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cuuno-moved · 2 years

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this year

a bryce kent fic

(alternatively titled "if i don't name every single fic after a mountain goats song i die") (alternatively alternatively titled "bryce was supposed to be my ventsona. so let's vent")

tw for domestic abuse, suicidal ideation, misgendering, alcoholism, death and panic attacks. sorry

...

He was sick.

He stared at his ceiling, hardly breathing, hardly thinking.

His stomach hurt so so bad, and he thought he had a fever, but he wasn't sure why, wasn't sure what was causing it.

Maybe he was hungry.

He rolled out of bed, stumbling to the pile of chests in the corner, digging out a loaf of bread. He unwrapped it carefully, and prepared to take a bite, staring morosely down at it.

He'd baked it yesterday, and it was still fresh.

It should be appetizing.

He should want to eat it. He should be hungry.

He wrapped it again, putting it back in the chest and going back to bed.

He rolled on his side, staring at the wall. Maybe he hadn't slept enough the night before? Maybe that was why he was so sick? Or maybe he had eaten something undercooked? Or maybe the radiation was catching up to him?

Veiler clucked outside, unbothered by Bryce's mysterious illness.

Bryce whimpered, then immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. No, there was no time for that, there was no reason to be crying. It was just a stomach ache, he couldn't get whiny now.

He felt like he was dying, like his stomach was trying to turn itself completely inside out.

One traitorous tear slipped out right as Veiler stuck its head in through the door.

He bolted upright, ignoring the way his stomach lurched and churned at the motion, immediately slinging his legs over the side of his bed. "Shit, hey, man."

Veiler clucked at him and he scrubbed his face desperately, trying to chase the burning from his eyes.

He couldn't die. Not here, not now.

He was going to make it through this year if it killed him.

…

He was drunk.

Not super drunk, just a little bit drunk. That was his excuse for crying all over this random girl.

He wasn't a cryer.

Really, the last time he'd cried was when he was a little kid, he didn't cry. But here he was, sobbing like a baby because some chick asked about his scars.

She looked a bit uncomfortable, glancing between him and the door, and he whimpered in embarrassment, hiding his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry," He moaned, trying to catch his breath. "This is stupid."

"No, it's okay," She said, kindly. "I get it. Sometimes you just have to cry."

He let out another whimper, burying his head in his arms.

"...My name is Imari," The girl said, finally. "Imari Lipon. I'm from Mezalea, I know how it feels to lose things."

She didn't. She really didn't, because Mezalea was still standing.

He just nodded.

The next thing he knew, they were kissing.

The next thing he knew, he was shirtless.

The next thing he knew, he was alone, at a station, with her contact info written on his hand.

His whole body crawled, tingled, burned with the sensation of hands crawling over him.

Was this what he'd come down to? A nameless drunk, a cheap body, a crying stranger in a bar? He was the sole survivor of the Grimlands, the last person to walk those ruined streets. He had a story to tell, but he wasn't sure anyone would ever listen.

He could hear a train coming.

For a moment, he considered leaning forward, just a little bit, just enough to tip forward onto the rails. Enough people had seen him drunk at the bar that it could feasibly be an accident.

No.

No, he thought as the train thundered past. He couldn't die like that.

He messaged Imari, just to talk to someone, just to feel less alone.

He was going to make it through this year if it killed him.

…

He was late.

He had told Imari he'd be home at 5:30, but here it was, 7:49 and he was only just now crawling home, his horse slowly trotting up the driveway.

One of the roosters in the coop out back must have seen him, because it let out a cry, and inside, the light flipped on.

He took a shaky, steadying breath and swung his leg down.

"You're late," Imari said from the door, where she stood with crossed arms, a shawl around her shoulders against the cold. "Two hours late, actually."

"Got caught up with something."

"Yeah? What was her name?"

"Oh, slate, Imari, don't start with this again."

"Walt cried today. He cried because his daddy's never home-"

"-His mom, I'm his mother-"

"-Then act like it," Imari's voice stung. "You act like an absentee father, and a useless husband, and a goddamn drunk- are you drunk right now, Bryce?"

Bryce stared at her, wordlessly.

"You are," She breathed, pressing her hands to her face. "I married a drunk."

Bryce exhaled, trying hard not to react.

"My point is, if you're so insistent that you're a woman, that you're a mother and a wife, maybe you should try a bit to act like it."

Bryce was having trouble breathing. Vaguely, he wondered if his lungs were really filling with lead or if he was imagining it.

He and Imari stared at each other in silence, each daring the other to fold, before, finally, Bryce moved to walk up the porch steps.

"Stop," Imari snapped. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To bed," Bryce sighed. "I'm tired and cold."

"Not my bed," Imari sneered. "You're not stepping foot in my house until you can look me in the eye and apologize."

"You're a bitch. Get out of my way."

"No," Imari planted herself firmly, one hand on either side of the doorframe. "Either apologize or go crawling back to the bar."

Bryce stared at her, dumbly.

"Get out of here." She spat, and slammed the door.

He stared at the painted wood, his mind dull and buzzing. Where could he even go at a time like this? The bar was so far away, and he knew that if he stepped foot in there, he'd never leave.

For a moment, he considered laying down on the porch, letting himself give in to the cold. Let Imari and Walt find his frozen, lifeless body in the morning, let them cry and wail and wish they'd been kinder.

But somehow, deep down, he knew they wouldn't give a damn.

Walt was almost four. He was old enough to understand that his father- no, mother, Bryce was his mother- his mother wasn't around, ever, and his mommy was heartbroken about it. He was old enough to understand absence. He was old enough to know his mother was a damned mess.

If Bryce died here, it wouldn't solve anything. Whether Imari and Walt mourned or not, it'd just prove Imari's point, and he'd be dead.

So he turned around, and started down the porch steps.

He was going to make it through this year if it killed him.

…

He couldn't breathe.

He wasn't sure why, he really wasn't, but he couldn't breathe and his head hurt and he wasn't sure where he was.

He thought he could feel something growing in his chest.

He lay down on the ground for a moment, pressing his hands to the damp pine needles that carpeted the ground.

He'd been out, avoiding his family, trying to find anything to do to stop him from having to come back to Walt's seventeenth birthday party.

He'd never gotten a birthday party, he thought bitterly.

His seventeenth birthday was spent on the streets, hardly a month after his escape, begging for food and pay.

He never got presents and a loving mom who brushed his hair and put it up all special just for him.

But he'd also never had a drunkard mother who fucked off into the middle of the woods to have a panic attack instead of being there for his son.

He felt like shit.

Not in the guilty way- as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty about not being there for Walt- he knew he should love the boy, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel anything other than a mute sort of indifference.

He was a smart kid, and a killer on the piano, and he was kind, and he was brave, and he was athletic and he loved his mom. But when Bryce looked at him, all he could think was how much he looked like Imari, and how little he looked like Bryce.

What if he did die out here?

He didn't want to- he'd finally figured that out- he really hadn't ever wanted to die, he'd always wanted to live, to be loved, to somehow find a world where when he was held, it didn't make his skin crawl. He'd always wanted to grow old, to be content, to not have to rely on alcohol and pills to make himself forget the stifling, suffocating, ever present feeling of being alone.

Because that's what he was. He was alone in the Grimlands, and he was alone here. Even with a wife and son, even then, he really didn't have anybody.

It was cruel of the universe, he thought, to take Angus away.

They had only been friends out of shared bitterness- they'd both been abandoned by the world, and had sworn they wouldn't abandon each other, but, only a couple months after Bryce had met Imari, Angus had told him he was leaving to go back to the ocean.

And Bryce was alone.

He was starting to think this wasn't a panic attack.

He was very well accustomed to how those felt, and this wasn't the same thing. His lungs were full of something.

He coughed.

Blood.

Oh.

He was thankful he was already laying down because he would have surely collapsed otherwise.

He was almost to the trail. If he could drag himself a few more feet…

"Hey drunkard!" Someone called. A hoard of teens stood on the path- how had he not noticed them? "Have some of this!"

A glass bottle shattered on the ground next to him and he hardly had the energy to flinch. The teens yelled and hollered, running off into the darkness.

They were Gobland kids, he could tell from their robes. The country was new, having only been dug up recently, and, faintly, Bryce thought it might be a nice place to live.

He'd always liked caves.

He dragged himself another foot, one hand coming down squarely on a broken shard of glass. He hissed out through his teeth, but kept going.

Think about the caves. Think about the future.

There would be a future, he told himself.

He wasn't going to die here.

He was going to go home, and he would finally apologize to Imari, and he would tell Walt he loved him and he'd actually mean it this time and he'd stop drinking and then he'd move them all to the Goblands and get a job and he'd be fine and he'd be happy.

He wasn't going to die here. Not like this.

He couldn't.

Not when he had so much he wanted to do.

He had never even told anyone his story. He'd written it down somewhere, but no one would read it, because no one wanted another depressing story. They wanted hope and nice things.

