I think it's important to note that this isn't news: it's been going on for years and no one protected these girls. They all protected him, shushing the victims.
All these testimonies that are emerging online can't be part of a terf conspiracy, be for real: some of them are older, some could be fake or highly exaggerated, there's no way of knowing for sure. One thing is sure. More allegations will come.
Some of these are pretty graphic so take care.
(in the reblogs there's more screenshots of testimonies from people in the publishing world and fans, there's enough proof to say this was a consistent way of behaving around young fans and workers).
Content Warnings for Sam & Max (The Telltale Games)
Alright, I think it’s way past time for this even though I’ve only been in the fandom a few days. Whether you’re just curious about the games or really want to get into them, I think it’s important to create a list of some of the more common things that people could potentially be triggered/harmed by.
If I miss an important tag, please let me know by anonymous ask. I’ll be sure to take care of it as soon as I can.
List of potential triggering content for each season is under the read more tag.
All Three Games
Violence
Use of firearms/guns
Visible Organs at times
Sexual jokes
Occasional references to alcohol and drugs
Death
Deliberately gross food
Politics (specifically United States)
Sam & Max Save The World (season 1)
Important to note: When you play through this game, please play the remastered edition. This is the one I played, and has a lot less of the bad stuff.
Major themes:
Hypnosis / Mind Control / Brainwashing
Other potentially harmful content:
Unreality (episode 5)
Gambling (episode 3)
Paranoia
Kidnapping
Sam & Max: Beyond Time and Space (season 2)
Important to note: This game does not have a remaster as of the date I posted this (March 18, 2021) so none of the problematic content has been altered or removed. If you do decide to look at this game, watch a playthrough of it unless you really, truly want to experience the game for yourself.
Major issues:
Harmful, deliberately bad interpretation of a character with Tourette’s syndrome
Use of the 🍎🍐🍊🍓🍒 slur (only once, still bad.)
Only latine/specifically Mexican characters are portrayed as the Mariachi band stereotype, also considered the villains of the episode
Only canonically German character portrayed as a vampire
Other potentially harmful or triggering content:
Prominent religous theme (hell) in later episodes
Demons
Zombies
A gun is pulled on a child character
Public embarrassment / censored nudity
Sam & Max: The Devil’s Playhouse (season 3)
Major Themes:
Apocalypse
World Domination
Other potentially harmful or triggering content:
Depiction of the iron cross, on a plane, on a poster
Imagine Severus going to a muggle bar and meeting someone wonderful, absolutely shocked that someone bought him (HIM!) a drink and sat down next to him
Imagine Severus awkwardly flirting and blushing with the soft compliments. And when it came to his nose (picture that scene in a Star is Born), he was an absolute puddle. Of course he gave them his number, absolutely nervous and begging to hear from the stranger again.
Imagine how the dinner went, conversation flowing smoothly and him laughing at all of their jokes.
Imagine the movies and dinners, and walks in the park with a picnic.
The sex is amazing, and he hadn't felt so good in years. It definitely improved his mood.
Imagine him falling in love with this perfect person. All the students notice, he gives less detentions, actually starts giving people points. The catch him humming under his breath as he walks. And is that a smile? Who knew Snape had a great smile?
Then something changes. His partner starts ignoring him. Starts snapping and yelling at him (Severus was never good with yelling).
Imagine Severus blaming himself for all the mistakes and going above and beyond to be better. To be perfect.
Imagine how after a rough day with classes (fucking Neville and potions), he's tired. He forgot to do the dishes. He gets yelled at, screaming and harsh for his little mistake. Snape yells back.
Imagine his partner striking him across the face as he shouts. He freezes, grasping the red mark as his partner tells him, "Don't you ever fucking talk to me like that again! I'm the only one who could ever love you! I'll leave you and you'll be alone for the rest of your pathetic life!"
Imagine the tears pooling up in his dark eyes as he apologizes for yelling, begging his partner not to leave him. Please, he'll never yell again.
He doesn't heal the mark, and his partner would notice a glamour. As he's covering the new bruise with make up, his partner wraps their hands around his torso and he can't help but flinch.
Imagine the kiss on the back of his neck, "I'm so sorry, baby. I swear, it'll never happen again." Severus believes them and accepts the comfort as he tries not to cry on their shoulder. He comes home to a nice meal and they make love as his partner tells him how much he's loved.
It happens again.
It keeps happening.
The pep in his step is now gone. The students notice the lack of humming as he walks through the hall with his head down. He's glad most of the bruises are hidden by his robes.
