I did not mean for this to get this angsty i swear
-no idea the lives i’ve taken- (the original line was ‘no idea the lives i’ve leaded) (dont ask how i somehow misheard that there was way too much other sound effects going on)
swc xeno-fi jul 2 daily ‘26
Andrew didn’t deserve this.
Oh, sure, there were people who would say different. People like Ashton and Eve and Kyron that would pat him on the shoulder and assure him that even if he did things that were unforgiveable, he was alright at heart, wasn’t he? He had to be. Because he helped take Anomaly away and because it was his job -
But then, why did he always - always feel this emptiness in his stomach with every smile he gave? He wanted to have fun, sure. But - but he knew that this all had to fade away soon. Like everything else. Like his home and his family. He didn’t deserve a happy ending, because he had ended people, for goodness sake -
He sighed. In the cold winter air, he could see his breath, white smoke poisoning the air, poisoning everyone around him. The air was always something took for granted, he mused, even though it was so powerful. It could go everywhere, do everything unapologetically. Unlike it, his reach was limited. He couldn’t do anything but stand there as his victims cried out their last wishes, their last requests. Stood there. Why did he always stand there?
Why was he always there, anyway?
He was waiting outside his and Ashton’s house - they were roommates. He had rung the doorbell a while ago, and Ashton hadn’t answered. He didn’t particularly like being in public very much, what with all the awkward glances and the frowns and the avoidance. They knew that he only took on jobs that ended actually evil people, but being around a fully licensed killer probably was worrying. He knew he would be scared, too.
He looked at the door window. It was covered in the frost, but he could still see himself.
He looked at the mirror, and he saw a man that he didn’t recognize.
He laughed to himself. Finally, Ashton opened the door with a grin as warm as the sun, with all the same kindness and compassion that made Andrew feel sick to his stomach. Ashton - Ashton, he didn’t understand, he never could’ve. He always had these smiles that didn’t have to be faked and this little group of friends that thought everything could be solved with the power of friendship.
They didn’t understand. They didn’t understand the thousands of corpses on his hands.
He sighed. He gave a dull smile, and stepped inside. It was warm inside of he and Ashton’s house, he noticed. Warmer then usual. Maybe that was just because of how cold it was outside. He looked at Ashton again, who was fumbling with the lock on their front door like a loon.
This had to end at some point.
Ashton was grinning, and everything was warm, and he was there, a murderer smack dab in a place where he shouldn’tve been. With friends and a job.
This had to end at some point.
Ashton walked into their house, practically dragging Andrew along with him, and he showed some snacks he prepared. The gesture made Andrew feel an odd sort of prickle inside of him.
This had to end at some point.
Smiles and warmth and kindness and -
This had to end at some point.
Right?

