#and I will think all this and continue to act as selfish and cowardly as I have always acted. I will continue to be paralyzed by inaction

[spocks-kaathyra]

really nothing more detestable than a coward

[tvseries-writings]

TW: suicide attempt

Me again, about Carina and Maya. So...I've been thinking and had an idea.

How about one, where the two come back home from a hard day and just want to cuddle with R and watch some movies etc., but they can't find R anywhere. One of them enters the bedroom and sees a letter, which turns out to be a suicide note, which, obviously, scares them a lot.

So they (frantically) continue looking for R and notice that the bathroom door is closed, so they get a spear key to open it (or just kick it open lol) and see R in the bathtub, wrists c*t open and the water having turned red.

The rest is up to you (but make r survive plssss).

If that's a too much, or too graphic, I can try to come up with another idea.

Endgame

The water is turning red and the pain is slowly fading as the cold makes you shiver. 

You look up at the ceiling, releasing the smoke in small circles that expand into the bathroom.

Maya and Carina hate it when you smoke inside the house but you think it won't be a problem this time; the deep cuts on your wrists are proof of that. 

You know you should feel guilty about what you're doing, about how it will affect them...but you don't, you feel free at last; the weight on your chest that has been plaguing you for months is gone, flown away as soon as you put the blade on your wrist with the intention of not stopping. No one stays sane for long under conditions of absolute reality, and that is exactly what happened to you. Maya and Carina's love was not enough and not because of them. You didn't want to be helped; it has to be this way and you know it, just like all the lousy foster families who for fifteen years of your life told you so, over and over again until you turned eighteen and joined the Army and later the Seattle Police Department. You've seen so much horror that you're not sure you want to stay in this world and you did what had to be done. That was it.

Suicide is said to be an impulsive choice, as irrational as murder is but it is not, the carefully folded letter on the bed that you, Maya and Carina share is proof of that. No act is ever completely impulsive, there is always premeditation behind it. And yours lasted more than four months; four months of false smiles and emotionless eyes.

But now nothing matters anymore, nothing, because you are finally about to leave this shitty world but also the loves of your life. It is not true that you do not feel guilty but you are sure that they will be fine without you, they will go on as they always have and they will not have your weight on their shoulders, not anymore. That is all that matters, the only thing that matters to you. Finally, for the first time in your whole life, you will do something useful and get out of their way. They will feel bad at first but then they will live a much more peaceful and happy life, you are absolutely convinced of that. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself to get the courage to go ahead in what you're doing.

On the news, on TV, in the movies people say that suicide is an extremely selfish and cowardly act but you don't think it is, there is a deep and primal courage in doing such an extreme act; not everyone is capable of it and not because they don't want to but because they don't have the courage necessary to cross the line and not look back. It is difficult, of course, but it is worth it. At least for you.

You are so weak that you can no longer hold the cigarette, which falls into the water and goes out with a sizzle. A sigh leaves your lips as you rest your head on the edge of the tub, beginning to sink into the now warm water. When you close your eyes, your last thought goes to Maya and Carina and their smile.

  ........................................................................................................................

"I'm tireeed."

Carina sighs, nibbling her neck with her right hand and holding Maya's hand with her left. The young firefighter picked her up as soon as she finished her shift and now they are on their way home. Both of them are very tired and the only thing they want is to lie down in your bed and cuddle with you want to choose a good movie for all three of them to watch together. "Today we had to fight with an old lady who didn't want us to use her balcony to save a boy who was going to jump and only because according to her he was an immigrant."

Maya rolled her eyes, shaking her head and huffing in exasperation. As a captain, she certainly couldn't rail against an old woman, but that afternoon, the urge had really been there.

"Sometimes I wonder why people talk without thinking, really, I had to drag Vic away from the woman before he ripped her hair out, rightly so. Luckily we saved the boy but I swear sometimes I really don't understand why I keep doing this job."

Carina smiled, leaning in to kiss his wife as the latter slipped the keys out and opened the door before stopping to return the kiss. "Because you love your job even if people are horrible, just like me and y/n do, Bella ”

Maya smiles and nods, stroking Carina's face and lingering on the hazel eyes she loves so much. "You're right Car and about our girl...have you noticed that she's been a little distant lately?"

Carina nods, getting out of the car together with the blonde and walking, hand in hand, to the building where your apartment is located.

"She's distant, I tried to ask her what was wrong but she said she was fine...I'm getting worried though, it's not like her, it's been more than four months since she's been herself, I feel like I don't see that light in her eyes anymore that she had when we first met."

Maya sighs, pressing the button for the second floor and waiting for Carina to enter the elevator as well before closing the doors. "I had the same feeling, I think we should talk to her today, maybe after dinner...what do you think?" "I think it's a good idea Bella."

The two women smile at each other and then Maya inserts the keys inside the lock and enters your apartment. The hallway lights are off, as is everyone in the house except for the one in the living room and bathroom.

"Y/n, love, we're home!"

Maya shouts, placing her keys on the cabinet at the entrance and slipping off her coat and shoes before looking for you in your bedroom.

Carina does the same, only much slower than the blonde and then sits on the couch, opening the home delivery app to choose what you will eat tonight.

It is Maya who finds the letter. She has just slipped into a sweatshirt and sweatpants when her gaze falls back to the nightstand to the left of the bed and the white, almost snow-white sheet of paper with the words "To my loves" written in your handwriting.

A terrible feeling grips her stomach. The blonde snaps forward, grabbing the letter and opening it to read the words written on it. She only needs to read the first sentence to run into the living room to Carina. 

"Maya you need to calm down, what's going on Bella?"

Carina is startled to see the blonde so agitated and then, when she sees the letter in her hands, she snatches it from her and begins to read its contents. Carina, unlike her wife, gets to the third line before she completely panics. "No no no, she couldn't have done that, she wouldn't do that...she loves us Maya, she wouldn't do that to us not."

Maya shakes her head frantically, picking up the phone and dialing your number with trembling fingers. And then, when the sound of your phone ringing echoes in your bathroom, your soulmates have no doubt that you have performed the ultimate act.

Maya screams at Carina to call an ambulance as she bursts through the door after only two shoves. The horrendous spectacle before her makes her want to vomit but she braces herself and pulls you out of the tub by resting you on the floor. She checks your pulse and when she feels nothing, her heart seems to stop.

"Carina, come here!"

Maya begins compressions; she tries to hold back tears but fails to do so. When your wife enters the bathroom, still on the phone with 911 operators, her knees give way and she falls to her knees next to your lifeless body.

“S-She has no pulse, she cut both her wrists, she should have lost more than four liters of blood from the amount I can see...How fucking fast can you get here? Fucking fuck, Bambina please don't do this to us, please."

The ambulance will arrive in five minutes, and both Maya and Carina are not sure if they can continue compressions for that long.

On the fourth round of compressions, they don't know by what miracle, your chest rises and falls. Painfully slowly but it does and your girls breathe a sigh of relief when it happens. "It's okay love, we're here, don't you dare leave us okay? Don't you dare do it y/n."

Carina bursts into tears, lowering herself onto your forehead and leaving a kiss in your wet hair. Both are pressing towels on your wrists and the Italian is carefully monitoring your pulse as Vic, Andy and Warren enter the bathroom with the stretcher and first aid kit. When they see it's you, they are breathless for a few seconds before they get to work.

"Girls, we got her. Now you have to get out though, you know, let's go." Warren, despite their protests, escorts them into the living room and sits them on the couch before returning to the bathroom to give Vic and Andy a hand.

The doctor and the fireman remain silent for more than three minutes, both letting tears line their faces, before speaking.

"I can't believe she did that."

Maya whispers, squeezing Carina's hand and seeking, in that grip, a support, a consolation, that the Italian could not offer her. "I can't believe we didn't notice how sick she was Maya, we should have done something, we-“

Their talk is interrupted by the sound of the stretcher being dragged out of the bathroom. They both stand up and come toward you; you have an oxygen mask on your face and bandages wrapped around your wrists but your skin is still extremely pale. More so than your usual.

"We're taking her to Grey's Sloan, she's stable for now but she's lost a lot of blood and needs a transfusion and then she'll have to stay in observation...well, you know. You can ride in the ambulance with us if you want."

Maya and Carina cast a glance at each other, knowing that when you wake up you will be absolutely and fortuitously angry with them for allowing them to keep you in the hospital for three whole days but they know they have no choice.

      ....................................................................................................................

Eight endless hours pass before you wake up; the realization of your failed attempt hits you even before you open your eyes, and the heart rate monitor alerts your girls even before you can. 

The blinding whiteness of the hospital room and the smell of disinfectant hit you so hard that for a moment you close your eyes, as if to childishly make disappear what is around us and what you have tried to do. But, of course, it doesn't work, and when you open them again, the worried and tired faces of your girls are just above your face. For the first time in the six years you've been together, you can't decipher their expressions.

"You scared us y/n, really a lot." 

Maya's voice trembles thinking back to how she found you a few hours ago. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find me like this, not-"

Carina gives a nervous laugh before speaking (or rather, screaming), "better this way than dead y/n How could you think our world would be better without you? We love you, you are a part of our hearts, of our lives..without you we couldn't even breathe how can you not understand that!"