His Slytherins start trying to find out what happened. They're the first to notice his changes.
Draco sees the smallest hint of a purple bruise on his professor's wrist when his sleeve slips.
He told his father. Lucius confronted him, asking to meet his lover, asking how he was treated.
Severus says things are going as expected but he has to leave.
Draco points it out in the common room after seeing another bruise. Pansy is the one to go to McGonagall. But there's no improvement.
The Hufflepuffs catch on very fast. You can always trust them to know when someone is upset and something is wrong. They voice their concerns to Professor Sprout.
The Ravenclaws were the first to say it was abuse. A Newt student of his straight up asked if his partner was abusing him. They got detention and Severus kicked her out of class. Of course their head of house knew instantly.
Gryffindor thought Snape was back to being a git. Nothing to it. Until that day when Neville exploded another cauldron and their professor had to get under the emergency shower. The entire class saw the black eye their professor tried to hide with his hand.
Harry snuck in and stole the picture of Professor Snape's partner. The students now had a face to the mysterious person. So did the professors.
They held an intervention in the Great Hall. Dumbledore used a very useful spell that Molly taught him to stick Severus to his seat. Severus was good, but he never stood a chance.
He couldn't bring himself to care when he broke down sobbing in the Great Hall. Everything flooded to the surface as he sobbed into Albus's ridiculous robes.
He was forced to the hospital wing where Poppy took great care of him. She also made him talk to a therapist.
Hermione gave Draco the picture. Told him it'd be a shame if Voldemort got a hold of this picture. Death Eaters were cruel. Ron will deny it, but he sent a letter to Bill, asking for the best curse he knew to use on an abusive prick. Draco had a paper ball thrown at his head with the letter and a chicken scratch note of "make it happen".
Minerva collected his things for him. On her way out, she punched Severus's ex right in the nose. It felt great.
Weeks later, the ex ended up in the Daily Prophet as the latest victim of the Death Eaters. Severus felt bad for being relieved.
It took awhile, but eventually Severus came back to a decently happy man. Therapy helped a lot, for more than just his failed relationship.
Yes, I know. What the fuck Ever? It’s been ages since you’ve posted anything! And wasn’t True Beauty just a oneshot? A oneshot you wrote like...a year ago?
Yes. I did write the original oneshot a year ago. Buuut then I got inspired and ran with it. I edited chapter one, by the way, so if you ever read the original oneshot, you should go click on the link above and re-read chapter one. The edits are super subtle, but important. And if you haven’t read chapter 1, you’re going to need to in order to understand this chapter.
(You can skip this author’s note if you want, but it’s pretty important explaining my intentions with this story. But I get it if you don’t wanna read all that, I’m rambly.)
I’ve had an idea in mind for a long time, and I decided to go for it. I've noticed there's a lot of stories, particularly in this fandom, that portray depression totally wrong. Now, it isn't necessarily the author's fault: depression is a hard thing to write and understand when you haven't experienced it yourself. That's part of why I've decided to write this story. I have depression and anxiety myself, and not only is this story a great coping method, it's also a way to show people who may not fully understand mental illness what it's like being in our heads. I also hope to portray how society treats mentally ill people: especially schools. I'm trying to show the signs you can look out for, how to help a mentally ill person, and how sometimes, people truly are oblivious.
Of course, this means this story is going to be a difficult read at times. The first scene in this chapter could be potentially very triggering, and perhaps there will be more scenes like this, or even more graphic scenes. I'm not going to sugarcoat anything. Things may not have gotten this bad for me, but I've seen it happen to many close to me. Too much media romanticizes mental illness, thinks that a relationship can cure it. News flash: people in relationships may be happier, but nothing can magically cure mental illness. It takes time, a lot of hard work, and potentially medication.
In summary, I'm trying to portray this as realistic as possible. This is a very extreme case, so not everyone who is mentally ill will act like Rogue does, but I figured after a chapter like the first, Rogue's situation is a difficult one. His actions also add to the common misconceptions that depressed people are just lazy or bad students.
I am not perfect in any means, there will likely be some inaccuracies or in some spots it'll be a bit dramatic. But that's to be expected, as no author can write something completely and totally flawless, no matter how informed they are.
Without further ado, Chapter Two of True Beauty: You're Proud, but I'm Getting Nowhere. I hope you enjoy.
