gets covered by the man’s blood, while he dies slowly in front of my eyes. 

I throw the knife a few meters away, still not touching it for a split second. “It’s done” I say lowly, turning around to face Jaemin. My bloody hands hold his face, trying to calm him down. My fingers clean his tears, replacing them with blood.  “It���s fine” I whisper, letting him hug me tightly. 

The bloody scenario felt specially creepy under the moonlight, so I understand how Jaemin felt so guilty about everything. Still, he needed to grow up for future missions.

Jisung’s story: 

I remember looking up to superheroes like Spiderman or Hulk, or Superman. But being super strong isn’t exactly the best. Plus people don’t trust me when I say I’m strong. Of course, I tried to hide it, since all heroes in movies do that. But, it felt wrong somehow... Letting people take advantage of weaker people. Even letting people take advantage of me. 

So I decided to go anonymously, that way nobody would know who I was. But, again, nobody took me seriously. My family was also not doing so good, so I got into some illegal businesses. 

A guy decided to trust me and I started getting into street fights. I won money thanks to people’s bets. It wasn’t the best job, but at least I had something, and I stayed anonymous so they couldn’t interfere in my normal life. 

However I started to get tired of it and I stopped going there. I didn’t expect them to find me so fast.

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“We had a contract” The old man says. I couldn’t stop trembling from fear. “Put the gun away” A woman’s voice says from behing the old man. He turns around, to find out how his bodyguards were already dead on the floor. 

The gun the man was holding started melting in his hand. “W-what are you?” He asked stuttering. The girl chuckled, and inmediately after a hole appeared where the man was standing, making him fall. His fingers held the floor, to stop himself from falling helplessly. 

“Hi, Park Jisung , I’m 972, I would like to recruit you into our team. What do you say?” Her eyes were fiercer than any eyes that ever looked at me, kinda hypnoticing. The grunts of the old man resonated all over the room, but they eventually stopped when she stepped on his fingers, breaking them with her heels. The fall was slow and long, ending with a disgusting sound, as the old man reached the floor somewhere at the bottom of the hole.

“I’m interested” I finally say, shaking the smiling girl’s hand.

Chenle’s story: 

Changing people’s percception is so funny. I can literally get away from every situation. I’ve never got punished for anything at all. Plus I can do whatever I want, no limits, no judgements. 

Sure, sometimes I don’t quite control what they are seeing instead of what I’m doing, like that time I was borrowing some clothes from a shop and people were seeing me pee on the clothes. I got arrested anyway. But I know how to use my power, that’s why I think training is stupid. 

We are basically gods, our powers’ limits are barely there, so let’s just have fun right? right?

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“Let jun take care of this” 972 says, making all of us stay aside. I turn to look at Jaemin and Jisung, changing their perception so that they would see everything going fine, but I looked.

A loud sound scared all of us, and the buildings around the zone he was in started falling apart, getting reduced to ashes. People’s screams were really horrifying, something I will never be able to forget. And a loud growl from Renjun followed, filling the air with anger. “W-what happened?” Jaemin asked confused. 

“You have some work to do hyung” I told him, letting him finally see what really happened. He fell on his knees seeing all the victims from Jun’s powers. “You think you can do it?” I ask him doubting the limits of his abilities. 

“I can” His voice was shaky but I trusted 972′s plan. “Zhong Chenle get the living victims and make them think nothing happened. I’ll get the buildings back to normal. Lee Jeno, find the enemy’s body and bring it here. Remember, no fingertips on anything. Osaki Shotaro and Jung Sungchan get Na Jaemin to the victims. Park Jisung, you stay here in case I need protection” She ordered, while the buildings started getting back to normal. 

“On our way” We all shouted at the same time. It was something chaotic, but it worked out. “Now I’m gonna get an agent from unit V. Thanks for your collaboration, Unit D. You can all go now” 

Missions are always like that, cold-hearted and all about “Getting the job done”

Sungchan’s story:

I touched my grandma’s old clock. And I saw my grandfather, when he was younger, fighting in war, leaving home, giving her the clock. Everything happened in front of my eyes so fastly, I couldn’t really...

It took me a really long time to really get used to it. And when I did I hated the feeling. I wore gloves everywhere, so that I wouldn’t touch nothing directly. But avoiding it made it worse. Much worse. Because when it happened accidentally I could see more than what I normally would have.

The thing is that I thought my powers were more of an inconvenience than something useful. Until my father got that complicated case about a “Suicide” I touched the letter she wrote, and the chair he got over to hang herself up. Except it didn’t happen like that. 

Someone else wrote the letter and she was forced to stand on the chair that the man kicked, making her die instantly. I told my father my theory, and they got enough proof to take the responsible man. That’s when I felt like a hero. I thought I found my future profession as a detective.

I read all Sherlock Holmes books, idolizing what he did, wanting to be just like him, and now I have my chance.

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I touched her face, and I saw everything she went through, who she really was. 

“Jung Sungchan, we talked about this didn’t we?” She says calmly. I nod, recalling her words about not touching her, probably to avoid me knowing her secrets. “We all have secrets here, we need to help each other okay?” I nod once again, and watch as her figure gets lost in the distance, still trying to process the information.

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#nct #nct scenarios #nct imagine #nct reactions #nct dream #nct dream angst #superhero #nct superhero au #hero #nct dream hero #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop reactions #kpop scenario #requests #requests open #nct blurb #nct blurbs

[occasionalrpmemes]

Will Wood: the Normal Album Sentence Starters

lines taken from the 2020 album.  edit as desired.  tw: violence, disordered eating, gender dysphoria, mental illness, substance abuse, suicidal ideation, death

01.  Suburbia Overture: Greetings from Mary Bell Township! / (Vampire) Culture / Love Me, Normally

“Trick or treat.  Merry Christmas.”

“Howdy neighbor!”

“Thank you Jesus!”

“It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die.”

“You’re not alone.”

“The lights are on, but no one’s home.”

“Takes a village to fake a whole culture.”

“Home is where the heart is- You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless.”

“It’s the safest on the market.”

“You still gotta watch where you park it.”

“Give me your half-life crisis.”

“I can tell that you know where paradise is.”

“Parasites don’t care what your blood type is.”

“A snowflake only matters in a blizzard.”

“Everyone knows that nobody knows that.”

“Well, word gets around on hit number stations.”

“Smile and wave, boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love, please pass the pills.”

“It’s only culture.  It’s only culture.  It’s only culture.”

“Didn’t they want your blood?”

“Why apologize when you turn blue and cold?

“Hey, fuck your culture.”

“Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn?”

“Hey, you’re only mortal.”

02.  2econd 2ight 2eer (well, that was fun, goodbye)

“The devil made me do it, but I also kinda wanted to.”

“Forget bored stiff, I got rigor mortis.”

“My third eye’s open and I like what I see.”

“If you knew what I knew, if you saw what I see- ”

“But I got facts and I’m not afraid to use ‘em.”

“I’m getting better one forever at a time.”

“If sick is defined by what’s different, well then pull the plug out and let me die.”

”Who I am, I choose through all the things I do.”

“If it rhymes, it’s true, but I hate poetry.”

“Well that was fun, goodbye.”

03.  Laplace’s Angel (Hurt People?  Hurt People!)

“Have you ever died in a nightmare?  Woke up surprised you hadn’t earned your fate?”

“Have you ever felt like Atlas, threw your back out on the axis, and collapsed and threw the planet away?”

“Nobody dies agnostic.”

“Nobody dies agnostic, but we still dial 9-1-1.”

“Am I really that bad?”

“Whatever you think of me, if you were in my shoes, you’d walk the same damn miles I do.”

“With my head up in the clouds, I can see so much ground.”

“From up here, you look like ants in a row.”

“It doesn’t take a killer to murder.  It only takes the reason to kill.”

“The difference twixt fate and free will is whether you’re singing.”

“You wash your hands of where you’ve been until you flood the second floor.  Neatly fold your skeletons, but still can’t shut the closet door.”

“The only ones in need of love are those who don’t receive enough.”

“You could break an angel’s fall, and ignore the Devil’s call.”

“It’s a small hell after all.”

“Man, no more than animal, is made of moral chemicals.”

“If you were in my shoes, you’d see I wear the same size as you.”

04.  I / Me / Myself

“I’ve been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin.”

“Am I pretty now?”

“For some reason, I find myself lost in what you think of me.”

“I wish I could be a girl, and that way you’d wish I could be your girlfriend, boyfriend.”

“Am I pretty enough to lie to?”

“Just little old me in a big, big world.”

“I’ve been feeling lighthearted since I gained enough weight back to cover my bones.”

“You’ll be walking out early, but the show must go on.”

“No, I know that I’m wrong.  But I love how you’re on my side when I cross that line.”

“It’s been a point of contention between myself and this body that they stuck me in.”

“The privilege of being born to be a man.”

”I am quantum physics; my witness brings me into existence.”

”Am I pretty enough to love back?”

“Am I pretty enough to fucking die?”

“I wish-”

“Don’t you think that there’s a chance that you could live without it?”

05.  ...well, better than the alternative

“My daughter’s growing up.  She’s gonna be a lot like me, but I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“I don’t wanna be at all like me.”

“You’re telling me I’m holding up eleven fingers.”

“Stranger things than death can happen.”

“Everybody knows that nobody knows that.”

“Everybody’s in on everybody’s business.”

“This isn’t my first Christmas, I know mistletoe when I see it.”

“Baby, could you play along with me?”

“Baby, would that be alright with you?”

“When we find out what’s wrong with me, could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me how I’m right for you?”

“Could you tell me if I’m still pretty?”

“If they could see the future back when times were simple...”

“If everyone’s sick, well then, nobody can catch it.”

“Everybody’s all up in my god damn business.”

“This isn’t my first kiss.”

“It’s better to be lost than loved, now, isn’t it?”

“Everybody’s all up in my motherfucking business!”

“This isn’t my first anything.”

“After all of that’s been done to me, could you tell me how, could you tell me how, could you tell me—”

“What’s so wrong about what’s wrong with me?”

“I’m just trying to do what’s right by you!”

06.  Outliars and Hyppocrates: a fun fact about apples

“Did you know that the hole in the apple didn’t come from the outside in?  It was eaten from the core and out to the skin, and that’s why you’ll never find the worm in it.”

“The disease is defined by its treatment.”

“You people make me sick.”

“Who’d want to be human anyway?”

“Why’d you come into this world or come out that way?”

“Isn’t it funny?  Well, not "ha-ha" funny, but y’know, funny.”

“I doubt that you would even if you could change.”

“You think it makes you special, but it makes you strange.”

“The things that make you special are the things that make you strange.”

“I am the shadows cast aside by gallows, and you the red-hot sky.”

“And if you’re believers, then why would you grieve for the dead, instead of a devil that you never prayed for?”

“Too weird to love, too scared to die.  Too alien to take you home.”

“Who’d want to belong to anyone?”

“I mean, what do people even do?”

“If you love me, let me let you go.”

“Five more minutes, please?  You wouldn’t believe the dream I just had.”

07.  Black Box Warrior - OKULTRA

“Bless the torpedoes!”

“For what?  For what??”

“For what it’s worth, if it was going to kill you, boy, it would have by now.”

“There’s no more looking back, it’s looking up or looking down.”

“Wonder if Christ-Consciousness would charge a cancellation fee.”

“Auf wiedersehn!  Au revoir!”

“Hello, welcome.  Why don’t you take a seat?  Get comfortable, relax, take a second if you need to.”

“Now, what’s bothering you?”

“Well, why don’t we start at the beginning?”

“Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?”

“Did you die before your day?”

“You got a better idea?  It’s about the best we could come up with.”

“What, you think ideas spread because they’re good?  No, they spread because people like them.”

“So here we are once again.  Holding, as it were, a mirror up to your mirror.”

“I guess it’s just something people do!”

“You learn to be an animal instead.”

“I never did think you better than this.”

“It’s you who are the problem.  Not the things you do, but something sick inside.”

“Boy, you really is defective.”

“Offer up your innocence, please ignore the side effects.”

“You’ve lost your mind and almost lost your life before, so you’ll be fine!”

“Why would you want to look back?  I mean, it’s no good looking back. So try to look forward now.”

“For what it’s worth, if they were gonna get you boy, they would have by now.”

08.  Marsha, Thankk You for the Dialectics, but I Need You to Leave.

“They could prescribe you any illness you’d like if you define the terms of your ailments.”

“A crow don’t know the smell of carbon monoxide.”

“How many years have you been on that couch?”

“Your draw a line in the sand where it ends and you begin, but the tide rolls in, so who knows?”

“A little identity never hurt nobody, but lately you’ve been focusing too much on yourself.”

“How many milligrams of you are still left in there?”

“Back in my day, we didn’t need no feel-good pills and no psychiatrists.  We just drank ourselves to death.  And god damn it, we liked it!”

“What’s a symptom, what’s a flaw, can it be both?”

“Well, I suppose that’s an answer.”

“Would you give up your humanity for just a touch of sanity?”

“They’ve discovered a cure for the symptoms of being alive.  It’s a painless procedure with a low rate of failure, but very few patients survive.”

“And a little conformity never hurt nobody, but lately I’ve been worried that you’re losing yourself.”

“What’s my prognosis?”

“Disease is in the eye of the beholder.”

“Tell me ‘so it goes.’”

“Better safe than sorry, and we both know the danger.”

“So doctor, could you run another test?”

“If our harmonies don’t sync, we can change our voices.”

“Don’t heed no evil wills of moral nihilists.”

“Don’t you make me waste my breath.”

“GOD DAMN IT!”

“Does aspirin kill you with the pain?“

“You’re not your thoughts, you’re not your brain, you’re just the character you’ve made.”

“What seem like separate body parts come together to believe they’re you, and not just chemistry.”

“It’s not the way that you were raised, or what the advertisements say.”

“It’s not what you pay for, what you pray for, what you want, or what you say.”

“Something tells me that you need, forgive me now if I misspeak--”

“Something tells me you prefer to be sitting there flipping through those old issues of People.”

“Well, that’s our time.  See you next week.”

09.  Love, Me Normally

“In lipstick on the mirror are the lyrics to my obituary.”

“Crossing my eyes, dot my T’s.”

“I was delivered holding scissors.”

“I live deliberately, I’m a quitter.”

“I never agreed to participate in this game.”

“Won’t follow my dreams, cause they all got me waking up screaming.”

