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annoying-probably · 1 year

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Akitouya is the definition of homiesexuals (and more, but sad).

That's my hook line for the start of the post anyways to go into more depth; you can really read them as both being horrificly in love and held back by something or another, a thin veil of friendship. Now, this is not only 5am posting, but also, my opinion. You can read them however you want to. Will they ever be canon? God knows! I am a little to autistic to understand if I am reading something as coding or if it is even there at all yk? No matter what. Whatever. This could also go over anhane but "I'm going on a date with Kohane!" An shiraishi is definitely read far less as coding at this point, honestly.

Anyways.

They do everything normal friends would, they look out for each other, protect each other from their fears, sit next to each other and always seem to understand each other. But there's extra steps to it. It's never just "I want to be friends forever." It's "I want to be by your side forever." VBS' in general theme is partnership, not best friendship. There's a deeper connection flowing under the surface. It's almost telekinetic at points- we can see from card stories, the pre main story ones, Akito says he can't understand Touya's face, and sometime after the main story, he can "understand that stoic face of yours." /Parap. Something that most other people struggle with, with Touya. For one example.

Now, I could debate until the heat death of the universe that they're coded or they aren't- that's anyone's game. I'm not here to force you to think they're a couple. Just they have a bond far deeper than just classic best buddies.

Some would say till death do they part.

Tw! This part will deal with themes of suicide and ideation of such.

Nothing you wouldn't see outside the game.

I'll admit, I haven't read walk on and on or find a way out. I do know the songs pretty well! Infact I haven't done a suspended animation analysis because it seems so cut and dry. Even in the names of the events, find a way out of what? Pointlessness? Walk on and on can be either way. Walking on and on forever because Touya's a little fruity, wanting to be beside Akito forever, or just feeling like everyday is just walking on and on.

The songs aren't a very different story. Utsuro wo aogu, a song about staring into the face of the "void" and smiling. Walking beside it and becoming one with it on occasion. It's as obvious "wanting to disappear" from niigo. But he smiles, because Touya is used to the void, and accepts it as a part of life, of him. Ideally living alongside it. Suspended animation.. well it's all in lyrics itself. It doesn't stop there, though. Ghost city Tokyo, Airhead, au no beats. Probably more I'm missing. Different songs about accepting death, or accepting the idea of suicide. Ghost city Tokyo, specifically, can be read thematically similar to utsuro wo aogu, accepting the idea of living because you've got someone beside you. Aun no beats about not accepting someone's gone. The writers wouldn't pick the songs for no reason, obviously.

They're really both unstable, but stay stable by being together, the others sense of reason. They're guiding the world together, fighting the same struggles separately, but bearing the pain of it together. It's really sweet yet sad, to me. When they fight, the few times we see, you can see how much different they are. That's also from the added stress of the situations, too. I must stress, you shouldn't live for another person- only yourself. But this is obviously the dynamic these two very mentally ill teens have built their trust on- that no matter what, it's them against the world.

I'd even say you can see this sort of gentle pushing in their everyday life, they're guiding each other through teasing and such. Touya is the one who makes Akito study and do homework, out right bullying him into doing it (exaggerating, he does seem way more serious when it comes down to it, though. Kohane sbd 3* SS2?? I think?). They poke at each other to get better, by relying and climbing off each others good points to get better. They hold each other to the exact standard they hold themselves, but, atleast earlier in the story, always held their partner to some unachievable, perfect standard. Now, they're side-by-side, in some 3-legged-race against everyone else. ( This isn't exclusive to them!!!! Antouya and Akikoha and Akian have similar versions of this dynamic, but slightly different. Like akian being more teasing and competitive to grow, antouya being like a supportive pair of siblings who hype each other up, etc etc.)

They're constantly described as being conjoined at the hip, which we even see in cards and animations; they.. really are. In every singular way. Their songs all have sad meanings, it's as if they will follow each other everywhere, no matter what. Which is a disturbing thought with their mental states!! ( I do not believe any of them are okay after Gekokujo, even if they say they are,, ). Id expect to see some big breakdown from one of them, since An just had one, and some big group cry, or something similar or Kohane getting her big leader moment where she pulls them all together. Now they get more hips to be attached with!! They're all close and besties, Akty just had way more time to work on their bond. Almost 4 years in canon!!!! Only a few major arguments and close fun years of healing, fighting the world together. It's time they opened up their views too :) but I doubt they'll get quite the same dynamic with anyone else. They just have that spark that can't be replicated.

Does this rant mean anything? I don't know! Wanted to write something for akty week and saw I had this WIP, so finished it up. Might do a hc post soon :))

#suicide mentions #akty #akitoya #vbs #project sekai #pjsk #prsk #fun fact i dont remember writing half of this #so if it feels weirdly different? that's why #this was written over possibly at most half a year #I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS LAST NIGHT I JUST SAVED IT TO MY DRAFTS AGAIN FUCK #shinonome akito #touya aoyagi #aoyagi toya #shiraishi an #azusawa kohane #vivid bad squad

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waitingforwinterwinds · 2 years

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Game of Thrones - 67 SANSA VI (pages 716-725)

Sansa struggles emotionally and mentally in the aftermath of her father's death. Joffrey stops pretending he's any kind of decent human being.