Carina screams, tears streaming down her cheeks and the only thing you want to do is to hold her in a hug and wipe away those salty water drops staining her face but you can't, you are afraid she will reject you and you know she would have every reason to do so.

"I didn't want you to find me alive, I'm sorry because once again I couldn't get one thing done right. I'm sorry because I'm still alive, that's why I'm sorry."

You whisper, shaking your head and holding back tears. You are so tired of living and right now, you really have nothing left to lose.

The two of them remain silent, shocked by what you said but also deeply hurt by Ilf noting that this is what you think of yourself. "Oh y/n, we love you and it hurts us to hear you say these things about yourself so yes, even though it goes against your wishes, we are grateful that we were able to bring you back and in time you will be too, we will help you love."

Maya sits on the bed next to you and caresses your face with such gentleness and with such love in her eyes that your heart cries a little for making them suffer.

Carina comes close and pulls you into a hug, so tight it hurts but you don't have the heart to tell her so you enjoy that squeeze, appreciating the pain of still being there with them.

"Bambina, I know you have it thinking that we would be better off without you but we are not, it will never be that way my love but I need you to know that I am very angry with you but nevertheless I love you and I will want to be by your side every second of your healing journey-"

"We both will be."

Maya nods, leaving a kiss in your hair and stroking your back.

You sigh, hiding your face in the hollow of the Italian's neck. "I love you, I love you so much but I am tired of fighting..I am losing miserably."

Carina shakes her head cn firmly, forcing you to look up and into her eyes.

"Then it means we'll fight for you, you just have to stay with us a little longer until you're better Bella but you won't be alone, not anymore.Non lasceremo che tu affronti tutto questo da sola (We don’t let you face this alone).”

"We love you y/n, you are not alone."

Maya whispers, leaving a kiss on your lips and then doing the same with Carina and then, both of them hold you in an embrace in that little hospital bed and, even though the weight on your chest is back and that feeling of freedom is gone, maybe you really are not alone and for them you could stay a little longer, just a little, for them. For their love and for the love you feel for them.

Thanks for Reading! Here is my ko-fi link and have a Great day!

Taglist: @chaekhan @station19 @resilientpendragon @so-no-kissing-then @thearchpitbullmx @ashadash0904 @kingshitonly @alwaysgoodnight @callistic @xjule @yuleni18 @simpforwandanat  @alexxislexi @mrsdanversromanoff @coollemonsaresour @hushed-woodsman @razorscooteer @eponine-xx@maniacallinc @michelle170 @classyig @elenaguarnieri@scarletwidow @tati3001 @cristin-rjd @your-my-mission @mr-nicely @hi-i-1  @anniethurs @ktstwice @scarlet-raccoon @maria-403

[haespoir]

never not: ldh.

⨯ pairing: ex!haechan x reader

⨯ word count: 2.7k 

⨯ summary: you broke up with haechan for your own selfish reasons. it's been nearly two years. surely he's moved on, right?

⨯ warnings: alcohol, ex/enemies to lovers maybe? open ending? angst!!

⨯ playlist: never not, lauv / phases, prettymuch / 2soon, keshi  

⨯ extra content: part two

⨯ a/n: ty @m-arkmywords for giving me this idea and dealing with my incurable haechan brainrot these past few days <3333 feedback is always greatly appreciated 🩵

. . .

You stare at the mirror in your room blankly. It’s mocking you. Whatever you were planning to do is a bad idea. And maybe it was, but it had been months since you had gone out to a party thrown by your friends. Mainly because they were also his friends, and while they assured you that you were always welcome, you knew that Haechan did not share those same sentiments. His voice from the numerous voicemails he left you echo in your mind. 

“Are you serious? You said that you’d love me forever; you think it’s that easy to let you go?” 

“Are you seriously just giving up on us like this? I gave you everything. Every last piece of me.” 

“I know it’s over, yet I don’t want to let you go. You’re my gravity. I’m always drawn to you.” 

“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Don’t come crawling back to me.”

 

You had chalked it down to young love; the two of you had spent the last few years of high school together, and that continued when you went to college. But something snapped your 2nd  year and you couldn’t do it anymore. It was scary, growing up and settling down. Too scary. So even if it was a cowardly move, you left him. Of course, Haechan didn’t take it easily. You didn’t expect him to. 

It’s not like it was easy for you either. Up until that year, your life revolved around Haechan. In a way that wasn’t healthy. You had spent every waking moment thinking of him. He would get over it; that’s just the type of person he was. He never dwelled on anything for too long, and he never let it get him down. 

Unfortunately, you were terribly wrong; Haechan never got over it. Maybe on the outside, but if he was anything, he was a spiteful and prideful person. So he kept a lot of pent-up anger in that little body of his. The first time you had seen him after the breakup was terribly awkward, you didn’t know what to say or how to act. And Haechan was well… pissed. Rightfully so, but you had sworn to avoid any function that he would be at after that. 

And you had done a good job of that for the past few months. You had made new friends that weren’t his; you went to parties that he wasn’t at. You lived your life separately from his, and if you had to be honest, this was what you needed. Even if you loved Haechan with every last fiber of your being, you needed time and space from him to become your own person. 

Every time you had brought this idea up to him, it ended up in a fight. You don’t know who would start yelling first, who would take the chance to send a low blow. All you knew is that you would end up in tears, and the two of you would be too upset for any conversation after that. 

So now, almost two years after your breakup, you think it’s okay to finally attend a party you knew he would be at. You had given him enough time, and Jisung himself had personally requested that you be there. In fact, the text that he had sent you made you miss the younger male so much. He had always been such a sweetheart. 

jisung [3:20 pm]: please come to the party tonight jisung [3:20 pm]: just bc haechan got custody after the divorce doesn’t mean you can just never hang out with us  jisung [3:21 pm]: we aaaaaaaall miss you  jisung [3:21 pm]: (haechan included) 

But maybe you shouldn’t have trusted the male so wholeheartedly because the second you get to the party, you’re overwhelmed by the way Haechan doesn’t let you out of his sight once he’s spotted you. And you can tell he’s pissed. He ignores his friends, and his tongue is permanently pressed to his cheek. 

However, you can’t deny that he looks good. His hair is longer than you remember it being; it’s swept back to frame his face, and it gives you a full view of how his eyebrows are scrunched together. You assume it’s in anger, and you’re correct. Because pissed is an understatement for how Haechan’s feeling. 

He couldn’t believe that you had the nerve, the audacity, to show up to a party that you knew he would be at. You had done a wonderful job of pretending he didn’t exist for two years, so why the hell did you choose to show your face tonight? 

Seeing you woke up something in him that he believed died in him long ago. It was like the flip switched. Now don’t get it twisted, Haechan had not fooled himself like you had. He knew that he was never getting over you. Not when he had dedicated most of his adolescent years to loving you. You were all he knew. 

Even now, seeing you after months of getting his heart broken, he’s not even sure if he’s truly angry. Hurt? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. But these were all emotions that he didn’t want to explore, not today. So anger welcomes him with open arms, and he happily falls into it. Even so, he doesn’t think he could ever truly hate you. 

If anything, he hated how much he wanted to kiss you. 

So without warning, he’s walking across the room towards you. His jaw is clenched, and there’s a dent in the red solo cup he’s holding. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do or say, but he just knows that some part of him needs to be near you. 

“Why are you here?” His question is direct, and his clipped tone hits you straight in the heart. You have no right to be hurt, you know this. That doesn’t mean you don’t want to cry when his anger is directed towards you. But you would rather die than let him know he had any effect on you. After all, you were just as stubborn and prideful as him.  

“I was invited here by our friends,” you bite back, doing your best to seem just as pissed off as he was and making sure to emphasize the fact that they boys were your friends as well. “You don’t own this house, and you surely can’t police me on where I can and can’t go.” 

He hates that you’re right. His friends, while they were his friends first, had you known you just as long as he did. Perhaps he was blinded by his heartbreak to not realize that his friends also felt deprived of your presence as well. 

But that wasn’t his fault. You were the one who broke it off. 

“Cut the bullshit,” he says, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes. You had come to this party to start trouble with him. He was sure of it. “You made sure to avoid everywhere I go like it was the plague for almost 2 years. You can’t expect me to believe that shit now.” 

Unlike him, you don’t fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “We’re not doing this here,” you state blandly, grabbing the drink from his hands and toasting him. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.” As quickly as he approached you, you disappeared from his sight. He watches as you walk into the arms of some random person, and he feels his anger skyrocket. God, you were actually infuriating. Even more so because he found that attitude of yours to be so attractive. 

He decides to give you this one moment; you could think that you won this argument, but he would be back when he had more alcohol in his system. There was no way he wanted to argue with you sober; he would definitely crumble. As cruel as it was, he wanted to hurt you just like you had hurt him. 

. . .

You know it’s not the last of Haechan, not when you provoked him by stealing his drink. Which was disgusting by the way. It would be more convenient to walk around with an entire bottle of liquor than to nurse whatever that concoction was. (If you must know, it was mostly vodka. There was about less than 2% of juice in the cup. He had planned on getting hammered.) 