And Bryce could give them that! If he survived, he'd write a million nice tales, he'd never talk about what happened to him again, he'd never complain about his life for as long as he lived!

If he survived…

He wasn't going to die here.

He wasn't breathing at all now. Not a bit.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't think.

He wasn't going to die here.

He wasn't

…

He was alive.

He was alive and it hurt so so much. Every touch felt like fire- the soft silk nightgown he wore clung to his skin and burned, the hair on the back of his neck felt like it was going to make him bleed, the wall at his back felt like fire. He was going to be sick.

He wasn't sure why he agreed to hug Rose.

Maybe some twisted, stupid part of him thought it'd fix him, he'd feel some sort of kinship with the teen, but instead all he'd felt was like his entire body was aflame.

He hadn't felt anything in so so long, hadn't had the sensation of human touch in even longer.

The last time he'd been touched had been a week before his death, when he and Imari had an argument, he'd pushed her a bit, and Walt had punched him.

It'd been a deserved punch, he had to admit, he thought he could still feel it in his gut now.

He could feel Rose's heart in his chest from where his shoulder had pressed against it.

He couldn't breathe.

It all felt so wrong.

He'd really wanted the hug to fix him, he'd wanted to feel better, he'd wanted to get better. He wanted to be fine.

He wasn't.

A door opened downstairs and the deep, raspy voice of Acamar rang through the house.

He slipped a hand under the collar of his nightgown to press it against his heart.

It was beating, alright.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

The door to the bedroom opened slowly.

Immediately, he snapped his head up, trying to force his face into something expressionless, something he was used to.

Acamar stood there, one hand on the doorknob, the other hand on the bottom of its veil, tugging it down.

"Rose said…" It hesitated. "Rose said you were having a panic attack."

Bryce winced. "I'm not. I'm fine now."

"You're not… breathing."

Bryce didn't breathe for a count longer, as if to try to convince Acamar that that was normal, but then it all escaped him in a wave and he gasped, slamming his forehead into his knees.

Acamar hesitated, before ghosting across the room, crouching in front of Bryce.

"Can I touch you?"

"No, no, no, fuck, please don't-"

"I won't, don't worry," Bryce could hear it move away a bit. "Can you… can you tell me three things you can see?"

"My legs."

"What else?"

"My hair. Uh, the carpet."

"Good. Three things you can feel?"

"Uh. I don't- I can't-"

"It's okay. Take your time."

Bryce squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw. "Uh. My nightgown. The wall. Uh, my cheeks, oh shit, am I crying-?"

"It's okay," Acamar said gently. "It's fine."

"No, I don't- I don't cry-"

"It might not be crying, your eyes may just be watering from lack of oxygen. It happens. Can you tell me three things you hear?"

"You?"

"Good, two more," Acamar rumbled. "Just name too more."

"Uh, my breathing," Bryce said, realizing abruptly that he could, in fact, hear his own breathing. "And there's someone shouting outside."

"A boiled peanuts seller, I think," Acamar said, a smile audible in its voice. "Have you ever had boiled peanuts?"

"I'm allergic."

"Ah, a shame."

Bryce had lifted his head now, to peek at Acamar through his hair. He couldn't see its face, of course, but it didn't seem to be looking at him. Its head was turned toward the window, and it leaned back against the bed slightly. It looked comfortable.

"I feel better now," He said honestly, wiping the snot out of his beard. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

They sat in silence for a moment, before Acamar cleared its throat. "Bryce, right? I'm-"

"Acamar. Yeah, I know. I've been… watching Rose, I guess, for a couple months now."

He couldn't see Acamar's face, but he could imagine its expression. Disgust, probably, or maybe anger.

Acamar hid it well, though, only hummed and nodded.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. Are you… are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine."

That was a blatant lie, and Acamar knew it. But it didn't call him out on it.

"I'm proud of you," It said, instead, and he froze like a deer in the headlights. "Rose told us what happened to you, and I have to say, you're pretty strong for going through all of that and still being here now."

"It's not like I have a choice," Bryce chuckled, bitterly. "Do I?"

"You do, sort of," Acamar shrugged. "If you didn't want to be alive, you wouldn't be. We wouldn't have been able to bring you back if you didn't want to come."

Bryce froze.

He wanted to live.

He wanted to be here, be alive, be given a second chance at life.

He wanted, selfishly, to taste fresh bread and hold someone's hand and a soft warm bed and to live.

He wanted to be alive.

He was going to make it through this year if it killed him.

#bryce kent #dave's author arc #i literally just torture this poor woman and call it a day #kent heritage lore

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probablygayattorneys · 9 months

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Blog update

For the past year or so, this blog has posted twice a day. Once at a random time between 6:30-7:30 AM MST and once at a random time between 11:30 AM-12:30 PM MST.

Starting tomorrow, this blog will post once a day at noon MST exactly.

I am going to explain why below but before I do, I'm going to TW for really, really serious mental health issues so... just stop reading if you're not up for that.

I am not well.

It is probably obvious from how absolutely off the wall some of my posts have been that my brain doesn't work like most people but I don't think anyone understands the full extent of just how broken my brain is.

Even my doctors don't agree. Give me a mental disorder, I've probably been diagnosed with it at least once. Autism. Depression. Bipolar. ADHD. BPD. CRSD. GAD. I've got the whole fucking can of alphabet soup in my bowl, but nobody really knows.

What we do know is that during June, at the same time my dad got diagnosed with cancer (don't worry, I didn't even know stage 0 cancer was a thing but apparently they caught it so early they just did a tiny little surgery and now they think he's completely cancer free) my depression hit hard. Legitimately, so bad that I was officially declared disabled by it to keep me on my parents' insurance since I turned 26 in August.

The only song that I can even think of that comes close to trying to describe how I feel is the song Autoclave, by The Mountain Goats. Embedded below if you'd like to listen.

youtube

We've done everything. I have a therapist I see weekly. I did a sleep study. I have a psychopharmacologist who has prescribed me enough medications that I could probably not just tranquilize an elephant but also cure the tiger's depression, stabilize the lion's mood, and hook up the ringmaster with some real good shit. We spent 5000 dollars to try an experimental ketamine treatment that insurance didn't cover at all. I've done ECT. I got desperate enough that I tried to turn to religion, I went to a Catholic church just because it was the only denomination open at 3 PM on a Tuesday and I sat in that pew and I prayed for an hour that God would send me someone, just that someone would sit down and say "you seem troubled, child" and nobody fucking came. Then one night I prayed so hard I literally cried, begging God to send me something, some kind of sign, literally anything, to keep going, and the next day my cat knocked over one of my decks of tarot cards and every single card fell face down except the death one. So. There's that. That's only one thing left that I haven't tried, and that's where they're going to take my blood and then sequence my DNA and try and figure out what medication my body would react best to, and I hope that it works because I've been struggling with suicidal ideation since I was 6 and... even if I am a phoenix, I'm getting real fucking tired of rising from the ashes. Everything we've tried is just a fucking cul-de-sac of misery. I have fallen into this rut and I can't get unstuck and this is the worst I've ever felt in my entire life, I'm upset and angry at everything from my grandpa, for dying before I was before so I never got any memories of him, to my cat for not letting me eat in peace, but none moreso than at myself for feeling this way when it is absolutely no one's fault that any of this is happening. The only peace I know is when I'm in a heavily medicated sleep and I can dream all night of freedom but then I wake up but I never wake up free. If you cannot relate to this, then I sure hope you pick a deity and thank them for your luck.

So, what does any of that have to do with the format of this blog changing?

Well, it's simple. I'm not funny anymore. There were times I had 200+ posts in my queue. Right now I have less than 80.

Sometimes, I still have some spark of inspiration (though most of the time it's really more my brother just made another stupid video edit) but the fact of the matter is that I'm just... I'm not producing anything worth a damn thing at the rate things have been posting. This is the only thing I can try to do to make it last a little bit longer while I hope for a miracle because every second of every day I am in pain, it hurts just being awake, like, I am in an agony that most of you probably can't even fathom.

And, well, if it gets to eighty days from now, and there's no more posts, and no more updates... Well, you'll know what happened. I hope you also know that I'm sorry that I couldn't step out of the shadow of my great catastrophe, but I also hope you know that I really, really did try my goddamn hardest.

#housekeeping #tw mental health #Youtube

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salvenged · 2 years

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𝚂𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙼𝚄𝚂𝙴. 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ... ( ft. William )

never meant to know. tally hall.

Woke up today with the lay of the land Feather in cap and the sun in the sand It was easy, it was easy to understand Everything suddenly falls out of sight Every attachment is made of the light That you offered, you have offered to give me life

This is a song that not only relates to him ( in my opinion ) but is a song he would have listened to in his younger years. Humble beginnings. Mr. Emily used to be a very bright, warm and creative man. Artist through and through. Being able to connect with someone who was equally as creative and with such a strong business mindset to boot was wonderful. Of course, he didn’t see those red flags just yet.

