hello i have a genuine question, this is not hate! why do you ship sakura and kakashi? does it not feel unsettling to you due to the circumstances, them meeting when she was 12 and he was 27; and him being her teacher at some point? again this is not hate i just wanted to ask.

No worries!

The main reason is that it's fiction—and the characters are not real people with real consequences. As an adult, I'm capable of separating fantasy from reality, and if we're not able to safely explore alternate avenues of thinking in fantasy, then what's the point of making/enjoying them in the first place?

If you're asking about it in the context of the show- then I could argue that having an age-gap relationship with someone who was once your teacher (and initiating that relationship only when they're an adult, without power dynamics being involved) at some point is way less unsettling compared to enjoying a piece of media glorifying a military state actively training child soldiers.

And less unsettling than having Sakura get with Sasuke, given the latter spent all of his on-screen time deriding/actively trying to kill the former.

If we step back, Naruto (like all fiction) has many complicated and heavy themes that could be considered quite problematic, so it's always interesting to see shipping dynamics front and center.

At the end of the day, none of it is real, and while disseminating and discussing is critical to the health of any piece of media or fandom, I don't think it's worth getting up in arms against people who are using that media to explore their own ideas in a safe, consequence-free environment.

Hope that answers your question, anon!

#JusticeForYuu

Warning: long rant coming up. Mentions of PTSD and Trauma.

So I recently read this manhwa called ‘Ashtarte’ and let me tell you, compared to other manhwas that I’ve read, I’ve never felt more vindicated or satisfied by the way it handles trauma and forgiveness.

Basically, the main character is a young princess, about ten or eleven or twelve I can’t remember, who has spent her entire life being treated like nothing by her entire family for no pretty much no reason at all. Trust me when I say that the neglect and emotional abuse she undergoes is awful and after a while, she realises that she doesn’t deserve to be treated that way. She mentally and emotionally emancipates herself from them and makes a family with her small handful of servants that live with her in her broken down house (let me tell you, they all love and protect her so much. Her mother figure/ best friend/ maid is the absolute GOAT), telling them that she won’t waste any tears on her bio family anymore. And when her bio family beg for forgiveness after she makes a very obvious effort to ignore and stay as far away from them as possible, she tells them that if they want her to even consider forgiving them for all the pain they put her through, they need to wait 10 years just like how she spent ten years all alone, trapped in that house, waiting for someone to love her. Even after the 5 year timeskip, she still doesn’t give them the time of day whilst they send her letters and mountains of gifts (that she never opens) and when she meets them again because of some obligatory family thing, she tells them point blank that there’s a chance that she’ll never forgive them and there’s nothing that she wants from them so just leave her alone and just walks out as they all suffer in their guilt.

And, let me tell you, as someone who has read a lot of female lead manhwas, I’ve never seen a FL not forgive a neglectful family - either they end up forgiven after an apology that lasts for like one chapter, or the MC gets her revenge and completely ruins them, or it’s an isekai story so now that a new person is possessing the main character, they finally decide to show interest and since the new character is either scared of them, is trying to gain their favour or has never undergone their horrible treatment of the host body, they just get off scot-free (A Match Made In Mana is a good example of this. Like the romance. Hate the fact that the older brother only started treating her right when another person isekaied into the main character - same thing with There Is No Place For Fakes)

Now what has this got to do with anime Disney boys you ask. Let me get to that.

Now I’m the kind of person that can hold a grudge - not that much in real life but very much so when it comes to fictional characters. If I was Jo March, I wouldn’t even be in the same room as Amy March after she burned the manuscript for at least a year. There are some characters that I just can’t stand because they never get the full consequences for what they put others through and I hate that so much (I’m not going to name names because a lot of them are fandom favourites and I don’t want to start a war). 

What I’m trying to say is that why can’t there be a Yuu that doesn’t forgive the overblot gang/dorms for what they put them through? Because you have to admit that they way that they treated this homeless, magicless human with absolutely nothing to their name and that is, in every instance, at the bottom of the food chain was awful. And I’m not talking about the overblots - they were clearly in the midst of a mental breakdown and weren’t in the right state of mind. But how would you explain everything that they did pre-overblot? When they are fully conscious of everything they did. Riddle even admitted after his overblot that he knew that he was being harsh but he still did that stuff anyway.