Perhaps I will die too, she told herself, and the thought did not seem so terrible to her. If she flung herself from the window, she could put an end to her suffering, and in the years to come the singers would write songs of her grief. Her body would lie on the stones below, broken and innocent, shaming all those who had betrayed her. Sansa went so far as to cross the bedchamber and throw open the shutters... but then courage left her, and she ran back to her bed, sobbing.

Ummm, holy fuck?

Well there's something the show cut out, but I suppose D&D aren't the kind to let us sit with the grief of a young girl unless it's immediately turning her into some kind of badass.

Poor Sansa. I remember having those kinds of thoughts 'dying would be easy' and 'this will punish them' and 'they'll feel bad about it when I'm gone' but it's bullshit. The kind of people, who hurt others to that point, do not give a fuck what they do to others, don't give a fuck what their actions make others do to themselves. The only people who get hurt or punished by those choices, are the ones who love you. Joffrey and Cersei? Definitely won't feel shamed, just aggravated they've lost a valuable playing piece.

The best revenge, is living (well). It's the living who can make people pay for their crimes.

Once Grand Maester Pycelle came with a box of flasks and bottles, to ask if she was ill. He felt her brow, made her undress, and touched her all over while her bedmaid held her down.

Fuck off and die, both of you. Bad Touch!

Sansa stared at him, seeing him for the first time. He was wearing a padded crimson doublet patterned with lions and a cloth-of-gold cape with a high collar that framed his face. She wondered how she could have ever thought he was handsome. His lips were as soft and red as the worms you found after rain, and his eyes were vain and cruel. "I hate you," she whispered.

Yeah, it's a little hard to see the world through rose tinted glasses when someone splattered them with blood. I'm so sorry you had to have your world view shattered like this. In a fair world, people would have been kind and just and righteous like you always believed. But this isn't a fair world, because GRRM is a sick and twisted man. (joking)

When the time came to dress, she chose the green silk gown that she had worn to the tourney. She recalled how gallant Joff had been to her that night at the feast. Perhaps it would make him remember as well, and treat her more gently.

Yes, good, use what you know, use what you've got. Ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis Association, good, now if only he had ever actually been what you thought he was, this would have a good chance of success. Though, the success would still be mild.

This is a good use of defensive manipulation, subtle, using something associated with a better mood, to subconsciously promote a better mood. ... but iirc, that feast ended with Cersei in a row with Bobby B, so... *sigh*

Kinda odd that she refers to him as Joff here though, it may just be a way to separate the idea of him from the reality of him. Like the inverse of what we saw Dany do a few chapters ago, when she tried to psych herself up for cruelty and her narrative voice referred to her as Daenerys, instead of Dany.

"Did he instruct you to hit me if I refuse to come?" "Are you refusing to come, my lady?" The look he gave her was without expression. He did not so much as glance at the bruise her had left her. He did not hate her, Sansa realized; neither did he love her. He felt nothing for her at all. She was only a... a thing to him. "No," she said, rising. She wanted to rage, to hurt him as he'd hurt her, to warn him that when she was queen she would have him exiled if he ever dared strike her again... but she remembered what the Hound had told her, so all she said was, "I shall do whatever His Grace commands."

That has to be so terrifying, to be faced with someone who has such apathy, to know you aren't even seen as human. Her threats wouldn't have held water even if she'd said them, she'd be queen (if the dissolving of the engagement hadn't happened in the future) but queen by marriage, all her power would come from her husband, she'd have no say in anything if he disagreed. Maybe if she had a loyal following within the court, had her own power, but right now her only power comes from the fact Cersei can still use her for political plays, from being a hostage.

But a voice inside her whispered, There are no heroes, and she remembered what Lord Petyr had said to her, here in this very hall. "Life is not a song, sweeting," he'd told her. "You may learn that one day to your sorrow." In life, the monsters win, she told herself, and now it was the Hound's voice she heard, a cold rasp, metal on stone. "Save yourself some pain, girl, and give him what he wants."

Oh, sweetheart.

I hate that she has to experience such an enormous mental reset, but if she doesn't get this sorted away, she's not going to have the wherewithal to get through this.

"You truly are a stupid girl, aren't you? My mother says so." ... "I'll get you with child as soon as you're able," Joffrey said as he escorted her across the practice yard. "If the first one is stupid, I'll chop off your head and marry a smarter wife. -"

Says the boy-king who can't even form his own opinions without his mother spoon feeding them to him, unless it's in the name of unnecessary levels of violence on his behalf.

"Do it, girl," Sandor Clegane told her, pushing her back toward the king. His mouth twitched on the burned side of his face and Sansa could almost hear the rest of it. He'll have you up there no matter what, so give him what he wants.

mmm, and there's the rub. There's where people look and say 'Sansa's a completely passive hostage, she never fought back' like they were paying zero attention.