-xeno fi prompt: foreshadowing-
Selina found herself getting lost in the fires' flames, that night.
Flames had taken away everything. Flames had brought her to a clawed hand that promised safety, before diving in for the kill. She should hate fire, she mused, but as fire had never done anything to her directly she found herself appreciating how beautiful it could be. She leaned in, her black tail flicking as she continued watching the red and orange flicker. At her side, Nora was chatting away with Benjamin, speaking about the day's adventures.
Selina couldn't care less, personally. Adventures were interesting from an outsider's perspective, sure, but fighting dragons and the evil lord of the week all sort of flicked by like pages in a book. They got her blood pumping and her sword swinging, and then they were just gone.
Selina hummed contentedly. It wouldn't be so bad to just rest here by the fire forever. Distracted by her conversation, Nora turned to Selina.
“You look like you're thinking about something.” Nora said, almost like a question. Selina drew her ears back, bothered. “Don't give me that look, Sel, you know I don't like seeing you so bothered.”
“I'm not bothered,” Selina said. It was the truth. How come some people just didn't understand that others could find comfort in having some personal space? She hissed at Nora, who winced.
Okay. Maybe she was a little bit bothered. But it wasn't even her fault.
“Ouch,” Benjamin put in, extremely helpfully.
“Dollar for your thoughts?” Nora asks.
“The phrase is ‘penny for your thoughts’.” Benjamin points out. Nora sticks out her tongue at him.
“Well okay, so what if I want to be richer?”
Benjamin barks out a laugh. “Fair enough, carry on.”
Nora turns back to Selina. “Well?”
Selina frowns at her, but she very unfortunately feels her tail raising up with contentment. “I'm not thinking about anythiing.” Selina responds, voice flat. Nora rolls her eyes, then, points out in a very nerdy fashion:
“It's actually impossible to do that -”
“I'm not thinking about anything notable,” Selina amends. This doesn't seem to satisfy Nora, who puts her hands on her hips and huffs.
“Come on, I saw the look in your eyes! It was all empty and stuff.”
“So I got lost in the fire's flames. So what.”
“….Fair.” Nora says at last, frowning. "Well - fine. If you want to be that way.“
”I already told you, I wasn't thinking about anything interesting,“ Selina protested.
”Yeah, yeah, just teasing." Nora says with a grin. She leans back, taking a fresh gulp of the clean, forest air. Selina doesn't think she had ever breathed air so unpolluted. Nora and Benjamin, on the other hand, took things like this granted. Breathing. Eating.
The thought brings her mood down again. She looks at Nora and Benjamin, who have gone back to bickering about god knows what. They look happy, she notices, far too happy given how dark and cold it is outside. How were they raised, she wonders, to be so carefree, to be so airy? Why are they never on alert? They had never gotten used to it, before. They had never seen how bad the world could be. All the problems they had ever faced were the occasional monster that they could slay easily. Selina wondered, often, how they would see the world different if they weren't so ignorant.
She swallowed, reaching for her cloak pocket. Her paw feels the edge of a blade. She ignores how she pricks her fur. It doesn't hurt all that bad, anyway.
–
The next day, they go out walking again. Selina doesn't see the point to this. The point to adventuring in general, anyways. Wasn't it such a foolish notion, to just go out and flounce in the wild and wait for a man eating ogre to erupt from his cave so you could defeat it? Why go out there and fight threatening things on purpose?
Well. That was a question she should probably be asking herself, as she had been dragged along to this stupid party. She had nothing better to do, she admits to herself. She very well couldn't go back to normal creature society, after all.
After fighting some low level goblins, they take a rest by a nearby cave. It's home to some ants, that Selina instantly crushes under her paw. She finds some amusement at watching the others' horrified expressions as she shows the corpses to them.
“Well, I'm going to go to the brook for some fish.” Benjamin says, walking out with a fishing rod in hand. Selina doesn't think he'll find any trout, if the lack of bait is any indication.
Nora leans back, blonde hair hitting the grass below. “Oh, yeah. This is the good life,” She sighed contentedly. “How you doing, Selina?”
“Good,” Selina replies. She watches a stinkbug crawl across the top of the cave absentmindedly.
“Good.”
They sit in silence for a moment.
“So…I know you didn't want to tell me at first, for good reason, but now that we're closer…” Selina can already see where this tangent is going, and she does not like it. “Mind telling me a bit about where you came from? It's pretty rare to find a lone cat anthro just…lying around in a secluded, infested forest.”
Selina sighed. Might as well tell her simplified version, to get her off her back. “Had a dad. Mom died during birth. Dad ran away after a bit ‘cause we were poor. Sat around for a bit. Some people - ” Well, actually just one - “helped me. Left when I was old enough. Ended up just walking around for a bit. Went to the forest. Took a nap. Got rudely interrupted by some energetic adventurers.”
“Huh. You still in contact with those people?”
Selina watches the stinkbug let go for just a brief moment, plummeting to its death.
“No.” The lie comes easy.
“Huh. That sucks,” Nora replies, intelligently.
–
The call comes far too late at night. It’s good Selina is crepuscular, or she might've missed it completely. A small, blue orb flies in through the window of her inn room. It plummets to the ground, splashing like a water balloon. Then, from the glowing splatter on the ground, comes a very, very soft voice. Selina recognizes it immediately.
“One forty-seven,” It says.
“Good evening.” It's the middle of the night, actually, but she couldn't care less.
“Progress?”
“Progressing.”
“Such a wordsmith.”
Selina snorts. “Yes, sir.”
“I expect you to be done soon.”
“Of course, sir.”
“You have the packages?”
“Yes, sir.” They came at the inn door moments after she had fully unpacked. Thankfully, the other two had been too engrossed with unpacking themselves that they hadn't noticed.
“Good.” The splash on the ground collects to a blue ball again, and it flies out. Selina sighs, turns to her bed and goes to sleep.
–