The red solo cup is quickly ditched on a random table, and you find yourself wandering around for a while. It felt odd to be in the presence of your old friends. It’s even more odd when you find yourself in the arms of Na Jaemin himself. The male has a cheeky grin on his lips, shit-eating if you will. He had stolen you away from the party, deciding that the quietness of the backyard was the perfect place for the two of you to catch up. Or attempt to.  

“You guys set us up,” you accuse, poking a manicured finger on his chest. He can only laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. He had missed you and your attitude. 

“Innocent until proven guilty,” he says, enjoying the way you almost melt in his arms. It had been so long since he had hugged you. When you had broken up with Haechan, Jaemin was the most distraught, as he was arguably closer to you than him. But Jeno had guilted him into ignoring you with something along the lines of ‘bro code,’ and he hadn’t made much of an attempt to ever hang out. You couldn’t blame him; you were a coward too.  

“Not funny, Jaem,” you pout, leaning your head on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you back and forth to the muffled music. “You guys didn’t even warn him about me coming. That’s cruel.” 

“No, what's cruel is listening to my friend cry over you for almost two years.” Well, he didn’t have to say it like that. “It’s ridiculous. Just talk to him, I swear he is not as immature as he was before.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” your words are muffled against his shoulder. With his arms wrapped around you like, it felt like everything would be okay. 

“Just trust me,” Jaemin says, pulling away from you. This only results in you whining, chasing the warmth of his body. “I’ll go get us new drinks.” 

You can only pout as the man detaches himself from you and disappears into the house. Now you’re left on the bench alone, left to deal with your thoughts. Has Haechan really spent the past two years talking about you? As much as you don’t want to believe this, you know that it was most likely true. Haechan was obsessive and stubborn. He most definitely was hung up on you. 

God, you were so stupid to think that he would ever be able to get over you, not to sound conceited. For the longest time, he was all you knew. He knew everything about you; he was there for every cry and laugh. Of course, he couldn't just let you go. 

And you couldn’t let him go, no matter how much you lied to yourself. 

You had tried going on other dates and seeing other people. But it was difficult. No one understood you like Haechan did. He was irreplaceable. 

“So this is where you went.” Why? Why did he choose now to come back? “What? Breaking my heart wasn’t enough? Had to break Jaemin’s too?” 

You can only groan at his words; these boys would not give up until you talked it seemed. What a disaster tonight had turned out to be. “Can we not?” 

“Well, when can we? Huh?” Haechan is visibly upset. His hair isn’t as neat as it was when you had run into him earlier; you knew that he had spent an astonishing amount of time running his finger through his hair for it to get that messy. He is also much more drunk, you note. You can smell the alcohol on him as he slides onto the bench next to you. “I think right now is the perfect time.” 

“You’re drunk.” It’s a simple fact, but it seems that Haechan is unaware of his own state.

“It doesn’t matter.” He’s whining now. Another sign that he was undeniably drunk. He was smothering and affectionate when drunk. It was impossible to deal with him. And he only proves this when his head falls onto your shoulder, his hands quickly seeking out your own in a death grip. He’s got you trapped now. 

“Even when we’re broken up my life seems to always revolve around you still,” you mumble, so unbelievably annoyed that the boys had pushed you right into Haechan’s arms. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams, and apparently, fate seemed hellbent on making you suffer. 

“Still?” It’s like something clicks in him, and he’s suddenly sobering up quickly. This was why he was dumped? Because you loved him too much? “What do you mean by that?” 

“Nothing.” You want to disappear. You try to pull your hand away, but his grip only tightens. There was no way he was letting you slip away now. 

It’s so annoying to Haechan, the way that you’re here physically, but mentally, you’re so far away. You’re avoiding his eyes, and it bothers him so much more than he’d like to admit. His hands are gone from your own and quickly placed on your face; the way he turns your face towards him is rougher than he intends. But he just needs to see you. 

“Stop pushing me away.” It’s a demand, not a plea. “I know you don’t mean it.” 

“You don’t know me anymore,” you say, doing your best to mean it. Even if you wanted to erase him from your life, Haechan would be the one who knew you the best. Like you were the back of his hand. “So just let me go, please?” 

“Why?” He’s getting angry again, you can tell in the way he squeezes your jaw. “You want to go back to your boy toy Jaemin?” 

“You’re being ridiculous. You’re going to regret this when you sober up.” You regret this, and you weren’t nearly as intoxicated as him. 

“The only thing that’s ridiculous is you thinking you could replace me,” he says, using his grip to pull you closer to him. As much as you try to pull away, Haechan doesn’t let you go. Therefore you’re stuck in this position, a pout forming on your lips. He was too close for comfort. Without warning, he’s diving in and biting at your earlobe. “Does Jaemin know how sensitive your ears are?” 

You’re flinching away from his hold, feeling overwhelmed by Haechan being in your personal space. You couldn’t escape him. “Nothing can replace you,” you say quietly, feeling pathetically small in his hold. How could you cave in so quickly?

This is why you had avoided him like your life depended on it for the past two years. Not even 24 hours within his presence, and you were like putty in his hands. He knew exactly what to say and do to make you crumble. After all, no one knew you like Haechan did. 

That’s why you find yourself nodding mindlessly to his words, returning the small touches and kisses. You don’t even stop yourself when he pulls you onto his lap, marking up your neck, his hand gripping your thigh. Even though Haechan knows deep down that this isn’t right, he does know that you were destined to be his, and he would stop at nothing to make you his again.

Maybe that’s why you wake up in his bed the next morning, feeling absolutely horrible. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck. It was like the past two years of avoiding him meant nothing. And it probably did, even if you want to deny it. 

You had grown, sure, but you could have grown with Haechan. But it was so scary. Being in love was terrifying. And facing your ex of two years after sleeping with him was just as scary. 

So you do what you do best. 

You run away. 

[lansplaining]

Protagonist-centric readers will do anything but admit that their MCs did lie and impact other characters' decisions. It's not the side-characters fault that they did not know the whole truth because *drum roll* they weren't told anything and/or was deliberately lied to.

LQQ being hated bc he impaled XL in a coffin for a long time but like... XL admitted to killing the King of Yong'an and committing the bloody massacre so what was LQQ supposed to do? Sit down and ask his Guoshi for the truth when we know damn well XL will just continue to admit to it? XL didn't want to tell LQQ the truth to protect LQQ and the two groups of people, and that's completely admirable, but what LQQ saw was his Guoshi stabbing a sword through his father's chest and admitting to everything so him reacting the way he did was completely valid. The single act of killing the king was treason 100x already, and as the son of the king, LQQ's reaction was not out of the ordinary. we don't want XL to suffer and be even more traumatized, but XL already knew that the consequences wouldn't be pretty and lied anyway. idk why fans can't grasp that.

Or for JC's case, HE IS LITERALLY THE ONE PERSON ALIVE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD WHO ACTUALLY DESERVES SOME KIND OF EXPLANATION FROM WWX HIMSELF, THE MAN WHO ACCIDENTALLY CAUSED WN TO KILL JXZ AND INDIRECTLY KILLED JYL DESPITE CLAIMING THAT HE HAD EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL. These two aren't strangers to JC at all; they're his sister and his brother-in-law, or more importantly, his sister's beloved husband and father of his nephew. He deserves to be angry and bitter at the one person who did all that, and there is no time limit for how long he should remain bitter and angry about it. The GCT was a whole mess and they both made HUGE sacrifices out of love but the only one whose sacrifice is made invalid is JC because one, it was short-lived and two, they already didn't like JC so no matter what he does for WWX, it will be seen as something negative.

I don't even want to get into the hell-hole regarding LXC but... damn...

the revelations after a character found out the truth should be "oh man, so that's what really happened" not "this character was a dick because they didn't know about the major sacrifice the MC made for them that would only be revealed many years later, and it's not even voluntary because someone else told the truth, not the MC themself"

I'm not the first nor am I the last person to say this but a protagonist is just a character we see, mainly, from their POV or the character that we follow the story through. That's all there is to it. I feel like a lot of danmei readers have yet to read a variety of stories about an MC that's completely shit but serves to tell a story just as important and interesting.

okay, first of all-- people hate LQQ?? The sweetest, most violent himbo of all????????????? even Xie Lian doesn't hate him for what he did??????

i have nothing to say to such people

i'll be honest, it is really only relatively recently that i've fully come to realise how completely Jiang Cheng deserves an explanation or even just acknowledgement of any kind from Wei Wuxian, and how cowardly and selfish it is that Wei Wuxian refuses to give it. and I say this with a heart full of love for WWX-- he is dealing with Some Trauma (tm) but that doesn't mean his refusal to even speak to JC isn't hurtful and unfair, even if it's what he needs... but man everyone in fandom and fanworks is focused on WWX taking what he needs in this situation and not even remotely considering that just maybe he also justifiably owes something to someone he harmed and who he supposedly (formerly?) cared about (i think he still cares)

the lan xichen thing is literally inexplicable to me and i will never understand it

[writing--whore]

The Art of Survival - Chapter One

Okay so I have written 5k of the Luis x Reader Hunger Games series (and I'm only like halfway/a quarter of the way through the plot that I have in mind) but before I go any further with the writing and editing, I wanna put the first 1k words to see if people actually like it. So here you go. Plz lmk what you think and if you want more :3

Pairing: Luis Serra x Reader

Summary: Luis is determined to survive the hunger games, which means he cannot allow himself to have a single weakness. And he had none. That was until he laid eyes on you.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: graphic depiction of violence (canon typical for Resident Evil 4 and also The Hunger Games). The violence is committed against you. Canon typical murder of children.