WARNING: SELF HARM. SKIP THE FIRST SCENE IF THIS TRIGGERS YOU.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
A leaky faucet in a bathroom illuminated only by the sliver of moonlight spills icy cold onto pale skin, scratched like fragile porcelain. The clear purity is disrupted by crimson, the heat disrupting the flow of liquid cold, a dance of fire and ice. Only a hiss of recognition and the dripping of water from rusted pipes whispers through the silence of the night, so late that it was early, a cold dark silence that engulfs those inside it with an almost protective embrace.
A pure white sheet descends on stained silver, staining red until the sharp edge shines in the moonlight, reflecting the eyes of its owner, dark as the thick liquid that flows down his skin. The sheet falls into the still water encased in porcelain, only to be taken away in a swirling pattern, sucked out of sight with a single flush.
The deadly sharpness that glimmers with a strangely appealing beauty is hidden away, concealed by a zipper, then shoved behind piles of meaningless things humans insisted on pampering themselves with. Out of sight, out of mind...and yet, his fingers felt empty without it, twitching in the need to retrieve it again, to feel the weight of guilt and release in his palms, to feel it's sharpened edge bring him to actually know pain instead of remembering it.
As he slips out behind the closed door, minding the creaking hinge, the numbness is back, starting at his fingertips and spreading throughout his blood, not hot, not cold, not anything.
As his head hits the sunken, tear stained pillow, his fingers trace the fresh lines that pattern his skin, almost artistic against the paleness of his underarms, a little splash of color to give him something to look at, to remind himself he is still moving, that he can feel the slightest bit of something.
His battle scars. For the first time in the dead of night, the corner of his mouth twitches as if to smile. It did not come, only a single tear, but as he pulls black fabric over the visual pain, he does not feel shame, only exhaustion from today’s fight, the enemy he could not defeat. Tomorrow was a new fight, and he would be ready with words of steel and eyes of resolute determination. Tomorrow...is a new chance for renewal.
The day breaks and Sting Eucliffe is awake the moment the sun rises above the horizon, blue eyes wide and body filled with restless energy. He had a reason to dress up today, and a reason to be excited for school, which is a rarity saved for field trips and movie days, which happened maybe twice a semester.
He had a boyfriend. It was something hard to believe or process, for their school is 97% straight and all of the gay guys are taken. Not only was he in a relationship now, but it was with Rogue. Rogue, whom he’d been crushing on since he’d found out his sexuality, although sometimes it seemed it was even before that. Rogue, who crinkles up his nose when he laughs, whose eyes smile when he scolds you for silly little things, whose laugh could make anyone’s little gay heart melt.
“Sting!” his mother calls from upstairs. “Are you dressed? Normally you’re down by now!”
Sting blinks rapidly and slowly comes to the realization that he’s been dazedly lying on the floor in his boxers daydreaming of Rogue for fifteen minutes. “Fuck whyyyy?!” he whines, cursing his sappy brain and climbing up off the carpet. “Coming Mum!”
He throws on a pink t-shirt, white shorts, his converse, and slides two hair-clips into his hair. By “dress-up” he simply meant wear clothes that showed himself off, like the tightness of this shirt and pants, and then the hair clips for a bit of a cute flare. He skips down the stairs and screeches into the kitchen, taking the wheat toast with butter and cinnamon sugar from his mother’s hands. “Thanks Mum!” he beams.
She chuckles happily as he devours it down, moving to move her husband’s dishes into the sink. “You’re awfully cheerful today.” She smiles at the hairclips, adding, “And you’re dressed all cute… Hmm…” She puts on a fake pondering expression. “Could it be that my little boy is trying to...impress someone?”
“Oho, no need, my dear mother,” Sting grins, setting his plate into the sink. “Already impressed ‘im.”
She laughs, ruffling his hair, to which he loudly protests. “I should've known. I knew you could do it. You two have been so close for so long it was only a matter of time…”
“Yeah, well, I really-wait, how did you know it was Rogue?”
Mrs. Eucliffe laughs joyously. “I just said anyone could’ve seen it coming, didn't I?”
“True,” Sting shrugs, checking the clock on the oven. “Time for me to head out. I hope I can catch Rogue so he doesn’t have to walk alone.”
“You do that, sweetheart,” his mother smiles warmly. “Your father wanted me to tell you to have a good day today and good luck on your test!”
Sting freezes, eyes widening. “Test? Oh shit .” He bolts out of the house as fast as he can, trying not to show his desperation. His feet hit the sidewalk as he moves in the direction of the High School. He sees a familiar figure slightly up the street from him, shoulders hunched in that same gray sweatshirt as always.
Sting runs up behind him, throwing an arm around him and placing a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Rogue~!” he says cheerfully.