See the sky and all the land together again See the way the earth can stay below Who do we think we are? Everything plays a part There are some things we are never meant to know

The final line gives me a lot of insight to Henry’s view on the world. He holds a lot of respect for the beauty of life, of the human experience, hence his love for stories. “Who do we think we are?” calls to how humbled he is by his place in it all. He is pleasantly comforted by the fact that while nothing lasts forever, it is in human nature to see the markings of others before them and wonder and love.

Where it seems like William craves to -- demands to understand the very essence and reason for this world. Henry on the other hand would have been perfectly content with the understanding that there are just some things in this universe he was never meant to know. And he would have liked to keep it that way...

Having enjoyed all the meat from the bone Is perfectly equal to being alone It was even, but you breathe and I turn to stone Everything suddenly looks like a sign Easy to see from the outermost clime I believe in what I leave in the way behind

As time goes on, Henry starts to notice things in William. Red flags and things that he should take care to note on his way out. But he stays, he stays because he wants to believe that if he looks past that William will become someone better. Of course, this never happens.

The last line here is a very well put explanation of how he views his life. What he’s leaving behind after him. He takes this into account towards the end of his story, perhaps too late but an ending is better than no end at all. He only hopes he can be forgiven for what he’s left behind in his wake.

no children. the mountain goats.

And I'd hope that if I found the strength to walk out You'd stay the hell out of my way I am drowning There is no sign of land You are coming down with me Hand in unlovable hand And I hope you die I hope we both die

Irony of the song title aside, this is raw Henry and William energy. Henry does not view himself to be much better than William. He knew what kind of person his friend was and cared for him too much to get rid of him. It was only after losing his daughter, those five children, that he had to put his foot down.

He’s thankful that William more or less stayed out of his way, because he’s not certain what he would have done if he came to him during his downward spiral.

All that remains of them is regret, if Henry is going down then William is coming down with him. Hand in unlovable hand. He truly meant it when he said he hopes they both die.

achilles come down. gang of youths. ( tw for alcoholism & suicide )

You crazy-assed cosmonaut, remember your virtue Redemption lies plainly in truth Just humor us, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

This gives me the feeling of Henry’s family, mostly his sister and wife, calling to him hoping he would step back from the metaphorical ledge they saw him on.

Hurt and grieve but don't suffer alone Engage with the pain as a motive

“Engage with the pain as a motive” is the best way to describe his arc from spiraling delusion, to rage, to eventually stepping back into the story and being the one to send William to hell. “Hurt and grieve but don’t suffer alone.” is another line that feels like his family reaching out to him.

Achilles, Achilles, just put down the bottle Don't listen to what you've consumed It's chaos, confusion and wholly unworthy Of feeding and it's wholly untrue You may feel no purpose nor a point for existing It's all just conjecture and gloom And there may not be meaning, so find one and seize it Do not waste yourself on this roof

Henry was lost to himself, not in the bottom of a bottle ( like William ) but in his work. His attempt to bring Charlie back via the mind-chip, the android body. He poured his love into that android, what a pity then that Elizabeth was the one to suffer having all that rage and grief to bear from her own father and Henry.

Either way, this is the line that I feel like is the catalyst for Henry getting onto the “right path” again. He steps back into the story after finding a meaning to cling to, a goal to achieve, something to accomplish. Not feeding the heavy thoughts that weight on him. As if losing his daughter, wife and son was not enough after his best friend destroyed what they built --- there is also the fact that some people suspected him to be the killer as well.

You want the acclaim, the mother of mothers (it's not worth it, Achilles) More poignant than fame or the taste of another (don't listen, Achilles) But be real and just jump, you dense motherfucker (you're worth more, Achilles) You will not be more than a rat in the gutter (so much more than a rat) You want my opinion, my opinion you've got (no one asked your opinion) You asked for my counsel, I gave you my thoughts (no one asked for your thoughts) Be done with this now and jump off the roof (be done with this now and get off the roof) Can you hear me, Achilles? I'm talking to you I'm talking to you I'm talking to you I'm talking to you Achilles, come down Achilles, come down

The crescendo of heavy thoughts in his last moment, after he had done all he could. It was the plan from the beginning, only ever existing long enough to try and right his wrongs. To do what he should have done all those years ago.

The back and forth, the struggle between his own self loathing pushing him to end it. And the obligation, the belief that he is worth more, he must be. He cannot be afforded this little death yet, not until William is cold and dead in the ground and burning for eternity in his own personal Hell.

as the world caves in. matt maltese

My feet are aching And your back is pretty tired And we've drunk a couple bottles, babe And set our grief aside

This song starts out very strong with Henry and William energy to me personally. It’s not that there’s love there, but they’re both so tired and with so much history. Maybe not drunk but the building is burning, it’s the end of everything. They’re both aware of it in the moments leading up to their subsequent demises.

We're gonna nuke each other up boys 'Til old Satan stands impressed

They’re striking out against each other. Have been since their falling out. That kind of vitriol has consumed Henry, made him bitter and of course justifiably so. But that doesn’t make his hatred any less poison to him.

We creep up on extinction I pull your arms right in I weep and say goodnight, love While my organs pack it in

And here it is, our final night alive And as the earth burns to the ground

Oh, it's you that I lie with As the atom bomb locks in Yes, it's you I welcome death with As the world, as the world caves in

Like I said before, no love. Maybe something bordering on an old attachment. They are both just too tired to do much else. Henry waits for his end, it doesn’t matter what William does to him if he does find him. It won’t change anything, there was never any escape planned for him to begin with. William can kill him if he wants, it’s what Henry wants too. Or they can just sit beside each other, consumed by the inevitability of it all. Silent. Because what else is there to say? This is the end. The end of this story, of their world. He is too tired to do anything but wait.

walk away. tom waits.

There are things I've done I can't erase I want to look in the mirror see another face I said, "never", but I'm doing it again I wanna walk away, start over again

I left my bible by the side of the road Carve my initials in an old dead tree I'm going away but I'm going to be back when It's time to walk away and start over again

This one is pretty self explanatory, short and simple. I also think Henry enjoyed this genre of music so it’s fitting in more than one way! I’ve talked about Henry’s guilt before but he most certainly shares in the burden and remorse of the lost souls. He wants to start over, to rest, to no longer carry all of this with him when he awakens. To shed this old story for something else would be ideal.

There is not much else he can do but wait for his turn to be at peace, to earn it. Maybe then he can be free of all the things that haunt him when he looks in the mirror. The “things he can’t erase”

#arghgh like ALL of these have william connections #but with muses like henry and will it's kind of hard not to have that #they're so intertwined bc of their stories #╰ headcanon. henry e. [...] ❛ 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘴. ❜#╰ study. henry e. [...] �� ❛ 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ❜

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ineffablebffs · 3 years

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1. A Better Son/Daughter by Rilo Kiley

Your ship may be coming in

You're weak but not giving in

To the cries and the wails of the valley below

And your ship may be coming in

You're weak, but not giving in

You'll fight it, you'll go out fighting all of them

(You'll be better

You'll be smarter and more grown up

And a better daughter or son)

2. Wake Up by Arcade Fire

Somebody filled up

My heart with nothing

Somebody told me not to cry

But now that I'm older

My heart's colder

I can see that it's a lie

3. Everything is Alright by The Glorious Sons

I'm the closest thing my mother had to a daughter

I used to be ashamed of that but now I'm kind of flattered

I learn that my weakness is a weapon anyway

So I haven't touched a pretty thing in forty days

4. The Mother We Share by CHVRCHES

Come in misery, where you can seem as old as your omens

And the mother we share

Will never keep your proud head from falling

The way is long, but you can make it easy on me

And the mother we share

Will never keep our cold heart from calling

5. BLOODMONEY by Poppy

I know what it feels like

To have my soul sucked out of my body

I finally know what it feels like

To be dead

Your soul can't be saved from the sins you've ignored

And the devil is well aware he is adored

Never forget the excess of a man

Because the grabbing hands always grab what they can

6. Video Game by Sufjan Stevens

I don’t wanna be the center of the universe

I don’t wanna be a part of that shame

In a way, I wanna be my own redeemer

I don’t wanna play your video game

I don’t care if everybody else is into it

I don’t care if it’s a popular refrain

I don’t wanna be a puppet in a theater

I don’t wanna play your video game

7. Rebellion (Lies) by Arcade Fire

People say that your dreams

Are the only things that save ya

Come on baby in our dreams,

We can live our misbehaviour

(Come on hide your lovers

Underneath the covers)

8. Reasons I Drink by Alanis Morissette

I have been working since I can remember, since I was single digits

Now, even though I've been busted

I don't know where to draw the line 'cause that groove has gotten so deep

And nothing can give reprieve like they do

Nothing can give a break for this soldier like they do

9. Black Sheep by Metric

Hello again

Friend of a friend, I knew you when

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick, the past again

I'll send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time

Everyone, ooh

Pulls away, ooh

From you

10. Young and Menace by Fall Out Boy

We've gone way too fast for way too long

And we were never supposed to make it half this far

And I lived so much life, lived so much life

I think that God is gonna have to kill me twice

(Oops I did it again

I forgot what I was losing my mind about)