A/N: I re-watched the Hunger Games like a year ago and haven't seen it again since. I'm not going to follow the Hunger Games lore as if it were law. Because A) I don't want to and B) I can't remember it. Please don't come for me. Or do and I'll edit it.

Part One - Part Two

Throughout the whole ordeal - the training, the social events, the interviews - Luis kept his head down and didn’t speak a word to anyone. He didn’t want to think about his chances of getting out of here alive. And he certainly didn’t want to think about how he would have to murder all 23 other contestants if he wanted to live. He’d committed enough atrocities by creating la plagas. A part of him thought this was karma; he deserved to die after what he had done. And yet, when faced with the very real likelihood of death, he realised that he was much more selfish and cowardly than he’d originally thought. He realised that he wanted to live. 

He chose not to think about it. He didn’t want to face his ugly instinct to survive and what he would have to do if he wanted to return home. Which is why he didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone else. He didn’t want to humanise his opponents. 

But he had eyes and he had ears. No matter how much denied and ignored the situation, numerous pieces of information still infiltrated his brain. For instance, he noticed that Y/N was the weakest opponent. She was the smallest, she was the weakest and she didn’t even seem to possess one single skill that would be helpful in the arena. For as much as he tried to uproot it, a seed of sympathy had planted itself in his heart. None of this was fair. People like her should not be pitted against… well, people like him. 

He certainly wasn’t the strongest here but he was far from the weakest. He was decently tall, decently strong. He knew he had a great aim and that he was exceptionally bright. And after fighting the Los Illuminados, he thought he had a pretty good grasp on the act of survival. 

There was one final banquet where all the contestants dined together. He couldn’t handle it. Everyone was so fake, trying to make pleasant conversation when they knew a blood bath loomed on the horizon. He scoffed up his food and chose to take a walk instead. 

The cool air hit his face and he sighed with relief. The peace was short lived; his ears attuned to a nearby sound of crying. His feet trod silently along the gravel, following the sound until he spied the source. Someone was curled up behind a hedgerow, letting out helpless sobs. It was Y/N. 

His feet continued along the path. He buried the sympathy, he buried the shame. Those weren’t emotions he was capable of possessing anymore. 

So why then was he haunted by her face when he was trying to get to sleep that night? 

He recalled being forced to watch the footage of the other contestants getting reaped, and the way all of the colour drained from Y/N’s face when her name was called. He recalled seeing her taking great gulping breaths before the live interviews, each one shorter than the last like she was forgetting how to breathe. 

He groaned and wiped a hand across his face. She should not be here. She should not be fated to a certain and brutal execution. But more importantly, he should not be thinking about this. He had to focus on himself. It was the only way to win. 

That’s exactly what he did. As he stood in the arena, facing his contestants in a circle, he thought only of saving his own skin. This was it. The games were about to commence. His heart drilled against his chest. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, he had learnt to hone it, to sharpen his senses while forgoing any mindless panic. 

The contestants eyed each other up, trying to unnerve the other. Luis simply didn’t look. He focused on the cornucopia straight ahead. He knew he’d be able to run fast enough and he would be much better off if he could claim a weapon. 

So as the countdown hit zero, he legged it, shoulder barging others out of the way. A solid iron pipe caught his eye. It would keep his attackers at arms length and it would be skilled at wielding it. He snatched it and ran, holding it poised against his shoulder in a way that made others afraid to take their chances with him. 

He dived into the thick of the forest, picking a random direction and sprinting as fast as he could. No thoughts entered his mind besides the command to keep on running until he couldn’t run anymore. 

Laughter cut through the tree trunks a few feet ahead, followed by high pitched shrieks. His feet dug into the mud as he went to veer around the source of the noise. But through the leaves, he spotted Y/N. She was crawling through the leaves on her hands and knees but two kids from district 9 dragged her back into the clearing; two cats toying with their prey. 5 minutes into the games and these kids were already focused on sadism rather than survival. 

The district 9 boy easily flipped her onto her back and straddled her, ending her ability to struggle. His fist raised in the air and pounded her face. 

Adrenaline shot up Luis’ spine. He wasn’t even aware that he was emerging through the brush. Nor that his arms had sparked to life and were lifting the pipe over his head. It was an automatic, emotionless act, he told himself as he swung. 

A sickening crack echoed throughout the trees as the boy’s skull snapped open. Rivers of blood ran down the back of his head. 

The district 9 girl screamed - raw with grief - and took off running in the opposite direction. 

The boy fell to one side, half on top of Y/N. She propelled her legs, trying to scrabble away from the weight trapping her. Luis was reminded of a bunny caught in a fist.  