Rogue turns his head sharply, looking over at Sting with wide eyes. “O-Oh, hi.” He blushes shyly, eyes downcast out of embarrassment.
“Hi beautiful,” Sting flirts, kissing Rogue’s cheek again and watching the red flood his cheeks. “How are you this morning?”
“Not good…” Rogue mumbles, and Sting’s face falls. “This is kinda cheesy but...it's better now that you're here with me.”
“I love cheesy,” Sting smiles, brushing Rogue’s hair from his eyes. “I am the definition of cheesy, after all.”
“You're the definition of dork is what you are,” Rogue replies softly, and Sting giggles in response. They were nearing the campus now, and Sting takes Rogue’s hand in his and swings their joined fingers.
A rough voice suddenly sounds in their ears as a group of three other teenagers approaches them. “Hey there, Cheney,” one of them sneers.
Rogue freezes up beside Sting, hands shaking slightly. Sting instantly senses trouble. His eyes narrow as he shoots the trio his scariest glare, jaw set and face turned in a fierce scowl.
The boy gulps. “Wh-Whoa, not trying to start something or anything...just sayin’ hi to a classmate.” The three of them quickly rush off, leaving the couple alone on the sidewalk.
Rogue turns to look at Sting in amazement. “How did you do that…?”
“My scariest glare,” Sting throws an arm around Rogue’s shoulder and continues to walk with him towards the front of the school. “But it also was a little bit of the secret art of ‘Touch My Boyfriend and I’ll Fuck You Up’, which emits a magical aura of fear-”
“Shut up!” Rogue laughs, elbowing Sting in the ribs. Sting’s heart flutters, because like always, Rogue looked beautiful blushing and laughing. There is relief on his features not there before, the pressure those three boys put upon him lifted from his burdened shoulders.
Sting smiles softly, “Don’t you worry, Rogue. I’ve got you.” He squeezes Rogue’s hand tightly. “No matter what happens, I’ve got your back.”
Rogue smiles thinly, “You sure you want to have that job…?” He looks down at his feet, shoes shuffling against the pavement. “You’ve basically just signed yourself up for a world of hurt.”
“I know,” Sting says boldly, staring straight forward. The clear morning sky felt refreshing both on his lungs and his eyes. “I’m prepared to do pretty much anything to get you smiling like that again. I miss it. You look beautiful.”
Rogue flushes again, “Would you stop? We just started dating and you’re already pouring it on like it’s been a year.”
Sting shrugs, “I mean...it almost has been many.”
“Oh, shut up.” Rogue bares the hint of a smile. “You were too cowardly to say anything.”
As they approach the school together, Sting can feel eyes on them, as well as whispers. Instead of shying away, Sting simply stands taller and prouder as if to say: hell yeah, that’s my boyfriend. I bet you’re jealous .
“I’ll walk you to your first class, okay?” Sting pecks Rogue’s cheek softly, then squeezes his hand.
“Are you showing off right now?” Rogue asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know you can see the people staring.”
“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Sting looks genuinely concerned, stopping for a moment to look into his eyes.
Rogue looks away shyly, “You know I don’t like people staring at me…”
“I know,” Rogue takes Sting’s hand again. “This is fine...let’s just keep walking…”
Sting smiles and squeezes his hand, then starts walking towards Rogue’s class. Rogue leans on Sting slightly, breathing uneasy, eyes drooping. Sting watches Rogue’s expression, seeing the exhaustion written all over his face, both physical and emotional. It must’ve been another bad night… Sting bites his lip, feeling awful and wishing he could’ve helped. I should ask to stay the night again soon...hold him all night so he feels safe…
The bell rings loudly, snapping the couple out of their daze. Sting awkwardly turns to Rogue, “Well uh...yeah. I’ll seeya later...bye…”
To Sting’s surprise, Rogue takes the riskier move. “I love you.”
Sting blushes brightly, ducking his head slightly, “I love you too, Rogue…” His hand hesitates, fingers brushing against Rogue’s palm as he slowly pulls away and walks down the hall alone.
Rogue sat silently in his desk, pencil tapping against his hand to try and calm his nerves. Usually, he would listen to music to calm himself down, but this teacher was rather strict and didn’t allow it. It caused mild turmoil in him, stuck in a weird limbo of trying to find some inner peace on his own while also longing for the rush of sound to block out the foreboding silence.
Rogue wants to smile, but his mind is too full of anxieties to allow that. But he doesn’t let it win today, not yet, at least. Rogue closes his eyes and remembers Sting’s flustered reaction to those powerful three words: I love you . Rogue said them without even a moment’s hesitation, heart certain and strong. Scared of everything else in his life, this was the one thing Rogue would not shy away from.