She's facing an opponent with such a different level of power to her own, she has no way out, no resources, effectively no allies, she has to pick her battles knowing she is always going to lose. Any strike she makes has to be done with delicate precision and any defiance done knowing she will get away with it, because she isn't going to get away with anything. She knows what Joffrey is now, she's beginning to truly understand the kind of situation she's in.

The bamboo bends, so it does not break. (but even bamboo has a breaking point.)

The heads were mounted between the crenels, along the top of the wall, impaled on iron spikes so they faced out over the city. Sansa had noted them the moment she'd stepped out onto the wallwalk, but the river and the bustling streets and the setting sun were ever so much prettier. He can make me look at the heads, she told herself, but he can't make me see them.

This whole section you can sort of feel the vibe of her starting to almost intentionally disassociate. ihatethisihatethisihatethisihatethis

A kind of madness took over her then, and she heard herself say, "Maybe my brother will give me your head." ... The outer parapet came up to her chin, but along the inner edge of the walk was nothing, nothing but a long plunge to the bailey seventy or eighty feet below. All it would take was a shove, she told herself. He was standing right there, right there, smirking at her with those fat wormlips. You could do it, she told herself. You could. Do it right now. It wouldn't even matter if she went over with him. It wouldn't matter at all. ... The moment was gone. Sansa lowered her eyes. "Thank you," she said when he was done. She was a good girl, and always remembered her courtesies.

Ooph, she snapped a bit. I hate that she was struck bloody and it's a situation where "thank goodness that didn't end worse" is an applicable statement. I know "maybe he'll give me yours" is treated like her big bad girlboss moment, but looking at this as 'a victim and her abuser,' fuck that was dangerous, especially with someone whose ego is that inflated, and their power that unquestioned. That wasn't even something she meant to say. Think it, sure, but out loud?

Kinda icky circle with this chapter, ends where it began, with Sansa being suicidal, and shrugging on her courtesies to protect herself even though she really doesn't want to.

(I have mentioned in a previous chapter review, the 5 F's, those are Fight, Flight, Freeze, Flop and Fawn, they're the inherent trauma and fear responses of humans, Fawn is also called Friend, and it's the trauma response Sansa is exhibiting, also being forced to exhibit. This trauma response is less physical in its characteristics, and plays to the emotional side of the threat. (Think of scared side kicks of villains like LeFou to Gaston in Beauty and the Beast, or Shang Qinghua to Mobei Jun if you're into SVSSS) the idea of Fawn is "I'm not a threat, I'm your friend, I'm not prey, I'm helpful.")

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #sansa stark #suicide #suicide mentions #thoughts of suicide #a chapter a day reading #got #long post

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roodles03 · 2 years

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TW: Suicide

This scene man...I think its legit my favorite scene in the entire show. It felt relatable to me in a way, but I couldn't pinpoint on why I related to it or how it had really left an impact on me.

Then...it all became clear.

I hate to get into some heavy shit, as I normally like to keep my super dark and extremely personal issues to myself, but I think a big reason this scene impacts me so much was because just a few days ago I had sereve suicidal thoughts for the first time in months maybe even over a year, just when I thought I was getting better. It was to the point where I was starting to make plans. Which is someone I only have dome if I'm REALLY REALLY down the line in the suicidal thoughts. 99% its just thoughts.

Some heavy shit happened in my personal life that I wont go into detail here, but I went to my discord to vent about what was going on. And a friend of mine, someone who I honsetly really like and admire, gave me a long speech about how much I changed their life and how much I meant to them and then told me that they werent the only one who've of positively effected with my work, and I reacted pretty much EXACTLY like Hunter. I broke down in tears because I wa so touched. And like Hunter, I was trying to hold it in at first. But the tears just overcame me. That speech might've literally saved my life. Hearing that someone truly loves you when you feel like nobody loves you really really hit home. Hunter being told he's family must've had a similar emotional impact on him. The scene felt so real and impactful.

I love this scene. I cant put it into words. This scene feels so real. It really hit me hard. I can't believe I just realised this.

#tw #tw suicide #suicide mentions #the owl house #the owl house hunter #hunter the owl house #hunter toh #toh hunter #the owl house fanart #hunter deamonne #hunter wittebane #hunter the golden guard #luz noceda #thanks to them #thanks to them the owl house #the owl house thanks to them #thanks to them toh #toh thanks to them

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harper-collins · 8 months

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This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

AU, Where Scar joins before the beginning of YHS

Scar tries his best to avoid Sam and Taurtis, but when they invite him to join them in a bet to stay in the school overnight, it's difficult to say not to Taurtis. What he finds there makes him sorely regret his decisions.

Mature Rating due to Gareth's death and the explanation of the classroom

Trigger Warning for Gareth's ending in the series and the depiction of the scene after it all happened later in the writing (it's not too graphic)

Written for Episode 13

Scar tried to avoid situations, especially when they caused drama. That was why he felt uncomfortable when he realised that certain people were in the same class as him. He didn’t know them or really recognise them at first. On the second day, when Sam really started to show himself properly in class, Scar saw him and began to recognise him in and out of school.