Horror flashed in her eyes when she caught him watching her. Blood had sprayed across his cheek, painting him as a killer. It gave her the fuel she needed; one more kick and she was free. She scurried away, kicking up fallen leaves and very nearly tripping over her own feet.

~~~

He dreamt of her that night. He dreamt that he was a ghostly spectator, floating around the clearing as the district 9 kids took it in turns to beat her. They didn’t let up. His heart tore itself to sheds to hear her cries as her face was marred with deep black bruises. There was nothing left of his heart when her cries turned to silent defeat. She wasn’t going to get out of this. And no one was coming to help her. 

Their punches didn’t let up even as her face turned into an unrecognisable pulp. 

“Stop!” He wanted to call out but had no voice.

He wanted to break their hands, claw out their eyes. But he could not act.

[vocalyrics]

Ghost Rule - Translyrics

idk if its just the ones ive seen but why does every ghost rule english cover have different lyrics but the same rhymes. like whats up with that

Going back is not an option,

Not after lying so many times.

A sin not even time can pardon,

Robbed of forgiveness for all of these crimes.

Today, too, things just get worse,

My charade slowly coming undone.

In depravity I was submersed,

Not realizing how rotten I'd become.

Come here, come closer, hey...

Stay...

“I've hidden it away.”

Mayday! If you still recognize me,

You don't have to hold me close like you did before.

Hey, mayday! If you do recognize me,

Won't you please let me see your smile, just once more?

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

I'm just a ghost, that's all I'll ever be,

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

A shell built of lies, always lost and empty, hey!

I'm sure “NO” is what I meant,

And yet, strangely, I had said “YES”

Tell yourself that you're innocent,

And you can fool even your own regrets.

If I'm cowardly or unfair,

I'll pray and pray to make it okay.

Just blabbing on without a care,

I was digging myself into a grave.

How long will this guilt stay?

It's gray...

Even if these tears are fake.

Mayday! Go ahead, declare your hate,

Since you think that it's such a sin to play pretend!

Hey, mayday! Bang the gavel, seal my fate,

I, who've chosen to act so spoiled 'til the end!

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

I'm just a ghost, dead and gone with no home,

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

A blank void, with nothing to call its own, hey...

Wishing for all the things that I never had,

I met “myself”, though in truth we were nothing alike.

Even so, I just continued on ahead,

Sinking deeper into a dark night.

Even though I lack so much, please still love me,

It was by selfish egotism that I was raised.

Tell me, have you finally managed to see

This lonely clown, my real face?

Mayday! If you still recognize me,

You don't have to hold me close like you did before.

Hey, mayday! If you do recognize me,

Won't you please let me see your smile, just once more?

Mayday! Go ahead, declare your hate,

Since you think that it's such a sin to play pretend!

Hey, mayday! Bang the gavel, seal my fate,

I, who've chosen to act so spoiled 'til the end!

Mayday! Since the world's about to end,

Expose who I really am, tear my lies apart!

Hey, mayday! Let's dance, come on, take my hand,

Have you realized “I” had been gone from the start?

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

I'm just a ghost, that's all I'll ever be,

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

A shell built of lies, always lost and empty.

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

I'm just a ghost, dead and gone with no home,

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh...

A blank void, with nothing to call its own.

Going back is not an option,

Not after lying so many times.

A sin not even time can pardon,

Robbed of forgiveness for all of these crimes.

[aeoki]

Phantom Airship - So I Raced Through The Sky: Chapter 9

Location: Ancient Ruins Characters: Ritsu, Hiiro, Aira & Tatsumi

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ< Ten minutes later. >

Mayoi: ………….

Ritsu: “Being immovable like a mountain, huh.”

“In actuality, you don’t intend on budging at all, do you? It’s not a bad idea to wait for your friends to arrive.”

“But even if they do come, someone has to put their life at risk in the end, you know?”

“You’ll leave the troublesome tasks to someone else and you’ll hide behind them – I think it’s questionable that you’d still call yourselves friends despite that.”

Mayoi: T-That’s not what I’m intending to do at all…

Uuu, but objectively speaking, it’s the same, huh. There hasn’t really been anything that I’ve ever done for “ALKALOID”.

As long as I wait patiently, they’ll come and save me. It’s no wonder why I’d end up with those selfish thoughts.

Ritsu: “...*Sighs* I didn’t think the hero candidate that appeared before me would have such low self-esteem.”

“You might be fine knowing the people around you accept that part of your personality, but you might get abandoned one day, you know?”

Mayoi: I–I’m aware of that.

But I can’t be positive in this situation and I don’t know what I should do…

Please tell me. How can I summon the courage to take on this trial?

Ritsu: “Dunno. That’s got nothing to do with me.”

“But let’s see. How about failing in a game world? Unlike reality, this place is more lenient even if you use your full strength.”

Mayoi: ? Ritsu-san, how do you know this is a game?

Ritsu: “Hehe. You said it yourself – you won’t die even if you fail in this game world.”

Mayoi: Uhh, I suppose that’s true…

Ritsu: “See? Try taking a step forward.”

“You can do something even without the help of your friends… If you can manage that, then you’ll be of equal standing to them, right?”

Mayoi: …I guess you’re right. If it’s a game world, then I, too, can…

Hiiro: Mayoi-senpai! Don’t rush things!

Mayoi: Hiiro-san…?

Aira: Ehehe, we finally found you! So you were in here all along ♪

Tatsumi: Our apologies for being late. You’re not alone now.

We’ll team up as “ALKALOID” and take on the “Monster’ Island’s” trial.

Mayoi: So you were all together… How did you find me here?

Hiiro: Right. Tsukasa-kun’s NPC told us at the village.

Aira: You can clear this island’s trial if you obtain the “legendary sword” in these ancient ruins, right? Then, let’s do it togethe–

Mayoi: P–Please don’t stop me.

Aira: Mayo-san?

Mayoi: I’ve finally realised that this is a trial aimed for me.

I’m a cowardly person… There’s something I’ve always kept secret from you all, so I must show my bravery here…

Tatsumi: Secret…? Hmm, were you hiding something from us, Mayoi-san?

You’re saying you’ll atone for that by taking on this trial on your own?

Mayoi: Yes. After “SS” ended, I received a job from Anzu-san.

She told me there will be auditions held for a “shuffle project”, so she’d like me to take part…

But I’m afraid of acting in front of others! To this day, I still haven’t given her my response!

Anzu-san was kind enough to select me, but at this rate, I’d just be putting her and the “P Association” to shame.

I didn’t know what I should do…

I don’t have any confidence in myself and I’m scared of acting. But if I decline the audition, then that very decision might affect “ALKALOID” as a whole.

I’ve been full of self-hatred and worry these past few days.

But if – just if – I could summon the courage to change myself, then I want to try. That’s what I thought, somewhere in my heart.

So can you allow me to take on the trial in these ancient ruins…?

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san…

Hiiro & Aira: …………

Mayoi: Ehehe… Have you perhaps come to hate me because I’ve dishonoured you all?

I understand. Not only have I hogged a job from you all but I’ve also brushed aside your goodwill

But if I were to take hold of your hand here…

If I were to rely on you all again, then I don’t think I’ll have the confidence to continue being a member of “ALKALOID” in the future.

Aira: That’s not true, Mayo-san. I’m causing everyone heaps of trouble too.

Mayoi: What…?

Aira: I don’t think you know this but I was having a pretty hard time with my own trial. If it weren’t for Hiro-kun and Tattsun-senpai saving me, I think I would’ve had to leave halfway through.

So if you think you won’t have the right to be in “ALKALOID” unless you clear this trial on your own, then…

I’ll support your challenge. I’ll watch over you!

Don’t worry even if you fail or cause us trouble. Let us watch you take on the challenge – show us how brave you are!

Mayoi: Aira-san…

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[phoneguyfanclub]

You Go, I'll Stay

Summary: Trapped in the office with all the animatronics surrounding him, Phone Guy realizes there are some things more important than his own life. (AU, Movie-verse: Phone Guy x Vanessa)

…

It was dark.

Vanessa hadn't realized what they were up against, and he didn't know how much longer they could hold out. They were in the office, Vanessa watching the cams while he pressed the buttons on the doors, making them close. It was exhilarating.

They were probably gonna die.

He would not allow that.

If you could use any number of words to describe Phone Guy, it would be: pathetic, cowardly, lying, scumbag, stupid, annoying, and selfish… That's what he thought anyway. He'd seen too much and been a witness to too much. He still wanted to live, but he hated the person he'd become.

Slamming his fist on the desk, he cursed himself for bringing her with him.

She'd only wanted to investigate, and this is what happened. Five animatronics wanting to kill them, and acting in patterns he'd never seen before. He'd worked hard to get his breathing under control, not wanting to panic when he knew someone else needed him to be calm.

Looking to the cams with a calm expression, he muttered.

"I have an idea."

Vanessa, freaked out, nodded with an encouraging grin.

"Great! H-how do we s-stop these bucket of bolts?!"

He continued speaking in a calm tone, all while rolling his chair over to the right and pressing the other door button. It closed with a clank.

"Oh, it's not that kind of idea…"

Her mouth fell agape, wondering what he could mean. She watched him curiously as he grabbed a child's coat from the lost and found and tossed it over to her.

"Huh?!" She flinched and hesitantly caught it.

"Vanessa…" He looked her in the eyes seriously. "I-I'm going to need you to put t-that coat on. Uh… Try and make yourself as small as possible. That way, you know, the animatronics think you're a kid. W-while they're busy with me, they won't notice you!"

As she realized what he was asking of her, she shook her head. "W-what about you…?"

Phone Guy used the keypad to flip through the monitors in a hurry. Making sure they were keeping up with everything to appease the animatronics. He stared straight ahead, not wanting to answer her. Knowing she wouldn't like the answer.

"Come on!" she said desperately. "I-I can't leave you here!"

He sighed softly, and closed his eyes in resignation. "Vanessa. S-sometimes a man's gotta know where his priorities lie. And mine are protecting you…"

She checked the doors and opened them, making sure they weren't using too much power.

Tears came to her eyes as she realized what he was asking her to do.

"No…!"

"Go on, Vanessa…" He said softly. "Run."

She looked into his eyes one more time, and hugged him tightly. He hugged back softly, patting her back. For the first time, Vanessa realized just how much the man who worked at Freddy's meant to her. They'd always been friends, and she'd always thought he was handsome - he was once the company spokesman too, able to ease people's worries with just a flash of his smile. But over all that time they'd spent together, making sure the pizzeria was a safe place, she never realized she loved him. And now she felt it in him too. He'd loved her this whole time and she never noticed it.

"You'll be fine…" He promised. Pulling away, he gazed at her softly and longingly. "Now go."

She chuckled sadly. "I love you too…" And she gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.