-the burning daily prompt: word generator: demonic guitar-
-wdym the ending is bad shhhh-
There is a guitar, hidden within a mess of other objects in a trash pile. Few have ever seen it: to the general public, it looks broken. It looks like it used to be a brilliantly bronze instrument, used to play mesmerizing melodies, but now it is destroyed. However, to some, though it is rare…they see a normal guitar. Bronze, tuned perfectly no matter the time or place. They pick up this natural treasure, ready to sell it to make some money, or even wield it themselves.
Those who pick up the guitar are never seen again.
Slowly, tales of the instrument spread. They speak of fingerprints found on the frets, they speak of desperate scratches on the guitar, they speak of messages written in bl—d, though not in the victim’s handwriting. Messages written in an unrecognizable language. These stories, she knows, are meant to scare people off. To make people fear going to the junkyard, even if they may find tin or copper to sell in small amounts.
Unfortunately, people always want to do what they are told not to do.
More people come to the village. They flock like seagulls, gathering around the mess of metal and trash. They take pictures of the guitar. Some even pick it up, and anyone around them come back to the village, speaking of a perfectly normal journey. They say, “Who are you talking about?” They say, “We have everyone here.” They say they forget about them.
It becomes a widespread attraction. Conspiracy theorists talk of ancient civilizations, with no evidence to back it up. Scientists approach it, but back away, because nobody is brave enough to touch it themselves. Eventually, the town, realizing the popularity that has been gained, use a crane machine to seperate the guitar from the rest of the rubbish. This way, people can gawk at the object that has taken away lives that seem to have been erased from history.
She thinks it is all rather stupid. Why not just avoid the problem altogether? This is the thing that has taken so many, even though all of the victims never even lived a life according to others.
Not many share her opinions, she notices. They reason, if nobody touches it, we will be fine. She knows some fool out there will break it open, though. She knows something bad will happen. Murphy’s Law dictates that anything that can go wrong, will go wrong.
—
It is called the Guitar Crisis. The news doesn’t cover it, because all the witnesses say nothing went wrong. But cameras catch, briefly, what happens. The guitar stays still in its case, and then all of a sudden, three people close to it just….dissapear. Thankfully the security guard catches this on his phone, because the next time he tries to rerun the footage, it appears to be just another normal video of people watching it.
All of this fuss over a guitar. She goes to the mayor and reasons that they should just destroy the guitar. It has caused so much harm and to be honest even though she pretends she is not she is afraid. Afraid that her friends and family are lost to the primal human trait of curiousity and they go to the guitar and they are ended.
The mayor just laughs and she is shooed.
—
The country the village is from gets into war, and a dispute forms morally. Should the worst of prisoners be sentenced to the guitar? (Goodness, is that a question that she thought would never be said.) Is it morally correct, given that people around them will forget they existed? They test this out a bit, first by taking some foolish volunteer who is a father of a child and he dissapears. The child, in turn, says that he has never known his father and was just adopted by a mother. All around them, they live a generally happy life.
And so. The worst of the prisoners are sentenced, and erased. Easy as that.
—
Her friends go to look at the guitar. She tries to pull them away, but they insist. “It will be fun!” “We will be fine!”
Eventually, she is convinced.
—
The next day, she sighs to herself, wishing she had some friends in this dreary town.
—
She wonders, sometimes, if she used to have a bigger family, and if she simply forgot them.
—
A man comes to where the guitar is being showcased, late at night. Nobody sees him in the security cameras. Everybody forgets him the moment they look away. He goes to the guitar, smashes the case open, takes the guitar and dissapears in thin air, along with the instrument.
—
In the day, nobody remembers any guitar. She smiles, laughs with her friends and personally, she is happy that man took the guitar away. She is the one who asked him to, anyway.

-Interviewing another cabin daily with @Alfalfa78 -

Q: whats ur favorite school subject and why?

Bea - my favorite subject would have to be english. i like it a lot because i love reading and writing a lot (shocking, i know). i love reading classic literature (even if it's hard to understand on the first read through) and dissecting themes/motifs/etc has always been fun for me! i have written many essays about certain themes/motifs that caught my eye or interest before lol.

Patches(me) - my favourite subject is also english, or science because for english i just really like writing essays and figuring out all the schematics, and writing fiction has always been REALLY fun for me hehe. i like science because all the weird things the universe interest me a lot.



Q: what’s ur favourite thing to do in ur free time(besides writing)?

Bea - Probably crochet! I'm definitely a beginner, but it's very fun and very mindless. Even if it's made me learn that I can't count (which is ironic, since math is probably my second favorite subject haha). So I end up having to use a billion stitch markers to keep track of where I am. But when I'm not crocheting, I'm probably dancing haha. I love dance a lot. I do ballet, jazz, tap, and contemporary and even if I love them all equally, contemporary is probably my favorite one to do lol.

Patches - ooh crochet is cool! i also like crochet but it’s definitely not a hobby like i can only do one row single stitch or a chain ToT for me it’s probably drawing, I do it almost as much as writing. I usually didn’t draw at all, the only reason I started was because I got REALLY bored during last summer and ended up getting obsessed(i used to be a chronic stick figure superhero artist). I also scroll on scratch mwehehe >)

Bea - Ooh, drawing is fun! I definitely don't do it as much as I used to, but I still like to doodle! Hmm.



Q: Do you have a favorite movie or TV show?

Patches - Ooohh good question! I’m not really sure for a movie, I have a lot that I can’t choose but some of my favorites are The Truman Show, The Breakfast Club and The Terminal. For TV show IDK if this counts but I really like the Ace Attorney anime, but if it has to be something that isn’t an adaptation uhhh like Voltron or documentaries are cool, like the white hat black hat one (i forgot what it was called sigh) wbu? Any movies or tv shows you like?

Bea - Interesting! I didn't know that Ace Attonery had an anime adaption! That's pretty cool . Favorite move probably has to be Captain America: The Winter Soldier, but the original/first Avengers movie is also a close second. TV show wise, I have a lot more that I like haha. I like Psych, Monk, and Perry Mason a lot. Mystery and/or crime solving shows are very fun for me. I also like Star Wars Rebels, The Bad Batch, and the Clone Wars! You would never guess, but I'm a star wars fan haha.



Q: what's your favorite season and why?