“I’d rather be normal.  Yes, so normal.”

“I suggest that we keep this informal.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t need to pretend to be normal.”

“Well, I guess that’s the least that I owe ya.”

“C’mon, c’mon, and love me normally.”

“If I could live in third person, well, I don’t think life would be much worse than it is.”

“Is it courageous or escapist to leave the quarantine when you’re contagious?”

“It may just be a cold.  And besides, I don’t wanna get old.”

“I drank myself to death to be the afterlife of the party.”

“When the afterparty came, I was rolling in my grave.”

“Now, this is the part of the song where I talk to my audience.”

“There’s something I want from you hepcats tonight.”

“I want you to look to your left.  Look to your right.  Your twelve o’clock, three o’clock, six o’clock, nine o’clock, rock around the clock tonight–”

“I want you to find those points of no return, those singularities, those burning rings of fire in the beautiful pupils and the beautiful eyes of the beautiful boy, girl, neither, both, or in-between that you brought with you tonight.  And I want you to tell ’em how you really feel!”

“Jam that square peg in the round hole in their hearts!”

“You love them exactly the way that everybody else is.”

“I was nothing before, so I couldn’t have asked to be born.  I’ll be nothing again, so what am I between now and then?”

“Is there nothing to fear?  Cause shit’s getting weird.”

“So to God who made this man: you better have one hell of a plan.”

10.  Memento Mori: the most important thing

“If you’re lucky you’ll be surrounded by the ones that you love, when the lights in your eyes fade and life flashes by.

“One day you’re going to die.”

“Heaven, hell, nirvana, nothing, no one knows how it ends.”

“Rest in peace— or pieces.”

“Read your horoscopes, your palms and tarot cards.  But either way your destination ain’t very far.”

“You could drown, or choke, or burn, or be hit by a car.”

“What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but something will eventually.”

“One day you’ll look back at the life that you lead.  No more future left to fear that you’ll have the past to regret.”

“But your worries will be over if you truly realize— one day you’re going to die!”

“Take it away, hands!”

“In the fabric of time and in the vastness of space, a billion amounts to nothing in infinity’s face.”

“Your life never mattered, so who cares if it's a waste?”

“Well, one day you’ll be not even a faint memory.”

“You’ll never know what it all means.”

“Just keep this in mind: that everything and everyone goes with the passage of time.”

“No need to fear, ’cause when it’s here, you won’t be alive.”

“Try not to think about it!”

“So if you only have one chance, you oughta try your best to live as you like.”

#rp memes #sentence starters #dialogue prompt #writing prompt #wwattw

[horrorslashergirl]

Night at the Asylum: A Dave Anthony Horror Fic.

Warning: Suicide, Disturbing Themes, Gore, Torture.

Tom and his friends; Julia, his girlfriend and two other guys, Mark and Carlos were in front of the Waverly Hills Sanatorium, backpacks and videocameras with them. It was summer and they just finished the second year of college, and decided to do something interesting, a short movie perhaps, since Tom was on the filmography class.

"I don't know man. This place looks desserted and its frickin' huge." Carlos said, and all he got in return was a roll of eyes from Tom.

Julia didn't wanted to come, since all the stories and urban legends of this place gave her the chills, but she wasn't going to let her boyfriend down.

"Its just one night to prove that there is nothing here but garbage. So, lets go. We have everything we need for tonight." Tom told them and began to march up the big steps of the principal entry, with the three following him.

He pushed the double doors open and stepped inside, the disgusting smell hitting his nose.

"Jeez! Somebody died here?" Mark said, putting his hand on his mouth and nose, his hazel eyes looking up at the big, impossing interior.

"And to think here died over 5,000 people." Julia said in a quiet whisper.

"I think they said they were over 10,000." Carlos interjected.

"Wanna look over this place? I think the cabinets where the doctors kept their files is on the second floor." Tom said, moving up the steps, carefull.

The place looked empty, save for everything that a hospital needed to have, now covered in dirt, bugs and other nasty looking stuff.

After 30 minutes of searching the room with the files and hystory of the Asylum, they finally found it. The Office looked strangely more fresh than the hallways and rooms where the patients resided.

The four began to look through the files, looking for information that might be helpful.

"This place held over 8,000 patients. Dude, that's almost impossible." Mark said, sitting down on the desk, a file in hand.

"I heard that there were much more, but the deads were so many that they created a death tunnel where they transported the bodies." Tom commented, looking over the shelvs that held books upon books of informations about the former patients.

Julia took one and began to brows the files, until a file fell from the book that held the profile of a patient. She crouched down to pick it up, her eyes scanning over the name.

"Dave Anthony?" she said, more so asked and the guys turned to her.

"Who's that?" Tom asked, coming to her side to see what she was reading.

"I heard of him. He is a local legend more so, but yes, he was a former patient here, very unstable." Carlos explained to them

"I thought this Sanatorium held people sick of tuberculosis, not the insane ones." Tom spoke, looking over at Carlos, urging him to tell them more.

"Yes, he was sick, but also sick in the head. I read about him. I heard he killed over 50 people, maybe more, he also raped his wife and killed her and after he set fire to a neighbours house." Carlos told them and he could tell that Julia was affected by the story, by the look in her eyes.

"But its just an urban legend ya know! I also heard that he was so dangerous, the doctors and nurses moved him into the death tunnel, chained him to a wall and left him there to die." Carlos spoke into a creepy voice, trying to scare his friends.

"Very funny? You sure have an imagination." Tom rolled his eyes, looking over at Julia to make sure his friend didn't scared her.

"Oh, but that's not all. After one week a nurse came in to see if he was still alive. He was dead, but he wrote a message on the wall with his own blood.... 'I will be back'." Carlos finished and laughed.

Mark hit him upside his head, telling him to cut it out.

After they more search, it started to get dark and they decided to move into the main room for the night.

"Do you think the story is true?" Julia asked Tom, who put an arm over her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

"Its not true. Tell her, Carlos." Tom spoke and he was tapped on the shoulder by Mark.

"Umm... Guys. Carlos is not here." Mark said with a concerned face.

When they all turned around, indeed Carlos wasn't behind them.

"I think he wants to scare us. Carlos! Come on! Cut the bullshit." Tom said, walking back down the hallways, followed by his girlfriend and Mark.

"Damn Carlos and his stories." Tom muttered under his breath, turning from corner to corner down the dark hallways, until there was a scream, making them all freeze in fear.

"W-Was that Carlos?" Julia asked in a shuttering voice.

Tom followed with his friends on the sourch of the scream and they stopped in front of a door with a small window glass. When they looked through it, they felt paralized. Behind the door was Carlos, strapped on a surgical table that looked like it was used for the theraphy with electroshocks. A set of what looked like headphones was on Carlos head, said headphones connected to an industrial machine that gave him shock after shocka, blood starting to drip from his mouth.

"Help! Oh God! Help me!" he screamed, spitting more blood, his eyes bloodshot.

"We have to help him!" Mark screamed, tugging on the door handle, but it was locked. They continued to bang on the door and it finally unlocked itself, but by the time they entered the room, fums were coming from Carlos head, his mouth hanging open as pink foam came out of his mouth.

"T-This cannot be happening!" Mark screamed, tears running down his face as he looked over at his dead friend.

"We have to get out of here. Now!" Tom finally said, grabbing Julias hand and leading her out of the gruesome scene with Mark running after them.

When they entered a hallway, all the glasses of the windows from the doors, pitch black hands with claws coming out. They continued to run, until Mark screamed, one of the hands had grabbed onto his arm roughly, digging their claws into his flesh.

"Help me! Guys!" Mark screamed, pain shooting through his arm.

The black arm tugged on him and his back meet the door, more hands coming out of the door and tearing at his flesh, blood following out and onto the dirty tiles of the hallway.

Julia began to sob into Toms chest, who hugged her tightly to his body.

"We have to move on. He is dead." Tom said, running with Julia to find the exit. They moved so deep into the Asylum that they got lost down the maze of hallways.

They continued to run, until Tom stopped, a loud gasp coming from his mouth and he clunched his stomach in pain.

"Tom! Are you alright!?" Julia asked, crouching down next to him.

He grinded his teeth as he felt an deep pain into his back. He tugged on the back of his shirt and Julia gasped, putting her hands over her mouth; deep scratches filled her boyfriends back, red rivules running down.

"Julia! You have to get out! Now! Something is wrong!" Tom screamed, clunching his head as pain filled his body.

Julia was frozen in fear of what was happening and she stepped back as a row of black spikes shot from his spine. Tom turned to her, his once blue eyes were a pitch black, making Julia take small steps back.

"Tom?" she asked, her breathing getting ragged.

He crouched down, his brown hair turned a snow white, his skin getting a sick look and his nails got sharp and a black color.

"No Tom." his voice got deeper, sounding like more than one person was speaking.

Before she knew it, he lunged at her, knocking her down with him on top of her. His mouth forming a dark grin, the skin at the corner of his mouth starting to rip and a set of sharp teeth pecked from behind pale lips.

"What's the matter Julia? Don't you love me?" he asked in a mocking fashion, his sharp nails, running down the tiles next to her head.

"W-Who are you?" she asked, tears running down her face as she looked up at her former boyfriend.

"Why, you don't know me? You just read my files some hours ago? Such a short memory." he said and her eyes widened, catching on.

"D-Dave? Dave Anthony?" she asked in a quiet whisper, making the entity chuckle.

"In flesh and bones of your boyfriend!" he laughed and gripped her neck tightly.

"I am gonna have so much fun with your soul." he whispered, running his mouth down her neck and to her ear, taking a deep breath of her.

"My, my. Looks like your boyfriend didn't took your innocence..... Fucking pussy." he smirked down at her, now his form completly changed.

He was tall, over 7'0 and smelled of death. Julia began to sob and pray to God, closing her eyes, then she quickly opened them when Dave punched the tile beside her head, cracking the floor.

"Fuck God. There is no God here. I am, you dirty little whore." he glared down at her and like a lightning hit her, she moved from under him, running down the hallways to find the exit, the poltergeist laughing behind her.

"Run, Julia! You can run but you cannot hide!" he screamed at her, then a maniacal laugh echoed through the building.

Julia turned corner after corner, unt she finally found the exit, throwing the doors open and stumbling down the stairs, running to the car and driving away into the night.

After 3 months...

Life after the night at the Sanatorium wasn't the same for Julia, paranoia was following her everywhere, hearing voices, having nightmares. She was turning insane and her parents decided to move her into an Asylum into her home-town. She refused to eat, to even go out of her room, saying that he was following her, that he was going to kill her.

One night she was laying in bed and praying, then she felt a cold presence tower over her form on the bed.

"Still praying to God? Pathetic." the raspy voice spoke into her ear and she felt a cold and black substance drip onto her face.

"Please... Leave me alone. Don't kill me." she begged, tears running down her bony cheeks.

"Kill you? Not now. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the next week. Probably next hour." Dave chuckled darkly, his black eyes looking down at her, his claws ripping the white bedsheets.

Then just like that he disapeared and the next thing made Julia scream. He was creating deep gashes into her back, then her chest. She couldn't tale it anymore.

Her teary eyes looked up at the bars on the windows then at the bedsheets.

Next day...

Julias parents were on the hallway, at the reception of the Asylum, crying and couldn’t believe that their daughter was dead. She just comited suicide yesterday at midnight, hanging herself on the bars of the window.

The doctors told them that she had intense paranoia and depression, probably because her boyfriend broke up with her.

After the suicide they moved the body from the room and a nurse came in to clean up. She swore the room was much colder than the other spaces of the building.

After she was done, she felt a cold breath down the back of her neck and a rattling of chains.

Slowly, she turned around and she dropped the dirty bedsheets, her eyes wide open looking into pitch black ones.

Before she could scream a black hand with claws moved over her mouth.

"Ah, ah, ah... Now, be a good little girl and don't scream. Will ya?" The poltergeist spoke, his mouth opening and a black long tongue came out of between rows of shark teeth.

The nurse was trembling, her back flush against the door of the room.

"Elizabeth? That's a cute name." he chuckled and the nurse couldn’t believe that he knew her name.

The man or more so the creature was tall, towering over her small frame. Her eyes widened when something crawled out of the entitys mouth, it was black with many legs; a centipede.

The creature moved from the demons mouth and fell down on the floor between the two. Elizabeths legs began to shake when the centipede crawled up one of her legs and under the white nurse skirt.

Green eyes widened and a silent scream left her lips, feeling the slimy thing move between her legs and inside her.

Dave smirked down at her, the centipede disapering inside the nurse, her face paralized in fear.

"I wanted to do this to Julia, but she killed herself. Eh, her lost." Dave grasped her chin roughly, his eyes looking deep into her own and she began to whimper, feeling something inside her.

"That's just something for you to always remember me. See you real soon." And with that he disapeared.

Elizabeth fell down on the white tiles of the room, tears running down her face as a laugh echoed into her head.

The message was clear 'I will be back'.

Authors Note: My first time writing Dave Anthony, my poltergeist OC. I almost forgot how to write supranatural things, but its quit fun.

#Dave Anthony #Horror characters #Horror story #Poltergeist #Demon #Ghost #Evil Entity

[starfaring-princelotor]

-

Wait

-

Summary: Prince Lotor goes through some self-destructive habits.

-

★ Disclaimer: I do not ship Lotura and I respectfully ask that this story to not be tagged as Lotura. This is a Lotor x Ven’tar story which is in no way related to Allura at all. Please be respectful of my chosen pairing.

★ Warnings: Depression, drinking, suicidal thoughts, vomiting, death mention.

★ A/N: Heed the warnings.

- 

Today was the anniversary. 

The liquid burned going down his throat, yet it did little to thaw the cold ice spiking through his heart, through his entire body. He was frozen in all sense but literal. It was a familiar feeling that he made friends with long ago, this muteness. Part of him never really pushed it away, he supposed. Part of him never really knew what to do with(out) it. 

Because that’s it, isn’t it? Pain makes you feel (sort of) alive. Numbness is a feeling (note: lack of feeling). And grief, as much time has passed, always finds a creeping way to force him into these bad, awful habits that reared its ugly head specifically for today. Drinking until he passes out. Forgetting food until he is puking stomach acid (it burns just like alcohol). Building brick walls and refusing to speak about anything with anyone. 

Just for today. Today, only today. 