I know that we have to forgive everyone for the sake of the plot since we need Riddle in Book 2, Leona in Book 3, Azul in Book 4 and so on and so forth but when I remember the torment that Yuu faces, I just want to tell them all to take a hike. 

I know that these boys had horrible lives. I know that these are deeply traumatised individuals and that them overblotting was the only way for them to heal. But guess what? Going through trauma doesn’t excuse giving trauma to someone else? As Jake Peralta once said:

Confession Time - I was the anon that sent this: https://www.tumblr.com/shiny-jr/716948600309137408/hi-i-just-want-to-say-that-ive-read-all-of-your?source=share

And I still stand by what I said.

I just find it really annoying that when I search for angst fics it’s always the boys’ trauma or unrequited love or death or break ups - or maybe even something mentioning an overblot but I’ve never once found anything about the boys asking for forgiveness for what they did to Yuu prior to the overblots because once, just once, I want to read someone asking Yuu to forgive them and for Yuu to be selfish just once and say ‘no’

I know that I portray my fem!Yuu as this person that’s so sweet and forgiving and kind and soft and gentle but that’s because I’m obsessed with the dynamic of this sweet sunshine bubbly girl being a breath of fresh air to these villainous boys (and also because I kind of took some inspiration from my favourite princess, Snow White, and I based her a bit on Wendy Darling because I wanted her to be that ‘mature young girl’ who is very motherly but is still very much a fun-loving, imaginative child) but I just want a Yuu that is given the respect that they deserve.

I want a Yuu that actually experiences PTSD because of the treatment that they’ve undergone. I want them to hate the fact that their experience in NRC has changed them. I want them to hate that they’ve developed claustrophobia and a fear of the dark after they were forcefully imprisoned in Scarabia, I want them to hate how anything can trigger a PTSD-induced flashback, I want them to hate how Riddle’s jabs at their character and parentage still ring in their head after all this time, I want them to hate how whenever they’re submerged in water, all they can remember is what Azul, Jade and Floyd put them through in their attempts to get their home and family back. I want them to hate how often they get nightmares, how any second could be the day they finally get killed by any of these magic users who are far more powerful than them. I want them to look in the mirror and despise every single scar that litters their once unblemished body. I want them to hate how they had to ask the people who stripped them of their home and the only family they had in NRC for help in Book 4 because now they are indebted to them and they have no idea when Azul would want to cash that.

I’ve seen fics that have Yuu go through heatstroke during the marches in Scarabia and, as someone that not only has had heatstroke before but also had a really scary fainting experience I headcanon that as well so how about a Yuu that turns down Kalim’s invitations because the sight of Scarabia reminds them of the hostility that they faced when they were the most vulnerable. How about a Yuu that tries not to hate Kalim because he’s a genuinely nice person and was the only one to welcome them with kindness but can’t help but feel bitter whenever they hear the housewarden excuse Jamil’s behaviour when they still remember how they were locked up against their will.

This fic by linawritestwst and this fic by the-hearteater portray what I’m talking about really well. (taxonomize our differences by Jemimimi does a really good job of illustrating how being in Twised Wonderland affects Yuu’s mental health - there’s an incredible scene where Yuu has a panic attack and teaches Grim how to help them out of it. I nearly cried because their sense of self worth is so low and suicidal tendencies are so unstable that in multiple points of the story they try to get other students to kill them and Yuu my baby 😭)

When I go through the Rollo x reader fics, the majority of them are either yandere or the usual fluff. But Rollo can actually be a good friend for Yuu to have. Whilst their mentalities are different, they both agree that magic is dangerous - with Yuu being a victim of said magic. I honestly think that, if he wasn’t written as the big bad of the event, he could’ve been a really good ally that would understand Yuu’s pain of not only facing overblot after overblot but their helplessness of being surrounded by magical individuals and not knowing whether they’ll be able to survive another day.

Everyone’s always like #Crowley Slander (which he rightfully deserves, I am thisclose to punting him) but don’t forget everything the boys did. I see fics where they stand up to Crowley for Yuu but the most they do is reference the overblots but never that they did horrible things as well. Crowley may have told Yuu to stay behind during the winter holidays but Jamil was the one who imprisoned us and prevented us from contacting our friends for help. Crowley may have made Yuu stay at Ramshackle (although to be fair Ramshackle is kind of the safest option - who knows what would happen to Yuu if their magical self was in an actual dorm, especially all of the female Yuus. I think living in isolation is kind of the best option for them when the universe is out to get them. Plus, the ghosts are amazing company.) but Azul was the one who made us homeless and had a shady business (that he still has even after the overblot). Crowley may have been blackmailing Yuu with food, shelter and money but Leona was the one that was sabotaging the students and Vil was the one that tried to point blank kill an innocent child in cold blood after making his childhood trauma and personal one-sided rivalry everyone’s problem for the weeks leading up to the VDC.