Sting meant everything to him. Rogue wanted Sting to know that, he wanted him to see how much love his broken heart could hold. It was bursting at the seams where it had been stitched, ripped long ago by people who did not take care to cherish it. But in this case, Rogue didn’t mind. The warmth of love, like thick blood, flowed like power into his veins, like gasoline finally being pumped into an old, worn down machine. Now all they needed was some happiness to oil the rusted gears.
Easier said than done , Rogue thinks to himself, fidgeting with the sleeve of his favorite sweatshirt, trying to conceal any trace of the mess of bandages stuck to his scarred skin.
The class drags on and on, the class working in almost eerie silence on their worksheets, the only sound besides the click of calculators and the scritch scratch of pencils being a soft tick...tock...tick...tock . That sound was the only thing keeping Rogue tethered to reality, an echoing sound that resonated in his mind, helping him slow the agitated heartbeat within his chest that would not cease.
His fingers twitched. His eyes were unfocused and empty. His breathing was uneven and shallow. He wanted his music. He needed his music. He needed an escape.
A loud gasp escapes his lips at the sound of someone dropping a pencil, breaking the silence. Rogue sits bolt upright in his seat, loudly dropping his own pencil against the desk. It felt like all eyes were on him when he stood up, legs weak and unable to support his weight, hands and fingers twitching and shaking, eyes darting everywhere, trying to avoid looking at anyone’s face. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here now.
Mrs. Johanson frowns, standing up and peering over the rim of her glasses. “Is there a problem, Mr. Cheney?”
Something she said made it worse. Rogue wasn’t sure if it was the words, the tone of voice, or the fact she was drawing more and more attention to him, the silence breaking down into pieces, with him the sole source of the chaos.
Rogue tries to speak, tries to stammer out an excuse concerning the bathroom or feeling sick. But the only sound that comes out is a strangled half-sob, and before he knows what is happening, his fingers are hooking around his backpack, and he bolts out the door.
“MR. CHENEY! GET BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!”
Rogue knows he should’ve left his backpack: now she’d think he was just skipping class for a joyride. But he needed his music...he was not going to leave it behind. Still running, Rogue’s left hand scrambles around in his backpack until his fingers coil around the tangled mess of black wires, fishing out his earbuds from the mess of paper and old wrappers. Dragged out with them, his phone nearly drops to the trash-littered cement below.
Mrs. Johnason stopped chasing him. Rogue would be relieved, but he knows this school too well to be fooled by that. She called the hall patrol, perhaps the on-campus police officer. This wouldn’t be the first time. He had been suspected of drugs once before, because of his weird, spastic freakouts and spacy behavior. But they had found nothing but piles and piles of crumpled pieces of paper, covered in frantic handwriting grouped into incoherent scribbles. Look all they like, but they would never find the source of Rogue’s supposed insanity.
The chaos is all in his head, after all.
Rogue finds himself outside of the art classrooms, one of the quietest, most isolated places in the entire school. There was an old supply shed out of use now, supposed to be locked tight with a coded lock impossible to crack. But desperation had overtaken Rogue one day, and he’d fumbled with the lock until he found the code just by chance. It was one of the few miracles that kept him alive.
Quickly inputting the code now embedded in his mind, 7246 , he pushes open the old, creaky door, and steps inside. The shed looks the same as always: dark with only a single stream of light flowing through the small window near the roof. Cans of old paint, tubs of broken crayons, buckets of painted rocks and cracked busts...the room provides a surprising amount of comfort.
Jamming the earbuds into his ears and turning on his headspace playlist, he sits down amongst the pencil shavings and paint chips and closes his eyes, back hitting the old wooden wall behind him. He didn’t care how long he was here now, didn’t care if they called home to report his absence, didn’t care if people panicked and called the police. They would never find him here, he was sure of it. He was simply a shadow on the wall, melting into the darkness effortlessly. They thought this shed hadn’t been opened in years, and it was their ignorance, that for once, kept him safe.
Rogue breathes in slowly, smelling wood and old paint. He finds it soothing, in a way, to know that creativity used to be born here, amongst the wood shavings and dim sunlight.
Rogue feels a bit of sweat on his brow, the warm, stuffy surroundings catching up with him. Nervously he removes the sweatshirt he always wore, trembling slightly at the sight of the revealed bandages plastered to his underarms. Biting his lip, he reminds himself he is alone here, alone and safe from judgemental, preying eyes.