Patches: For me, my favorite season is probably autumn! It’s just very pretty and its the period when i get to reunite with school friends, regain an actual rhythm in my life, and just makes my life a lot more busy yknow? Yeah I’m one of those people who like always having something to do even if it’s not very fun ;-; it’s also when my birthday happens I like winter too, but not as much because…brr cold. What about you?

Bea: Ooh autumn is totally fair. My favorite has got to be winter. I prefer the cold because it means I get to bundle up in a bunch of blankets and wear fuzzy socks all the time. I'm also free from bugs and insects, which is nice because mosquitos bite me all the time in the warm months ;-; also snow!!! I love snow, but I don't get it very often (and when I do it's like than an inch or two) but when it does come, I'm always super happy haha. Hmm.



Q: What's your favorite food? Or flavor/type 

Patches: (sorry for late reply i got blocked) My favorite is probably sushi! I like the variety and flavor, and my favorite is anything salmon or tobiko DD Another one I like is takoyaki, its just way too hot for me ToT. Uhh for flavor I like anything salty hence why I like sushi lol.

daily jul 5
vigilantes - sequel
“Hey, Anomaly?”
It was just him and Kyron on the roof of the latter’s labratory, watching the sun set. They did this nearly every evening, talking about gods knows what. Anomaly used to do this with Abstract, too. The habit was…nice.
“Yeah?” Anomaly was leaned back, and he took a sip of his strawberry lemonade before turning to his boyfriend. Kyron pushed up his glasses, looking a bit nervous about what he was going to say next. “Come on, you can tell me. I won’t mind.”
“…Do you…ever feel…guilty? About everything that you’ve done?” The phrase would’ve sounded insulting if it came from anyone else, but Anomaly understood. Kyron had messed up just as much as he had. He was asking for closure, which was the one thing Anomaly couldn’t give him. They were both horrible people, but in the end, most deserved a second chance. He voiced this thought, and Kyron gave a little shrug.
“…I guess I understand what you mean,” Kyron amends. “But…I don’t know. I know that everyone still thinks I’m good enough for- for this,” He gestures to everything around him. “When I don’t think I am.”
Anomaly takes another long sip. “Everyone has their reasons. I was angry because of what FTD did, but in the end, I guess I understood what he did. We’re all just one big pyramid of little mistakes. We have to forgive each other at some point or it’ll just get worse.”
“So you’re saying the only reason villains can be forgiven is because it’ll get worse otherwise?”
“Well…” Anomaly thinks this over. “Not really, I guess. Sure, that’s part of it, but if people do something bad enough without good enough reason…they don’t deserve forgiveness, you know? People have to be merciless to the merciless, but good enough for the good enough.”
Kyron looks at the sunset again. Then, he gives a little laugh. “Why do you always know what to say, ‘nomaly?”
“I’m just good like that.” Anomaly says smugly. Kyron laughs again, and he leans back next to him. His blue hair tickles Anomaly’s ear.
He smiles fondly at him. “You’re really nice, Anomaly.”
“Only as nice as you deserve,” Anomaly says with a one shouldered shrug. “You know me. All ruthless otherwise or whatever.”
“Yeah, yeah…It’s nice though, isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
Kyron cups his fingers into a circle, lining the edge of the setting sun. “That we can just be happy like this, despite everything we’ve done.”
“When you say that it sounds illegal.” Anomaly deadpans, and Kyron laughs, flicking his forehead playfully. He leans his head on Anomaly’s shoulder, and the touch doesn’t even make Anomaly wince. It would’ve in the past, before his penance, before they forgave him. But now, he didn’t really mind, all that much.
Yeah. It was nice, huh?
Kyron gives him a little peck on the cheek, and they watch the sunset together. They are quiet, but it is a quiet shared by two, and that is good enough.

-the burning prompt: take a character you've explored before and have them lose the thing that matters most to them. -

