• Member Since 16th Sep, 2012
  • offline last seen 1 hour ago


I love to write, and I'll write just about anything. I seem to be most well known for my stupid little comedy pieces though...



This story is a sequel to Colors

I've been feeling empty lately. Not sad, not happy, just... empty. I fake a smile around the girls. I don't know if they notice.

There is something that ends the emptiness. I don't like it, but I'd rather feel pain than nothing. So long as the girls don't notice. I don't need that kind of attention, or worry.

AN/ this story contains descriptions of cutting and self harm. It doesn't describe the act, but does describe the aftermath. If you don't read it because of that, I understand.

Chapters (5)
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Comments ( 36 )

There's not a lot to say, but I like the ending :ajsleepy:

Sounds like a great beginning to a great journey.
Keep it up


...Well, that's depressing.

Thanks :)
The journey already started. It's just a slow, long one.
To be fair, it is a story about depression.

Wow. This is amazing so far. It’s kinda uncanny how similar I’ve been feeling these past couple of days and I can relate so much. I will definitely be following this story. Great job.

I have read this from the first chapter to the last. I must say you have described 'additive cutting' rather well in this story. Being one who has many times suffered from 'additive cutting' I must also say that you have done a very impressive job on this story. The sense of pain, guilt, and loss are very real in this story which is what makes it so good and so hard to read at the same time. Nice job keep up the impressive work.

Pretty edgy - i kinda think the whole cutting thing and how depressed sunset is is a bit over the top, but nice writing overall.

Human history...not interesting..? K.

Hell of a thought to end it on. Never felt the desire to try cutting personally, I always just let my mind wander about unimportant things until I had a reason to actually do something. Otherwise I found her attitude remarkably relatable.

Well, to be fair, she already had history courses about chaos magic tyrants, ice spirits that feed off of conflict, the avatar of the moon turning evil, etc.

Have you been cutting or done other things to feel pain just because you feel the need for pain? Because I have burnt myself with candles a lot bit because of that feeling...

I haven't cut, but I'm sure I've done other things to cause myself pain. I've struggled with this for years, actually.

19 plus 28 scabbing hard enough to bleed? that's a fucking lot for not being on the wrist. like... A FUCKING LOT. like, enough that it just completely destroyed the immersion what with her incredibly cavalier attitude. not that the breakneck pace of exposition didn't already do that... there's a lot of information here given in such a short span of time that hasn't really been spoken about before in the series. I mean god damn sunset, are you using a rusty meat cleaver or something? girl must have the pain tolerance of a fuckin racehorse. ...wait a minute...

now granted, everyone experiences self mutilation differently. I've got friends and family who have done it, and I'll admit that I've done it, and we've all done so in varying ways and places. But HOLY SHIT, 47 bleeding scabs on the belly and thighs IS VERY VERY BAD. You should be in a hospital twice by now! I really want to be respectful of the subject here but this is "I was born with glass bones and paper skin" levels of narm delivered in what reads in the same tone as "Hello my name is Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way". Granted I won't say this is a bad story or anything (and I actually feel really guilty for even mentioning My Immortal but that's the Hitler of fanfiction), but I have got to say something here. I had 15 all up and down my left arm a few months ago and they've just barely healed up now (I can still feel the bumps though), and they were all razor-thin and not deep enough to draw enough blood to scab hard enough that fabric tears them off. I am a fan of this series but the incredible lack of realism and depth of emotion here is really throwing me off in comparison to the previous entries. I'm sorry but it is not sitting well at all.

All fiction is a commentary on the contemporary times. Almost nothing is written for the sake of writing. The stuff they make us read is on the far other end though. It’s all full of symbolism and metaphor. It’s crap.