Usually, Rogue sets an alarm so that he could go to his next class, but today is not one of those days. Instead, he shuts his eyes and lets himself slip into a meditative state, trying to think of nothing as music washes over him and drowns out all of the shit in his mind.
Sting hears whispers and rumors bouncing from mouth to mouth all throughout the hallways. Something about it felt wrong, far too familiar. Normally, Sting only butts into gossip if it was something that interested him (which was not very often: in his point of view, the lives of teenage girls are boring as hell) but there was something about this that felt important.
“Yeah, apparently he just jumped out of his seat, grabbed his backpack, and bolted,” a girl with pink lipstick on smirking lips says to her friend.
“Maybe he really is on drugs,” laughs the friend, rolling her brown eyes. “I mean, I know the school searched him and found nothing, but maybe he does ‘em before he gets to school, then sneaks out at lunch to a dealer somewhere down the street.”
The usual drug rumors did not spike Sting’s interest. He turns away, about to head towards his locker, when a single word stops him in his tracks.
“Yeah, what an emo freak.”
Sting whirls around immediately, mind flashing back to the night before. “- the bullies pull me behind the school and call me a faggot and beat me for being the worthless trashy gay emo piece of shit that I am-!”
Sting immediately gets in their faces, preparing to intimidate and defend, “Who are you talking about?!”
One of the girls yelps and jumps back, but the one with pink lipstick smiles flirtatiously at him. Sting controls the urge to roll his eyes. Great, another girl fishing for what she knows isn’t there.
“Who? Oh, just that weirdass guy in my first period who’s probably on drugs.”
Sting grits his teeth, his hands curling into fists at his side. This girl is pushing all my buttons... “What’s his name?”
“Rogue Cheney,” she replied easily. “I thought you’d know that by now, considering half the school’s in a bu-”
Sting growls and grabs the front of her shirt, “Shut the fuck up! Rogue’s not on fucking drugs, okay?! I know this for a fact! Ever consider that your words are what’s causing all this shit?”
She snorts loudly, not looking intimidated in the slightest. “Oh Sting, baby, let me guess.”
“Don’t fucking call me that.” Sting growls, eyes narrowing even more.
“You’re gay for him, aren’t you?” she laughs, acting like this is some sick joke, like she’s trying to insult him. “You could do so much better than trash like th-”
Sting can’t help himself, losing it immediately and punching her straight on the jaw. “MAYBE I FUCKING AM! SO SHUT IT!”
Multiple people scream, stepping back from the scene with wide eyes. A few others whip out their cellphones and start recording. The girl Sting hits falls to the ground, blood streaming out of her split lip, eyes wide in rage.
“YOU BASTARD!” she screams, getting to her feet, trying to wipe the blood off of her face. She springs at him, trying to use her nails to scrape up his face, but he grabs her by the wrist and shoves her back to the ground.
“Don’t you DARE touch me!” Sting shouts, trying to stop the tears from falling. No one fucking understands...all of these people...they’re just making it worse. Addressing the crowd, he shouts, “If any of you wanna end up just like her, go ahead, keep talking shit!”
Eyes widen all around the hallway, holding their phones up and continuing to get it all on record. Sting hears shouting and the sound of teachers and hall monitors running towards the scene.
After that, everything is a blur. Dragged to the principal’s office, they sit Sting in a chair in front of the principal’s desk and leave him there. Sting looks down at the dried blood on his fist, cursing his own lack of impulse control. He used to get in trouble all the time before high school for fighting, and he’d been doing so much better since he arrived here. But that bitch’s words had brought him back, and he’d been unable to help himself from shutting her up like many others before her.
Principal Poher peers over his desk at Sting, sighing softly. “Sting Eucliffe...I thought you’d fixed this.”
“So had I,” Sting says softly. He looks up at the principal straight in the eyes. “But I don’t regret it, Sir.”
Poher groans. “Sting, you need to learn that punching people is not the way to solve problems.”
“They did the one thing I can never accept...” Sting does not break eye contact. “Anyone who hurts Rogue deserves it.”
Sting watches as the principal sighs again heavily, leaning back in his chair and looking highly disappointed. “Rogue breaks a lot of school rules as well, Sting. I’m not surprised the school’s talking about him.”
“They bully him,” Sting grits his teeth, “they bully him like we’re back in middle school! It’s immature, rude, and if they would shut their damn mouths then maybe Rogue could actually handle being in class!”
Poher’s expression darkens. “Sting. That is Rogue’s business, not yours. If he’s having a problem, he needs to come talk to us himself.”