Miles is sure he must be hallucinating. Perhaps his head hadn’t quite healed from the lack of air from the elevator, because this is all so disorienting. Because surely when he looks ahead, as the white lights of the hospital needle into his eyes, and the nurse says ‘Your father was killed’, she is lying. Because when he thinks back to it his father was alive. His father was smiling at him like always. His father will be there today when he is healed and he will reach out and pick him up like he always does.
Nothing will change. It is all so contradictory.
He stops believing in this at the funeral.
His father never was a particularly rich man, but they always had enough. They had each other and always, that was enough. Why did they need anything more? Still, that meant the funeral was small, reserved for close family. By family, it meant only him and his grandmother. He can feel her hand, comforting on his shoulder, but it is not enough. He does not need comfort. He needs his father, who is lying in that casket, never to breathe again.
And now, it is even worse, because when he thinks back to that day he remembers what he held in his hand. He remembers throwing it and he remembers that sharp sound that keeps him up at night because even though it is so ridiculous -
One gunshot. A bullet to the heart. Nothing else found at the scene. Open and shut, like his father would say, his father who he - who he…killed.
That is all Manfred von Karma says to him, too. That he deserved nothing because he killed his father and he should be grateful, grateful for this father who stands over him, so looming, so powerful. A 32 year long win record. He was untouchable, he was cold, and Miles was to smile through the grief and the pain.
He lost everything and nothing is familiar and he cannot get used to this and just throw away his whole life and why does everything hurt so much? Why does he cry himself to sleep like he is a child? He has enough to eat here, and the best education he can ask for, and a sister that he loves, and a father that he respects. He has everything, but there is no home without his father, he realizes, his real father.
He does not deserve anything, and it hurts. He has more then he will ever need, and it hurts. All of it. Far too much. He grieves for a least a year before he changes under his mentor’s rule and he casts it away as just another event in his life.
He is a prosecutor. In a few years, he will be the best, just under his mentor. He knows his father will be dissapointed. He does not care. He will not care. He refuses to care.
—
It has been fifteen years since the DL-6 incident, and Miles stops having nightmares. Everything hurts just a bit, his pain coming from deep below when he recalls those events, so surreal it is like it has happened yesterday. and Miles turns to Manfred von Karma and points at him and says he is the killer of his father. Just when he got a new guardian and got used to him. But this time, he feels nothing more than a vicious satisfaction at putting him behind bars.
He is past his ways.
—
He visits his father’s gravestone, with his favorite flowers - cherry blossoms. He still remembers, after all these years, but he feels nothing more then guilt. He has ignored his father all these years, even beginning to believe the notion that all defense attorneys were worthless, that he was ill-bred because his father was disgusting. He was not. He was the best person he knew. He tightens the grip around his umbrella, listening to the raindrops fall on it, deep in thought.
He stares at the gravestone. He died far too early.
Then, he speaks. He knows it is stupid, but there is nobody around and he has to say something.
“Greetings, Father.”
The gravestone watches, stagnant.
“I…I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and he feels his eyes growing heavy with fought back tears, nearly two decades delayed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being too weak to save you, even if I was just a child. I’m sorry for believing everything Manfred von Karma taught me. I’m sorry for getting tens of innocents guilty. I’m sorry for avoiding the thought of you after - after the incident, and pretending you were disgusting and - and just vermin.” he reaches into his pocket, for his prosecutor’s badge. “I’m sorry. I will never be half the man you were, Father.”
A brief silence.
“I became a prosecutor,” he decides to explain. They have far too long to catch up on. “I have a sister now, Father. I’m sure you remember how much I wanted one.” He used to badger him all the time on getting a sister somehow. “…I was going to become like Mr. von Karma, Father. But…” A royal blue color flashes into mind. “Someone saved me. He saved me from going too far, and for that I am eternally grateful.”
…
“I wish we had more time, father.” All of a sudden, he is far too tired. He feels he has been carrying this burden his entire life and now that he has started to get it off everything it just…exhausting. “I wish when I had more independence, I investigated the incident myself. But I didn’t want anything to do with it anymore.”
He laughs to himself, quietly. “It is sad, isn’t it? Just avoiding the problem. I wanted a new life as Miles Edgeworth, honorary von Karma, perfect win record, crushing defense attorneys under my shoe one by one.”
…
He kneels down again. It is hard to say, but he forces it out anyway. “I love you, Father. I always did. I pretended I didn’t because Mr. von Karma said I shouldn’t. But I do.”
It will get easier. The grief he has dug will get easier.
Someday.

weekly writings:
-Journaling-
(i chose stream of consciousness journaling)
okay hey guys so honestly im like tired right now but im also really tired for a very long time. my sleep schedule has been messed up for a while lol probably not as much as my sister bc she just came back from japan. speaking of my sister i wonder how she’s doing. personally i’m doing. well i’m tired. i already said that huh
anyways i want to play ace attorney but also i have no motivation. i’m on miles edgeworth investigations but i just want to be DONE with it already so i can play apollo justice trilogy so i can actually get caught up on what is going on lol.
mainly bc i want to write a continuation for my original trilogy swap au fanfic
not to say miles edgeworth trilogy is bad tho. it also breaks third case curse in my opinion at least for the captive turnabout i thought that was interesting and it DID tie into the general narrative bc it introduced fender
btw the names in the official translation are not as good as the ones in the fan in my opinion. ‘raymond shields’ is really aura but ‘eddie fender’ is just low effort. ‘a defender’ really?
also sebastian(eustace) is DEBESTE. not a winner. DEBESTE>
anyways
yeah. wish i had the fan translation.
hmmmmm i feel dissasociative rn. do u guys ever feel like that? like none of what is going on is real? soemtimes I wonder what conscious really is but i’m too tired to be philosphical lol. every time i have a long (more than one night) trip somewhere without my family or anything blatantly familiar like uh school camps i dissasociate when i come back. i look at my hands and wonder if they’re real or not?? like am i a brain in a jar or something???
…man tdl is so cool. he gains so much aura and he’s also just generally fun to draw. tsc is cool too. and vic…
i saw an ace attorney headcanon that read ‘franziska has a small crush on miles tho she would never admit it’ and i gagged like bro who ships them eww eww ew ew ew they are SIBLINGS
also franmaya is more canon smh
im starting to like fradrian more tho
anyways why do all my thoughts revolve around ace attorney. thats like really weird. i’m weird guys.
speaking of that. i might want to get an autism diagnosis but i can’t bc
1. expensive
2. america has bad diagnosing system(they will say u have it just to satisfy u)
3. prolly just teenage hormones messing with my head…or are the hormones convincing me that I don’t have it? Or like not even hormones just normal thoughts?
anyways i might also be depressed which hey. is just a very normal thing for teenagers to do right.
wdhwdhwd i wish i was smaller again. i was so happy then. now im just the quiet kid in the corner with only like one friend. the weirdo with the undersleeping, overeating problem lmao
okay that got depressing shhhhhh. im so good at self care guys trust me. then again i do feel better now that i’ve put this down
my hands hurt from all this typing im going to take a break now, i’m over 500 words anyways