Many of the students had mostly labelled him as an awkward loser, and although Scar did think them right, he didn’t take the belief himself. After all, he wanted to keep his opinions of everyone nice until something showed otherwise, and even if he was a bit odd, that didn’t necessarily make him a bad person. At least, that’s what Scar first thought.

He tried to ignore what was happening when he saw Sam, Taurtis and J inside Gareth’s house (seemingly sneaking about), but when it came out around social media… It was difficult to ignore. That was when Scar decided to try to avoid the trio and their little dramas. After all, he didn’t want to stress himself out too much.

When everything had seemingly calmed down the next day (apart from people accusing Gareth of killing his ex-wife), he thought people had ignored the whole situation and come back to most of its normality… Before leaving for lunch, he tried to comfort Gareth a little, but the teacher seemed so out of it that he hardly noticed Scar.

Coming back the next day made Scar’s blood run cold. Gareth had… Died? It was worse that Gareth left things for them during their lesson and that some students decided to stay with the teacher’s hanging body. When people finally came in to see what was happening, he felt more than glad that school had been cancelled.

From there and for a while, Scar either didn’t show up for school, or everything was such a mess he wasn’t really partaking in anything. He hadn’t known Gareth well, but for that to happen during his first few lessons with a teacher… Well, things weren’t going well for his new school. He’d often find himself in one of the empty classrooms by himself, trying to figure out what work was in front of him.

A couple of nights later, when he’d gone out for a meal, Sam and Taurtis and a bunch of people ended up coming to the restaurant he’d parked himself in; he tried to ignore them and stay out of the loop until he heard a bet going on. Dom, as idiotic as the day he’d first met him, had dared Sam to go to the school at night and see who could stay the longest.

Sam, being an idiot, both agreed and roped Taurtis into it. Scar tried talking to Taurtis privately shortly after to get him or Sam out of the situation. After all, they’d be breaking and entering… Yet, neither of them seemed to care. In fact, by the end of the conversation, Taurtis had somehow managed to rope Scar into the whole situation as well. That was why he stood outside the building, waiting for the others to arrive.

When they arrived, not only did he realise that Sam and Taurtis were there, but Salex and Invader had also found themselves in the situation. Scar couldn’t have face palmed harder. When they noticed him, they came over, and Taurtis welcomed him for the ride, with Sam being a little indifferent to his presence. Scar didn’t really care, though, and just wanted to get this over and done with.

“M…Maybe they won’t show up,” The small group heard from the opening of the school. Taurtis only laughed at that and brought himself closer. “Wassup Dom! We’re here, bruh!” Sam shouted, making Scar cringe inwardly. He then tried to lag behind the girls to try and make it look like he wasn’t there. “We’re here, and we’re queer!” Taurtis shouted, completely ignoring his girlfriend beside him.

Sam laughed at the other, and the two had a small conversation about how they weren’t queer shortly after. The male, lagging behind, suddenly realised how much these two had gone off track with their original goals and how slow the night would be. He almost wanted to step out now before they even went inside.

Dom quickly brought the conversation back to what it should have been. “It looks pretty spook. Are you sure you nerds can handle it?” He asked, glancing at the two with a smirk. Sam only took offence to the fact that Dom thought he couldn’t handle it and almost spat in his face as he shouted that he could handle it.

Everything quickly dissolved into chatter shortly after, and Scar began to tune out their conversation as he looked nervously at the darkened school. Suddenly, he noticed Sam was walking into the school with everyone hurrying in after him, including a blind Invader. With a heavy sigh and his paranoia telling him not to go in with them, he crossed over to the entrance and looked around.

Very shortly after, the Bell rang through the school. “Why’d the bell go off?” He heard Sam mutter, looking up at the ceiling with hesitation. Scar glanced back at the entrance before looking back at everyone else. He could hear other people mutter that it was the middle of the night, and Scar glanced over to Taurtis with his girlfriend. Why was he even here? Why had he decided to come still?

“Is this place haunted?” Sam asked, to which Taurtis replied that it couldn’t be because ghosts don’t exist, but Scar very much thought otherwise. “I mean, Gareth died here not too long ago, Sam,” he quietly reminded the other. That brought everyone’s attention quickly to him as they remembered their teacher quietly.

“I heard that the school has been haunted ever since Teacher Gareth’s death,” Salex chirped up, furthering Scar’s note about their former teacher. “Well… Let’s split up, Dom; you take that side of the school—” Sam said, motioning over to the right-hand of the school with all its classes. “—and we’ll take this side of the school,” Sam continued on, motioning to the gym.

The group became smaller, and Taurtis motioned for him to join them. “C’mon, dude! You can’t leave us behind!” He said, giving a bright smile to the other. Scar shook his head a little and took out a flashlight. It was quite dark, and he knew he didn’t have eyes like his good cat, Jellie. “Oh! That’s a good idea, Scar. Do you have any other flashlights?” Taurtis questioned, looking a little desperate.

“No… I thought you guys would bring your own!” Scar replied, looking a little concerned at the other. Taurtis merely shook his head. “Nah, we came from the restaurant straight over to here,” he said casually as if it were a bragging right. “C’mon, guys! Let’s go further in!” Sam said just as it began to rain outside. Scar came further into the room, acting as their primary light source as they began to look around.