11. Red Heart by Hey Rosetta!

Were you born a closed book,

Full of secret lines? (and bound so tight)

Or did you learn to lock it,

As not to break your spine? (oh! you were bound so tight)

Cause you shut up

And you're all shut inside

12. Gay is Not A Synonym For Shitty by Fall Out Boy

I've loved everything about you that hurt

So let me see your moves, let me see your moves

Lips pressed close to mine

True blue

But the prince of any failing empire knows that

Everybody wants, everybody wants

To drive on through the night if it's a

Drive back home

13. Combat Baby by Metric

I want to be wrong but

No one here wants to fight me like you do

Combat baby come back baby

Fight off the lethargy

Don't go quietly

Combat baby

Said you would never give up easy

Combat baby come back

14. It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking it Must be Love by Fall Out Boy

All the ways you make my stomach turn

And all the long drives

With my friends blur

And I wish I kept them inside my mind

I hide behind these words

(But I'm coming out)

15. Ivy by Frank Ocean

I thought that I was dreamin' when you said you loved me

The start of nothin', I had no chance to prepare

I couldn't see you comin'

The start of nothin', ooh, I could hate you now

It's quite alright to hate me now

But we both know that deep down

The feeling still deep down is good

16. Blue Eyes by Mika

Your heart is broken

To your surprise

You're sick of crying

For blue eyes

(Come, sorrow is so peculiar

Comes in a day, then it'll never leave you)

17. The Fault in Our Stars by Troye Sivan

The weight

Of a simple human emotion

Weighs me down

More than the tank ever did

The pain

It's determined and demanding

To ache, but I'm OK

(You lost

A part of your existence

In the war against yourself)

18. Happy Ending by Mika

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life

Can't get no love without sacrifice

If anything should happen, I'd guess I wish you well

Mm, a little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell

(This is the way you left me

I'm not pretending

No hope, no love, no glory

No happy ending)

19. In Our Bedroom After the War by Stars

Wake up, say good morning to

That sleepy person lying next to you

If there's no one there, then there's no one there

But at least the war is over

20. Love Love Love by The Mountain Goats

Some things you'll do for money and some you'll do for fun

But the things you do for love are going to come back to you one by one

Love love is going to lead you by the hand

Into a white and soundless place

Now we see things as in a mirror dimly

Then we shall see each other face to face

~BONUS TRASH TRACKS~

21. The Archers Bows Have Broken by Brand New

What did you learn tonight?

You're shouting so loud, you barely joyous, broken thing

You're a voice that never sings, is what I say

You are freezing over hell

You are bringing on the end, you do so well

You can only blame yourself, it's what I say

22. All-American Boy by Steve Grand

Ripped jeans, only drinks whiskey

I find him by the fire while his girl was getting frisky, oh...

I say we go this road tonight

He smiles, his arm's around her

But his eyes are holdin' me, just a captive to his wonder, oh...

I say we go this road tonight

#spn #playlist #music #this is the dean playlist #suicide tw for the mountain goats song #in black sheep i kept thinking send you my love on a wire #was like prayer #and yeah all of MANIA is deancas #i made both playlists without using Church and you should be proud of that #i was like is there too much fob?#then i was like haha not for cariño #Spotify #also i went into the VAULT for this #it is like half the same playlist i would have made in college about this #it is like half of the same playlist i would have made in high school about anything

0 notes

racebox-of-higgars · 3 years

Text

Why Was I Not Cut Out For The Task?

The final (at the moment) fic in the “Unkindest Cut Of All” series.

MAJOR SUICIDE TW - DO NOT READ IF THIS COULD BE TRIGGERING FOR YOU. Please stay safe, and my DMs are always open if you need to talk.

Summary: "Spot slumped onto the couch, cradling the jacket against his chest as he finally let the tsunami past its barriers and everything came over him at once, wave after wave of unrestrained, gasping sobs that wouldn’t let him come up for air, not once. Each one hurt more and more than the last, as tears flowed down his face, hot and unrelenting."

Spot finds out that Race is gone, and does his best to cope.

Based on the poem "Straw House, Straw Dog" by Richard Siken, with some influence from the song No Children by The Mountain Goats. Title from Turtles All The Way Down by Sammy Copley.

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31475210

@angelslibrary

It had been two days since Spot had last heard from Race. “You can sleep now.” That was the last message he had received. If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t have been worried, but this was Race, who spammed him with 47 texts a minute at the best of times, but all he got was radio silence. So the fear slowly sank in, settling deep in the pit of his stomach and staying there, something he was only vaguely aware of at the edges of his consciousness. It crept in, until it became all he could think about.

Yesterday: 11:32am

You: Race, you okay?

Yesterday: 1:56pm

You: Can you just text me back? Let me know you’re okay? I want to talk to you about something.

Yesterday: 4:23pm

You: I’ll tell you now. I’m going to come out to my parents, and our friends. You won’t have to hide anymore

Yesterday: 11:18pm

You: Goodnight Racer, I love you

Today: 3:36am

You: Tony, I’m really fucking worried now. Please just tell me you’re okay

Today: 3:37am

You: Tony please

Today: 3:37am

You: Tony?

Today: 10:55am

You: Sorry for blowing you up last night. Are you alright?

You: 7 unanswered calls

Tony wasn’t answering. He wouldn’t pick up the phone. Why wouldn’t he pick up? He hadn’t even been online, which was out of character, since Race could nearly always be found endlessly scrolling Instagram or TikTok. Something was incredibly wrong, but Spot could not work out what, so instead he just sat there, going over every possible bad thing that could’ve happened and praying none of it was true as he couldn’t do anything but wait.

At around 2pm, just as Spot was getting ready to send yet another text, a knock sounded at his door. He half expected to see Race standing on the other side (he had a habit of showing up unannounced), but not Jack. He definitely didn’t expect to see Jack Kelly at his doorstep, with no warning, no reason to be there.

See, he and Jack had never gotten along well once. At best, they tolerated each other, at worst, they beat the shit out of each other. They tried to stay relatively civil for Race’s sake, but that didn’t mean that they had to actually like one another. They had a mutual agreement to not kill each other as long as it would make Race happy. That’s just how they worked.

“Why are you here? Where’s Race, he hasn’t answered me in days?” Jack’s face fell and he almost broke there and then, but he schooled his features into something carefully apathetic.

“I’ll explain, I just- you might want to sit down.” Spot frowned, but sat down on the sofa, whole body tense as the fear crept in again. Jack sat opposite him and set down the bag he had been carrying beside him.

Jack looked oddly serious, which was too out of character for Jack for it to go unnoticed.

“What’s going on?” Spot asked. Jack pulled a folded piece of paper out of the bag and handed it to Spot silently. Spot frowned in confusion as he unfurled it, eyes scanning over Race’s looping scrawl.

Spot. I want to open this by saying that I love you, and I’m sorry.

I’m sorry we could never have that future that you wanted. I’m sorry for tearing everything apart, over and over and over.

Spot shut down. He didn’t scream or cry or throw things, he was just unsettlingly silent. The pain crashed over him in waves, each one stronger than the last, but still, he couldn’t cry. He was just numb as his world came tumbling down around him. He seemed to collapse in on himself, as his shoulders slumped and his whole body seemed to cave in with the weight of the world. His hands trembled slightly as he kept reading.

You’re everything to me. I need you to know that. I know that I’m unlovable, I have for a while, but you made me forget that for a beautiful, fleeting moment. For the first time in my life I felt worthy of love, and it was because of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that. You gave me some of my best memories and feelings and you are unattainable and you have a million reasons to throw me aside but you don’t, for some illogical reason that I can’t fathom, and there will never be the words to describe how I feel about you. Just know that I love you beyond what should be possible.

Spot was completely numb as his eyes scanned the words on the page without actually reading them. He took nothing in, he couldn’t. He couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t speak. Cold hands seemed to wrap around his throat, squeezing tightly as it stole his breath. Fuck, he couldn’t breathe. He couldn't do anything but stare at the words in front of him as they swum through his blurred vision. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK. Everything was spinning and falling apart around him and there was nothing he could do to stop it or try to hold everything together. There was no putting this back together.

I am drowning, Spot, and there’s no sign of land. I was crashing and burning and bringing you down with me, hand in unlovable hand. I’m sorry for hurting you in all of this. This isn’t how it was supposed to end, but it was inevitable.

Y’know, our friends always say that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, just hold on, but I think they’re wrong. There is no light at the end of my tunnel. It just gets darker and darker and darker with no escape. This was my only escape, and I’m sorry it came to this. There was nothing else for me to do. It should never have ended like this, it wasn’t supposed to, but I couldn’t stop it. I wish things were different and we could’ve had forever.