As he watched her put on the coat and run, he knew he'd made the right choice. It was funny, he thought. Well-intentioned people always told him he was lucky, not knowing of the tragedies he'd lived through. And now, in his last moments, he'd finally felt as lucky as they'd told him he was.

…

She'd done what he said. She'd put the coat on and made herself as small as possible. Then she crawled on her knees until she got to the pizzeria doors. She couldn't help feel an ocean of emotions going through her as she unlocked them.

If there was a word to describe Phone Guy, it would be brave, selfless, charming, mysterious, funny, strong, helpful… and handsome. So much more so because of his beautiful heart.

Looking back one more time, Vanessa silently wished him luck. She got in her car and drove back to the station, ready to report on what she'd seen. He was a hero in more ways than one. She pondered the nights' events more, and shivered. She'd wait for him outside the restaurant at morning to make sure he's alright.

She parked the car at the station. Reaching into her bag, she took out the photos she'd taken of the animatronics, their eyes blood red. Sifting through the Polaroids, Vanessa smiled. Now they finally had evidence to get the restaurant shut down for good.

[textual-deviant-blog]

Skeet snaps and brutally, horrifically, roasts Jimmy Neutron - A Fic

Jimmy began sweeping up the salt. "Just a little Sodium Chloride."

Skeet, who earned an A in Chemistry, bristled at this. "Actually, dude, it's table salt." Rather than let his anger show, he tried to gently push Jimmy towards the correct answer. After all, he knew that Jimmy was smart, surely the-

"Just what I said, Sodium Chloride!"

Jimmy-- currently flashing the most unbearable, shit-eating grin-- was not prepared for the tongue lashing that Skeet had built up to for his entire character arc. Every time he made a mistake or got something wrong, he committed himself to learning from his mistakes- to bettering himself so he might just get out of this dead end job and get something that would actually pay off his future college tuition. Be it his cowardly nature at McSpanky's resurrection (which would happen later on in the episode) or in less fantastical circumstances.

Jimmy did not.

The stubborn, gifted, born-into-wealth brat wasted all of his money on science projects that inevitably broke or were forgotten about. The only reason he was here was the deviant had wanted more. He had done amazing things with his genius, but the one thing that talent couldn't solve, was the hubris deep within their heart.

Hubris that Skeet struck upon with all the gusto of a man who had gone parched for weeks on end in the hopes of cleaner water.

A better angle? A more thoughtful counterpoint? A more polite way of describing the sheer consequences of his actions? Skeet was done waiting for a better time. Now was the time to put the selfish bastard in his place.

"This." He draws out deliberately, picking up the packet, "Is iodized table salt. Which, in addition to Sodium fucking Chloride, contains anti-caking agents and Potassium motherfucking Iodate, which is added to prevent something you see a BRIGHTLY COLORED WARNING LABEL for on every single goddamn table salt container that isn't from 1924, the year Iodized salt was first put on shelves, which, to emphasize, was the same fucking month they signed the Asian Exclusion Act into writing."

At this point, Jimmy was visibly shaking, his eyes wide in surprise, incomprehension, and more than a little fear.

And Skeet was still piling fuel onto the fire.

Water pooled on the floor as the moment passed and Skeet continued speaking with a clap of his hands. "Let's just recap. So, not only are you being a pretentious dickweed touting scientific terminology for everyday items just to make your coworker and senior think you've actually done a single fucking google search of research in your entire pitiful life instead of coasting on intuition and , you are factually, objectively wrong. And, not, just wrong, but the sheer ease at which you could've found out the correct answer suggests that you couldn't even bother with the thought that you could've, just maybe been incorrect, and instead jumped to a thought that was pitifully underdressed, pretending to be a fucking gold-inlaid fitted suit, when in reality it can barely be called a shitstain on the graveyard of unadulterated and irredeemable bullshit you have spewed out of your mouth without a single filter to speak of."

Shaking and sobbing, Jimmy pleadingly looked up at Skeet, who ignored his pleas and pressed his finger to their chest in a declarative motion. "I have watched you cause just as many life-threating crises for this town as you have solved, cause just as much suffering as you have deprived. How is a 5-9 high school employee with aspirations at becoming a sound engineer but not a fraction of the money needed for their dream school supposed to accomplish anything when the town they live in is constantly destroyed and rebuilt by a god with all the empathy and forward thinking of a PETULANT CHILD?"

Skeet's voice hitched, and he stopped to catch his breath. Turning away from Jimmy, face hot, he tempered himself. He knew hitting the boy would do no good. Not for either of them. "...exactly how many more years of this will it take for you to grow past that preschool ideology that you tout as though it's gospel, Jimmy? Eventually, the people in your life are just going to move on; from you, from this town, from the petty squabbling that youth engage in. And if you stay as you are now, you will be rooted to the fucking spot. All your friends, family, classmates... coworkers? Gone."

Jimmy broke his gaze, and saw his best friend, Carl Wheezer, simply staring on in solemn silence from behind the counter. Carl knew. He knew this whole time. And, not once could he get a word in. He... hadn't let him. Hadn't stopped for a moment between his erratic projects and ideas. Hadn't slowed down to actually think things through. Not once.

"Jimmy. I am going to do you a singular, final favor, as your superior, as your senior, and as a fellow classmate. I'll be taking over your shift for today. All I ask, is that... from one dude to another? Think about what I said." With all of the words he wished to let out having already been spoken, skeeter stepped away briskly to let Jimmy gather his wits after that verbal beating.

Jimmy would have preferred a beating to... this.

This sickening feeling welling up in his stomach.

This terrible, horrible perspective that believed he had been doing everything wrong this whole time.

For the first time in his entire, thinking, life, Jimmy couldn't help but feel like he didn't have all the answers.

So, for the first time in his entire life, Jimmy finally let himself feel stupid.

[heartcal]

rejected ; c.h. (part vii - preview)

i need a calendar because i cannot keep track of the days that pass. oopsie. ANYWAY here's the preview for part seven! :^) i think there are a couple parts left before this series ends :^) btw this part is subject to be changed lol the war in ukraine is still happening, so here's the reddit post with links to trusted charities to help those in need! if there are any mistakes or questions, feel free to ask!

summary:  he was just a silly little crush that you had in high school, and you were sure that after graduating, you would be over it. so why is your heart beating fast as he sits next to you in your first class on your first day of college? pairing: calum hood x reader (gender-neutral) genre: fluff, angst, classmates to friends to loves au, college au warning(s): mentions of past toxic relationship (full part will have more warnings regarding this topic) preview word count: 449 words to be posted: ~october 8, 2022 series masterlist! | main masterlist!

Calum finds it hard to explain himself. Looking in from the outside, Calum could see himself as a cowardly selfish person; acting without a second thought, inconsiderate of how it would make others feel, all just to make themselves feel better. He took your concern and kindness, stomped on it repeatedly, and threw it in the trash. And to make it worse, you still had the guts to tell him you liked him. That was something he was not brave to do.

“You can’t be short with me, Cal,” Ashton scolds, observing Calum’s body language.

Calum moves his hands down his face, revealing his eyes—which were glossy and a slightly darker red than before—as he stares at the ceiling. He avoids Ashton’s stare because he knows it would have him spilling more than what he wants to let out, and he’s not quite ready for that. Not yet, at least.

“Sheila still has a hold on me,” Calum states, swallowing the bile rising in his throat, “she has a hold on me and I can’t let go.”

“Cal,” exasperation flows out of Ashton as he sits next to Calum, mirroring his position to stare at the ceiling, “Sheila was—is—a bad person. She had no regard for how she made people feel, always wanting to be the center of attention, and when she doesn’t get what she wants she becomes someone completely different. Worse.”

Ashton watches Calum shut his eyes, a tear slipping out before his eyes open again.

“Toxic and abusive relationships,” Ashton sighs, continuing, “it’s—they are hard to move on from. I get that. But I know you, Cal. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Ashton knows that it’s a weak attempt to soothe Calum, but he recalls how well Calum kept it together throughout the last year of high school. Anyone who wasn’t privy to the relationship’s ups and downs would’ve thought that Calum never went through something like that. Those who knew, though, couldn’t understand how Calum can keep his head up, but at the same time were proud of him.

Calum’s eyes flutter shut again, nose flaring as a few more tears slip out.

“Throwing the box out from under your bed is a great start.”

Calum knows it is. He hates that he’s right (and he does not know how Ashton knew about that box), but it would be best to throw it out.

“I will,” he whispers, using the sleeves of his sweatshirt to wipe at the tears.

“Now,” Ashton readjusts in his seat, “tell me exactly what happened.”

Calum heaves out a sigh, letting a few beats of silence pass before starting from the very beginning.

[fanahrts]

i hope you realize you're exactly like him. Exactly. Like. Him. going through the receipts, suicidal guilt tripping just like a certain someone. "he would purposely give u his attention like a rollercoaster to keep you on" just like a certain shitty ex boyfriend.

Hi. This is a very dead blog, and this is not the previous owner - I am his current boyfriend. This account will go right back to being inactive after I post this.

I have a lot to stay, and I'll try to keep it as brief and concise as I can, but I think it's incredibly telling that you would be willing to compare a mentally ill autistic teenager (teenager at the time, at least) who, at the time, did not know better (and no one bothered to tell him either, everyone kept their mouth shut until it was time to dogpile, it seems!) to someone who manipulated and abused him for months on end - emotionally, psychologically, sexually, and I'd even argue physically (causing someone multiple seizures, accusing them of lying about having them, and then continuing the behavior that caused the seizures could be classified physical abuse, could it not?).

It's also incredibly telling that you'd be willing to take the side of someone you're actively admitting to being an abusive person.

Those two freaks have been actively stalking him for over half a decade at this point. Half. A. Decade. Following him around from platform to fucking platform in order to try to run off any friends or community he has. In the time that I have known him, Barry (or whatever name the freak goes by now) has done this twice.

They want to claim to be victims, but that is not the behavior of victims. Victims do not actively seek out their supposed abuser multiple times over the span of six years to actively antagonize them and the people who associate with them. They generally have a tendency to avoid their abusers at all costs, actually - I would know, I am a victim of abuse myself.

Everyone involved in this situation back in 2017 are now adults. Fucking act like it. The fact that there were anons from one of them on this very blog as recently as October of 2021 is just pathetic. Grow up, go to fucking therapy, get a life, something, please.