He briefly heard Salex ask Taurtis to stay near him, but the sudden lightning cut off her voice. After the initial shock, the others began to wander off without Scar as he glanced around the room with his flashlight. “Woah, this is the gym teacher’s office,” He heard Sam say in the distance. Glancing nervously, Scar went up to join the others and their little escapade. They were currently going through the gym teacher’s stuff.

“Guys, this is a private room! Should we really be here?” He asked, hoping that they’d come out. Another lightning strike went out as they found some food, and the sound encouraged them to stay inside the room, even if just a little longer. “Maybe we have another look around?” Sam questioned, a little nervous. The others nodded a little more and stole some extra snacks before finally making their way out. All of a sudden, though, Sam had an idea.

“Dude! Wouldn’t it be creepy if we went to Teacher Gareth’s room?!” Sam asked, looking quite excited at the idea. “God no, Sam, that’s a bad idea! It’s all boarded up,” Scar interjected before anyone else could agree with the other. Sam gave him a frown, although he didn’t say anything else to Scar, electing to ignore the other and his common sense.

Another lightning strike went off as Taurtis began to speak, making the others shiver, suddenly feeling quite cold in the gym. Sam continued on. “Do you wanna do it, Taurtis?” Looking at his friend with a bit of a darkened look. “Why don’t you go first, Sam?” The other suggested instead, avoiding saying yes and upsetting his friend. Sam grinned at this as Invader began to talk about Gareth haunting the school again.

The bell rang again, and Scar felt his throat dry. “Maybe we should just wait in the lobby for Dom,” Scar mumbled, not expecting anyone to agree. As he thought, Sam and the others ignored him as they all began walking outside the gymnasium. Scar hurried with his flashlight, using it to find his way around some of the mess left around the school.

Another lightning strike went off as they all began climbing up the stairs, and they soon found Dom once they got to the right floor. They were already in Gareth’s old room, and Scar felt the hairs on his neck prickle upwards. Why wasn’t he leaving already? “What do you want, nerds?” Dom asked from the other side of the hallway.

“Just wanted to make sure you hadn’t decided to leave already like the pansy you are!” Sam quipped back, looking at the other with a dangerously devious look; it quickly left as he saw Dom trying to break into Gareth’s classroom. “What are you doing?” He asked, glancing at the partially opened door. “Trying to get in,” he replied, breaking through the glass.

Invader jumped in quickly, and the others soon joined them as Dom failed to get through the window. Scar glanced at Dom for a long moment before he finally entered the room. As they began to look around, the bell went off again. Only it wasn’t quite normal anymore. It was broken down as if the school was dying itself. They all looked at one another before looking around and noticing the rope.

“Oh my god, it’s still here,” Sam said, drawing everyone’s attention to the rope hanging from the ceiling. It was then that Scar realised how stupid these two genuinely were. “I dare you to stand on the stool, Taurtis,” Sam dared, watching his friend with a freakishly darkened expression. The other didn’t hesitate as he went on the stool.

“‘I’m Teacher Gareth! Blehhh’,” Taurtis joked, standing on the stool with the very rope used above him. Scar looked away, glancing towards the windows with a miserable expression. That was such a horrible way to do something. It felt like disrespecting a grave or a monument. If Gareth hadn’t been treated well in life, he certainly wouldn’t get respect in death either.

“That’s dark, dude,” Dom murmured, feeling slightly uncomfortable at what had just happened. The male nodded himself as he continued looking outside the window. He didn’t want to look into the classroom right now. Taurtis quickly blamed it on Sam with the dare, but the other denied it. Scar inwardly blamed them both. Everyone went along with Dom, saying how bad and insensitive the entire thing had been, and Scar felt a little better at mumbling his own opinion as well. It had been truly disgusting to witness.

Everyone began to settle down in chairs for the classroom as Sam looked to see there were still assignments and tests Gareth had left for them in the chest. Sam went to the front of the class as everyone sat down, eager to read it out to them. He did so with a creepy voice, unlike the one he’d used on the day he found their teacher.

Listening to him made Scar feel like he was drenched in cold water. It didn’t help that another lightning strike went over the school not a second after he finished. This was turning out to be a really, really bad idea. Suddenly the bell made a horrible screeching noise, and everyone began freaking out as if they’d just lit up all the candles in a summoning circle.

Scar kept worriedly looking outside, and Sam moved back into the seat he always sat at the window seat. As he was reminiscing and Scar tried to calm himself, they both saw something horrible. “Wait, wait! Is that Gareth?! I swear I just saw Gareth!” Sam shrieked, looking outside further for their ghostly teacher. “I saw it too! I saw it, too!” Scar shouted, jumping back from the window as he hyperventilated a little.