Spot couldn’t help but think about the life they had planned, down to the most meticulous details. He had never thought it would happen exactly as they had talked about, that seemed impossible. All the best laid plans get torn apart anyway, but he hadn’t expected them to get torn apart in this way. He thought they would at least have a future.

There are a million things I could say here, but they would all be cliche, and I know you find those disgusting so I’ll keep this short. I love you. I love you so fucking much and I’m so sorry that things had to end this way. I’ll never stop loving you, I will until I can’t anymore. I hope that I’ll get to see you again someday, but until then, please know that I love you so fucking much, I always will.

Spot didn’t know what to do. Everything spun around him. He felt sick as the ground shifted under his feet and everything was just off-kilter and he couldn’t think or breathe or do anything but sit there and read the words that made him sick to his stomach.

I want you to have my jacket. I hope that someday you’ll have the courage to wear it.

I love you,

Tony.

The note slipped from Spot’s hand as he stared blankly at the air where it had been. Jack pulled Race’s jacket out of the bag and handed it to Spot.

“He- uh- he wanted you to have this,” Jack said, utterly out of his depth, with no idea what to say or do. All he knew is that they were going through the same loss, the same pain, with no way out. Spot took it from him, holding it gently, as if it were made of glass. It still smelled like Race.

“I’d like to be alone, please,” he said, voice hoarse with the difficulty of holding back an ocean.

“Are you sure that’s for the best?” Jack asked, brows furrowed with concern. He never thought he would be worried for Spot Conlon, but he also never thought something like this would happen.

“Leave me the fuck alone, Kelly!” Spot shouted. Jack held his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay. Just- text me if you want to talk? Please?”

“Get the fuck out.” Jack took that as a no.

Spot slumped onto the couch, cradling the jacket against his chest as he finally let the tsunami past its barriers and everything came over him at once, wave after wave of unrestrained, gasping sobs that wouldn’t let him come up for air, not once. Each one hurt more and more than the last, as tears flowed down his face, hot and unrelenting.

He didn’t know how long he cried for, but he couldn’t cry anymore. Now he just felt empty, hollow. His head hurt with the force of his sobs and his chest hurt from trying desperately just to breathe, but that wouldn’t bring Race back. Nothing would. He was gone.

Spot’s days were monotone. Wake up, have a coffee, watch mindless TV to block out the screaming thoughts that clawed at his mind, dream. Wake up, have a coffee, watch mindless TV to block out the screaming thoughts that clawed at his mind, dream. Wake up, have a- stop. He couldn't break the cycle. Over and over again the same things, as if he was going through the days on autopilot.

His dreams were the only thing that changed. Visions of memories, both good and bad - Race bathing in sunlight. Race’s tears mixing with the rain. Race dancing in the fields. Race collapsed at the bottom of some deep pit. Race’s eyes in the light of a bonfire, his head thrown back with laughter. Race about to burn. Race burning up (he seemed to smile from the centre of his fire). Race, Race, Race. He didn’t stop, didn’t leave Spot alone.

Spot remembered their last conversation. It was burned into his mind. Race, lying on his chest, tracing patterns on his collarbone.

“I want an adventure.” He had said. “I want to feel alive.”

“So have an adventure,” Spot answered. Race’s lips upturned into a cold, cold smile.

“Watch me, Spot. I’ll have the adventure of a lifetime.” He had the greatest adventure, the adventure to end a lifetime.

Every night was the same. Endless dreams, endless nightmares, endless visions of Race’s face and god all Spot wanted to do was reach out and touch him and know that he was there but every time he tried he disappeared in his arms. Spot was falling and falling and falling and Race couldn’t catch him because Race was dead.

Race had wanted to be cremated, so they cremated him and as Spot looked at the ashes he thought about the dream of Race smiling at him through the flames that consumed him. It was a sick sort of thing, really. They scattered the ashes in the wind by the sea. The sea like his eyes, alight with a fire gone out too soon. It was all too soon. Too much, too fast. They were too young to be feeling grief like this.

“I want an adventure.” Those words echoed over and over in Spot’s mind, the forlorn way Race had said them, as if longing for a childhood gone too soon. Spot thought them over, turning them over and over in his head before he came to his conclusion. He would have the adventure Race didn't get.

He found himself in the woods. Trees surrounded him, shrouding him from the outside world and birds sang from their nests. He ran through the trees, leaping over roots and straying from the beaten dirt path into unmarked territory. Birds flew from their nests as he passed and sticks and leaves crunched underfoot. He ran and he ran and he knew that Race wouldn’t be there to catch him if he stumbled, like the many times he had been before, but he didn’t care. His lungs burned, his legs burned, and Race was still smiling at him through the flames and this time Spot smiled back.

Spot had his adventure. It wasn’t the one he wanted, but it was the only one he was able to have.

Race was always there in some corner of his mind, like a fever Spot just couldn’t break, but he was learning to live with it. He was learning to live with the cold sweats and headaches and tremors, learning to live with the pain. It wasn’t going to go away, it never would, but he could learn to accept it as part of himself. Race would always be there, but his presence was one Spot could live with.

That didn’t make it any easier though. Spot couldn’t do anything. He was completely numb, no matter what he tried to make himself feel alive. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t do anything, it wasn’t like he wanted to anyway. He just lay there in bed, with Race’s jacket in his arms as the scent of Race overtook him and he listened to the blood pound in his eyes because that’s all he had the energy for. He tried to fix things, over and over, but there’s no fixing or bringing back the dead, and no matter how much Spot tried, Race was still dead, still gone.

He was dead, but still everywhere. Still hurt. Race tore everything in half. There was no putting it back together as Race burned it all down and Spot couldn’t rid himself of that nightmare, Race smiling back at him through the flames, a look in his eyes just like the one he had when he had told Spot to, “Watch me.” It coaxed Spot in, and made him want to follow. With those slightly upturned lips and the flames dancing in his eyes, who wouldn’t want to follow him? But Spot couldn’t, he knew he couldn’t.

Even so, he held onto that jacket like a lifeline. It was all he had left. The one thing he hadn’t lost to those cruel, merciless flames. It was the only thing that made him think, I don’t have to follow. I’ll wait. I have this piece of Race to keep me here, Race wouldn’t have given it to me otherwise. He could hold on, as long as he had this part of Race to keep him here. It was a choice, really. Follow Race, or try to make some good out of the worst situation possible. Whichever one takes over, whichever one you feed, that would decide how the rest of Spot’s life would go. He could maybe do something good with this. He looked at the jacket, and he knew Race had left it to him for a reason, he had wanted Spot to find the courage in himself to be out and proud.

He still couldn’t wear it, though.

He had to do something. Everything was slowly becoming too much. Spot stood in the rain as it slammed the pavement, soaking his skin, soaking his clothes, freezing him to the bone but he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He felt alive as he stood out there, for the first time in months since Race had gone. He had thought it was getting easier to wake up each day, but it hadn’t. He hadn’t felt alive in so long, it was a shock to his system. He let the rain seep through his clothes and relished in the way he shivered against the bitter cold and the sky was black with thick, dark clouds and there was nothing but him, the sky, and the never ending rain.

The rain gave way to snow.

Had it been a year already? Spot stood under the fire-coloured sky as the snow came down around him in a sheet of pearlescent white. He wrapped Race’s jacket tighter around himself, inhaling Race’s scent that had mostly faded or given way to his own, despite how much Spot had tried to preserve it. It had taken a year, one of rain and blue skies (like Race’s eyes, Spot couldn’t help but think) and terrible storms and snow, but Spot had finally found it within himself to wear the jacket. The pride pins glistened proudly under the cold winter sunlight, and Spot’s courage surged. They were all so very Race, wearing the jacket made him feel as though Race was right there with him, holding his hand through everything. Spot smiled.

#suicide tw #sprace #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #newsies #racetrack higgins #spot conlon #jack kelly #newsies fanfiction #fanfiction #angst

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hydra-collector · 4 years

Text

Lost Without You, Half Dead

AO3

Ship: Anxceit

Characters: Janus Sanders, Virgil Sanders

TW: suicide attempt, self-harm, blood

Words: 1207

Summary: janus keeps virgil alive.

Note: title from the song "half dead" by the mountain goats. it was the first thing i thought of and it mostly fits ok

Virgil hovered his finger over the call button.

On one hand, he didn’t want to die without a note. On the other, Janus despised him.

Their friendship had ended… badly. Both of them had said things they regretted, things got a little personal and… it ended there.

Right when Virgil hoped it could’ve been something more.

He supposed that was partially the reason he’d dumped out a container of painkillers in his hand. That and the fact that he was nearly failing college, hadn’t had a real friend besides Janus since sixth grade, struggled to pay rent each month, and he’d been looking lovingly at bottles of bleach ever since he learned they could kill him.

Should he tell Janus what he was going to do?

The phone buzzed, his… friend picking up quickly as usual, despite his anger with him.

“What do you want, Virgil?”