This next bit is specifically for Barry - who I assume at some point will be reading this as he's clearly deranged and actively sends anons to a blog that's been dead for years: You are genuinely one of the most vile people I have ever witnessed. And I say witnessed, because I have seen you in action twice now. It's bad enough to abuse someone the way you have, but it's next level evil (and I do not say that lightly) to proceed to obsessively stalk this person for the following 6 years, and try to continue to abuse them. I get angrier thinking about you than I do thinking about the people who have personally caused me severe trauma throughout my lifespan.

You disgust me. Blaming your extremely abusive behavior on a stigmatized disorder and refusing to take any steps to better yourself so you don't hurt those around you and just expecting them to accomodate abusive behavior is not what a victim does. It's what an abuser does. I'd say to get help, but I genuinely believe you are beyond help at this rate. I hope you stay far, far away from other people.

And for Cisco (or whatever name he goes by now) : I am not your biggest fan either, not by a longshot (in fact, I think you are highly abusive as well in your own ways, and enabled Barry) but I'm going to say this, because I think that you need to hear it, incase you are still with him: He is abusing you. Everything I have heard of how he treated you is textbook abuse. And I think you know that to some degree, based on the way you have seemingly sent asks to this blog begging for it's owner to come back years after the fact. I think you knew when sending those anons that you were in a bad situation, and that you wanted someone else to come back and help deal with that abuse as well. That is selfish, and cowardly, but it is a sign to me that you are in over your head. If you are still with him: leave.

Overall, I have witnessed first hand the effects of what you two did to him. I see the uncertainty in relationships, the flashbacks, the PTSD and OCD, the nightmares, the self-doubt, the alters who split in order to merely hold the trauma that was caused, the paranoia and fear, etc. I see it all first hand. You are not the victims here, and I think you fucking know that - unless you are actually completely delusional. Barry, I know you are stalking my twitter account - or were, at some point, that is - because I know that is how you found him the last time. You are completely fucking deranged and either need serious help or to not be in any interpersonal relationships with anyone.

Go ahead, call me a p3do apologist or whatever it was you called people who stuck by him in the past. You two wouldn't know p3dophilia if it struck you in the god damn face, it seems, considering you are grown adults spreading around a callout from over half a decade ago that contains screenshots of a then-17 year old talking sexually about himself. I don't know, maybe it's just me but that seems awfully similar to distribution of CP, hm?

I'm pleased to say that neither of you can access him, or hurt him anymore. And your last couple attempts to get the people he cares about to leave him failed. Miserably. He has me, and he has friends who have stuck by him and will stick by him. I hope that fact bothers you, you fucking miserable, pathetic freak. Go fuck yourself.

[alloganes-arc2]

i reached tag limit on a post i wanted to do but.    anyways.    at first glance asmaros may not fit into the archetype of the innamorati simply because they are not motivated by romantic love but trust me they do fit into the archetype.    just not in the way u think

the innamorati in the commedia dell’arte are depicted as two people,  which is a little befitting because asmaros technically is two people.    they are the product of the ritualistic reunion between noor and his disciple’s souls.    their conscious is literally the result of both noor and his disciple being torn apart and sloppily sewn back together to form an independent entity,  hence their initial amnesia and lack of memory when their corpse was awakened,  but remnants of noor and the disciple still remain.    they still whisper to asmaros,  they still writhe and anguish within their awful form.    those remnants,  however,  are not strong enough to act as the dominant conscious over their shared body,  because again,  asmaros is the horrific union of them both.    asmaros is them    /    they are asmaros.    both of their emotions,  every echo of the life they lived,  it is all asmaros’ to suffer and to feel.    (    however,  given noor had been a god who had lived centuries beforehand and the disciple was only a human,  what remains of noor’s memory seemed to be the more powerful of the two in terms of what asmaros remembers.    for example,  asmaros can remember most of noor’s life,  whereas asmaros does even know the name of the other half of them.    )    asmaros’ motivations are the product of the people they are;    they are a hollow shell with only the ghosts of who they were to guide them and they must fulfill the plea of a bygone era in order to feel some imitation of completion.    that rage,  that grief,  it gives them purpose.    noor’s final call for deicide guides them.    the disciple’s devotion and admiration for noor leads them to answer that call.    if they are forsaken of that,  why else do they exist?

one of the innamorati’s biggest characteristics in theater is their selfishness and self-centeredness.    in asmaros’ case,  it is a kind of selfless selfishness.    they are doing this to avenge the god within them.    they believe they are doing this on behalf of every god,  civilization,  and person who has been affected by celestia,  but truly,  it is all for noor.    despite feeling guilt for many of their actions,  asmaros will do anything to bring about their resolve,  even if it means destroying everything and cutting down anyone in their path.

the lovers often faced obstacles preventing them from their happiness and.    man.    that basically summarizes asmaros’ time in the fatui.    every single day since their awakening,  they urged for the fatui’s plans to speed up,  they urged for more direct action instead of waiting.    every time they asked,  those requests were shot down,  they were told to be patient.    and they were patient!    they were patient for fifty years.    asmaros is living on borrowed time;    they are not meant to exist.    their body required heavy experimentation just to stabilize the heavy amount of archon residue in them.    they are literally a bomb just waiting to detonate,  able to enact just as much devastation that leveled munirah,  a devastation that still affects the environment around it even after two thousand years.    the apostates are their means of continuing a fight the fatui are too cowardly to face.    they refused to be bound by bureaucracy for any longer.

the lovers were depicted as overemotional.    asmaros’ biggest downfall is following their emotions.    nearly anything they do is based off of their own emotions and care for their loved ones.    it is all about violence and bloodshed in the name of grief and love.    need i say more

[babyspacebatclone]

been thinking about this for a while, but there’s one thing I really wish I could have seen in Xiran Jay Zhao’s book Iron Widow.

And that is for Zetian to have not been completely right about Yang Guang.

Minor direct spoilers for the first 5th of the book, but not big ones.

All right, I know Zetian’s killing Yang Guang and avenging her sister is supposed to be a large empowering moment for her. But I feel him being responsible for her sister's death removes an opportunity to explore Zetian’s morality that the book barely glances at. I want Yang to be a bad guy. I want him to have abused his concubines. I want Zetian killing him in the Nine-Tailed Fox to be a primal, visceral act of survival and rage. I want the Army's defense of Yang afterwards to be the mark of selfish, cowardly misogynists defending a man who is not the hero he pretended to be. But I also want Zetian to continue to have to question her actions, to feel morally gray, to wonder if she did the exactly right thing. That the things she had clung to for so long, that her sister's death had been a direct result of her broken society, to not be so clear-cut. To actually been what had been claimed – an accident. Because the girls dying to power the Chrysalises is reason enough to want to make things different. I regret that we never get to see Zetian struggle with her morality the way we briefly do before getting into the Fox with Yang. I regret that Zetian’s first kill in what will be a long war is presented as completely justifiable. I don't want it to not be justifiable – I want there to be reason to hate Yang, to have to examine the society that chooses to turn a blind eye to his actions. I just don't want Shimin to be the only one to have to struggle with the blood on his hands. I want part of what Zetian has to live with over killing Yang is that in the moment, it was all rage and self survival – and not justified revenge. I want her to be able to understand what it means to enter a Chrysalis with two, and exit with only one, as other good people had to live with. Especially with the climactic reveal about the truth of the Hundun war being nowhere as clear-cut as the government had told the people.

Zetian is going to have to address the consequences of killing Hunduns once she has time to process the truth. And this earlier, gray area killing would have given some foreshadowing of how she will handle it. And it feels like such a missed opportunity to not give the readers that.

[yueasuka]

The more I think about it, the more I feel like Ghost Rule is Felix's song especially post reveal or half reveal where he know Ladybug identity first.

No, look, listen...

Having lied about the most inconsequential of things, I'm unable to go back. No statute of limitations for my crime. Robbed of forgiveness for that thievery of mine

Bridgette and Felix is already a friend's, maybe not really close, but friends regardless and considering how kind she is, if he were to tell her about the curse she would most likely help him out even if she doesn't have a feelings for him. But at this point, Felix has lied for so long that he couldn't just take everything he had said back and thus continue to lie to cover up another lie which lead to the next verse :

Things don’t look any better today Unable to keep up this deception the way I’d hoped Slowly lapsing in depravity I hardly realize what has already become rotten

The more lies he made, the more he deprived her from the truth and as the lie piled up he found himself in never ending circle of lie that he couldn't escape from and it eating him alive.

Come here, stay “I hid it away”

He want to tell Bridgette the truth but at this point would that make any difference?

Mayday! Even if you realize it’s me You don’t need to hold me in your arms again Hey, Mayday! If you realize it’s me Will you kindly laugh at me once more?

Felix know what he had done is terrible and he doesn't even expect forgiveness, after he play with her feelings like that. But still he couldn't help but hope that maybe... maybe she could forgive him, one day?

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh I know I’m nothing but a ghost Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh An empty shell built of lies, hey!

He knows he's nothing but a liar, he had lie so much that the whole existence of Chat Noir, 'the hero of paris' that he created has become the lie itself. Because there's nothing heroic about him. Chat Noir is, after all, a fake persona that he created to fool her.

Though I’m sure that “NO” is what I try to say Strangely it comes out as “YES” The bad thing about regret is that you start to realize that if You can fool someone completely, then you’re innocent Choosing to act cowardly, unfairly? No big deal, a prayer or two can take care of that That affected talkativeness of mine Just digging my own grave, burning myself out

The lie has piled up more to the point he couldn't keep up with it, "Did I say A? Or is it B for this question?" "Did I say this as Chat Noir or as Felix?" In the end he just say many things, but nothing at the same time. But hey even if it's become inconsistent he could just lie through it, right?