Therapy. Go get help, he was told by himself. But why? He knew what was wrong. He was just too stubborn (too busy, he lies) to waste time when he already had an abundance of it filled with irreversible decisions. It’s easier this way, more controlled this way, because vulnerability is never something he will be comfortable with anymore. (Ever.) 

Another gulp and the dark room begins spinning shadows. Demons that he looked upon with dull, passive eyes as if his existence also thrived on what lurked in the pathetic corners of this life. Fuck, this was horrible. His thoughts were stabbing and clawing and tearing this...this ghost into shreds. That’s what it was, he felt like a ghost. Or maybe that’s what he wanted to be? Maybe he wanted to be dead so he could be celebrating this anniversary the right way. 

With Ven’tar. It’s been years since she died. By his own damn, idiotic actions. By his stupid, fucking, powerless, weak - 

He drinks again. It doesn’t help him in any way at all.

Lotor misses her. He can’t lie to himself about that. He misses her so damn much, he has dreams about her, and he wakes up crying with a panic attack, or anxiety attack (or both) and he finds that he can’t breathe in the middle of the episode. Like half of his everything was severed from him - half his heart, half his lungs, half his mind, half of his will to live.

And when he’s done and remembers his exercises (slow breaths, count to 20, touch the blanket), he drowns in grief. It happened last night. It’s happening now, yet those streaks of tears dripping down on his shirt did nothing to alleviate his mood. Crying helps. It helps, he swears it does, so why does he feel (or not feel) better? 

Lotor had too many feelings and too small of a body to contain them. The weight of them was crushing his shoulders sometimes. The hole in his soul was getting bigger and bigger with every day that passes. One day, he knows it, one day it will swallow him up, and he won’t be able to return from it. He won’t have that strength anymore and he will be glad (will be at peace) with it. He’ll be happy to be with her. 

It’s funny. He and Ven’tar celebrated everything together. They drank, partook in festivities (both in public and in private), they ate questionable food with equally questionable side-effects. When it came to this, though, he found it hard to “celebrate” her death (a death he caused, that’s what he gets for carelessly playing with people’s lives as if they were dispensable pawns.) 

Oh, if she were to see him now. She might weave words of wisdom, something like it wasn’t his fault. He just has a shit father. A shit mother. (He’s the result of them, after all.) Or she would push him on his back and envelope him in her warmth until all he knew was her, her, fuck, he loved HER -

But she’s dead. And she took his better half. And he took another drink. 

It felt like a kick to his stomach, that bile just about ready to make him hurl because of his aimless actions. Lotor was tired. He was capable of saving himself from, well, himself (sometimes). He was alone. (Not really, he knew Acxa was lurking right outside his door). He was...not living right now. He’s hopeless, he’s terribly hopeless, and he’s not sure how long he’s going to let this haunt him. 

He’s so sorry, but that won’t change what happened. 

Lotor is not okay. He has no more pieces to pick up. He’s bleeding out and he can’t stitch himself up anymore, not when there’s so much guilt on his hands. He both hates and cherishes this, this self-pity, this unfairness (he didn’t ask to be born, ask to be motherless and raised with an iron fist in his face by that pathetic excuse of a father), because he is stubborn. 

He is stubborn to know “Maybe tomorrow might be better…”

Maybe after being kicked down, after having his face rubbed into the dirt, after the ghosts stop following him (he only meant to do good), after life goes on no longer hurts to think about, maybe it gets better. 

Heartlessly, he kissed the bottle until there wasn’t even a single drop left, then threw it on the wall. It shattered (he’ll have to clean that up later), but like the drink itself, it did nothing to quell this hollowness. There was no anger behind his actions, just acceptance. He threw the chair he was sitting on. He can’t feel his heart. He threw the dresser, watched it break and spill the contents of it on the floor (morbidly, he thinks that’s how he’s going to die one day.)

Killing his father won’t bring her back. Killing his mother wouldn’t satisfy his revenge. Killing himself would dishonor her memory (but it will bring him closer to her.)

It’s been 247 years. Lotor didn’t heal from her death, if that gaping hole in his chest was anything to go by, and he doesn’t think he ever will. It’s an addiction that he doesn’t want to give up. He’s scared of it, sure, but he also knows how to get rid of it (if only until next year). It’s a nauseating fix he shamefully uses to push on with this disastrous life he made for himself. There’s no forgiveness for him, not for this and not for what happened to her. 

It’s...this is a poison he never found the cure for. 

Lotor is sick, this time in both literal and metaphorical sense. His depression is getting the best of him. He doesn’t want to forget her, but he knows that he wants (or needs?) to remember her in this way. There’s a reason for this unhealthy madness, this never-ending descent into self-destructiveness. He loved her. His beloved Ven’tar. His best friend. His wife. 

He blinks and he finds himself hunched over the toilet, puking bile until his stomach clenches and convulses in itself. It hurts (he forgot to eat today and yesterday and the day before…), but it’s clearing his head. There is no medicine for this, no vaccine for this disease slowly destroying him from the inside of his decaying mind. That’s okay, he tells himself. It’s okay, you have time. 

You have time. Get up. You have to keep going.

Lotor robotically walks to his bed, a sway in his step and a goal in mind. He will be with her one day. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day. The monsters are gone for now. They will be back and he’ll do this all over again. It’s a cleansing, in an odd (miserable) roundabout way. Darkness begins creeping in the corners of his eyes, exhaustion finally claiming victory after a week-long battle with himself. 

It gets better. 

“Wait for me, Ven’tar. Wait for me...”

#spacestories #ventor

[thanksjro]

Eugenesis, an Overview: Let Me Get Weirdly Serious About This Book For A Sec

HOLY SHIT WHAT A RIDE.

So, let’s recap what we’ve learned over the last 282 pages.

In 2001, James Roberts published nearly 300 pages of fictional prose, based in the established franchise of Transformers, specifically the Marvel UK comic continuity. This novel tells the story of the Transformers, in their dwindling numbers, being attacked, not by their opposing factions, but by an outside force hellbent on revenge. Those who are captured by this force- the Quintessons- are stripped of their very individuality, forced into servitude until the moment they die of exhaustion. Everyone is pushed to- and in some cases beyond- their limits, the horrors of a literal genocide beating down on them like a tidal wave. Only by casting aside their differences and banding together can they hope to survive the nightmare that is the Eugenesis Wars.

But people don’t really talk about all that, even though it’s a majority of what the book’s about. No, people only talk about what happens after the Quintessons are defeated. People only talk about the robots getting pregnant, because honestly it is the most bizarre thing.

Not because the idea itself is terribly odd- I mean, at least it’s in line with the lore the comics set up. It’s bizarre in how we get to that point. All the torture, all the suicide and death and depression and destruction of entire belief systems, leads up to these robots getting pregnant. Almost like that was the whole point. And considering that this story is presenting to us a bridge for the gap between the classic Transformers and the Beast-Era ones, it could have very well been.

I won’t say fetish, because that doesn’t feel quite right, but our dear author seems to have a sort of… obscene fascination with the concept of mechpreg. A fascination that will carry on well into his career as a professional comic scriptwriter, setting readers on edge for the duration of his run with IDW.

Comparing Eugenesis to More Than Meets The Eye and Lost Light, you get an interesting view of Roberts’ growth, as both a writer and a human being. Eugenesis is the work of what Billy Joel might call an "angry young man”, focusing on the despair of wartime and the futility of one’s struggle against the flow of time and mortality. The theme of time only being perceived as linear, and being in actuality an unending plane where all moments are equal and eternal might seem oddly specific, but it’s reflected upon by multiple characters within the story of Eugenesis. Perhaps this is why he has Brainstorm and Perceptor collectively and completely jack up time itself in the Elegant Chaos storyline.

Character moments sprinkled throughout the narrative give us a glimpse of the relationships that would be written later on- some of the most compelling scene writing happens between Quark and Rev-Tone, two original characters who have such a delightful dynamic between them, they very quickly became some of my favorites. You truly believe that they care so strongly for one another, they would do just about anything to keep the other safe. And they do, in a couple cases.

Then there’s all the death. There’s a lot of death in Eugenesis, and none of it is by way of natural causes- you’ve either got suicide, murder, or suicide-by-way-of-murder. You really see Roberts shine in these death scenes, both then and now, as he captures the utter, raw tranquility as one stares down their own demise, and on the other side of the coin, the complete annihilation of one’s very heart as someone they love is destroyed. It’s downright poetic how he handles these scenes.

Still, there is a difference in how the aftermath is handled. When someone dies in the MTMTE/LL run, there’s always meaning and purpose to it- nobody dies just to die, and those who are left behind are left at least something to comfort them.

A message of love.

The return of a friend.

A chance to keep living.

A chance to be a better person.

You don’t get that in Eugenesis. In most cases, there’s no salve for the wound, only more hurting. There’s no time to even mourn, as the fight rages on and on and on. Any happiness pulled from the narrative for the characters is laced with a bittersweet understanding that these folks probably aren’t going to make it, and they’re just as aware of that fact as the reader is.

And yet there’s something kind of beautiful about that, in a twisted sort of way.

Eugenesis is a sort of love letter to those dark thoughts hiding in our heads, those deeply scary intrusive visions of everything we care about being ripped away from us. It’s a book make up of catharsis, of hurting that begs for some sort of outlet. The characters in this story are lost, and scared, and hollowed out before the mass extinction even arrives, and are put through wringer after wringer, like some sort of distanced facsimile of self-harm.

Perhaps I’m reading a bit too into this, but with how intense things get, with self-insert characters no less, I can’t help but wonder if the James Roberts who was writing Eugenesis truly needed this outlet in more than just a creative sense.

Which isn’t to say that there aren’t issues with this novel just because it was a vessel for catharsis. Pacing can end up going so rapidly it feels as if you’re being pushed towards the edge of a cliff, then stutter to a halt to the point where continuing on feels like an absolute slog. But it always seems just as you’re about to put the thing down and give up, something completely thrilling, completely insane and powerful and profoundly attention-grabbing happens, pulling you right back in. If nothing else, this book demands one’s attention.

There are also some other, more interesting issues with Eugenesis. Issues I wasn’t really expecting to run into. To highlight one such issue, we’re going to play a game.

The game is called Guess That Character Design!

Hey Transformers fandom, got a new quandary for y’all to fight over. Forget the Frenzy/Rumble color debate, forget the Bombshell/Skywarp is Cyclonus debate, it’s time for the What The Actual Everloving Fuck Is Quark Supposed To Look Like debate! Do we follow the comic and its script, which show him as being either about on par with Rev-Tone and Mirage or taller, but fails to note any sort of color because it’s in black-and-white? Or do we follow the novel, which states he’s short exactly once, and crimson? And if he’s red, where did the blue paint chips come from in Part Five? They sure didn’t come from Rev-Tone, who I know is mostly red- not because the novel told me, but because I’ve seen art of him outside of this. Honestly, other than him having big honkin’ shoulders and a bust to match, nothing about Quark’s visual aesthetic is concrete.

Now, I could tell you all about his quirks and mannerisms, how he holds himself, how he talks, how he interacts with others, all sorts of stuff. Nothing wrong with the writing there, characterization’s great! I just couldn’t tell you for the life of me how his body is supposed to look. Rev-Tone’s in the same boat, except it’d be even worse without the helpful input of some friends. Did you know he has a visor? Because I sure as shit didn’t until someone showed me. It’s never mentioned in the book. You can barely see it in the prequel comic art if you’re looking for it, and the script is less than helpful to me because I’m not Matt friggin’ Dallas, nor have I had the pleasure of reading Transtrip. All the information presented in the novel about his looks involves his mouth.

Hell, some of the writing in Eugenesis seems to imply that he actually just has normal eyeballs.

What I’m getting at here is that Roberts leans a bit too much on the reader knowing exactly as much as he does about the characters, the plot points, the lore. And he knows A LOT about Transformers.

This book essentially requires the reader to have the wiki open with multiple tabs at all times. Roberts put his heart and soul into the prose, but the world-building had his nerdy little brains smeared all over it, because there are some obscure references in here, not to mention the sci-fi jargon. You basically NEED an internet connection to get through this- I’ve never read a novel that pretty much forbid an acoustic reading, but here it is, in all its glory.

Eugenesis is a dark, morbid, conflicted story with the oddest little bright spots in it. Within five pages, you’ll go from some of the most horridly bleak death scenes to someone accidentally burning a hole in their hand like a cartoon character. But never once, in nearly 300 pages, does it ever stop trying. It may not succeed in what it’s attempting 100% of the time, but goddamn does it go as hard as it can. This isn’t something that was done for money, or fame, or anything like that. Eugenesis is a passion project in the purest sense, and you can really feel it in the way it’s been crafted. For all the frustration it put me through, never once did I think “man, this guy just doesn’t care.” The ambition Roberts shows in the prose, in the world-building, in all the funny little moments that show just so much personality within the story, truly were harbingers for what was to come just a decade later.

Ambitious. Bleak. Brutal. Weird. Ultimately unforgettable. That’s James Roberts’ Eugenesis.

But let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? The one question that truly matters for any novel: is it worth reading?

Well, that depends.

If you had a hard time with the darker parts of MTMTE/LL, I really couldn’t recommend that you read Eugenesis. You will have an awful time, because most of it is Grindcore x100 levels of depressing and brutal. There were a couple points where I had to take a break because things got so intense- and I’m not exactly squeamish. Maybe stick to a breakdown- like this one!- or try a group read-along. Friends make everything better, after all.

If you like Roberts work and want to see where he came from, like I did, I highly recommend you find a copy- digital of course, there are only a few hundred physical copies in existence. I recommend you find the 2nd edition, which includes Telefunken and fixes some of the more glaring continuity mistakes and typos.

It’s a good read. Just... it’s a lot at times.

Like, a lot.

Up next-

Oh, what? You didn’t think that was it, did you? This url is way too sweet to just be done with so soon.

Next, I’ll be taking a gander at Children of a Lesser Matrix, which is something that was never finished by Roberts, but is still floating around the internet because hey! It’s the internet.

If anyone has any other somewhat obscure writings from JRo, feel free to send them my way. Especially if you have any of the TMUK zines from back in the day. I wish to consume all the works.