Sam moved towards the room's opening and looked out to the hallway, looking for the ghostly teacher. “C’mon Sam, stop messing with us! He’s not real! Same goes for you too, Scar,” he scolded, trying to deny what was happening. “I wasn’t— I wasn’t lying!” Scar helplessly cried, glancing over at the window but unable to see their ghostly teacher. “Guys! I think there’s blood out here,” He shouted, looking down the corridor with a large amount of blood pooling around the floor.

Suddenly, Sam shouted louder, claiming that Gareth was coming towards them. Scar thought he was just about to faint; the tension was high, and he felt downright delirious from what seemed to be happening. As he began to get closer, everyone piled out of the room in a panic, and the Bell went off even louder than before.

Dizzy, Scar ran for the other side of the building as he heard Gareth’s voice. “Who… Who killed my wife…” He murmured, his voice echoing through the hallway. The male felt cold and ran after everyone else, keen to stay with them rather than stay behind with the teacher. People ran upstairs, and Sam tried to shake off the blood he’d gotten on his boots.

An idea suddenly struck the other, although it didn’t sound good. “Quick, guys! Let’s hide! Find hiding spots!” He murmured, trying to keep his voice low from the ghost slowly approaching them. Taurtis angrily looked over to his friend, panicked and scared. “There are no hiding spots!” he whisper-hissed to Sam, whom Scar couldn’t help agree with.

“Oh, this is a bad, bad situation!” Scar whispered to himself as he ran down the hallway, shutting off his flashlight and trying to find a good hiding spot. Everyone quickly hid in their own ways, with only a few people hiding properly. Somehow, though, Gareth didn’t try looking for them properly and went further upstairs.

They all quickly went out of the classroom shortly after. “Guys, we need to leave,” Sam said, glancing up at the stairs he’d seen Gareth go up. Then, as a stroke of genius, Sam turned to Taurtis and Scar with a grin. “I dare you both to go upstairs,” he said, pointing at them both. Taurtis whined at the dare whilst Scar completely ignored the other. Now was definitely not the time for anything like that.

Eventually, everyone decided to go up there, including Dom, who ran up without trouble. Scar called after them and Salex, but they both followed anyway. Gareth was on the roof of the school, on the edge. It would’ve been dangerous if he was not already a ghost. They all stared for a long moment before Gareth started slowly turning towards them.

Sam shouted. “He looked at me! He’s looking at us!” He screamed as the bell faintly rang again. Suddenly, though, he began to walk towards them. Scar instantly turned around, screaming in panic as he ran down the stairs, not even thinking about how he could trip and fall them in his panic. Everyone followed after him fairly quickly, with them all keeping close together.

They all ran down the corridor and got to the other set of stairs at the school, running down the stairs with such panic that it was more than a little dangerous. None of them cared, though, electing that it was stupider to stay with a ghost of their teacher at the moment. Scar’s heart was faster than he’d felt in a long time, and he felt like he was about to pass out. Yet, his fight or flight was ingrained, not allowing him to rest until he was safe.

They finally sort of settled at the opening of the school, where they’d all gathered to ensure they were all there. “Where’s… Salex?” Sam asked, a little nervous at being unable to see her. Taurtis moved a little further back. “She’s here, Sam,” he said, glancing at his best friend. As they all began to leave, Dom stood still, making Scar turn back to him with a frown.

“I’m not going anywhere; I’m not losing this challenge,” he murmured, glaring at Sam. Scar had to admit that what Dom had said took more dedication than many might think, especially with how dangerous it was to stay in the school. Sam said this as well, but Invader, the one who’d been the reasoning behind the bet in the first place, admitted she’d already gotten a restraining order against Dom.

It didn’t seem to matter, though, with Dom ignoring this entirely. As everyone began to calm down and Scar began to feel a little drowsy from all the energy he’d used running, the bell began to screech again, making Sam and a few others run for it anyway. Scar followed after them, not caring for anything else at that time. He just wanted to go home. Lightning kept going around the area, scaring them all as they ran away, but no one seemed to care by then. Getting home was quite a bit more important.

By then, he said a quick goodbye to Sam and tried to leg it, but he was stopped in his tracks by the other grabbing onto his arm. He stopped to turn back to the other, who was looking at him with a deathly creepy expression.

“If you tell anyone… I’ll be looking for you, ‘kay?” He whispered, making Scar shiver as he watched Sam. He nodded numbly, not caring anymore; he just wanted away from the situation. Sam stared at him for a long moment before letting him go and running over to Taurtis, who was now arriving with Invader and Salex. Scar took one look at them before turning back and heading back to his house.

It was dark and cold, and his flashlight stopped working, leaving him scared as he finally found his way home. When he finally arrived home, he locked the door and took a shower, letting himself finally calm down from the night’s events. He didn’t care about whatever the school had for tomorrow; he was not coming. Scar dried himself up and got into bed, putting music on to try and drown out the rest of the lightning strikes.

Never again, never again.

Little did Scar know, this was only the beginning of the worst of his school year.