“Mostly, to apologize. I’ve been shitty and said shitty things and you didn’t deserve that. I don’t know why I called you, it’s not like you care, I just needed to- needed to tell someone that I’m gonna be gone.”

“Gone where?”

Virgil’s mouth faltered, a lump forming in his throat.

“Gone where, Virgil?”

“Gone- gone forever.”

“If you don’t fucking wait for me to get to your apartment, I actually won’t forgive you. Don’t fucking try anything. You got that? You wait for me to get there or I’ll tell everyone what you tried to do, because you’re not gonna fucking die, and I’ll stop whatever you try to do, because I know you don’t have anything that can kill you that quickly, so you’ll be alive and left with whatever residue from your method, so you’re gonna fucking wait, okay?”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m the closest thing to a friend you’ve got.”

Janus wasn’t far. His own apartment was only a few blocks from Virgil’s, and he was a fast runner. It didn’t matter how many people he weirded out, he wasn’t letting Virgil do anything.

“What do you have?”

“Painkillers. Maybe if I take them now, I’ll have a chance.”

“I’ll have to make you vomit.”

“I don’t care about the goddamn discomfort, bitch. I’m willing to risk a little vomit if it means I get out of this place.”

He wasn’t sure where Janus was, which worked in his friend’s favor. By the time he heard the faint clicking of pills and Virgil’s “goodbye,” he was already dashing up the stairs.

“Get out, Jan. You don’t really care.”

“Up Virgil. Over to the toilet.”

He pulled him from his position on the floor, dragging him in front of the toilet. He made him vomit himself, pressing his finger to the back of Virgil’s tongue as he resisted. He squirmed, trying to get free, but Janus held tight.

“God, why didn’t you let me fucking die? It’s not like you care, like you ever cared. At least let this fucking stop, let me die and have no friends if you never liked me.”

“I am never going to let you die. I don’t care how miserable you are now, I’ve seen you happy and we both know it can happen again. Don’t give me any of the bullshit about ‘no one loves me’ because I know someone who does and it’s me, the person you brought here, so I think maybe that’s who you'd appreciate it from.”

“You were all I had! You were all I had and you left, I left, I lost that person who maybe fucking loved me because I’m a fucking piece of shit.”

“I’m here. What you have now is someone who loves you as much as a hundred people could. I haven’t told you, haven’t shown you enough of that, maybe you wouldn’t have felt so awful, so alone. I can’t help caring for you, even when I should hate you, when I should feel hurt. It’s disgusting how much I love you, it’s gross how I- how I want-”

Virgil’s lips collided with Janus’s, tears streaming down his face, his hands grasping his neck. They both stumbled towards the wall, Janus’s back pressed up against it. He wrapped his arms around Virgil’s waist, pulling him close. The stayed there for what felt like forever before Virgil broke it, letting his hands slip down to rest on Janus’s waist.

“You taste like vomit.”

“Fuck you.”

“Seriously, though, your first instinct after we break up as friends, I come to your house and save you from killing yourself is to kiss me?”

“To be fair, you were really fucking hot and saying gross romantic shit.”

“God, this is so much like us, isn’t it?”

“Now if you’ll excuse me while I wash the taste of vomit out of my mouth,” he said, pushing Virgil away.

“Oh, aren’t you going to hug and comfort me now? And I’m the one who vomited.”

“Yeah, but you kissed me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“...You literally made me vomit.”

“I didn’t have a choice, you’d just fucking swallowed twenty Aspirins.”

“...Well, while I wait for you, I’m gonna bury myself under the covers and cry some more.”

“At least rinse out your damn mouth.”

“God, fine.”

Janus joined him on the couch, limbs intertwining underneath a mountain of blankets. Virgil talked and talked about everything that had happened, and all Janus did was listen.

#sanders sides #anxceit #virgil sanders #janus sanders #ts virgil #ts janus #tw suicide attempt #tw medicine #tw vomit #tw bold #grays fics #assume all of these fics are gonna be queued ones #i might have intrulogical tomorrow

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remade-stopframevevo · 3 years

Text

ermmmmm tw suicide+discussion of etika 😓

i remember back in march in 2019 i listened to palmcorder yajna a lot after hearing one of my friends from my old highschool who was only 16 took her own life at a very local place i have to go by every now and then, and i listened to it constantly you know - to cope, even though id barely ever listened to it before and barely knew it existed, and then only like 3 months later i wake up and the first thing i see on my phone is the announcement of desmonds death so it was just like, ok here we go again *pulls out the trusty mountain goat song*. also i remember on january 1st 2020 out of god damn nowhere i think after not thinking about them in a while the only thoughts i could get through my head at like 12:30 in the morning was “i wish desmond and kate were here to see this”

#anyway though *opens 6th pepsi can of the day*#it was the same thing with the sans smash announcement wrt des. god he would've gone insane

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thecreaturecrossroads · 3 years

Text

GENERAL

name: Caoimhe Maeve Aisling

alias(es): Keeva, Young Keeva, Keevy(Do NOT call her this! Ever!)

gender: Female. She/Her

age: 500+

date of birth: September 21

place of birth: A liminal space out in the Scottish Highlands

hometown: Oaken Castle, Mount Eyrie, Liminal Border

spoken languages: Fae Common, High Draconian, Common Selkie, Irish/Welsh/Scottish/British Gaelige. Common Demonic. Mountain Dwarfish, Common Elfish. Frost Fae Common and more.

sexual preference: Pansexual, Demiromantic

occupation: Ruler of Mount Eyrie, Guardian of the Last Gates

APPEARANCE

eye color: Golden

hair color: Medium-Dark Brown and White

height: Between 5′5 and as tall as she feels like being.

scars: A bullet wound scar over just above her heart, Various knife wounds on her body as well as talon marks.

burns: Light burn marks on her hands from touching Iron.

over weight: Yes.

under weight: Why?.

FAVOURITE

color: Aqua, Turquoise, Sage Green, Royal Green.

hair color: Black/ Silvery Blue/ Red

eye color: Eh.

song: The name of it doesn’t translate well into Human English.

movie: What?

tv show: What’s that?

food: Wild Boar, Pheasant soup, Blackberries, Meat Pie, Chocolate anything. Honey Anything.

drink: Hard Honey Apple Cider or Mead. Moon Peach cider, Elderberry Wine, Current Wine.

book: She can’t pick just one.

HAVE THEY

passed university: She was a Midwife and a doctor for a long time so yes.

had sex: Yes.

had sex in public: Yes.

gotten pregnant: No.

kissed a boy: Yes.

kissed a girl: Yes.

gotten tattoos: No

gotten piercings: Yes.

had a broken heart: Yes.

been in love: Yes

stayed up for more than 24 hours: Yes.

ARE THEY

a virgin: No.

a cuddler: Hell yes

a kisser: Yes.

scared easily: No.

jealous easily: Not Typically.

trustworthy: Generally.

dominant: Depends on the situation. But in general? Yes.

submissive: Again, depends on the situation, but Rarely.

in love: No.

single: Yes.

RANDOM QUESTIONS (tw for self harm/suicide mention)

have they harmed themselves: On accident.

thought of suicide: Yes.

attempted suicide: No.

wanted to kill someone: Yes.

drove a car: No.

have/had a job: Yes.

have any fears: Yes. Cages, Cats. Lowkey fear of Fire. Losing anymore lovers and loved ones.

FAMILY

sibling(s): 3 Siblings. 2 Older sister’s and a younger Brother.

parents: Jean Mairi and Gavin Donnchadh(Keeva just calls him that Dead B@st@rd)

children: None

pets: Fae Dogs. Many of them. And of different breed types as well. Winter Moon Moths, Fae Sheep and Goats. She keeps Bees as well.

Swiped from: @magioffire

Tagging: @distoretion

#About Caoimhe #About Keeva #Think I might do Puck and Cairi #And maybe Val and Candice

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flamingo-queen-writes · 4 years

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Tagged~

Tag 9 (or however many, I guess) folks you'd like to get to know better.

@cptnsambucky tagged me (thank you!!), so here goes nothing! (Gonna try for short answers this go around, haha!)

Top 3 ships: (limited them to MCU this time)

a. Barbershop Quartet b. Winterhawk c. All Caps

I'm using abc and not 123, though, because I don't have an actual ranking in mind for them. I just really like these particular combinations of dynamics. I think my ideal MCU ship might actually be a combination of the above with Bucky as a sort of central point and no one being jealous of anything or anyone.

Lipstick or Chapstick:

Like the look of lipstick, but I am a chapstick girl. I have three chapsticks in my purse because I keep forgetting I have one in there already. And one by the bed for when my lips are chapped at night. And one at my desk at work, one at my desk at home, one in the bag that holds the work laptop I haul back and forth during the week, and one that lives in my toiletry bag in case I forget one while traveling. I buy chapstick in boxes, not by the tube. Because there is no such thing as too much chapstick, and you might find a new place you need have chapstick at the ready.