-2026 reflection -
this year dude. it was…honestly just mid. sure i had my highs but i feel like they could’ve been so much better you know? a bit motivator in my life is friends and since I moved away last year I had to suffer with making new friends. A lot of dramatic stuff happened too, which made me enter depressive states for weeks on end.
sure. i had my lows. but it was also nice. i played a new game, my drawing skills went up, i locked in on scratch. i started a dnd campaign with one of my old friends from my other school
heck. i really miss my old friends now that i’m thinking about it.
(okay why am I writing this like my stream of consciousness journal. let me lock in)
Lots of things happened. Lately my grandparents came over, and I don’t like them very much .I can tell they’re trying their best to get to know me better but the language barrier just isn’t doing it. I can understand them, sure, and say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but my nai nai(dad’s mom) keeps trying to buy away my respect and it’s…not working.
I also improved my writing skills like a heck ton! For about three months my writing was BAD bad but then it slowly got better, and I really like my writing style now. (before that bad period my writing was good too sigh).
Also. Back to drawing skills. I can sort of draw eyes now! And hair! And anatomy but a really bad version of it! And hands sort of but only flat palm poses or fists closed smh.
UGHHH talking about the depressing stuff earlier makes me ignore all the good stuff that happened. Okay. A good thing sort of is that someone who didn’t like me bc i reported him for spamming paragraphs of ‘67’ in an official school chat kept annoying me and finally i broke and snapped a pencil in front of him and he stopped bothering me! I felt so girlboss after that lol.
Another good thing. I got the ipad I’m writing this on. That’s fun. Because my old computer got smashed y my dad because I didn’t study for a music exam.
It does have a screen limit tho…
Also I got roblox back. don’t tell my parents shhhh
also i figure out my identity a bit more. slightly. honeslty i’m probably just nonbinary, pan and poly but i’m figuring it out lol
honestly? if I had to rate my year out of ten I’d say 4/10. Sure those other stuff were good but they were kind of small compared to everything else. and me being a teenager with angry hormones is sure to ruin some things yeah? I think this year was honestly average but my dumb brain is focusing on all the bad things.
Oh. Speaking of. I also figured out I’m unnervingly self aware compared to other people. I know way too much about myself besides my identity/sexuality
And that concludes my self care week! I know i know I barely scraped the word minimum but…shh alright?
Btw u may be asking ‘what dude how are u already done’ to which i say I took a half asleep nap while listening to music for an hour, i drew for an hour(i assume that counts as coloring), and i took a walk with my fam (- grandparents) for like an hour. So yeah! Already did everything mwehehe.
And that was my year in review! Hope you don’t mind that it’s not very professional journaling…

-weekly writings-
-Journaling-
(i chose stream of consciousness journaling)
okay hey guys so honestly im like tired right now but im also really tired for a very long time. my sleep schedule has been messed up for a while lol probably not as much as my sister bc she just came back from japan. speaking of my sister i wonder how she’s doing. personally i’m doing. well i’m tired. i already said that huh
anyways i want to play ace attorney but also i have no motivation. i’m on miles edgeworth investigations but i just want to be DONE with it already so i can play apollo justice trilogy so i can actually get caught up on what is going on lol.
mainly bc i want to write a continuation for my original trilogy swap au fanfic
not to say miles edgeworth trilogy is bad tho. it also breaks third case curse in my opinion at least for the captive turnabout i thought that was interesting and it DID tie into the general narrative bc it introduced fender
btw the names in the official translation are not as good as the ones in the fan in my opinion. ‘raymond shields’ is really aura but ‘eddie fender’ is just low effort. ‘a defender’ really?
also sebastian(eustace) is DEBESTE. not a winner. DEBESTE>
anyways
yeah. wish i had the fan translation.
hmmmmm i feel dissasociative rn. do u guys ever feel like that? like none of what is going on is real? soemtimes I wonder what conscious really is but i’m too tired to be philosphical lol. every time i have a long (more than one night) trip somewhere without my family or anything blatantly familiar i dissasociate when i come back. i look at my hands and wonder if they’re real or not?? like am i a brain in a jar or something???
…man tdl is so cool. he gains so much aura and he’s also just generally fun to draw. tsc is cool too.
i saw an ace attorney headcanon that read ‘franziska has a small crush on miles tho she would never admit it’ and i gagged like bro who ships them eww eww ew ew ew they are RELATED
also franmaya is more canon smh
im starting to like fradrian more tho
anyways why do all my thoughts revolve around ace attorney. thats like really weird. i’m weird guys.
speaking of that. i might want to get an autism diagnosis but i can’t bc
1. expensive
2. america has bad diagnosing system(they will say u have it just to satisfy u)
3. prolly just teenage hormones messing with my head…or are the hormones convincing me that I don’t have it? Or like not even hormones just normal thoughts?
anyways i might also be depressed which hey. is just a very normal thing for teenagers to do right.
wdhwdhwd i wish i was smaller again. i was so happy then. now im just the quiet kid in the corner with only like one friend. the weirdo with the undersleeping, overeating problem lmao
okay that got depressing shhhhhh. im so good at self care guys trust me. then again i do feel better now that i’ve put this down
my hands hurt from all this typing im going to take a break now, i’m over 500 words anyways