Everyone only treated them with respect after the overblot incidents - so they literally had to put themselves in danger and nearly die for them to be treated as not a nobody. When Riddle made those completely uncalled for jabs at Yuu, an innocent bystander, nobody said or did anything. Not Trey, who enabled Riddle’s reign of terror and quietly observed the suffering all of the Heartslabyul students (and then had the gall to tell adeuceyuu not to get angry at Riddle because of course tragic backstory = forgiveness), not Cater, who canonically has a hidden side so Yuu has more of a reason not to trust him, not any of the other card soldiers - no Ace, the one everyone writes off as a stupid tactless jerk that does badly in school and only causes trouble, was the only one that had the emotional intelligence to realise that Yuu’s feelings were hurt and was the only one who cared to do something about it via sucker punching the tantrum-throwing tyrant.

(I can’t remember if Deuce did anything but he already stood up for us during the egg debacle so it’s okay he’s still my number one love)

(Also: Riddle is known to be incredibly strict with his dorm. It’s been said that Heartslabyul has the best academic record because of Riddle’s incredibly high standards. He also doesn’t take excuses from anyone even if they aren’t even in the wrong - which is seen when he exiles adeuceyuu from the dorm during the Mont Blanc Tart Incident where Trey tells Riddle that he was the one who told them to make the tart for the party and Riddle says that it was still their fault for not knowing the rules beforehand because of course a first year would have memorised all 810 rules by their like third day and it would be perfectly normal of them to ask a senior for advice on what to do. My question is: how many dyslexic students or anyone else with learning disabilities do you think Riddle has sent crying? How many students with less than stellar family backgrounds joined NRC only to find that they were sorted into a dorm that had a leader who not only holds their abusive mother’s teaching methods on a pedestal but is more than ready to hurl insults at anyone that disagrees with him? How many times had Trey seen an innocent student receive unfair treatment and kept quiet about it despite it being his job as a vice dorm leader and upperclassman to look after them?)

I know that so many people want Yuu to overblot or go through their villain arc so that the boys can be put in that place but why do we even have to go that far? If Yuu did have magic they would have overblotted ages ago but even so why do they need to have a mental breakdown so that others could see where they went wrong? Remember an overblot can kill its host and Yuu doesn’t need another near death experience. 

I want Yuu to be like Ashtarte and just have a small circle of friends and family in Ace, Deuce, Grim and the Ramshackle ghosts and tell everyone else to bog off. I want Ace, Deuce and Grim to be like the maid, Leona/Loena - different translations have different spellings (she is such a protective mama bear I love her so much. She literally calls out royalty to their faces, is ready to throw hands with the entire world and is willing to risk her own life for Ashtarte’s happiness) and act as Yuu’s guard dogs to prevent anyone from coming near them. Ace, Deuce and Grim have been there since the beginning, they’re Yuu’s ride or die besties that know what they’re going through, they’re platonic soulmates who can clearly see the emotional turmoil on weighing down on them. I want them to witness how Yuu is affected by their PTSD with their panic attacks and nightmares and bouts of depression and dissociation and then doing their best to learn how to help them. I want Yuu to refuse to step foot in another dorm and just go to NRC for classes and then disappear into Ramshackle. I want Ace and Deuce to run interference in case anyone approaches their friend because can’t you see that they don’t want to talk to you, who’s not afraid to stand up to anyone be it teachers or upperclassmen because haven’t they done enough damage. 

Yes, Ace is a jerk but he’s not a mean bully of a jerk. He’s just a stupid tactless teenage boy who just needs to be humbled once or twice - he’s completely harmless unlike Sebek and his humanphobic bigoted butt who should definitely keep his comments to himself because Yuu already has enough troubles without someone reminding them of how inferior their species is.