That sense of guilt, beholding like this for how long? It’s all going gray Even if it’s just me acting like the victim

Lie has become so easy for him, like breath. Except with every breath he take, the more he feels suffocate by it. How much longer can he keep it up?

Mayday! Feel free to berate me If honesty seems like such a wonderful thing Hey, Mayday! Bring down the gavel and seal my fate I who’ve chosen to act spoiled to the end

In the end the truth came out in the light (most likely by third party) and all Felix can do is just... Accept his fate.

Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh I’m just a wandering spirit, dead and gone Say woah-oh-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh A blank void, empty as can be, hey!

He has gotten tired of it. All the lies he told her has made him... empty, just an empty shell made of lies.

Wishing for what I lacked I came face to face with a version of “me” That was nothing like myself And yet I kept going Even through the dark night that made my head swim Love me! I who lack so much I was raised by that selfish egotism of mine after all Can you really see me? This lonely, poisoned clown

The moment he confronted himself, Felix couldn't help but laugh at himself. He hate his father because he's a liar, he told young Felix that his mother disappeared when in reality she was dead. And yet here he is, become a liar that he hate the most that he couldn't even recognized himself anymore, drowned in the sea of lies that poison him.

Mayday! Expose me for what I really am For this world is about to meet its end Hey, Mayday! Dance with me! Did you actually realize “I” was never truly here to begin with?

While he knows how selfish he is for hoping for her to forgive him, he couldn't help but yearned for Bridgette's love. "love me! Dance with me!" Although he wondered if he really love her or is it just another lie? Can she see the real him among the pile of lies that he built thorough all this time when he couldn't even see himself anymore?

"What am I? Am I really exist? Or is my existence just a lie?"

[campbluelake]

Everything You Ever | Malyce MM.4 | ATTN: ALL

Malyce could only listen in horror as everyone began to break down who he was. The horrible, conniving, selfish brat of a man, too cowardly to follow through. Too sick to avoid this darkness. Every action has led himself here. How could he even try to fight back? How could he defend himself? His body stayed rigid as everyone accused him. Jeering, judging eyes, hoping to string him up and bleed him out, ready to plunge the daggers into him. He couldn’t help but look away.

Part of him wanted to cling to the idea that maybe.. just maybe… things will be okay as long as they don’t proceed. That he’ll still have Yua, and Warrick, and Abbie, and Kyousuke… He’ll still have the people he loves so deeply. Maybe if he can extend this period just a little longer, he can pretend that they ever loved him in the first place.

Why was it here that he finally felt loved?

♪♪♪

After years of rejection. After decades of negligence, being in the shadows, and always coming up in last place… Why was it here that someone actually saw him for who he was? Or… who he wanted to be. 

Marion Faustino wasn’t always this pathetic. He had dreams of acting, before he was shot down by siblings who cared all too little about their baby brother encroaching upon their territory. His dreams of dance were staunched by bad posture, and average balance. Every movie he made was neither good nor bad critically. Middling grades, subpar excellence wrapped in a fine bow. The runt of the family, the one forgotten in family portraits. Was that why he had so many of himself on his walls? Everything Marion Faustino believed in his life was that he was simply okay. Just okay.

How would you feel if everything you’ve ever wanted to be was simply… average..?

Yua’s words bring him comfort. Just say he didn’t do it. Just say that he was innocent, that maybe the crazed contractor was Kaede, or Tommy, somehow. Maybe it was Jo, who knows..? A shaking hand reaches for Yua’s own, fingers entwining with the other’s. He was always so calm when it came to protecting Malyce. He was anxious, stressed, and scared of how others viewed him, but when it was about Malyce, he was a protector. A prince, guarding his heart. Yua shouldn’t have to protect Malyce. Lips mouth words to his friend and love as he squeezes his hand.

… They deserved everything. No runarounds, no pointing fingers, or red herrings. These people who surround him like a pack of wolves catching up to the last injured deer deserve the truth. They deserved his blood. They had earned it… But was he ready? Would he ever be ready? He closes his eyes as the final words fall on his ears, and he begins pouring out his heart in his mind.

I’m sorry Mom, for disappointing you again… You always saw the good in me, even if there wasn’t anything there.I’m sorry Dad, for never becoming the person you thought I’d be. I’m sorry to everyone I’ve hurt. I used to think I had earned it, even knowing what I was doing was wrong. I’m sorry.I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for everything.

Malyce stands up to his feet, pushing his body, every muscle in him screaming for him to stop. His hand weakly lets go of Yua’s, leaving him behind. He shouldn’t be watching him like this with so much care he has in his heart. The tears begin to cascade down his face, words spilling out urgently as he attempts to find some footing amidst the chaos in his mind. He has to tell them. He needs them to know. He can’t keep playing this stupid game!

“It’s me! It’s all me! No one else! I’m the fucking contractor, okay?! I thought your lives were worth throwing away, a-and for what?! Some stupid half baked dreams? That could never make up for what I’ve done! It could never replace the lives I’ve stolen from you! The price to pay was always too high to meet…”

His words continue to spill out of him as Jo and Warrick’s words echo within him. He’s their friend. He cares for them. They believe he’s strong..? How could he be strong, when all he’s ever done is cling to those who are strong for him? He found the strength in those who didn’t care for others’ opinions. He imitated those who pushed their physical health to the pinnacle, and tried desperately to be just like those he admired. All that love and adoration, corrupted by envious green eyes. The same eyes continue to cry as everyone’s words finally hit his heart. Eri’s disappointment, Abbie’s faith… it was all well intentioned, but the person these words went to was not the person they believed in.

“I’m everything you all say I am! I’m a monster! I’m a villain! I was born this way and I can never change! There was never a chance for me! Warrick, stop trying to defend me! I tricked you! I hurt you! You’re dead because of me! Yua I’m… I’m so sorry… I’m sorry I’m not who someone half as great as you see me as…”

Malyce steps foward, his hand balling the fabric of his shirt over his heart. How does he begin to explain? What does he say? How does he say goodbye before Max kills him..? Will he get to say goodbye before Kyousuke’s bullets tear into him? He’s been preparing for his death, but no one can really tell you it’ll be easy when it happens. He attempts to take another step, only to find black goop catching his foot, slowly crawling up his leg.

“Huh…? Wh… What is this..?”

♪♪♪

He begins to panic as he watches the black goop crawl up him. He staggers back, only for more goop to catch his other foot.

“Stop..! Stop! I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to play this game! T-Tell it to stop!”

His pleas fall on deaf ears as it quickly moves to encase him completely. He sobs and struggles as he seems to have no control over it. Soon enough, Malyce has been completely covered in the black sludge the counselors has grown accustomed to. It hardens like an egg shell, and everyone is left in silence.

Then slowly, green cracks begin to glow within the “shell” of the tomb that’s been made for Malyce. Heat radiates off of it to those closest to where he once stood. The cracks continue to spread, creating small chunks of hardened black ichor that begins to break off. The air grows heavy as everyone present continues to watch this display, but it isn’t long before the shell finally bursts. The debris falls to the ground, spilling out on the town square brickwork, as Malyce rises to his feet once more.

Of course. This was a game. This was a show. This was for his entertainment. Of course Malyce had to come with a costume change. He stands straight, bringing a now gloved hand to his bejeweled chest, raising his other hand into the air. A look of regret and shame cover his face, green eyes glowing. The air above his raised hand heats up before exploding into a small bulb of wispy green magic. From the bulb, a leather bound book blooms, pages fluttering back and forth. Five flames circle behind him, creating a pentagram, and his envy that pushed forth his own corruption wilting away to the greatest guilt man has ever felt. That very guilt now fed the power that holds him now. Truly a Faust in namesake and in his defeat.

The Director, Marion “Malyce” Faustino, stands before you all.

His soul withers away as he realizes his clock has struck midnight. A voice echoes as he opens his mouth, a small chorus surrounds all of you.

“Apologies mean so little in the grand scheme of things, I know this. Please… let me try and change what I’ve done. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll answer any question I can. I’m under the same restrictions Niko is, and cannot share anything about the other one, so let me bare my own soul here….”

Emerald eyes cry glimmering tears as he looks to everyone.

“Please… I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again.”

[crimsonredchaos]

Ending the year on a not-so-good note

It's just something about December which makes me want to cut people off like surgeons cut off malignant tumors, ruthlessly and with no regrets. The whole year we meet new people, some stay, some don't. Irony lies in the fact that people whom we want to stay are very often the people who exit out of our lives the earliest. We grieve in their absence, however, we fail to identify that the people who leave are actually much healthier than those who stay in our lives and continue to torment us with their presence. I, for one, have never been able to keep pretenses and act like I'm grateful for people whom I know have been secretly wishing for my downfall the whole year. Let me be honest over here, the number of people who secretly hate me is unbelievingly large. Even I have not been able to keep track of what exactly I did that pissed them off. Apologies to everyone whom I may have hurt unintentionally. But, the finger to those who think I will apologize for being me, for leading the life that I lead (academic and personal), for making the friends that I make, for caring the way that I care or for having the guts to raise my voice in situations where most of the crowd prefers to stay silent. This attitude of mine is exactly why some of my peers call me "arrogant", "harsh", "cold", "snobbish" and "selfish". Surprisingly enough I'd rather be all those and do whatever I feel like doing and stand up for whatever I feel is morally correct than being two faced, cowardly and immature like some of those peers of mine. Fun fact: Tumors often tend to grow back in exactly the same place from where they had been removed. Similarly, no matter how many people I cut off every year, I also embrace myself for the fact that as I enter a new year, new people with new agendas against me will be making an entrance as well, to make me feel inferior about anything and everything that I do. I don't really know whether it's the bitterness of not using social media for a day or the chilly winter air of mid-December, because tonight is the first time I have openly stood up for myself with no regrets and honestly, I've never felt this proud of myself. Here's to hoping that whoever reads this, finds the courage to rise above the norms of their sugarcoated poisonous social environment, be unapologetic about their personality and emerge as the strongest version of themselves.