(Also, what if you're in the mood for pomegranate and all you have on hand is coconut and peppermint? Those aren't the same thing at all. It's a totally different experience. You don't put peppermint on before bed--that's too invigorating. You need a nice plain chapstick for bedtime chapped lips, or maybe coconut. Save the pink lemonade for work because that's a zippy little kick, and keep the pomegranate and mango in your purse because there aren't many instances when you'd have your purse with you when those flavors aren't ideal, and put the peppermint on your desk at home because peppermint is a calm sort of invigorating, and that's good for getting shit done in a low-key long haul late into the night. And keep the abomination that is honey chapstick in the garbage where it belongs.)

Last Song:

The Mountain Goats, "Love Love Love"

Actually, a very gentle song coming from this artist. Not gentle lyrics, despite the title (seriously, tw suicide if you head off to listen to the song), but a very quiet and mellow tune, and he's not actually shouting at any point in the song. So.

Before this one, it was Golden Boy, which I absolutely love, and before that, it was Up the Wolves--another winner. There are a lot of winners from this artist.

Last Movie:

The Scarlet Pimpernel, the 1982 version.

Classic, brilliant, the very best of films. I could not put a number on the times I've seen this thing, because I used to watch it at least once a week for whole summers growing up. Sometimes, you're having an absolutely, utterly shit day, you feel like it's just you and the massive, uncaring universe that inexplicably hates you while simultaneously not giving a shit about you, and you need the visual equivalent of the comfort food you can't eat anymore. For me, this movie is that equivalent. I watched it twice last night.

Last Book:

When True Night Falls, by Celia S. Friedman.

Classic, brilliant, the middle book of the best trilogy to ever have been written. Fight me.

To avoid spoiling anyone who has not yet experienced this glorious work of art, I won't wax poetic about it in too much detail. But the character dynamics. The character growth--every fucking character grows beautifully and realistically and in ways that are sometimes a huge fist to the lower torso while reading, but it's earned. The world building. She starts out insanely strong with the world building in the first book, and this second one somehow manages to add even more depth than the first one did. But not in the "oh, I need x, so better add y to the rules" ass-pulling way. It's organic, it's logical, it springs from the first book like a natural expansion and not a bunch of shifting around or "oh, except that ___" changes for plot's sake.

The plot, the writing, everything. I accidentally read this trilogy (minus the last little bit of the third book that simply doesn't happen) every couple of years. Yes. Accidentally. See, I'll remember a scene from one of the books, and I'll go fetch the book and flip to that scene--I know where they all are, my copies are tattered and ancient--and then I'll look up and realize I've just kept on reading for hours. And by then, you might as well just finish the book, and if it's the first book, you should start at the beginning, and if it's one of the other two, you might as well go back to the start and do it proper.

Welp. Short answers totally happened. Oh well.

Tagging, even if you’ve already been tagged, so ignore if you wanna: @glitter-cake20 @sunshineailin @occulationary @eileenalone

#meta #tagged

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elementalheroneos · 4 years

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big tw for suicide

that mountain goat song made me kinda realize its so weird to be sitting here in 2020 not feeling suicidal and actually looking forward to things when there were several points in 2019 where i fully planned to kill myself and the first half of the year was spent basically waiting to die. i just. really did not think id make it this far and really didnt plan to and i guess im happy abt that just mostly just very startled by that realization

#x #this post isnt like sad or anything just #reflecting #.#1 #2 #suicide

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gumgutts · 2 years

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depression playlist

this is like, my personal depression playlist, tw for themes like self degradation, self loathing, suicide, ect, ill try to tag anything with further stuff like ‘parents’ or ‘father’, ect, let me know if theres other things i should tag or if i missed something, or even if u have a song to suggest. figure doing this is a positive outlet of my feelings instead of self harm and lol im doin my best. ill be putting (positive) next to ones that have a more positive feel to them, more about wanting to get away type stuff.(maybe ill just make a dif playlist if i think of enough sad positive type stuff, idk im not great with words.) ill edit/add to this over time rn its very incomplete as im struggling, but ill add the rest when i can. posted:3/13/2022 updated:6/25/2022 broken by lund (self harm/suicide) apathy of no one by lentra little prince by Andrew Jackson Jihad (positive) tell me why im okay by the frights (suicide) black dog by andrew jackson jihad(positive,you are my sunshine) leech boy by crywank (drug m) i am shit by crywank daddy didnt love me by andrew jackson jihad(father, csa m) only everyone can judge me by crywank A Soreness so Familiar by crywank It's Ok I Wouldn't Remember Me Either by crywank im not a good person by pat the bunny pineapple boy by authentic pines (drugs/alcohol) I Am in Great Pain, Please Help Me by crywank bullet by hollywood undead (alcohol, selfharm, suicide) the diary by hollywood undead (alcohol) the loss by hollywood undead (selfharm,suicide) help by pink guy(suicide, selfharm implied? idk) Hypocrite by WHALES•TALK (drugs) Hansel by sodikken (self harm, suicide) novocaine by the unlikely candidates (drugs drunk by the living tombstone (alcohol) lazy by the living tombstone) what i want by the living tombstone bad habits by fidlar (alcohol) 40oz on repeat by fidlar (alcohol) sober by fidlar (alcohol implied) no children by the mountain goats (alcohol) hate myself by NF how to never stop being sad by dandelion hands scars by dandelion hands

#music #playlist #depression #vent

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pinkpeccary · 7 years

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coping music recs

so i have been having a Sad Time lately and channeled those feelings into making a list of music i use to cope, which i figured i’d share in case anyone else wants it. these are some of my favorite musics, but some of them have potential triggers in them so be careful. (also if you’re concerned about triggers for them you can message me and i can detail more)

(tw: suicide, self harm, eating disorder, i think that covers it but lmk if it doesn’t)

Daughter - good for trauma feels. i like her for strong vibes of “i am hurt, i am damaged, i am broken”. some of my faves are:

Human (underneath this skin there’s a human / buried deep within there’s a human / despite everything i’m still human)

Landfill (and this is dangerous / cause i want you so much / but i hate your guts)

Youth (and if you’re still breathing, you’re the lucky ones / cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs)

Still (two feet standing on a principle / two hands longing for each other’s warmth / cold smoke seeping out of colder throats / darkness falling there’s nowhere to go)

Candles (blow out all the candles, blow out all the candles / you’re too old to be so shy / he said to me, so i stay the night)

Mother Mother - also good for trauma feels and just all around badfeels. wide variety of songs that cover many many aspects of mental illness, from depression to dissociation to eating disorders to dysphoria to suicide to etc etc etc. some faves:

Monkey Tree (i never went to your school / i learned in a monkey tree / so come into the jungle / where the drugs and the drinks are free)

Ghosting (you don’t need tricks and you don’t need treats / you don’t need tricks / you don’t need no Halloween / you don’t need tricks / you don’t need treats / and you don’t need me)

Little Pistol (i found brimstone in my garden / i found roses set on fire / and i found Jesus / what a liar / so i trade licks with the muddy waters)

The Stand (tell me your fears / okay it’s everyone here / you mean just all of the people / yeah and all of their peers)

O My Heart (and i throw my heart into the fi-ire / cause i want to set my heart on fi-ire / and i watch it try befriending embers / but the ice don’t melt in mid-December)

Body (take my hands, they’ll understand / take my heart, pull it apart / and take my brain, or what remains / and throw it all away)

Happy (ask me if i’m happy / what does it mean? / i’ll tell you that i am if you tell me i’m dreaming)

All Gone (i take a hammer and i break my legs / i break them for the better / the two of them were always walking me / into the stormy weather)

Arms Tonite (and hey, you / don’t you think it’s kinda cute / that i, died / right inside your arms tonight?)

I Go Hungry (i got a date on Friday / not gonna eat anything til then / i’m gonna look so skinny / she’ll wanna feel my bones against her skin)

ROAR - only has about 10 songs. hard to find if you don’t know the names of songs bc the generic band name, but good. interesting music bc it doesn’t have much repetition within the song, which is cool. kinda more like poetry. some faves:

Flightless Bird (means that never reach an end / that’s what you get for living in your head / you breathe 3 AM breath / and tell yourself that this is for the best)

The Comfort of a Laugh Track (why is it so hard to speak / to people, i don’t know / is it something that you learn / when constantly alone / when did i become a man / trapped inside a ghost?)