I want these boys to feel guilt - not because of their overblots but because they were actually horrible people before they tried to kill a defenseless, magicless human. I want Yuu to not only lose trust in the main characters but also with everyone else because they never know who would hurt or betray them next - who would be like Trey or Rook and enable bad behaviour, or who would be like Azul and take advantage of their weaknesses, or who would be like Jamil and pretend to be their friend and then stab them in the back. I want a Yuu that’s tired of being manipulated and used by everyone and is just done with everything.

As much as I love parental!Staff, you have to admit that canonically, they’ve done a pretty bad job of looking after Yuu so how about a Yuu that doesn’t trust adults because they’ve shown no interest in actually being someone that Yuu can open up to. Also, Azul was able to get away with everything he did was because he had Crowley in his pocket - who’s to say that he doesn’t have other adults under his thumb as well? (We know he doesn’t but how can Yuu be sure)

I want Yuu to be friends with Neige because he seems like such a sweetheart and I really don’t like how I see fics putting him down just to make Vil look good. As I mentioned above, Snow White is my favourite Disney Princess and sharing a spot with Pooh Bear as my favourite Disney character so a darling boy that is inspired by her would be an awesome friend to have - and he has never caused Yuu physical, verbal, emotional or mental harm.

Don’t get me wrong. I know that this is making me come off as a hater but I just want some justice for Yuu. They deserve absolutely nothing that they go through and I want happiness for them.

Also, on a completely unrelated note, I may have been listening to Numb Little Bug a tad bit too much.

Title: Union

Yandere! The ‘General!’ x fem! Reader!

(Mr Villain's Day Off)

Warnings: general yandere themes, toxic relationship, blood and slight(?) gore, violence (reader’s neck is bitten), idealization/fantasies of murder, implied possessiveness, and obsessiveness, implied codependent behavior.

I took liberation with this and created the custom of the General’s species biting the neck of their lover as some sort of vow. Like with Omega Au.

He’s out of character in this lmao.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/LURKERS/DNI

Disclaimer: I do not support or encourage any of the toxic and harmful behaviors/thoughts that may take place in this piece of fiction. It should not be romanticized or even considered normal as it is both extremely toxic and dangerous.

Word count: 1261k

---

His teeth hurt.

Sharp and pearly white, now stained with your blood. Your nails claw into his shoulders, his trench coat softening the impact. He’s more like a vampire and not an alien, you think. This twisted sense of… union isn’t really your thing. Not when it involves teeth and blood, the ritual being repeated once every other year, something that is expected and welcomed by his species.

You wouldn’t have minded it if you had decided to stay. But you do because you wanted out, tired of his little secrets, the long nights, the hidden phone calls. You would have rather that he was cheating on you, an unfaithful bastard who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

Instead, you got an alien who didn’t understand what ‘no’ meant.

A little too faithful, too love stricken to see past that beautiful, beautiful tinted rose filter. And he wanted the same from you, it seems. With sharp teeth and an iron grip, he held you in place, desperate after an hour of pleas that were so unlike him.

One of his hands held the back of your neck, keeping you in place. His ring feels cold, his blunt nails feel sharp, he’s stronger, bigger than you. Resistance was futile.

His teeth dig deeper, rougher. Tears form in your eyes, running down your face in big, fat streaks, sobbing into the collar of his coat. Everything is a blur, and his free hand rubs circles into your back, attempting to soothe you. It doesn’t, it makes you feel worse because it reminds you that this man is not just a monster but has feelings and guilt like everyone else –

You genuinely, genuinely hate this alien? Man? You despise him, wanted to scalp him alive, to stab a knife through his heart until the only color you could see was red. But you would never be able to do that. Nor will you be able to drive a knife through your own heart just to escape your dammed faith.

“I’m sorry, please endure it for a bit longer…,” he gasps out before he sinks his teeth into your neck again. Your own dug into his hair, fingers pulling at his roots. The tears don’t stop and neither does his bite.

“Hurts – it hurts!” sobbing, you still attempt to push and pull his head away, but to no avail. It’s a miracle you’re still alive, breathing, and able to think. Crimson runs down your neck, stains your pretty lacy white shirt, all the while the man enjoys his sweet, sweet time with you. Like enjoying a juicy steak.

“…Hah… it’s done,” his tone, despite being comforting, was a shrill scream in your ear. His tongue pokes out, only to lick the wound, saliva mixing in with blood. It’s slimy and roughish, with a squishiness to it. Like a warm wet rag pressed against your neck. The only difference being it’s an organic tongue and not some fabric.