#transformers #jro #eugenesis #recap #maccadam #Hannzreads #incoming analysis #overthinking about robots #text post #long post

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #298

“i don’t like what i am becoming  /  wish i could just feel something”

Do you have sensitive skin? Very. Do you wear necklaces or earrings more? Just my tragus piercing, really. I only ever wear a necklace sometimes if I'm taking a "nice" picture. Rings or bracelets? I currently don't wear any bracelets, but I do always have one ring on. How many toilets are in your house? Two. Is your current crush younger than you? By just a couple years. Are you a lighter complexion than your father? Yes; he's very tan, especially his arms from being a mailman. Ranch or barbeque sunflower seeds? I don't like sunflower seeds. Do you know the first five books of the Bible in order? No. Do you have a pet fish? Nah, they're not my thing. Do you believe being gay is a choice or a "disorder"? Neither; I believe it's a genetic mutation. It defies biology and the very motive for life, but I always say that a mutation does not, in any way, equate to "wrong." I am extremely adamantly pro-gay rights and bisexual myself, so I can't shit-talk it. What are some of your favourite sounds? Crunching leaves, rain gently tapping on windows, windchimes, birdsong... mainly nature sounds. There are others, I'm just blanking right now. Are you a warm weather or cold weather person? Cold, 100%. What time do you wake up? What for? This spans over a massive gap, honestly... I can wake up as early as 5 or as late as 9:30. Most often, it's pretty early, and I call that my "trial" of being awake, lol... because I will almost without fail go back to sleep for a couple more hours. Hell, that happens even if I sleep on the later side. Do you ever listen to music to fall asleep to? I used to do that in middle and maybe some of high school, I think; I'd fall asleep with my iPod on and earbuds in. I haven't done that in a very long time, though. Could you spend the rest of your life with someone who had bad taste in music? ... Yes? Their taste in music has nothing to do with them as a person???? Do you still talk to the person you fell hardest for? No, and it's best I don't. Have you ever wanted to get drunk and get your mind off everything? Yes, and that's how I found out I'm far from a lightweight. I wasn't going to drink more than I actually wanted to drink just to get wasted. Did you love playing hide and seek as a kid? Yeah. Who is the last child you held? My youngest niece. Have you ever woken up not knowing where you were? Maybe for a few moments after my surgery? I don't really recall. When is the last time you made the wrong choice in anything? Every fucking day when I decide what to do with my time. What is the most interesting thing in the room you are in? My snake, I guess. She's a champagne morph ball python. When washing your hands, do you wet your hands or put soap on first? I put on soap first. When was the hardest you ever cried? What was the circumstance? Probably when Mom literally dragged me home after I tried to walk to Jason's to talk the night of the breakup. I lost my fucking mind. Which gift cards do you have in your wallet? I don't think I have any. Coke or Pepsi? Coke. I hate Pepsi. What is better: cute smile, or amazing eyes? A cute smile. What song are you listening to? "Drilled a Wire Through My Cheek" by Blue October is on currently. Name your best friend(s): Sara. Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Nope. Last night you felt? I wasn't suicidal, but still kinda wanted to die lmao. Do you still watch Disney channel? No. How do you like your eggs? I only enjoy them scrambled, and preferably with cheese. What’s your all-time favorite song? "False Flags" by Massive Attack. If you could be any TV character, who would you be and why? Idk, I don't watch TV enough. Maybe Donna from That '70s Show. Very strong and independent, outspoken, and not to mention she has great taste. I find her to be a good female character to look up to. Do you ever come up with really good ideas for stories or movies? Do you do anything with them? Yeah; I'll try to integrate them into RP characters and plots. What sort of things do you post on your Tumblr? Vintage photos, screen caps, girly things? It's a Markiplier cesspit lmao. Sometimes I'll reblog shit I find funny. I've been very inactive on it, though. Have you ever had a dream that you couldn’t shake, even for days after you woke up? Oh yes. When was the last time you felt like a nuisance, or unwanted? Recently, I'm sure. When was the last time your dreams were crushed, or at least hindered? I dunno. How’s school going? I'm not in school. Are you angry at anyone right now? Myself. The last person to say they loved you? Mom. When is the last time you laughed hard? Hard? I'm really not sure. Are there any words on your shirt? No, it's just a blank black tank. Does it take a lot to make you cry? NOPE. Do you tell your parents everything? No. Do you get bored easily? I'm bored to the point of thinking being dead would be more fun at some point almost every day. I have anhedonia badly. I'm honestly starting to think I've over-medicated to a numbing degree so am trying to wean off some things. Have you ever burned someone's picture? No. How long was your last nap? Maybe three hours? I was really, really tired, though. Can you name the last time you felt happy? Probably when Sara and I talk-talked for the first time in a while. When was the last time you played with sidewalk chalk? Oh, I have zero clue. Probably not since I was a kid. Do you have friends obsessed with World of Warcraft? Bro wtf don't @ me. Have you ever punched a hole in the wall? No. Have you ever told someone you hated them? The only time I've seriously said that was to my dad before we reconciled after the divorce. What was the color of the bridesmaid dresses of the last wedding you went to? I actually don't remember... Favorite thing to do on Facebook? See The Memes. Do you wear flip flops, regardless of weather, all the time? I SAID don't @ me. What is in store for your future? I both do and don't want to know. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yeah. I adore bats. Do you chew on straws? No. Do you have any trophies? Yeah. Who’s the last person that creeped you out? Some guy who walked into the store I was at with Mom, continuously looking back and forth. Would you believe an ex if she/he said they love you? Well, that would depend on the person. Have you ever been kissed in the rain? Yeah. Anything exciting happening soon? My half-sister and her kids are visiting tomorrow and staying for a few days. It's a surprise for Mom. Do you keep a diary or journal (offline or online)? You could say these surveys kinda are. I don't have a designated "diary," though. When was the last time you took a painkiller? What was it for and did it work? I had womanly issues a few days back, and yeah, it helped. Have you ever had to go and rescue someone because their car broke down? When was the last time that happened? I mean, I've driven /with/ Mom to do so. I myself don't drive. What’s one sweet/candy you miss from your childhood? Is this item something you can still buy or has it been discontinued? Y'all remember Baby Bottle Pops??? 'Cuz I do, and I love those fuckin things. I still see them sometimes in gas stations. When was the last time you used some kind of moisturiser? A few days back for my hands. They were painfully dry. If you’re under lockdown/stay at home orders at the moment, are you struggling or managing okay? A bitch is s t r u g g l i n g. Has anything positive come out of the pandemic for you? Fuck no. Do you wear a watch? Is it analogue/digital? Does it it have things like a step-counter in it? No. Do you have any gifts from Christmas that you still haven’t opened or used? Not used, yes. Well, then some things are still in their boxes, but they're unwrapped. Do you know how to tie a tie? If so, who taught you? No. Who was your last missed call from? Did you ring that person back? Some number I didn't recognize, so no. When was the last time you had some kind of problem with your internet connection? Is this something that happens often? A few days back. It has occasional instances where it'll go out but come back on shortly. Do you have a favourite celebrity chef? No. Do you prefer pizza or pasta? Pizza. Have you ever volunteered anywhere before? What was the reason behind doing so? Once at PetSmart when they had dogs to adopt out, which was for school volunteer hours. I spent time with them, giving them attention and taking them outside. I also had two other animal-related volunteer days, but each was only a few hours because my fucking weak-ass body couldn't handle them. Have you ever been truly obsessed with something? What was it and how did you come to feel that way? I have an incredibly obsessive personality; I could probably name near on a dozen or so things I've been genuinely obsessed with. I don't know what it means to love in moderation. Some are/were pleasant obsessions, some aren't/weren't. Does it bother you when people turn up at your house without asking or waiting to be invited? Yes. Are you taller or shorter than average height? I'm the average for an American woman. Do you have any family members whose beliefs or ways of life completely embarrass you? YUP YUP YUP YUP. Are you scared of heights? Yes. When was the last time you lost something of great sentimental value? Did you ever end up finding it again? I don't know. Have you ever injured anyone in self-defense? No. What food do you find to be the most filling? Is this something you eat a lot of? In relation to its portion sizes, oatmeal or eggs. I can't have a whole lot of either. I wouldn't say I eat either a lot, but oatmeal is more common. Have you ever heard people talking badly about you behind your back? Did you confront them about it? Yes, and in at least two instances. Do you consider “home” to be the place you were born, or is it somewhere you create for yourself? I consider it to be my childhood home; not the one I was actually born in, but only because I was way too young to remember and we only lived there like, maybe two years into my life. Have you ever experienced having to leave your home due to a fire, or due to the threat of fire? No, thankfully. When was the last time you felt you were in a dangerous situation? When we had a serious tornado warning Christmas Eve. Yes. In winter. Are there any superstitions that you believe in? Which ones and what are your reasons for doing so? No. Are there any series of books/films that you never finished - either because you got bored of waiting or just lost interest? Oh, I'm sure. I Wouldn't say I lost interest in a lot though, I just wasn't interested enough, like for The Hunger Games. Which theme park is your favorite? I haven't been to nearly enough to know. Like, just one. Do you eat healthy? I try to be, at least. Though I've been doing very poorly about it lately because I'm a emotional goddamn eater and am having a very hard time. Do/did your parents fight often? They're divorced for a reason. Do YOU fight with them often? No. Would you say that you're respectful? I hope so. Are you a fan of Green Day? Yeah, I love them. Would you rather have 4 kids at one time or never have a kid? Jesus Christ, never. I don't want any anyway. Do you think 'friends with benefits' relationships really ever work? No. Do you or have you ever known a drug addict? Yes. Do you turn off the water while brushing your teeth or leave it on? I always turn it off. No reason to waste it. Do you have any nieces or nephews? Lots, if you include my half-siblings. Are caterpillars more cute or disgusting? I tend to find them cute. What's your homepage when you bring up the internet? Google. Was the last book you read for fun or was it for some type of assignment? It was for fun. Have you ever dated someone you met online? Yes. Would you go on a date with someone right now if they asked? Depends on who's asking. Do you own any band tees? Oh, I have lots. Off the top of my head, some that I frequently wear are Metallica, Otep, and Korn. Do you know someone who wears a wig? No. Have you ever kissed someone under fireworks? I don't think so. What kind of dressing do you eat on your salad, if any? I strongly prefer the Olive Garden kind, but I also enjoy ranch. What genre of music do you listen to the most? Metal of some sort. Have you ever dated someone who was way overprotective of you? No. Do you personally know any cops? No. How many different colleges have you gone to? Three. How much stress can you handle? Not much at all. How confident are you in achieving your dreams? I ain't got the slightest clue by this point in my life. What is one thing you thought you’d never do but have done or are doing? There's a lot of things, most bad, some good. Do you have to take medication for any mental illness? A lot. Do you like looking at pictures? It depends on what's in them. Specifically pictures from my past, that's usually a big no. Do you believe the dead can have connections with the living? I guess in very vague ways. Which family member do you get along with the most? Well, define "get along with." I by far have the strongest relationship with my mom, but we fight sometimes. As for who I stay on the most stable ground with, that's probably my dad. Would you ever be able to become a vegan? I know I couldn't, but I'd love to. How did you meet your newest friend? Who even IS my newest friend... Have you ever watched the show Teen Mom? What did you think about it? No, and I think it's an awful fucking idea for a television show. Put a spotlight on and money into teen pregnancy, yeah, that's a genius plan. Are you old enough to remember MySpace? Yeah. Do you think you’ll be a good mother/father? I wouldn't be. Do you have trouble deleting your text messages? I don't need to. Is there something that you haven’t told anyone that you actually would like to tell someone? No. Have you ever been called a tease? Yeah. Do people ever make fun of your religion or lack thereof? No. Do you say/do things a lot for shock effect? No? What was the last compliment you gave a guy? I probably told my nephew Ryder he was a good brother. Was one of your grandpas in a war? Maybe? Idk. I never knew either well at all. Have you screamed in a pillow before? Yes. What do you like more, acoustic or electric? Electric. Have you ever ordered something off a commercial on television? No. What's worse, having someone mad or disappointed in you? Disappointed. Do you still consider Pluto a planet? Yes. Didn't they reinstate it as one, anyway? Right now, are you at a high, leveled, or low point? What's lower than "low?"

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''i am machine'' by three days grace

[edgypasta-headcanons]

Headcanons for your OCs pls

Dracul:

Is such a chaotic force it’s not even funny

She’ll scare the shit out of people because she sits in trees and watches people when she gets bored. Toby threw a hatchet at her when she scared him

Has the scent capabilities of a fucking bloodhound

She’s really like the live-action version of Maleficent. Looks evil, acts evil and has a small soft side

She likes to piss people off and get away from them by using her stunt abilities to the max and parkour through the mansion

Drinks her blood straight out of the bag with a straw or with her coffee at home. She loves when it makes a few other Creeps gag (whether it be the Happypastas, Chic, or Trendy ones, she loves the reaction)

Will throw down if you so much as give her a tiny threat. It’s a demon pride thing

Currently, in a relationship with Masky and with those two it’s either ride or die

Lowkey they have a suicide pact together on the days neither of them want to be on earth

Appearance wise, picture Vlad Tepes from Dracula Untold and that’s kind of her vampire shit (includes the growling he does and subconsciously does it when surprised/angered) but she’s covered in dark, kind of witchy markings all over her body, mostly on her hands, arms, neck down to valley of her breast, the back of her neck down her spine, and a huge line from her feet to her hips where it wraps around to the back marking. Has a black sclera and bright orange iris’ that turn lips red when angered

Hates it when anyone other than Eyeless Jack and Masky call her Dracula. She nearly ripped out Jeff’s throat when he mockingly threw it in her face during an argument

Darkelle:

Exterior she seems calm and collected, but on the inside, she’s chaotic and needs some sleep

The mouth on the back of her head often talks shit through her main mouth. 

She named the mouth on the back of her head “Ragnarok” because when that parasite takes over, it could literally destroy worlds with its insatiable hunger. 

Currently in a relationship with Eyeless Jack; She’s very attached to him and he is fairly protective of her. 

Darkelle is EJ’s personal therapist whilst he’s her personal nurse doctor.

Dr. Smiley is her literal doctor though. She has a fairly well relationship with him to consider him as her ‘Voice of Reason’

Misty is her ride or die. She grew up with her and treated each other like sisters or partners in crime. 

When the mouth opened, Darkelle hated it and was terrified of it due to not understanding why it was happening to her. 

Was raised as an assassin very similar to Black Widow when being reborn and serving The Slenderman

Darkelle and Misty attended human school and homeschooled by the Slenderman.

Had gone by the alias of “Alexis Bagans” that lived with her mother in their apartment. Often spent time by Misty’s side during being out in the human realm to “lead” her around.