-2026 reflection -
this year dude. it was…honestly just mid. sure i had my highs but i feel like they could’ve been so much better you know? a bit motivator in my life is friends and since I moved away last year I had to suffer with making new friends. A lot of dramatic stuff happened too, which made me enter sad states for weeks on end.
sure. i had my lows. but it was also nice. i played a new game, my drawing skills went up, i locked in on scratch. i started a dnd campaign with one of my old friends from my other school
heck. i really miss my old friends now that i’m thinking about it.
(okay why am I writing this like my stream of consciousness journal. let me lock in)
Lots of things happened. Lately my grandparents came over, and I don’t like them very much .I can tell they’re trying their best to get to know me better but the language barrier just isn’t doing it. I can understand them, sure, and say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ but my nai nai(dad’s mom) keeps trying to buy away my respect and it’s…not working.
I also improved my writing skills like a heck ton! For about three months my writing was BAD bad but then it slowly got better, and I really like my writing style now. (before that bad period my writing was good too sigh).
Also. Back to drawing skills. I can sort of draw eyes now! And hair! And anatomy but a really bad version of it! And hands sort of but only flat palm poses or fists closed smh.
UGHHH talking about the depressing stuff earlier makes me ignore all the good stuff that happened. Okay. A good thing sort of is that someone who didn’t like me bc i reported him for spamming paragraphs of ‘67’ in an official school chat kept annoying me and finally i broke and snapped a pencil in front of him and he stopped bothering me! I felt so girlboss after that lol.
Another good thing. I got the ipad I’m writing this on. That’s fun. Because my old computer got smashed y my dad because I didn’t study for a music exam.
It does have a screen limit tho…
Also I got rob lox back. don’t tell my parents shhhh
also i figure out my identity a bit more. slightly. honeslty i’m probably just nonbinary, pan and poly but i’m figuring it out lol
honestly? if I had to rate my year out of ten I’d say 4/10. Sure those other stuff were good but they were kind of small compared to everything else. and me being a teenager with angry hormones is sure to ruin some things yeah? I think this year was honestly average but my dumb brain is focusing on all the bad things.
Oh. Speaking of. I also figured out I’m unnervingly self aware compared to other people. I know way too much about myself besides my identity/sexuality
And that concludes my self care week! I know i know I barely scraped the word minimum but…shh alright?
btw u may be asking ‘what dude how are u already done’ to which i say I took a half asleep nap while listening to music for an hour, i drew for an hour(i assume that counts as coloring), and i took a walk with my fam (- grandparents) for like an hour. So yeah! Already did everything mwehehe.