#writing #samgladiator yhs #gtwscar #samgladiator #taurtis #domrao #invader yhs #gareth yhs #suicide mentions #please be careful #ghost hunting #I left a sort of reference to phasmaphobia because of scar #i regret everything #i regret nothing

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housewifemd · 4 months

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hello! i have yet to see u make an incorrect take so im wondering what u think house does after wilson passes

also! u mentioned u havent seen dps and i (biased) think u absolutely should! idk ur taste in movies so i cant say whether or not you'd like it but i think you'd have interesting thoughts abt it either way :3 thx xo

Hiiii and thank you ilove posting about house.

um truly i think house about covers it with "i'm dead, wilson." i think that he has given up quite literally everything to be with wilson and has burned all of his bridges back to a life he could stand to live. he had no access to medicine as a practice, he has to live largely off of the grid. his options for crossing borders are severely limited and he could really only live in countries with no extradition to the US; he'd be forging documents for everything and i think he could honestly not be bothered to do the level of operation security his life after death would require. i think him and wilson both go pretty peacefully and within about an hour of eachother.

um having said all of that about operation security and house's metaphorical afterlife. if wilson somehow made it none of those things would stop him from sticking around with him, because wilson would voluntarily serve as a bridge to the outside world. Ill make a separate post about this we (my wifde... and i ...) have .. a thing...

i am kkwwite sure i would like DPS and i have been putting off watching it because i know it will impact me emotionally in a way i am not prepared for. but i will get there someday and im sure ill be posting about it. As if i have any fucking say in the matter

#suicide mentions

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jaws-and-canines · 1 year

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Sign Your Name Away

A Verschlimmbessern story. Contains mentions of death, suicide, chronic pain and past violence.

---

Fennec feels like death. He thinks, perhaps, it has been several days- or only hours, and he would never know which. There are no windows, and the entire building seems to be made from temporary materials, to be disassembled or removed at short notice. There’s a lot of thoroughfare, but the curtains around his bed are drawn, and he knows he can’t stand up to open them even if he wanted to. So he sits, eyes shut, glasses hooked over the lapel of the rough linen nightshirt he has on beneath the covers. Imagining the owners of the footsteps that walk past.

But, God, he thinks, it hurts. He puts his head in his hands and leans back into the pillows, trying not to burst into tears. The sheer gravity of the pain that seems to radiate from his knee, all the way to the very core of his being, the burning heat, the way the stitches can be felt tugging and pulling at his skin all stack up. Fennec thinks he might snap, he might lose his mind should he be left in this state. The little voice in the back of his head points out that the damage is permanent. The damage is permanent and the pain most likely is as well. He can only hope he’ll be able to walk again, but he doesn’t dare hope much.

The curtains squeak as a man steps in, and throws them shut behind him. Black shirt, built like a house, short hair and a previously broken nose, the bent angle which seems to dominate his heavyset face. “Anton Fennec, is it not?” says the man. Fennec is at first surprised that the man speaks German without a particularly bad accent, as many of the others do- but then the coldness of the realisation washes over him. Not many positions in the armed forces would call for a bilingual person to that degree- radio operator, perhaps, translator, perhaps- but someone like that, working alone? No, thinks Fennec, wallowing in his realisation that the man is an interrogator.

If he wasn’t miserable to begin with, the realisation alone would kill any good mood in him.

He sighs. “Yes, but I wish it were not.” He fumbles to put his glasses back on, and then fixes the interrogator with a clouded gaze. “What are you here for?”

“I want to have a conversation with you.”

“Hm.” Fennec crosses his arms and shrugs, a gesture of ‘go ahead’. Conversation, anyhow, is better than what the previous string of interrogators did to him, even as he was begging and pleading and telling them everything he knew. He doesn’t mind conversation.

The man sits down on the chair beside Fennec’s bed. “If it’s any consolation, the war is well and truly over for you,” he says. “But I don’t think it will be much consolation given your…” The interrogator gestures broadly.

“My position,” finishes Fennec. The man’s eyes are not on his leg, not the surgical drain dripping bloodied amber fluid into a clear bag at the foot of the bed, nor on the crutches leant up by the side of the bed. They are on his face. The man’s sympathies are not for his injury, Fennec knows. They’re for his crimes and for how he’ll have to pay for them. In the traditional manner of the State, probably through a bullet to the skull at the bitter crack of dawn. “My position, which is precarious. I know well that it is.”

The man exhales through his nose, nodding slowly. “The War Crimes Commission has been assembled. The trial is due to start on Wednesday, which means that you will be expected to attend the preliminary hearing, and expected to co-operate with the ensuing investigation.”

Fennec groans, putting a hand over his face. He knew it was coming, but hoped it wouldn’t be so immediate.

“Does that surprise you?” The interrogator leans in. “Were you expecting to just be allowed to walk free, Anton?”

Fennec laughs awkwardly, and raises an eyebrow. He stares at the interrogator for a moment, trying to put together a sentence that won’t overtly provoke the man. “No. I was shot in the knee and then dragged several miles in handcuffs. That’s not a friendly introduction and it has not been friendly since. I was not under the impression I was not going to be tried.”