A few months after Jeff was recruited into the CreepyPasta, she dated him for a while before they both broke it off. They both started seeing each other like siblings and thought it was weird, so they just broke it off on good terms

Jeff and Ben are her main guy best friends who she often hung out with

For being a hybrid between a Harionago and a Futakuchi-Onna, also being the Daughter of Nyx; Darkelle adopted the Gothic and Traditional Japanese fashions. 

She has markings all over her body like her mother that only manifests when she's using heavy magic and/or under black light.

Misty

Stressed out 24/7

Her full name is Mystique Nightingale Mann but prefers to go by “Misty”

Hates being called by her real name, luckily barely anyone knows it. If anyone were to call her by Mystique, she’ll deadass rip your head off.

Daughter of Slenderman, never really knew her biological mother. 

Was raised by Slenderman's younger sister, Slenderwoman(Scarlett).

Slenderman's personal assistant - She refuses to be her father's proxy

She had a mental breakdown about it in front of her dad after he asked her and fell asleep in his office to wake up in her room.

Unlike her father, Misty has a face. But her eyes are milky white which makes her look blind but she can see perfectly fine with extraordinary vision. 

Her tendrils switch colors depending on her mood. White when calm and collected, black with pissed off and beyond enraged

Unlike the rest of her family, she's actually short standing at 5’4

In the human realm, she’s a barista at Starbucks in Vancouver. Despite having to act blind. 

She and Darkelle attended human schools and home-schooled. 

Went under the alias “Mystique Addams” who was a blind girl that lived with her guardian uncle in a small house. 

She is secretly a Daddy's Girl but only out of sight and earshot. As much she rebels against her father's rules, she still has a pretty close relationship with him.

Misty doesn’t know who her biological mother is and doesn’t mind not knowing because she has a perfectly fine family without her

As lazy she seems to come off as she is a diligent worker. Without her, Slender’s mission files and assigning who goes to who is chaos

She’s technically Slenderman’s Proxies’ superior but she treats the boys as equals. 

She and Masky have a love-hate relationship. Toby is like a little brother she never had. Hoodie is the chill brother that she can talk shit with.

#ocs #ask #creepypasta #misty mann #dracul #Darkelle Kimura #Satine #oc headcanons #creepypasta headcanon #Thank you for asking about our girls!

[gamelpar]

It’s All About Fakes (100 sentence prompts fanfic)

Because I suck a writing even short stories or drabbles, I write 100 sentences prompts for the Fake AH Crew instead.

Some of them are inspired by moments in Let’s Play videos, headcanons, social media posts, or just comes straight out of the blue.

Feel free to take inspiration from the prompts or use them.

Prompts are written from a non-shippy perspective, but each prompt can be intercepted in whatever way pleases.

Also my first work, so let’s see how this goes.

Hey, why don’t you read it on AO3 instead?https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787825

1. How the Fake AH Crew got this far is a hell of story, and you can bet it’s one damn worth telling. (Fake it Til’ You Make it)

2. Ray was a sniper; he could spot bullshit a mile away, so how come he ended up in the Fake AH Crew? (On the Spot)

3. Sitting by the wheel of the red minivan Geoff sighed for the 67th time that day, still disbelieving the fact that they were not on their way to carry through a well-planned heist but rather enroute to the beach for some “splashing and slacking”, as Jack had called it. (Sunday Driving - To the Beach)

4. “The Vagabond says: it’s all gonna be murder.” (What the Vagabond Says)

5. Whether it was the Golden Boy or Gavin; Mogar or Michael; they wouldn’t leave each other behind. (Bois Forever)

6. Lindsay---being an absolute goddess as always---supports Jack in her telling for Fiona, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. (Women’s League)

7. Matt screws something up; Trevor is there to help him fix it; then Gavin and Alfredo is there to screw it up even more. (Nice Job Breaking It)

8. It’s Bake a Cake Day (according to Gavin) and it’s Gents vs. Lads (insisted by Gavin) and it will also be known as the day when Geoff’s kitchen met its undeniable demise (because of Gavin). (Bake a Cake Day)

9. Long story short: Michael breaks into an animal adoption center for a cat because Lindsay, and Gavin and Ray tags along because why the fuck not. (No Animal Came To Any Harm Except For Gavin)

10. A heavily tattooed man walks into a bar; later, a mad man and a lady in a Hawaii-shirt joins him. (It’s Not a Joke but the Punchline is Fluff)

11. Lindsay and Jeremy have dealt with shit going sideways longer than most people so they know how to make the best of it. (Failure is an Old Friend of Mine)

12. “I hereby announce that the official Prank Wars Week is in session!” (Oh No)

13. The Vagabond might be ready to die, but Ryan knows he’s not. (Ready as I’ll Ever Be)

14. The Lads---and Geoff---gets drunk as hell one night and starts a sock company. (Socks, There’s Socks Everywhere)

15. A boring Fake AH Crew means a dangerous Fake AH Crew and the residents of Los Santos better prepare for chaos. (Boredom Can be a Health Hazard)

16. Ryan gets hiccups and Ray thinks it’s funny until he gets hiccups, too, and soon everyone is stuck with hiccups and everyone blames Ray for some reason. (The Hiccup Disease)

17. When dawn arrives the Fake AH Crew will never be the same again. (Dawn After Battle)

18. Shopping weekends was nothing Lindsay used to do regularly, until Ryan one time decided to come along; then it became a thing. (Stuff We Do Together)

19. Even after leaving the crew, Ray would still have a home to return to. (Home is Wherever You Make it Be)

20. “No---we’re not twins, we’re not brothers, we’re not related in any way, so please for god’s sake, stop asking that.” (Stop the Questions Goddamnit)

21. Jeremy tried to apply more pressure to the wound but as the time on the bomb was running out, so did the blood. (A Mistake You Won’t Live to Learn From)

22. Someone knocks---no, pounds on the door to Ryan’s apartment at 3AM in the morning and Ryan’s still not that happy to being woken up in the middle of the night even if it is Meg waiting behind the door. (Late Night Visitor   or   Expect the Unexpected)

23. “Hey, guys, Fiona here---you’ll never believe this---but I’m stuck in jail and I need one of you to come and bail me out.” (Let’s Bail)

24. Matt is found alone sitting on top of the roof, watching the sunset, but what Geoff finds is someone who needs to talk and so he decides to be that other someone who listens. (Everyone Needs Someone Sometimes)

25. Gavin gets into trouble, which drags Michael and Jeremy into more trouble, and Geoff just wants to have a fucking drink. (Prepare for Trouble)

26. Gavin makes a statement, and Ryan feat. Alfredo makes it a hundred times worse. (Disturbance of Your Own Making)

27. Being welcomed by the sight of a bloodied and battered Gavin through the open door eliminates any tiredness and annoyance Geoff had worked up to having been woken up by a loud pounding on the door at 2AM. (Bloody Brit)

28. That was the way of the Battle Buddies; if one went down, the other had to keep on going, no matter what. (Broken Promise)

29. Nothing lasts forever, and Ray knows that better than anyone. (Never Say Forever)

30. The remaining Gents as well the rest of the Fakes would always be missing a part of themselves from now on. (Parts & Pieces   or   Next Step is to Move On)

31. The alphabet wasn’t enough to cover every brilliant plan the Fake AH Crew had in store, but they never settled for a single letter anyways. (Seven Ridiculous Plans and One That Actually Made Sense)

32. To the Lads, brighter days ahead is just an illusion they can only dream of in the aftermath of a heist gone wrong which claimed the lives of the Gents. (Miserable Lads)

33. It’s a story from being refused of coffee, to wanting to commit suicide briefly, to Trevor having made room for tea-parties with Jeremy, Gavin and Lindsay in his schedule every now and then. (Shut Up and Have Some Tea)

34. Really, it all started when Ray wouldn’t leave Geoff’s house one night. (A Place for Everyone)

35. Usually things doesn’t escalate this far by playing a simple Xbox-game but having ended up in jail, Michael and Matt doesn’t have much of a say about it and Geoff’s pissed. (Hate the Players)

36. Waking up in a dark room tied to a chair with no slightest idea of what the hell’s going on tends to lead to some anxiety-ridden experiences, especially when it is Gavin who finds himself in that situation. (Blackout)

37. No one wants to be the only sober one left to take care of a drunk crew, but with Ray gone Ryan just has to accept that this is his life now. (Trust   or   Sober One)

38. To think it all started that day when Jack saved a drunk man from being robbed in a dark alley. (Mind Your Manners)

39. Neither Lindsay or Michael would force Gavin to put on a brave face after a nightmare; everyone had fears and it was okay to be scared sometimes. (Sharing is Caring)

40. Matt’s life was just another pile of broken pieces until he met Jeremy, and suddenly he had some glue to put the pieces back together. (Glue   or   Glue My Life Back Together)

41. In the temporary apartment Ray was living in at the moment there was a vase by the kitchen window, always holding five red roses. (A Vase Full of Roses)

42. Geoff’s mood could easily be improved a 100 times better with some nice and warm socks. (Can Never Have Enough of Socks)

43. The crew quickly learned that pairing up Ryan and Trevor together would leave a traumatic amount of battered bodies and large pools of blood behind. (Madness In Me)

44. Michael’s life was like a puzzle; bits and pieces all over the place, some fitting, some not, some missing or broken, some didn’t even belong---and Jack standing there in the middle of it all being the only one who seemed to sense some kind of pattern. (Puzzles)

45. The Fake AH Crew weren’t good guys---they never would be---but that didn’t mean they were incapable of doing good, and they were by far the most decent team of criminals that had ever set foot in Los Santos. (Bad Guys Do Good)

46. Tears kept falling, slowly soaking the photo Jack held in her hand of her and the crew---not wanting to forget, yet not wanting to remember. (Remember to Forget)

47. The pink sniper rifle that hung on the wall would always serve as a reminder for the members of the Fake AH Crew that they were not immortal after all. (We Could Be Immortals)

48. Ryan’s an evil mastermind and that frightens Gavin a little, but the Golden Boy reckon it’s time to beat the Vagabond at his own game. (The Reckoning)

49. Kerry Shawcross crosses paths with the infamous Fake AH Crew completely by accident, and all hell breaks loose. (Welcome to Fake Hell)

50. The blood on his hands belonged to someone he knew---someone he cared about---and Ryan had never been more afraid of himself. (There’s Someone There But it’s Not Me)

51. It’s Pride Month and Jeremy really takes it up a notch when coloring his hair this time. (Rainbows)

52. Watching them Lindsay realized that while each of them all had lost so much, they had found even more. (Less is More)

53. Trevor would be better than Geoff ever’d been at scheduling heists and leading the crew, but he still gets to handle all the complaining from the crew so he isn’t as satisfied as he would like to be. (Point of No Return)

54. When the realization strikes him that he’s the only one left remaining, Jeremy falls to his knees in defeat and can’t stop screaming. (What Remains)

55. Fiona can never seem to stop messing with Gavin in any way possible. (A Step Too Far)

56. “Yeah, they’re all idiots---but they’re my idiots, so don’t you fucking dare lay your hand on them.” (A Bunch of Savage Animal Idiots)

57. Times have never been darker for the Gents as each of them struggles to cope with the deaths of the Lads in the aftermath of an coordinated attack. (Falling Inside the Black)

58. The day he met the Wildcard, Michael’s whole world finally started to make some sense. (Wild World)

59. Geoff’s constant drinking worried Gavin sometimes. (Drunk Concern)

60. Matt didn’t believe anyone would care enough for him to consider him family, nor did he believe he would end up in becoming a part of one. (Lost and Found)

61. Alfredo always wondered who Trevor really was underneath his iron suit of armor. (Armor)

62. Even when stuck in a seemingly never-ending coma, Geoff was never alone. (Not Alone)

63. Alfredo joins the Fake AH Crew with more blood on his hands than most people---including himself---would’ve expected. (Red Sea)

64. There’s a perfectly valid reason why Lindsay, despite not being his roommate anymore, is the only one who has a key to Ryan’s apartment. (Key to the Door)

65. Four times Jeremy and Trevor talked their way out of jail and one time they didn’t. (Another Approach to the Problem)

66. Lindsay tried, and that’s why she was still alive, even though everyone else that mattered to her weren’t anymore. (The Fake Among the True)

67. Fiona was her own knight in shining armor and no tower could ever hold her captive for long. (Green Knight)

68. There were days when Jeremy saw a way out, yet the light would always fade at the end of the tunnel, leaving him in the dark. (No Way In, No Way Out)

69. The others would never come back, and Gavin, walking in the wake of that horrifying truth, felt like an empty shell with nothing left to give. (Empty)

70. Trevor would give his life for the crew just like Geoff and Lindsay had. (Third Time Counts)

71. One time for when each of the Fake AH Crew members showed strength and one time when they didn’t. (No Shame)

72. Jack and Geoff shared a special responsibility for every member of the crew, and Michael was no exception. (Nightmare Terrors)

73. ‘Who’s the creepiest motherfucker?’ is a question rather avoided and unanswered. (Creep Contest)

74. All Michael felt now was a burning anger that refused to flicker and fade, and thirst for revenge than could never be quenched. (Road Rage)

75. The last time they all saw each other the city was burning, wounds were bleeding---figuratively and literally---and they never expected to see each other again. (One Last Time)

76. Jack liked to be up in the early, quiet mornings while everyone was still asleep, but she was seriously going to tackle Ryan into bed if she found out he was still awake at 5AM again. (Go the Fuck to Sleep)

77. He’d said he was going to visit, but Ray always pushed the promise further to its limits every time. (Liar Liar)

78. Five times a heist went to hell and one time when it actually didn’t. (Heisting Hell)

79. Not every backstory of the Fake AH Crew’s members is full of shattered dreams and points of no return. (Wanted)

80. Gavin missed home sometimes, but the Golden Boy didn’t. (Two Sides of a Coin)

81. Jeremy’s admiration of monster trucks stretches way back to when he was only a child, walking past a toy store. (Monster Car)

82. “You can leave if you want”, Geoff said, “No one’s going to stop you.” (Freedom)

83. The Vagabond was almost always in control after the Fall of the Fakes, mostly because Ryan let him. (Dead by Daylight)

84. Perhaps the next mishap won’t be so embarrassing for Alfredo, but life didn’t seem to like him much at all. (It’s Life, What Can You Do About It)