“Am I not allowed to defend my best friend? My boyfriend?!” Sting snaps back, anger rising in his chest. “All the anti-bullying stuff around this school says to not be a bystander, to stick up for those in trouble! But once I do that, I get in trouble, and nothing changes!”
“What we mean by that is to come tell an authority.” The principal starts filling out a form, not looking at Sting, having given up.
“You just said he has to come tell you himself!” Sting shouts, standing up and shaking angrily.
“Sit down, Sting!” Poher commands, and Sting falls back into his seat with venom in his eyes. Clutching the seat’s armrests with both hands, Sting tries to contain his anger and stop the shaking. “Sting, please listen to me.” Poher’s eyes are fixed upon the boy’s face, and Sting refuses to break eye contact, not backing down. “If someone was bullying Rogue to his face, if someone was physically hurting him, and you came to me with names and evidence, we would put a stop to it. Rogue has not been seen since his little stunt this morning-”
“Wait, what?!” Sting cries, sitting up straighter in the chair. “Rogue’s missing?!”
The principal groans softly, “I shouldn’t have said that. But yes, Rogue is currently missing.”
Sting jumps out of his chair and heads for the door, “I’ve got to find him, he could be in trouble-!” Sting grabs the door and tries to open it, only to realize it’s locked. “Dammit!”
“Sting.” Poher’s voice is surprisingly calm. “You cannot go around punching people anymore, unless it is self-defense. If someone is bullying Rogue, have him come to me. It’s just difficult to take your side of the story as pure fact when you are this riled up and Rogue is missing, breaking school rules. If you both come in later this week, I will have a talk with you.”
Sting hangs his head, shaking violently. “P-Please let me go look for Rogue...likely, he doesn’t want to be found...a-and when he doesn’t want to be found, n-no one’s gonna be able to find him but me...I-I’m the only person he trusts...please…”
Poher sighs softly. “I’m sorry, Sting.” He pushes the form out in front of him. “I’m afraid we have to suspend you for two days for fighting. Stay here, and I’ll call your mom.”
“N-No!” Sting tugs on the door again. “Y-You have to let me out, R-Rogue could be in danger-”
“We have people looking for him now,” the principal says slowly. “I’m calling your mother, Sting. Please sit down and stay as calm as you can. Rogue is going to be alright.”
Sting sinks back into the chair, holding back angry tears. Suspended? Rogue’s going to be alone at school for two days… That is, unless he gets suspended too…
“C-Can I text him…?” Sting whispers, but Poher has already picked up the phone to call Sting’s mother. Biting down on his lip hard, Sting sinks into himself and picks at the dried blood caked onto his fist. Why do all of his attempts to help just make everything worse? Rogue was in a bad place, he couldn’t come to the office himself, he couldn’t tell anyone about the pain he had, about the struggle going on inside his mind. They were basically asking Rogue to do the impossible. People this far gone would never show it, never admit it. They would only hide it inside, hide it until someone they trusted pushed just a bit, and then they’d break into pieces in their hands.
Drowning out the world, Sting buries his face into his hands and tries not to cry. I’m sorry, Rogue...
Hug wise, I honestly don't know if it would be safe to try and hug Anya or not, given that she seems to be really into sex, sex, money, money, and sex. On the one hand, she's not bad looking so I wouldn't mind someone like her. OTOH, given what all her and Xander have been implied to have done at times, I honestly don't know if my body could physically handle someone like her without a real risk of a fatal heart attack or stroke. OTOH, being sexed to death would be a hell of a way to go out.
Trigger warnings for mental illness and rape and substance abuse and self harm.
Severus has schizophrenia, one time in class, a Bogart turned into his father and he didn't notice until it changed for a student that was scared of clowns. He had to play it off as extreme exhaustion by "falling asleep" the next class.
Voldemort taught him olcumancy because he was tired of picking up on all of the episodes and straight up crazy going on before he thought to be a spy.
Lucius convinced Severus to join the Death Eaters in return for "handling" his muggle father. Snape never felt guilty for that death, but part of him thought he should.
Tobias killed Eileen and tried to frame Severus the summer before his 7th year. It made the muggle news and rumors of Severus being a murderer started circling around the next year. (And never stopped).
Because of this, (and obvious abuse scars) he never wanted to shower during normal times and NEVER after flying classes. This started the rumors of his never bathing and being "allergic to soap".
After his worst memory, he scream cried in the shower as he scrubbed his skin so hard, he started to bleed. His roommates thought it was because of Lily and told him to get over it through the door, not wanting to go in.