I like how the entire chapter exists just to have Sunset be angsty and pseudophilosophical and pretentious while calling out the practice of doing so

I feel this fic would have been better as a oneshot broken up into sections rather than individual chapters but that's just me

I can see the entire chapter in one screen and my mind's ear is begging for more variety in sentence structure. Noun verbs noun. Noun verbs noun. Article noun verb noun..Noum conjunction verb. Noun preposition verb noun. I know this is really sad and serious but I just can't bring myself to feel bad for this Sunset when every single line from her perspective is so dry and flat and monotone. There's not even anything WRONG here! There aren't any glaring fixable mistakes, it's just... skeletal. There's potential for a really good and poignant tale to be told here that I really want to read but I just... am not getting it.

Oh my god I'm so stupid I just realized THE FIC ITSELF IS AN ALLEGORY FOR DEPRESSION

I hope to god that was purposeful because holy SHIT if it was then... then I understand it now

everything is grey and dull and uneventful and the good parts fade into obscurity as if they didn't even happen, and all you can focus on is the bad parts, or worse, only the neutral parts. you don't do things because you want to but because you have to. this has got to be the literary equivalent of a trent reznor concept album circa the 90s.

I don't read comments before I slip ino the story generally, so I was waiting for you to get it. Yeah, it is.

Man, this is a big mood.

That was... Hm. It moved quickly, that's for sure. It also presented a lot of information quickly. It felt overwhelming for all the wrong reasons.

Man, for just under 500 words, this presented a lot of information.

This felt much better as a short chapter. It didn't try to cram in lots of information in such a short space.

That said, I agree with 8984774. I'm starting to feel like this would have worked better as one big chapter instead of a bunch of small ones.

I get what you were going for in breaking this up into small chapters, but I feel like each small chapter is trying to do too much. There's a lot of information you're trying to present, and the word count just isn't quite enough to do that information justice.

All in all, you had a good idea. I think the last couple chapters definitely worked a lot better than first couple. It's just that the information overload in such a short time was too much. I think maybe another couple hundred words in the early chapters to help slow down the rush would have kept the story from trying to do too much too quickly.

Pain can be nice at times. I'm obligated to say that cutting is wrong, since it is, but I can understand some of the sentiment behind it.
For someone that spends a bit too much time in their thoughts it can be nice to be brought into the world outside their head.

Pacing didn't really bother me, and in fairness I just hope Sunset gets the help she needs, even though she might not want it.
Life can be grim, bleak and painful at times, but it can be vibrant, colourful and joyous as well.
It might not be good for a while, and that's hard, but it rarely stays bad forever.
Everything is temporary, both sadness and happiness, live for the happy moments and try to live through the sad moments.
That's the best advice I've got.

I close the knife before putting it back. I pull a textbook from my bag and sigh. Homework time.

Come on Grab your pen we're gonna fill this work sheet in, with math and words, and all the thing, the problems never end its Homework Time.


Also, Good chapter, sorry that thought should have come first but my brains singing songs to lyrics that are not there.

You do you, ignore those people trying to tell you how to write. You can write in your own way.

A sharp pain brings me back to the present. I bite my lip to keep quiet. My shirt pulled across my scabs. I think a few of them got torn off. I lift my shirt and- yep. I’ve got three torn cuts on my stomach. Cuts I made myself. I’ve got nineteen between the bottom of my bra and the top of my jeans. Another twenty-eight on my thighs.

How is she still alive?

Emerald gave it to me.

Isn’t that the name of an oc?

Before the dance, they wouldn’t have dared; I would have beat the shit out of them.

I highly doubt it.

Still get the whole damn ‘Ohh, no offence,” crap. Like I need reminding of the raging she-demon I turned into. I just wish they’d shut up about it.

You could just talk to them about it.

I honestly don’t know what to say about this.

I go back home. Home. Such a strange word. There’s a saying, common to both worlds, ‘Home is where the heart is.’ What is the heart is broken? What if the heart doesn’t care anymore? Is home anywhere then?

I don’t think anyone has thought of that.

She must've given herself between light and deep cuts, which doesn't cause much bleeding for her to die.

But she doesn't want to is all she says

But, won’t they keep talking about it if she doesn’t?

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