85. Four times Geoff said no to either Gavin, Ryan or Lindsay bringing an animal home, and one time he actually said yes. (Animal Addition)

86. So the members of the Fake AH Crew decides to steal their boss’ yacht again and Geoff’s as usual late to the party. (Yacht Party)

87. The crew goes to get some tattoos, and Lindsay is very sure of which one she wants to get. (Tattoos)

88. When Jack falls sick and can’t make her awesome lunch for the whole crew, the crew makes one for her instead (and Jack appreciates it even if it’s a little burned). (Faking the Chef)

89. The day Fiona joined the Fake AH Crew is a day Gavin will very well remember. (Bully)

90. The B-Team is usually there to clean up the messes, except for this time. (Don’t Leave Your Messes Here)

91. The whiskey burned his throat when he guzzled it, and Geoff wished that the liquor could burn away the pain and memories the same. (Burning Bridges)

92. The Fake AH Crew may look like they’re having the time of their lives, but the outside is designed to hide the struggles and issues that lingers underneath. (Inside Out)

93. With the Gents missing, the Lads stuck in a burning building, and the B-team cornered in a firefight, things does not look good. (Already Over)

94. The Fake AH Crew never failed to be impressed by Michael’s colorful vocabulary of swear words. (Words of Color)

95. Jeremy tries to cover up some traces of his past life from the rest of the crew; it does not go the way he wants. (Known to the World)

96. The Ring had been like home, but he wasn’t earning any money being beaten up every round in familiar surroundings, so Michael left---and ended up in Los Santos. (Ring of Fire)

97. The different paths that every member of the crew took for themselves led each of them to end up somewhere they never intended to be, but somewhere they were meant to be. (Pathfinders)

98. It was safe to say that every member of the Fake AH Crew had at least one weird obsession; some had way too many, and some obsessions were just what the fuck. (Obsessions)

99. The Fake AH Crew heists in style, or they do not heist at all. (Do it with Style)

100. The Fake AH Crew is made up of a selected (un)worthy and unique individuals---each one with their own story of whens, ifs, whats, whos, and hows. (Now That We’ve Come So Far)

#rtah fanfic #fahc #fanfic #more like weirdopath #my writing

[justanotherdeadgirlwalking]

That is Just the Saddest F**king Thing I Have Ever Heard.

TW obviously DEH is about a kid’s suicide, so it has those themes

other parts :)

Part One.

Cynthia said I had to go to school today. “It’s your senior year Connor,” she said, “you can’t miss the first day,” which was just complete bullshit. I tried to compromise, “I’ll go tomorrow,” I told her. No, I had to go. Mom just wanted to get me out of the house after watching me sleep and sit in my room all summer. “Today’s a chance to go make some friends” she told me.

Look it’s not my fault that I don’t have any fucking friends, and it’s not my fault that I can’t make friends because everyone thinks of me as big, bad Connor Murphy, the freak. I’m not a freak. People just have this false idea of me in their head and have never taken the time to actually get to know me. I’ve always been a hot topic of rumors, even though I’ve never done anything really worth talking about. Except the incident in second grade. Someone explain to me why something so stupid that happened when I was 8 years old is something people still use to talk shit about me. It is still a story that gets told from time to time, “oh stay away from Connor Murphy, he’s batshit crazy. He once threw a printer at Mrs. G. because he didn’t get to be line leader” That’s not the whole story. No one knows what really happened because they weren’t even there. I mean, yes I was upset that I didn’t get to be line leader, even though it was my turn, and yes I did shove the table that the printer was on, which caused it to fall. So, I mean, I guess I threw the printer in a sense, but what does it matter? I was a child. Do you know how much embarrassing shit people did in elementary school that doesn’t get talked about because, well geez, they were children, and they’ve grown since then. Fucking Alana Beck peed her pants probably seven times that year, but we don’t talk about that. Whatever.

Most likely, no one is going to be telling that story this year. There’s some new hot gossip about me. See, I spent my junior year at a private school. It was awesome, I actually had a friend, and I was doing well, but I got kicked out. They did random locker searches, and I had weed in my locker, barley half a gram. The best part is, the weed wasn’t even mine. Not that anyone cares, not that anyone is going to ask, or listen to my side of the story. Ironically, they found so much Adderall, in probably 50 lockers, and they got away without so much as a warning. So, pills are okay, I guess, but marijuana isn’t.

Look, unlike what my parents might think, it isn’t dangerous or addicting or bad. Newsflash weed doesn’t hurt anyone. You can’t die from being too high, but pills, you can die from taking too many pills. I told them that too, I showed them statistics and research to convince them marijuana isn’t bad, they sent me to rehab to help with my ‘addiction,’ but all it did was teach me new, worse habits and prescriptions for mood stabilizers.

I’ve always been on medications to try to help me with the depression and paranoia, but I don’t like how they make me feel. Usually, I keep the pills hidden so Mom and Dad don’t catch on that I’m not taking them. I just prefer weed anyways; weed just calms me down, while the other crap I’ve been prescribed puts in a zombie like daze. I just smoke a little weed every now and then to help me get through the day.

People are going to say whatever they want, but I guess that it doesn’t help that I smell like pot anyways. That smell, no matter how many times you wash your clothes or spray your belongings with ferbreeze, never goes away. Regardless, I know I’m not the only stoner, not that I’m a stoner, but most people act like it’s a fucking personality trait to smoke. They’ll go online and post pictures of their bowls and blunts, thinking that they’re cool, but I’m a burnout freak because I smoke.

Despite my protests, I found myself in the passenger seat of Zoe’s car as she drove me to school. Some people might think it’s lame to be driven around by their little sister, but I fucking hate driving. I get too distracted, plus, other people drive like absolute nimrods. I got enough stress in my life, why add the stress of driving.

The first day of school is always a waste; you never do anything meaningful or important. People just spend the day catching up with friends, talking obnoxiously loud about their trip to Italy, or how they built houses for the homeless, and you just do ridiculous ice breakers and make nametags. It’s not like I’m going to learn anything, I’m just going to sit through hours of “two truths and a lie.” Plus, I’ll have to sit through the embarrassment of no one volunteering to guess which of my statements is the lie. No one wants to waste their time with that. Though, I will admit, I came up with some good ones this year, “My birthday is 420, I like to draw, and I have a dog.” The lie, obviously, is that I have a dog. I’ve always wanted one, but Larry has always said no, “they’re too messy.”

I try not to let other people bother me. I just focus my gaze straight ahead, walking as quick as I can to my first class, avoiding obstacles the best I can. In my opinion, people that stand in the middle of the hallway to have their conversation do not deserve rights. Hi, you, and your conversation is not more important than me trying to get to class. Have some fucking decency and at least move over to the side, Jesus Christ. On the bright side, people do tend to move out of my way. It might be out of fear, but it’s convenient. I put my head down as I cut through the middle of two people. “Hey Connor”  a boy calls, “Nice hair length,” he continues, “very ‘school-shooter’ chic.” Wow, was that really necessary; did they really have to stop me to tell me that? That’s what I need too: Connor Murphy, not only a freak, but also looks like a school shooter.

I stop in my tracks with a heavy thud as my boots hit the ground. I whip around to face the voice. I look up with a narrow gaze and see Jared Kleinman and Evan Hansen. They are two nobodies like me, but I guess they think they’re better than me.

“I was just kidding” Jared stutters, “It was a joke.”

“Oh, I know.” I say, with no emotion, “I thought it was funny, I’m laughing can’t you tell?” I close the space between us until I’m in his face, towering over him. I’m not a scary person, but I am 6’3”, so my height tends to intimidate people, plus I really like wearing all black. My physical appearance is really a shell of armor, no one knows how sensitive I really am. At least, people can’t walk all over me if they are scared of me. I stare him down, “Or am I not laughing hard enough for you” I say.

I found, that if you stare at someone long enough, they will leave you alone. Mostly, because they are creeped out. It must be working, because Jared takes a step back, “you’re such a freak,” he says as he turns to make a run for it.

Evan’s still standing there, laughing quietly to himself. “What the fuck are you laughing at” I snap at him.

“N-nothing” he stutters.

I turn to him, “do you think I’m a freak.” He’s still laughing to himself. “You’re the fucking freak,” I yell as shove him.

I pause for a moment, looking down at Evan, who is now on the ground. He looks scared, like really, scared. Does he think I’m going to beat him up? Has he been beaten up before? Who hurt him? I scan his body quickly; this kid is already in a cast. Great, I just pushed an injured kid. Maybe I really am a freak. What the fuck is wrong with me? I collect myself and quickly walk away. I don’t have time to deal with this. It’ll probably be a few hours before this goes around the school.

I make it to my locker, my eyes are still on Evan, who is still on the ground. He’s been on the ground for a while, surly he should’ve stood up by now. Fuck, did I break his legs? Zoe walks up to him and helps him up. He’s fine. I watch as Zoe talks to him for a few minutes. Even my own sister isn’t on my side. Thanks Zoe, I’ll remember that the next time you want me to cover for you when you sneak out. Mom and Dad might think I’m the fucked-up child, but they have no idea what kind of shit you get into.

Each class is a blur as I sit through hours of introductions. Finally, its time for lunch. I don’t have friends to sit with, and I don’t like to give people the satisfaction of watching me sit by myself, so usually I spend the period in the library. I’m safe among the stacks. Books can’t judge you, but they can be an escape from your fucked reality. I can’t find a place to sit in the main library, so I go in the back by the computers. There’s a kid talking on his phone, but I don’t think he’ll mind my presence. I find a seat in the corner and lose myself in a book.

Suddenly, I’m snapped back into reality when the printer goes off. It scared the shit out of me. I look at the paper the printer is spitting out, “Dear Evan Hansen” the top reads. I look over to see Evan hunched over a laptop, talking to himself. I don’t think this kid has any friends either, besides Jared, but Jared’s a dick. Evan isn’t a freak like me, but he’s just someone always in the background. Everyone knows who he is, but no one cares.

I should probably apologize to him about earlier.

I grab the paper and walk over to him, “Hey.” He looks up at me, startled. “So, what did you do to your arm anyways?” I ask him.

He looks down at is arm as if he’s confused as to what I’m talking about. “Oh”, he stammers “I fell out of a tree.”

I look at him, expecting him to say more, he doesn’t. “Well, that’s just the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard” I tell him.

“I know,” he says.

I look at his cast, its blank. I guess it makes sense, since he doesn’t have any friends. “Hey, no one’s signed your cast yet; I will,” I say.

“No, no you don’t have to” Evan whines.

“Do you have a sharpie?” I ask. He stares at me for a moment before he starts digging in his backpack and pulls out a marker, handing it to me. I grab his arm, and he winces. I ignore that and write my name as large as I can along the side of his cast. I figure, no one else is probably going to sign it, so I might as well take up as much real-estate  as I can. “There,” I say, “now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Evan stares at his cast.

I remember that I still have his paper, “is this yours?” I ask, holding it out to him, “I found it on the printer, it says ‘Dear Evan Hansen,’ that’s you right?”

“Oh, that’s nothing, um, it’s stupid.” He tries to grab the paper from me, “It’s just an assignment”

I pull it out of his reach and look at it, my eyes land on Zoe’s name, “because there’s Zoe” I read aloud, “Did you write some freaky shit about my sister?”

“No, no” He stutters, trying to rip the paper out of my hand, “Why would I do that?”

“You wrote it because you knew I would find it” I snap, “So I would freak out and you can tell everyone that Connor Murphy is a fucking freak.”

“No” Evan cries.

I shove the paper into my pocket, “Fuck you” I say as I storm away.

I walk out of the library, and right out of the front door of the school. There’s still two periods left, but I don’t care, I’ve had enough of today. I keep walking, I don’t even know where I’m going. Eventually, when I’ve put enough distance between me and the school, I pause to pull out my headphones and put on some music. I don’t even care what I’m listening to, it just has to be loud enough to block out my thoughts.

I don’t feel bad about pushing Evan anymore; honestly that kid deserves way worse. He had to know I was in the room with him. No one is that oblivious to the world to not even notice that they’re not alone. Why would he write about my sister? Like does he have a weird fantasy about her that he just had to get down, and print out? Look buddy, most people keep their private thoughts in their head, where they belong.

I eventually reach a park, its oddly empty, but I guess all the children are still at school. I sit on a bench and throw my bag onto the ground, it rattles with impact. I pick it up to investigate the sound; I dig around until I find the source: a prescription bottle. I forgot that I had put my meds in here. I hold  the bottle and read the label, it’s good old Prozac. I have refused to take it ever since it was prescribed to me. If you look it up, it has so many warnings and side effects listed, it doesn’t even seem worth it. Like there’s a small chance this will make you feel better, but there’s an even bigger chance that it might kill you, or make you want to kill yourself. The irony! They give you the medicine because you think about killing yourself, but the medicine makes you want to actually kill yourself. Do doctors even care about you, or do they just write you a prescription, so you go away?

I’ve never taken a single dose of this medication, outside of the hospital where they basically force it down your throat, but now seems like a good time to. I feel so numb, what does it even matter, it’s supposed to help me right? I swallow a pill, dry, and then another, and another. I keep swallowing them until I run out of pills. I throw the empty bottle on to the ground. Suddenly, I have a killer headache; I can feel my heart pounding, thoughts are racing in my mind. I lay down on the bench and take a deep breath.