Regulus eventually found out through lots of half asleep snuggles and bribes of chocolate. That priest was the only person he ever killed and he enjoyed it.
He was bullied in Elementary school for being poor and too smart. He always hoped Hogwarts would be so much better and he'd have lots of friends.
He used to self harm. Badly.
It stopped for two years after he graduated until Lily died. Then it started again when he got drunk.
Minerva eventually found out and made him stop. (Cats are very good at stalking). She was very effective.
After Albus died, she told him she wished he was the one who fell off the tower and it wasn't too late for him to jump. Severus cried for two hours and relapsed without the influence of alcohol.
He's tried to cut the dark mark off once when he was drunk. After being taken to a muggle hospital and getting a skin graft, the mark came back. He was admitted to a hospital for a month over the summer holidays and no one knew.
He ran away when he was 16 and was caught stealing food after two weeks by a shop owner that turned him in to the police. The cops brought him home and his parents never noticed he was gone.
He's a high functioning alcoholic. Almost all of the men on his Dad's side of the family were alcoholics too.
He started drinking at 13 to cope with his family life.
So I have been working on a Felix texting (thing, story whatever you want to call it) and of course, as usual, it will have all warnings posted at the top and the keep reading feature will be enabled.
I would like to pre-warn you all though that it centers heavily around SA and the main character does go into SOME detail about their SA. Nothing graphic but it is more than just being mentioned in passing!
I just want it to be known in advance so when you see the new Felix post if you're triggered by that topic you will already know to skip it. I would hate for someone to read something that was upsetting to them. So please tread carefully and read with caution.
I would also like to mention that I myself have been a victim of SA and if anyone ever needs to talk about ANYTHING, my DMs are ALWAYS open!
This is an OMORI blog for LiquidKids, OMORI is a psychological horror game, since triggers involved with the game are prohibited here on tumblr, any major issues (like g0r3, su1c1d3, s3lf h4rm, d1ss0c1at1on, and other largely concerning subjects) will not be shown here, but please be cautious of possible bright imagery, gifs, videos, and spoilers for OMORI, as they will be presented in this blog. If there is a possible light depiction (like pastel psycho asthetics) things that have to do with certain phobias, whether they're the phobias from the game or not, imagery with the somethings or other spooky scary things from the game, they will be tagged and presented with a trigger warning.
PEOPLE WHO ARE TRIGGERED BY THIS GAME BY SEEING, OR HEARING ABOUT IT, PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS.
For people who can't look at artworks, gifs, images, or videos, please be cautious of my content as the topic of this Tumblr is just OMORI. If OMORI is a topic you cannot handle, please either refrain or be careful here.
IF YOUR EYES ARE SENSITIVE TO BRIGHT COLORS, PLEASE READ.
Since this is an OMORI blog, you will most likely see gifs, videos, memes, or images with neon or bright colors, people who have easy ability to being strained, blurred, or have epilepsy, I HIGHLY suggest to stay away from this Tumblr.
THIS IS THE DNI LIST PART OF THIS MESSAGE IF YOU ARE ANY OF THE FOLLOWING, PLEASE REFRAIN FROM FOLLOWING OR REPLYING/REBLOGGING MY POSTS.
People who proship. I will not tolerate proshippers. this means people who ship problematic ships (age difference, p3d0ph1ll1a, 1nc3st, n0nc0n, or 4bus1v3 ships.)
People who poke fun at other's opinions. This means people who poke fun, bully, and offend people for liking certain characters, scenes, etc.
People who poke fun at ME for my opinions. PLEASE DO NOT. do not make fun of my opinions on characters, scenes, etc. Actually, don't make fun of me period, don't harass me for anything, like bruh what better do you have to do.
DO NOT STEAL ANY OF MY ARTWORK. I am NOT going lightly on this one, this is PROHIBITED BY ALL MEANS. It DOES NOT MATTER. DO NOT STEAL MY ART. you're allowed to reblog it but ABSOLUTELY DO NOT BLATANTLY STEAL MY WORK.
If you come to this Tumblr to complain and harass me or others for the artwork, videos, gifs, memes, images, or just the game itself. Do something more productive and important with your life dude, come on.
People who sexualize any of the characters, get Cho' crusty musty nusty justy grusty gross stanky goofy ass out of here bro 💀
That's it for now, if I'm missing anything please feel free to dm and I will update this post. Thank you for your time, have a great day.
(Bruh I probably just pissed off like 80 people by saying I don't tolerate proshippers because most if not all omori ships are proships lmao)