I Can’t Handle Change (nothing i do is ever good / nothing i do is ever good enough)

The Mountain Goats - i have a hard time describing what it is about them that i like so much. i’d guess it has to do with a general vibe of mistrust for the world, but like i’m gonna keep going because fuck you. also cause they’re fun, even when they’re serious. idk. some faves:

This Year (i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me / i am gonna make it through this year if it kills me)

No Children (i am drowning / there is no sign of land / you are coming down with me / hand in unlovable hand / and i hope you die / i hope we both die)

Pink and Blue (and what will i do with you? / pink and blue / true gold / nine days old)

Get Lonely (and i will find a crowd / and blend in for a minute / and i will try to find / a little comfort in it / and i will get lonely / and gasp for air)

The Fall of the Star High School Runningback (but selling acid was a bad idea / and selling it to a cop was a worse one / and new laws said that seventeen-year-olds could do federal time / you were the first one)

The Best Ever Death Metal Band out of Denton (if you punish a person for dreaming his dreams / don’t expect him to thank or forgive you)

Goo Goo Dolls - tbh a lot of this is nostalgia (although i didn’t grow up with them, the music style has that feel to it). i do think they’re good for coping in the sense that they feel protective, like being wrapped in a blanket. some faves:

Acoustic #3 (and you wonder where these dreams go / cause the world got in your way / what’s the point in all this screaming / no one’s listening anyway)

Iris (and you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming / or the moment of truth in your lies / when everything feels like the movies / yeah, you bleed just to know you’re alive)

Name (scars are souvenirs you never lose / the past is never far / and did you find yourself somewhere out there? / did you get to be a star? / don’t it make you sad to know that life / is more than who we are?)

Sympathy (and stranger than your sympathy / i take these things so i don’t feel / i’m killing myself from the inside out / and now my heads been filled with doubt)

Other Songs - these are all things i’ve found individually, idk about the artists in general but these ones are good

Island of the Misfit Boy - Front Porch Step (i stand in front of the mirror and look at myself / and i don’t make a sound but my eyes scream out help / and i start to struggle to hold myself back / from thrusting my head straight through the fucking glass)

Sarcasm - Get Scared (don’t mind us we’re just spilling our guts / if this is love i don’t wanna be loved / you pollute the room with your filthy tongue / watch me choke it down so i can throw it up)

This is the Best - Ubiquitous Synergy Seeker (i was feeling so inspired / by the state of my own execution / drop me cause i can’t let go)

Fallen Leaves - Billy Talent (in a crooked little town / they were lost and never found / fallen leaves, fallen leaves / fallen leaves on the ground)

Dead Hearts - Stars (i could say it but you won’t believe me / you say you do but you don’t deceive me / dead hearts are everywhere)

Girl With No Name - Jules Larson (i draw the blurriest lines / i never promised to stay / i am the girl with no name)

Into the Ocean - Blue October (let the waves up and take me down / let the hurricane set in motion / let the rain of what i feel right now come down)

Not Your Kind of People - Garbage (we are not your kind of people / speak a different language / we see through your lies)

#coping skills #music recs #ollie talks #pp

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jackjack-attacks-blog · 7 years

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[flicking lights on and off] welcome to hell! welcome to hell! a playlist for a descent into the underworld

//overall tw for death in the following songs of course, i’ll also put some other warnings in the commentary below.

1. god of ocean tides by counting crows

carry me south, to the sea/along with your memories of me/we were born in the water/now we'll return to Thee.

2. above the clouds of pompeii by bear’s den

we built our home out on the slopes/pompeii beneath, she lay above/how she haunted our home/how she haunted our home

3. love love love by the mountain goats

some things you do for money/and some you do for fun/but the things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one

4. song for zula by phosphorescent

some say love is a burning thing, that it makes a fiery ring/oh, but i know love as a caging thing/just a killer come to call from some awful dream

5. white teeth teens by lorde

their molars blinking like the lights/in the underpass where we all sit/and do nothing and love it/and everything works out so good/i wear the robe like no one could

6. are you satisfied? by marina and the diamonds

high achiever, don’t you see?/ baby, nothing comes for free/they say i’m a control freak driven by a greed to succeed/nobody can stop me.

7. arsonist’s lullaby by hozier

all you have is your fire/and the place you need to reach/don’t you ever tame your demons/always keep them on a leash

8. car radio by twenty-one pilots

i find over the course of our human existence/one thing consists of consistence/and it's that we're all battling fear/oh dear, I don't know if we know why we're here/oh my, too deep, please stop thinking/i liked it better when my car had sound

9. those you’ve known by spring awakening original cast

they call you/as if you knew their longing/they whistle through the lonely wind/the long blue shadows falling

10. both sides now by joni mitchell (cover; 2000 version from the album with the same name)

i've looked at life from both sides now/from win and lose and still somehow/it's life's illusions i recall/i really don't know life at all

Below the cut: Emma’s commentary!

First-- this is more of a general/personal playlist for a journey into the underworld because I still don’t know if my characters are going there. Apologies in advance for how long my rambling gets!!

So God of Ocean Tides starts us off because of the 1. water imagery 2. religious imagery 3. themes on cycles of life and death and 4. reflective nature. We’re following the river, thinking about our lives, reflecting on the way we related to people, because all of that is going to show up in our journey through the underworld. This song is a preview. Also, I know it is a RIVER not an OCEAN or a SEA but it’s water at least okay you can’t always get what you want.

Tw for themes of suicide on this one. Next we have Above the Clouds of Pompeii which is not only a song with some fun Roman Empire allusions (since Rome stole from Greece I am stealing from Rome.) This one is a nod to limbo, because of its death themes. I like the way the repetitive nature can kind of mirror the way the souls ~float around in a circle (most of my greek mythology knowledge comes from Hercules and Percy Jackson so I don’t know if this is accurate but yes repeating limbo circles yes. Additionally, this song starts to run into the Asphodel Meadows-- a life that has not achieved any glorious deeds, but has profoundly impacted someone (the speaker in this song).

Another tw for suicide/death on this one. Love Love Love takes us by the Elysian Fields and to the Gates of Judgment as we think about people who achieved fame and fortune, people heralded as heroes, and people who met more tormented ends. While this song is about love, it is also the things we do for love, and those things are not always pure, and they do not always end well. That’s where the Gates come in. Some of the downfalls of the characters in these songs-- greed, wrath, etc. come up later as themes as we proceed into the Stygian Marshes. And, of course, we’re headed into Lust territory next, so “love” is an apt transition.

Song for Zula takes us into Lust, where it is dark and you can only hear wailing for lost love. This song is not necessarily about lost love, but it is about the pain that love can cause. I also love the way the instruments sound like wailing in a way, though I’m sure they are much more pleasant-sounding than what you would hear in the Underworld.

Next is Greed, with White Teeth Teens. I feel like this song is a little different from the others-- it’s less atmospheric, in my opinion, which works well for Greed, because it’s not dark anymore and perhaps you thought it was going to be less creepy here. Wrong! It’s just creepy in a different way, which I think is also true of this song about the dark side of a glamorous life. I love how Lorde uses “white teeth teens” as a symbol of the rich, power, and popular because that shiny imagery works perfectly for those shiny treasures-- and bones-- you’ll see floating in the water as you ride through.

Gluttony shares some similarities with Greed, and Are You Satisfied? shares some similarities with White Teeth Teens both musically and lyrically. They are both about a desire for glamour, importance, and power. I believe that Are You Satisfied? focuses more on the means of achieving those things however, and that’s why I think it works well for Gluttony, where gluttonous souls fish treasure out of the marshes.

Is it even an underworld playlist if you don’t use Hozier at least once?? I like how Arsonist’s Lullaby continues the themes of ruthlessness that have developed over the past few songs, but this is the first one that actually gets violent. And violence is exactly what you will find in Wrath, with sea monsters that will flip your boat over. I love the deep tones in this song; they remind me exactly of what murky waters in hell would look like. And of course all of the fire imagery fits perfectly with the usual image of hell, or the Paradise Lost image of a sea of fire.

I don’t know if all of Car Radio’s lyrics work for the City of Dis, because the song is about silence causing your thoughts to go crazy, but it’s the most chaotic song I can think of and I think that part about your thoughts running wild works for the City of Dis. I mostly chose it for the way it starts out pretty even, but by the end, there is screaming. I feel like that’s how a trip into the City of Dis would go. And I do like the song ending exactly on the word “silence” because it transitions very nicely into Suicide.

Tw and spoiler alert (Spring Awakening) for suicide here. Creating this part of the playlist was interesting because The City of Dis is so loud and Suicide is so much quieter. I thought Those You’ve Known worked well here because of the images of departed souls singing to those still alive-- the song is mostly sang by the character Moritz, who commits suicide earlier in the show. It is much quieter and more atmospheric than Car Radio, and I like the way it marks the transition from the City of Dis to Suicide.

Aaaaand personally I would never venture beyond the gift shop so we’re not gonna have a Tartarus song nopenopenope. I wanted to put a funny gift shop song but I didn’t want to ruin my #aesthetic so here were some of the contenders:

Gives You Hell by All-American Rejects

Highway to Hell by ACDC

Surprise song

Finally I’m gonna round out the playlist with Both Sides Now, Joni Mitchell’s 2000 version, because it makes me emo. And I think that if you went on a journey through the underworld, you’d come back with a lot to ponder, and realize that maybe you didn’t understand the nature of life (or death) as well as you thought you had.

#i know i'm literally the most extra person on earth #i got INTO this OK #bdrptask

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