#DEH #DEH fanfic #Dear evan hansen fanfic #deh fandom #dear evan hansen #dear connor murphy #connor murphy #mike faist #ben platt #musicals #fanfiction #fanfic #dear evan hansen fandom #connor murphy deh #zoe murphy #please validate me #trash

[definitely-not-pneuma]

Here we are again

I’m back at it again with the feels, so here I am. Seems like it is time to make a post. I re-read some of my previous posts but had to stop. It’s too surreal. Everything I felt then, I still feel now. It’s very strange. In reality, I’d like to think my posts on this blog are snippets of some insane ramblings that are incomparable snippets of pointless ranting. However, in truth, what I find more disturbing is to find that I make arguments towards lessons in life I haven’t even learned yet. My very first post dwells in not working towards what you feel you were put on this world to do. More recently, I’ve learned that very thing is ultimately the source of my depression which I now feel could be better described as madness. While I had thought this was a recent revelation, I actually knew it all along and I didn’t even trust myself enough then to start working on it back then, or else I MIGHT have a few more friends then I currently do.      Truth be told I’m increasingly thinking that suicide is the only option for me at this point. It’s too difficult, to put it simply. Let’s look at it this way. I’ve suffered from suicidal ideation and general depression since as early as 2008-2009. If I were a fool, I would tell you that it’s all someone else’s fault I have not found a way to deal with it since then. However true that may be, you will never, ever improve as a person if you choose to blame others for any problem you may have. i.e., I think it’s very possible for your growth to be hindered by others, BUT harping on that fact not only does nothing for you, it also has a psychological effect of being counter-productive. Getting back on point, I’ve had knowledge of my main obstacle in life since 2008-2009. I was not a full fledged adult with control over my life until 2014, admittedly, but that still leaves us with 6 whole YEARS of inability to address it, and its only gotten worse since then.      I think, or perhaps it is more fair to say I feel that, if I was going to get better, surely it would have happened by now, yes? I don’t know what to do. Feels like my whole life has been nothing other than waiting. That’s all I’ve done. Just wait. I haven’t actively tried to do anything to get better. It’s like somewhere I was taught that “it will get better soon” and maybe even misunderstood that to mean eventually things will make sense and unravel, and now its taken me until now to unlearn that. I am starting to think the most dangerous place to be when it comes to mental health is “high-functioning.”      Sure, it sounds good right? You’re not COMPLETELY disabled. You can get by on your own. That’s the problem. Because you CAN people must think you SHOULD. Never mind the fact I don’t have the same privileges of someone who doesn’t share my problems. Being high functioning is less like having similar symptoms of someone who is on disability and more like still being able to work and more like needing some serious help but you still show up for your seventh consecutive 9-hour shift despite how hung over you are from your increasingly problematic alcoholism so you obviously don’t need it. And you know what the funny thing is? So many diagnosed people who absolutely NEED disability to not die don’t get it or end up homeless or both and to be honest its so shitty.      So many people who meant the world to me, instead of intervening and really trying to get me help just left instead. Now I have no one. I feel like I’m trapped in some fucked up sociopath ruled sub-world. I don’t understand how you could love someone and turn your back on them when things just got too inconvenient for you. The evidence seems to suggest I was never loved at all.      I want to die but I’m scared to do it. I would like to get hit by a vehicle while crossing the road or some similar freak accident. Nobody needs me here. Nobody wants me.  

#tw-suicide #tw/s #suicide #trigger warning #tw

[tanadrin]

Reordberend

(part 29 of 30; first; previous; next)

Leofe woke perhaps an hour later; Katherine heard her roll over, then a groggy question emerged from the bed behind her.

“What are you doing?”

Katherine finished tying her hair back; it was shorter now, but still too long for this. But she didn’t have time to cut it. She felt with her fingers down the back of her neck, trying to figure out where to press the awl. It was a shitty substitute for a proper neural probe, but it was all she could find at short notice in the hall.

“I’m just--shit!” She pushed it home, and there was a dull thud inside her skull as the emergency reboot protocol started. She pulled her hand back; her fingertips were covered in blood. Nothing for that now, unfortunately. “Just rebooting my cybernetics.”

“Isn’t that a bad idea?”

“Yes. It’s a very bad idea. It’s the sort of thing you only do in life or death situations.” Katherine stood up, and went over to the door, where Hraefn’s shield was leaning against the wall, next to one of her hunting spears. Leofe’s eyes went wide.

“Katherine, what are you doing?”

“I’m going--I’m going after the dragon. I talked to Eadwig. The bird I gave him, do you remember? I took it from the corpse of the second dragon. It’s likely… it’s likely it was a lot less damaged than its brother. And I think, whatever it is, the dragon has some way of tracking it, and wants it back. I think whatever tracking device it has built into it was meant to help recover the memory core, and I think I fucked up by removing it. And I got people killed. And I’m so, so sorry Leofe. I want you to know that. And I want you to tell the others. I’m going to go down to the Lower Settlement, and take the bird back. Then I’m going to go find the dragon. If I can’t find a way to reattach it, I’ll just have to find a way to kill it.”

“Now wait, you can’t--” Leofe tried to sit up, and that’s when she realized Katherine had tied both her hands to the bedpost.

“I’m sorry. You can’t stop me. Stubborn, remember? You can yell, but I don’t think anyone will hear you from outside the hall. And by the time someone comes looking for you, I’ll be in the hills.”

Katherine hefted Hraefn’s shield, then picked up the spear. Leofe’s eyes were wide; funny, Katherine thought she’d be more pissed than surprised at this point. 

“Listen, you can’t--”

“Shh. Leofe. I caused this mess. I came here, I disrupted your people’s existence, I got some of them killed. Before anybody else dies, I have to do everything in my power to make that right.”

“You’ll be killed!”

Katherine looked down at the ground.

“Then I’ll be killed. But at least I tried. Please tell the others I’m sorry. If you can get a message to the outside world--have somebody tell my parents I’m sorry, too.”

“Katherine! Don’t you dare leave without untying me!”

Katherine pulled her hood close about her face, and strode out of the room.

“Katherine!”

* * *

She slipped out of High Settlement and made the two-hour walk to the Lower Settlement in the dark. Eadwig’s house was easy enough to find; the bird was still sitting on a workbench, next to his stoneworking tools. She slipped it into her pocket, and was gone before anyone noticed her. From there, it was another two hour walk back up the valley, and when she was almost at the place where the path turned off toward High Settlement, she turned left instead of right, and headed up into the hills.

It was only then, stepping off the road, that something turned over in her brain, the adrenaline began to fade or whatever, and she started to feel her hands shake. She really should have eaten breakfast. Her mother always said it was important. Don’t go to school without breakfast, dear. Don’t go slaying dragons on an empty stomach.

The little observer inside her head, the little voice that was always watching her actions and critiquing what she did and telling her what she could do better, was screaming at her now, asking her if she was crazy, if she was suicidal, if she was stupid. She ignored it. She might be crazy. She certainly didn’t want to die. There were, in fact, few things in this existence that scared her more than the possibility of it ending, of plunging headlong into the great void of nonexistence, of contemplating what it would be like to be one with Unbeing, to be not, to become nothing. There were times when the certain knowledge of her one day death filled her with an icy cold terror. Today wasn’t one of those days, which was funny. Because she was pretty sure she was going to die.

She should turn back. It was the only reasonable course of action. But the one thing that scared her more than dying at this point was what would happen to the others if she failed. If she couldn’t reattach the bird to the thing, or at least get her to recognize she had given it back, it might keep looking. It might stomp all up and down the Valleys, until it had ground every village to dust, and it might keep going until it broke down. And she couldn’t have that on her conscience. She couldn’t be the one that destroyed them.

So she kept climbing into the hills. As she climbed, she did her best to hack together a self-diagnostic. Already, her head was starting to hurt in an ominous way. But if she had any chance of surviving this, she needed every edge she could get, and barely-functioning cybernetics was better than nothing.

She needed three things, she decided. She needed a way to mute pain signals. A headache was fine. Even a bad one she could live with. But burns, broken bones, anything truly incapacitating, needed to be reduced or eliminated. She also needed to get every last ounce of strength out of her muscles, even if she risked damaging them. She knew if you pushed your muscles too hard you could damage them, and that could cause kidney failure, but it would take a lot longer for kidney failure to kill her than a laser borer, or getting crushed to death. And the other thing she needed was better reflexes. That was probably gonna be the least likely to get working, because it involved core neurological function, which seemed to be exactly the part of her neural lace that was most damaged. But she had to do her best.

Finally she cape to the top of a ridgeline, and leaned against an outcropping to catch her breath. Damn, she thought. I wonder what my friends would say if they could see me now. She’d like to think they’d think she was a badass. They’d probably side with Leofe, though. If anything, she probably looked a bit ridiculous in the heavy coat, with the hunting spear and the shield. Like a squat black shrub with delusions of martial grandeur. She made a mental note, for if she survived this. Tell Hraefn to make her a bitchin’ suit of armor. Something with pauldrons and spikes. Something you could airbrush onto the side of a van.

She thought of a large green pyramid on the ground. The emergency startup sequence for her prosthetics engaged, and her headache got a lot worse. She gritted her teeth. “Neural lace console mode,” she said. A flashing indicator appeared to the left of her vision, and a shimmering, ghostly outline of a keyboard in the air in front of her. She raised her hand and made typing motions.

God, she felt like a dumbass. At least none of the others could see her right now.

Katherine was no programmer, and she was no neurologist. She did remember a few commands from the user manual of the salvaged dragon. Dampening pain signals only took about a dozen keystrokes. A loud warning tone sounded in her ears--well, probably her auditory cortex--warning that what she was about to do overrode almost every safety built into the lace, and its warranty. She hit confirm. Then she did the same thing with the musculoskeletal support system. More loud, horrible warning tones, this time with messages that featured the word “DEATH” in flashing letters. Literally, neon-green flashing letters. Yes, yes. Get on with it. She tried get into the actual neurological support system, but this time a big yellow ACCESS DENIED message stopped her cold.

“What the fuck?”

User access to the neurological support system is denied. Please consult a medical professional if you desire to… god dammit. Okay, so that option was out. She had her wits. She had a weapon. She had a shield. And she had every last ounce of physical strength she’d be able to muster. God, she hoped it was enough.

* * *

An hour later, she crested another ridgeline, and she saw it, hunkered down in a hollow below her. The dragon.

She exhaled slowly. She wasn’t sure what she had imagined. Lying on the valley floor, half buried by the landslide, they had looked so mechanical. Inert. Obviously the work of human hands; and, if she was honest with herself, she had thought that the People’s insistence on calling them “dragons” was kind of stupid. But now she could see why they did. This thing--hunched on four enormous legs, curled around an enormous stone outcropping like a beast of mythology--did not look like a machine any longer. The hundreds of metal plates that formed its skin slid neatly over one another as its head swung one way and the other; the instruments and receivers along its back bristles, like spines or the outlines of skeletal wings, and, yes, there was a furious red glow from deep within its belly. It was enormous--easily two hundred meters long. It moved forward slowly, almost glacially, testing the ground with each foot.

Well then. Maybe she could sneak up on it. Niiiice and easy. After all, somebody had to do maintenance on this thing, right? It was designed with that in mind? Maybe it would let her climb right up on top of it, find a nice hatch she could pop open, and she could drop down inside, plug her brain into a control panel, and press the “off” button. Yeah. That sounded like a great plan.

Katherine took a step forward. She looked down. Something was glowing inside her coat. She pulled it out; it was the bird. The flaw in the middle, that seemed to be where the homing device was. It glowed with a sharp, almost radioactive blue light. Katherine looked down at the dragon.

Well, shit. Its head, if that was what you wanted to call it, was looking right at her. She slipped the bird back into her coat and picked up her spear. She waited to see what it would do next. Metal plates began to slide past each other, and something not unlike a maw began to gape. And there was a grim red light shining from within it.

“Ohhhh fuck fuck fuckfuckfuckfff-” Katherine took of sprinting down the ridgeline, as an enormous blast of something hit the spot where she had been standing a moment ago. There was a spray of rocks and dirt, and the force of the blast knocked her forward, but she did not fall. She glanced back over her shoulder, and caught a glimpse of glowing red rocks.

“Whyyy,” she screamed down at the beast. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT. I’m trying to give this BACK to you!” She fished around inside her coat, and then held up the bird, so it could see it.

“Here it is! Take it! Take it and go! Leave these nice people alone!”

The dragon looked at her dully. She had a thought, an insane one perhaps, but she was having an insane kind of morning. She stood up, reared back, and pitched the bird as hard as she could down toward the dragon. It arced through the air, and fell hilariously short, skipping down the slope until it came to rest about half way between her and it.

“There! All yours!” she yelled. The dragon did not look at it, though it glowed as brightly as before. It just started opening its maw again.

“God DAMMIT,” Katherine screamed. She jumped down the slope, just as the boring laser blasted another Katherine-sized hole in the landscape, and slid down the scree toward the bird. She stumbled, fell, rolled, and tried to stand before falling again. The dragon’s head was tracking her, but it was slow. She could hear the machinery inside it whirring from where she was. She finally got close enough to the bird to pick it up, and took of running parallel to the dragon again, hoping she could move faster than its head could turn. Another hideous glare lit up the landscape around her; another blast hurled fragments of rock into the air.

Katherine needed to think, and she couldn’t do that very well while running. And her headache was getting worse and worse and worse and the last thing she needed was a critical failure of her cybernetics while eighteen hundred tons of pain had her classified as Threat Numero Uno. There was a larger stone outcropping ahead; she skidded to a halt behind that, and considered her options.

One, try to get closer. Running directly at it was suicide, but if she could get on its back, she was pretty sure it could not reach her. Maybe then she could get inside. Maybe. Two, try to get away. Ha ha, fat chance, and that didn’t solve her original problem. Three, try to… she looked down at the spear in her hand. Poke it? She considered throwing it away, but she couldn’t bring herself to. God you’re an idiot, Katherine, she thought to herself.

She had to get closer. She glanced around the side of the outcropping. The dragon was opening its jaw again. She took off running. It was a good thing, too; the outcropping exploded into fragments and the borer tore into the side of the mountain like it wasn’t even there. Some big chunks of rock hit Katherine on the back and head while she ran, but they weren’t big enough to knock her down, and the pain suppression was doing its job.

Now she ran down the slope, at a forty-five degree angle toward the base of the monster. Its feet were massive, nearly the size of one of the houses in the village, and the nearest one began rising in the air as she approached, as the creature took another slow step toward her. Crunch. It smashed the earth flat below it as it came down, but Katherine saw what she needed in the glow of another laser blast: an access ladder, reaching down to ground level.

It took a good seven or eight seconds at least between laser blasts. If she could escape one more, she could probably run straight at it and close the distance in that time. She began running parallel to the thing again, this time in the opposite direction; it fired, she pivoted ninety degrees, and fell flat on her face.

She scrambled to her feet; its mouth was already open again. A wild, elemental terror filled her body, and she sprinted blindly; there was another explosion, and she felt something go into her right leg. She stumbled again, but did not fall; but now her right leg was only halfheartedly obeying her commands.

Nothing for it, she thought. Just fucking run.