-wip writing competition entry-
The forest path started almost a mile away from the quiet, sleepy village of Oakhaven. Oddly enough, the villagers said, the front - where you would enter - was completely flat faced. Not a single tree out of place, like artwork. In the early days of the village, researchers would study it, and they would come back with surreal reports:
“Some of the trails…they just…vanished.”
“The trees switched places - I’m not kidding, I swear!”
“During dusk, I could see…lights. Through the trees. Like a ghoul was watching me and-“
And every single time, there was always one person missing in their party.
Lena ducked under the low, gnarled branches of the first twisted oak tree.
The air thickened with the scent of rain, even though not a single cloud was visible through the leaves above. All the familiar sounds of the day - chirps, laughs, the hiss of baking bread- fell away until all Lena could hear were her own feet padding silently into the thick muddy moss. The narrow path ahead bent and twisted among oddly crooked trees. There was no paved path beneath her feet, but oddly enough, nothing blocked the journey ahead. Not even a single path of wildgrass.
She had snuck away during the night. Not a soul had noticed her.
With every foot she traveled into the woods, the trunks grew taller and more strangely twisted than the last. One tree curled downwards, forming a sort of hollow gateway, while another was covered in what seemed to be hundreds of doors. Lena tried to open them, and, eventually, she gave up and left. That was when she heard the sound of a hundred closing doors.
She turned back, and the tree was gone.
She clutched her poncho closer to her chest.
Every few steps, something had shifted. A stone she could have sworn she'd passed already sat beneath a different tree. Branches arched overhead where moments before there had been open sky. Even the moss beneath her boots seemed to ripple ever so slightly, as though settling after she'd stepped across it. The entire forest felt like one disorienting maze, straight out of a nightmare.
She resisted the urge to look behind her.
She continued deeper, when, just beside the trail, a light appeared. It was a lantern, floating in the air without anything holding it, its surface glowing with a faint blue light. It moved ahead of Lena for a few yards, paused as if to be sure she followed, and then continued on into the deeper woods.
Lena tried her best to ignore it.
When the lantern continued to float along with her just off the path, she decided that perhaps there was no harm in following the faint glow - even if it was odd. She stepped toward it, and it continued on its way.
The trees had been growing progressively larger and more surreal with each mile. One appeared to be shedding its bark- another seemed to weep a thick, dark sap that dripped. Somehow, the drops hung motionless on the branches. Another had dozens of mismatched arms growing from its trunk, reaching out in all directions as if in prayer or agony.
She passed through an opening in the trees, and Lena found herself standing in a clearing that was strewn with stone figures, covered in vines and bluish moss out of the thin cracks.
One was of a grotesque owl with the body of a deer. Another was an unnervingly fox-like creature made entirely of what appeared to be polished clouds, and a third had far too many arms, all pointing towards different points in the compass, all fixed with a silent stone finger. As Lena crossed the clearing, every statue turned in unison, their unblinking stone eyes fixed on her. There was no discernible expression on their stone faces, only the steady, unnerving stare.
Lena quickened her pace.
The forest became even stranger than before. Leaves drifted upwards from the ground as if they were trying to escape the forest, and shadows crawled up the tree trunks like black vines with an unnerving slow ease. A stream flowed in the center of the woods, but its water didn’t seem to flow on the ground but instead seemed to hang suspended in the air in glittering ribbons of glass, shimmering and twisting around the rocks without ever touching them.
Lena hesitantly reached out her hand. The water was completely dry.
She quickly snatched her hand back, trying to understand how something that looked like water could feel completely solid. Far off in the distance, the sound of bells began to chime.
One,
Two,
Three.
The bells rang out from every direction at once. The trees began to press in on Lena from both sides until the narrow trail turned into a claustrophobic tunnel of branches.
She ran. She ran as fast as she could, regretting ever wanting to go inside this haunted domain.
Faint faces began to peer out from the bark of the trees, not living faces, but carved wooden masks with hollow eyes. They swayed back and forth on strings that seemed to materialize from nowhere. All the masks turned as Lena ran past, faster then before, ignoring the fear that terrorized her.
Each face was carved with the same expressionless grimace, and each mask had no mouth, and yet, Lena heard whispering. It wasn’t real words she was hearing, just faint voices whispering on the wind in a language that sounded like static. The whispering followed her, growing ever louder and more insistent.
Eventually the floating lantern disappeared altogether, fading out of existence. The sunlight quickly began to fade from the trees and, in a blink, it was dark.
Lena could now see, just ahead of her, a single iron gate. There was no wall connected to it, just the gate itself, standing starkly in the middle of the empty forest. It creaked open as she approached- nothing seemed different about the other side. She stopped, her poncho flowing in the wind.
She walked through, and the world suddenly shifted.
The whispering stopped, the bells went silent, the leaves stopped their ascension and settled gently to the ground. All of a sudden, Lena was where she started - in front of the forest. Behind her, there was no iron gate.
It was replaced by a dirt path leading back the way she had come.
Relief washing over her, Lena hurried back to her village. As Lena walked into town, people stopped and stared. One old woman dropped a basket of apples. A small child immediately scurried behind his father. Finally, a man in the front of the crowd spoke in a hushed whisper, glancing towards the mess of trees nervously.
“Someone made it out.” It was not a question.
“Made it out of what?” Lena asks, a bit uncomfortable under the scrutinization.
“The forest.” Another man, older, says. He points a gnarled finger toward the forest, and he blinks, slowly. “Nobody has made it out of the forest. Ever.”
Lena pauses, not sure if he was kidding. She waited for the punchline. Then, when it did not come, she laughs, nervously. “I was just in there.” She said. But now that she was thinking back to it, there were no coherent memories from when she was in there. There was…a lantern? Something blue…
“No,” The child behind his father said, voice soft as a feather. Lena is snapped out of her thoughts, and she stares down at him. “You couldn’t have.”
“I’m…sorry?” Something felt wrong.
Lena turns back to the forest, wary. Deep within the darkness, a blue light flickers on. It blinks.
One,
Two,
Three.
Then, every single tree turned toward the village.