The statement is not hyperbole, although he had been barely conscious, shivering and bleeding profusely on the stretcher for the majority of the time, they handcuffed him all the same, and the points where the stretcher could not fit, or became inconvenient, they simply dragged him. Fennec licks his lips, shrugs, and sighs. “Though I was hoping for… more time.” He just shrugs again, open-handed, and pushes his glasses up his nose. “I… do not know. I tried my best, I tried my damn best, and that is all a man can do.”

“We know,” says the interrogator. “We know you tried to do what was right.”

“Oh, like fuck you did,” snaps Fennec, then shakes his head, a little taken aback by his own short-temperdness, something quite unlike him. “Pardon me,” he apologises.

The interrogator just carries on calmly. “I trust that you’ll do the right thing and co-operate with the investigation.”

Fennec sees right through the simple plea to his morals. It’s not particularly hard to do, he thinks. “And yet…” Fennec looks between the interrogator and the crutches he has not yet found enough energy to even try to use. “You people still shot me. And then, inexplicably, even after I told you everything I had to say, you tortured me. If that is how you treat people who try to do right, I would hate to see how you treat those who do wrong.”

The calmly spoken sentence hangs in the air for a few moments, the interrogator visibly chewing it over in his mind. Eventually, he speaks again. “If you don’t want to hear what I have to offer then I can just leave, Anton, I don’t need to be here.”

He sighs, waving a hand at the interrogator. “No, no, I will listen,” he says, almost exasperated.

“The punishment for a violation of the laws of war by a belligerent party, generally, is death. I’m sure you know that,” he says. “But someone in your position has one option available to him.” The interrogator puts the two pieces of paper on the bed, gesturing to them with an open palm. “Here is an agreement to testify for the prosecution. Here is an agreement from us that is contingent on the first, for you to countersign, that we will allow you to formally defect.”

Fennec looks at the pieces of paper, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He sniffs, wiping his nose on the back of his hand. He feels the familiar shakiness of anxiety creep back in. “What will this do?”

“You will lose your German citizenship. You will be issued a State identity number, passport and National Insurance number and you will be tried as a State National- not a belligerent party. This means the death penalty can be taken off the table if you are found guilty with anything less than high culpability, which it seems like you will be.” He pauses, fingers still brushing against the two forms. “I might add, if you sign this, you will be held as a State National- that is, away from your peers, which is probably for the best.”

“Mmm,” muses Fennec by way of agreement. An understatement.

“How is the…” the interrogator trails off, gesturing to his neck.

Fennec tugs down his shirt collar, revealing the bruised ghost of a handprint there, two hands pressed to his neck. “Johan has always been very strong,” he says.

Fennec doesn’t like to work from conjecture, but the pieces all fall together- as the rumour went, Johan, Captain Rasch, always a little neurotic, had cut his own throat rather than face capture by the State soldiers, and had failed to die. The fact that he remained alive, thinks Fennec, is a very good thing. Not so much of a good thing was him suddenly appearing at the foot end of Fennec’s bed in the early hours of the morning, wearing only a green hospital gown and dripping with sweat, and going straight for Fennec’s throat with a grip only frenzy can pull from a man.

“I am sorry about that,” says the interrogator. “The orderlies should have been with him.”

“It is no harm, so it is no foul,” Fennec says simply.

In truth, he was scared half-to-death. Startled from sleep, he had grabbed for the only thing in reach and beaten Johan over the head with his crutches, screaming for someone to help. The orderlies heard the commotion, and dragged Johan away from him, kicking and screaming.

The only thing Fennec could think to say to Johan, at that moment, was that he was sorry for what he’d done to him- to all of them. He was hoarse for days- and yet he felt he was the one who needed to apologise.

He wipes his nose on his hand, pushes his glasses back up his nose, and goes back to the issue at hand.

Fennec looks at the papers, and realises, in the most tangible sense, that he is signing his life away. He is signing his wife and his daughter away. But it is this, he knows, or it is resigning himself to death. He doesn’t really feel like the choice is a choice at all. An utter non-choice, it is, with the hole that somehow he has managed to dig himself into.

“I want to keep my name,” he says. It’s a weak attempt at staking his claim over his own life.

It falls totally flat. “Then you can. Are you going to sign it or not?”

Fennec tries to stall again. “It could not wait, could it? You want it done,” says Fennec, looking at the man over the frame of his glasses.

“It needs to be done before the preliminary hearing.” The interrogator seems to have no concept of just how monumental the forms are, just how destructive. He’s handed Fennec what is essentially a loaded gun, and is asking if he can be done with it as quickly as possible.

Fennec pushes his glasses up his nose. No, if he goes home now, he ruins not only himself, but Alais and Rosalie as well, and he refuses to drag his whole family down with himself. They can live comfortably off his pension, claimed whilst he is presumed dead. A war criminal gets no pension- and most likely, gets tried in the Hague.

There’s no going home for him now, he realises.

“Give them to me,” he says, and gestures for the interrogator to put them on his table. “Pen,” he says, tapping the table again. “I need a pen.”

The interrogator presses the biro into his hand. Fennec scrawls his signature, with the tremor of hidden pain distorting the letters ever so slightly.

#count the days #Verschlimmbessern #suicide mentions #brief but still #whump #whump writing #original writing

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