She made it to the leg just as it was rising into the air again, and leapt up to grab the handhold; the dragon froze, its leg in the air, as if confused, and Katherine scrambled up onto the ladder, and started climbing as quickly as she could with her shield and spear. She remembered where the access hatch had been on the other one: middle of the back, high up, near where the neck met the shoulder-ish part. The dragon’s head swung right, then left; haha fucker, she thought. Can’t laser me now. What she had not counted on was that the motion of the thing’s body made it extremely difficult to keep her grip; even as she came to the almost-flat part of the back, she had to cling to the ladder to keep from being flung off.

Finally, she found the hatch and the access panel. She used the end of the spear to pop it open, and found the neural interface on the first try. Then she saw the readout on the panel.

THREAT ELIMINATION MODE ACTIVE - DO NOT ATTEMPT ACCESS

Katherine froze. She’d heard stories--back before these things were more strictly regulated--of security protocols that could fry neural laces, even induce crippling brain damage. It wasn’t hard, if you had complete, unfettered access to someone’s brain and you were an epic asshole, to do them real harm, or just straight up kill them. That kind of thing was usually banned now. But it hadn’t always been. Katherine frowned. She tapped the physical interface of the control panel.

“DO NOT ATTEMPT ACCESS!” flashed more brightly.

“Fuck you,” she whispered to herself. She tapped it again, to see if she could get some sort of override input to come up.

PROXIMITY DEFENSE SYSTEM ENGAGED

A smaller hatch opened nearby, and something popped up out of it. Something that looked suspiciously like a miniature version of a laser borer. It swiveled to face Katherine.

“Oh come on!”

She let go of her handhold, sliding back down the side of the dragon as a second laser sliced the air above her. The dragon bucked, and she went flying off the side. There was a crunch, and a sharp pain signal, quickly muted, in her left arm. She groaned, and rolled over; the shield was still strapped to it, but her left forearm was definitely broken. She looked down at her leg. Her calf was sliced open, a deep, jagged cut. Her spear had fallen to the ground perhaps twenty feet away, and the dragon was turning, slowly, to face her.

I tried, she thought to herself. I really tried. At least it will be a quick death. The bird will probably be destroyed. I don’t know what the dragon will do after that. And I don’t know what idiot designed this thing, and what stupid fucking regulatory agency got bribed to approve it, but perhaps maybe then it will back off. And I can’t say I didn’t try.

She swallowed a lump in her throat. Fuck, was this really how it was going to end? She had survived the water and the ice and the darkness and all the rest, just to die in a flash of fire? The jaws of the dragon opened; a red glow filled the air.

It wasn’t even really a conscious decision at this point. Pure instinct. She curled herself up behind her shield, and did her best to make herself as small as possible. There was a terrific noise, a sensation of terrible heat and then--nothing. She looked up. She was alive. She looked down at her shield. It was glowing red-hot in the middle, and there was an awful stench of burned meat where the back of her hand was touching it; she flung it away, and looked up at the dragon.

The mirror finish had reflected enough of the laser to score a deep gash in it, running from the side of its head, back through its shoulder, deep into the machinery of its belly. Its jaw was shattered, hanging limply, even as its head swung left and right, like it was trying to make sense of what had happened.

“FUCK YOU YOU OVERGROWN POSTHOLE DIGGER!” Katherine screamed. She ran over to her spear and snatched it up. She could see, as the beast moved now, the way the machinery in its belly held it up, pistons moving back and forth to balance it, what looked like a supply of hydraulic fluid to move its legs. Most of it was solid metal, nothing she could do anything about, but there was one spot, exposed by the blast of the laser, still glowing from its heat, where she could see what looked like an important tank of something made out of plastic. And maybe, just maybe, she could immobilize it if she could cut it open.

“Okay, asshole,” she said to herself. “One last go.” She broke into a run straight toward the dragon. Its head swung in an arc directly down toward her, as if trying to flatten her into the stones; she turned, avoided it, but her foot caught a rock and she stumbled--but did not fall. As she came up underneath it, it began to move its legs apart, bringing its body down as if to flatten her; but this worked to Katherine’s favor, dropping her target until it was almost directly above her head. She leapt directly up, using every ounce of her cybernetically enhanced strength, and drove the spear home as hard as it could. For a brief moment, she thought it would bounce harmlessly off; but it caught some imperfection in the molded surface, and sank deep inside. The pressurized tank exploded, and a reeking, slick, chemical solution gushed out, drenching her from head to toe.

She fell to the ground, as the dragon loomed over her, and staggered. Something was terribly wrong now; her eyes were burning, and her nose, and the headache from her neural lace felt like it was going split her skull open. She watched the dragon flail for a moment, then slow--then still.

Oh God, she thought. Was it enough? Is it over? Are they safe?

#tanadrin's fiction

[ticklygiggles]

Height matters | Soukoku

A/N: I haven’t read nor watched Bungou Stray Dogs in ages! And I haven’t seen dead Apple yet either, but I hope you all enjoy this fic! Thank you for requesting and I'm sorry for the long wait!

Summary: there's an embarrassing situation, a slightly guilty Dazai and Chuuya can't express love very well.

Very light mentions of death, but nothing too intense.

18. “I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean that.” (Now that I think about it, this sentence can have a lot of meanings…)

Words: 1k+

“I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean that, Chuu-Chan,” Dazai tries to comfort his boyfriend, patting his head and rubbing his back softly, however, at his words, Chuuya simply whines, his face burying deep into Dazai’s chest and his arms wrapping tightly around his middle. “Since when do you mind what kids say about you?”

“Since they called me short in front of everyone at the market,” Chuuya whines again. “This is all your fault!”

Dazai chuckles, but doesn’t say anything back. It is, somehow, his fault: Chuuya had told him yesterday afternoon that they were out of eggs for breakfast and Dazai promised, (he promised), to stop by the market before coming back home.

Of course, he didn’t. So Chuuya had to wake up earlier that day and damn his way out of the apartment to the market because, apparently, ’it was his turn to go and get eggs’, in that exact moment his nightmare started.

At the market, when Chuuya was, in fact, not trying to get anything from the higher shelves, but, actually, from the lower ones, three kids suddenly appeared and gathered around him, lifting their chubby and filthy little fingers to point at him, screaming ‘short, short, short, short!’, over and over again. Chuuya was beyond surprised, his eyes widening and his cheeks flushing bright red in embarrassment when some people started to look over at the scene.

He cringed at the memory. It was an awful experience. All thanks to Dazai.

“What did you do to them?” Dazai asks, his hand scratching Chuuya’s back, making him shiver.

“I hit them in the head!” Chuuya’s voice is muffled against Dazai’s chest. “I got bullied by random kids just because you didn’t want to go and buy damn eggs!”

Dazai whined when he felt a punch on his back, his arms tightening around Chuuya. “I really am sorry, Chuuya.”

“I know you are not, you always laugh at my height, anyways!” Dazai chuckles, shaking his head. “You see?!” Dazai growls as he receives another punch in his back. “You are the worst.”

“I’m not! I haven’t made fun of your height in ages! I promise-

"No, you can’t make promises anymore!” Chuuya pushes himself out of Dazai’s embrace, but Dazai quickly hugs him back, tightly, dipping his head between Chuuya’s neck and shoulder. “Let go! Let go!”

“No, until you forgive me,” Dazai mumbles against Chuuya’s skin.

“You bastard, I will never! I was humiliated by kids! I hate you so m- don’t you fucking dare,” Chuuya warns through clenched teeth when he feels a flutter of fingers against the curve of his waist, making him jump in Dazai’s embrace and jerk to the side.

“Forgive me, Chuu-chan,” Dazai whines, lifting his face from Chuuya’s neck and smiling when he notices Chuuya’s flushed cheekbones.

Dazai doesn’t fail to also notice a playful glint twinkling in Chuuya’s eyes and he knows he’s not as angry as he claims to be, after all, Chuuya couldn’t care less about what other people think about him, especially not some random kids making fun of him in a market, from all places.

So, why was he being a whiny little baby?

“Please?”

“Hell no.” Dazai sees it: that tiny little smirk tugging at the corner of Chuuya’s mouth. Chuuya is being a whiny little baby because he wants Dazai’s attention.

Now, this does not happen often. In fact, Dazai can’t remember the last time Chuuya acted this way around him. He’s always pushing him away when Dazai wants to kiss him or cuddle him, but there are times, very rare times, where Chuuya really needs to feel that Dazai is there for him.

Maybe Chuuya doesn’t give a fuck about what other people think about him, but when it comes to Dazai, then he’s extremely insecure. Scared of losing Dazai for matters such his height and the fact that every single day of their lives is full of danger. One of them, (sometimes he wishes both of them), could die and just vanish from this world.

Chuuya is sure he couldn’t take the pain of being without his partner, so he tries to just not fall more deeply in love with him, but it’s impossible. He’s already so drunk in love that he chooses to act hostile towards his lover and push him away when he tries to initiate affection, but guilt eats him inside everytime and he starts to think that Dazai will grow tired of him and his lack of demonstration of love.

It is a cycle that drives Chuuya crazy until he can’t take it anymore and he starts to act this way: wanting Dazai’s attention even when he knows his lover thinks of the most stupid ways to show attention, as tickling.

It’s a relieve, however, when Dazai actually gives him what he’s looking for; that’s how he knows they’re okay. That’s how he knows Dazai still loves him and that he’s not tired of him yet. Just not yet.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Dazai shrugs and his hand reaches down to cup Chuuya’s waist, giving it a firm squeeze.

Chuuya jumps and lets out a bark of laughter, his hand catching Dazai’s wrist and pushing at it softly. “Fuhuhuck off!”

“Fuck off? But you are enjoying yourself so much already, Chuu-chan!” Dazai wiggles his eyebrows seeing Chuuya’s cheeks blush deeply. “Say you are enjoying yourself and I’ll 'fuck off’”

“Never!” Chuuya pushes himself off Dazai’s embrace and runs out of the kitchen towards the messy living room, almost dying when his foot slipped with a cushion.

“Chuuya!” Chuuya squeaks when Dazai appears in the living room, as well. His hands up in the air, wiggling fingers, making a warm sensation spread inside Chuuya’s belly and his mouth tremble in a nervous smile. “Chuuya, I’ll give you one more chance,” he warns, slowy approaching to Chuuya as he backs away. “Say you are enjoying yourself and I’ll let you be.”

Chuuya shakes his head, squeaking when his back finally touches the door, Dazai cornering him right away. “I will never!”

So stubborn.

“Ah, that was the answer I wanted to hear.” Dazai smirks and he presses his body against Chuuya’s, making him laugh as he desperately tries to get a hold of Dazai’s hands, wanting to get a hold of Chuuya’s sides. “Stop resisting!”

“Are you insa- ah! Fuck! Ahahahaha, no!” Chuuya starts to squirm immediately, trying to push Dazai away as he squeezes the length of Chuuya’s sides, lingering on the spots that make him jump and shriek with laughter.

“What? Do you want me to stop already? I’m just starting!” Chuuya shakes his head, trying to grab those hands making him laugh uncontrollably. “Nuh-uh, Chuuya, you had your chance, you can’t stop me now. Now lift those arms for me, would you?”

Chuuya shakes his head no. “You ahahahare crahahazy! Why would I do thahahat?!”

“Okay,” Dazai says, shrugging his shoulders. “Whatever.” Chuuya presses himself against the door even more, gluing his arms to his sides, but Dazai easily worms his fingers between Chuuya's sides and arms until they’re wiggling on his armpits.

Loud laughter bubbles out of his mouth as those devious fingers tickle his armpits mercilessly. “Dahahahazai! Stop! Stahahahap!”

He slowly starts to slide down the door and Dazai gasps dramatically, “trying to escape?! I don’t think so!” However, in an opening, Chuuya is able to crawl away from Dazai, but not for too long, he quickly grabs him by the hips and drags him back, taking a seat on top of his butt. “You’re really gonna get it now, Chuuya.”

“No! No, plehehehease!” Dazai latches his hands onto Chuuya’s waist, squeezing the skin softly and making Chuuya cackle for real: his head thrown back as his fists bang the floor. “Dahahahazai! Dazai plehehease not thehehere! Not there!” He begs, tears of laughter filling his eyes and threatening to fall down his flushed cheeks.

“What is it, Chuuya? Are you a bit ticklish here in your waist?” Chuuya can barely talk as laughter keeps pushing its way out of his throat and his hands blindly look for Dazai’s. “Chuuya is so ticklish on his waist? Is this his worst spot?”

“Shut your fuhuhuhuhucking fahahahace!”

“Why? Do you get flustered?” Chuuya can hear the smirk on Dazai’s mouth, but he can’t do anything else but laugh until his lover decides to show mercy on him.

“Why ahahare you doing thihihis?!”

Dazai hums, “I don’t know anymore… because I love you?”

I love you too.

“Why thank you, Chuuya,” Chuuya cackles when Dazai claws at his waist. “I think this is, probably, the fourth time I have ever heard you say such things! I was starting to think that you didn’t love me at all!”

“I do! I do love you!” Chuuya shrieks through his laughter, totally forgetting the fact that he said what he said out loud.

“Do you, really?”

“I dohohoho! Stohohop, please!” Chuuya has finally go limp under Dazai, his laughter becoming wheezy and his body squirming weakly.

“Hmm, how much?”

“How muhuhuhuch stop? Completely!”

Dazai rolls his eyes, playfully. “Haha so funny. Die of laughter, then.”

“Ahahaha! Okay! Okahahay! A lot! I love you a frigging lot!”

“Am I the love of your life?”

“You ahahahare! Plehehehease, Dazai! I cahahahan’t!” Dazai stops right away, letting Chuuya catch his breath for a bit before he turns him over, straddling his hips.

Dazai feels a heat swirl on his cheeks looking at Chuuya’s face: flushed, teary, sweaty and even a bit snoty, however, a big smile is plastered on his face and his eyes are half-closed in almost bliss. He really steals Dazai’s breath away.

“I love you,” Chuuya suddenly says, once his breathing has calmed down. “I really do love you, you crazy suicidal bastard.” He pulls softly at Dazai’s clothes. “I love you, Dazai.”

“I love you too,” Dazai whispers against Chuuya’s lips before they kiss deeply. Chuuya wrapping his arms around Dazai’s neck and Dazai placing his hands on Chuuya’s hypersensitive waist, making him jerk and giggle in the kiss, but not breaking away.

Maybe Dazai will never get tired of him, after all. That’s something really nice to know.

#bungou stray dogs #soukoku #nakahara chuuya #dazai osamu #tickle fic #ticklish!chuuya #mia's things #mia's fics