“… I’m sorry,” another lick, another circle rubbed onto your back. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts –

“I know it hurts… I forgot how… fragile humans could be. I’m sorry.” Too tired to fight back anymore, you fall limp in his embrace. Your jaw goes slack, eyelids too heavy to keep open. The void is calling for you.

You should have rejected his help, that day. You should have carried those heavy bags up the stairs that day, even if it meant you would have pulled a muscle or two. You should have ignored him when you kept running into him, both of you surprised to see the other so frequently. You should have kept your mouth shut and feelings hidden, your confession forgotten and your first kiss nonexistent.

Should have done this, should have done that – it’s too late to wallow in the past. The mirror cracked long ago, just like your sense of self. Like your trust in the one person who should have been your ‘everything.’ Whatever that was.

Something you realized was harmful for you, but he refused to acknowledge it. To accept it.

You should have rejected his invitation to his apartment. To get your stuff back. You should have avoided him instead of still trusting him once he let his true identity slip through that tongue of his. How naïve and stupid of you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid girl.

“I haven’t felt this way about anyone, before.”

Neither have you.

“You make me rethink my stance on humans.” He sits you down on his couch, reaching for the medical supplies sitting at the side. He prepared for this. He’s always been ready for this.

You never had a say-so in the matter. How cruel.

“You make me question myself, and what I’m fighting for.” Your eyes shut close, a towel – wet and warm – pressed against the open wound. He holds it there for a good while. Assuring that his prized ‘lover’ would be patched up in no time.

“Our customs are different from yours. It’s painful, even for us. But you don’t have to relive this pain.” You’re vaguely aware of the cotton ball, of the scent of medical ointments and the towel being pressed against the bleeding wound once more. You’re too tired to open your eyes, but you fear you might die if you don’t.

“… You should… have let me go.” It’s broken and weak, almost less than a whisper, but you manage to talk. It’s painful and took extreme amounts of effort, but you talked. You almost wish you would die – but the fear of meeting nothing but a black abyss on the other side of the road scares you more than this fiend.

He doesn’t say anything. Just tends to the wound that he inflected on you like it was just another Tuesday night. You never asked for this. You would have never asked for this, the pain, the betrayal he’s hidden from you these past two years.

You almost wish he only said ‘yes’ just to use you. A sick twisted sense of humor, a past time he could always forget at a later date. Amusement that would grow boring, dull. A toy he could have left in an open field, neither destroying it nor loving it.

If this was a romance story, then this would have been the best ending. Two crossed-star-lovers who put aside their differences to be together. One changing his view on the ‘enemy’ because his sweetheart was from that group. They fail to show the ugly side of ‘love.’

You had chosen a rotten apple and now it has poisoned you.

“… I know that you must hate me.”

You do, you hate him as much as you fear him.

“But I…”

Ring!

Ring!

Ring!

His phone goes off exactly three times before he fishes it out of his coat pocket, a sneer displayed on his mouth. His teeth show, dyed red. Still sharper than a knife.

You don’t get to see the caller ID.

“– General! Listen, I know that it is your off day – “

“Get to the point. I’m giving you five seconds before I hang up.”

You don’t get to hear the conversation, either. You could barely feel the wet rag dabbing your neck. Or the smell of herbs. You wonder if he would let you die just like this. Or if he would find a way to ‘save’ you.

Nothing matters anymore, you suppose.

Not when the ‘General’ decided that you were lovelier than a rose and brighter than the stars amongst a darken sky.

M A S T E R L I S T

Hey!! My names luxen!!

Feel free to leave constructive criticism/feedback! If you'd like, you can add me to your tag list or asked to be added to mine.

Rules:

1. I do not write for real people (Letitia Wright, Dominique Thorne), only fictional characters (Shuri Udaku, Riri Williams).

2. Any and all x readers will be POC.

3. I will not write incest, r/pe, or any kind of unconsensual sexual things.

4. I do not and will not write anything that has to do with Nashuri.

5. You can vent in my ask box if needed <3.

6. I only write for women(this may change).

7. If you ask for a certain fic and it doesn't get done in a certain time frame, please remember that I've got a life outside of Tumblr and that I will try my best to start or finish it!

8. I don't write smut. I’m too young for it.

9. As of now, I only write for Shuri and Riri.

10. Do not rush me to finish any pieces of work.

MY WORKS

SHURI UDAKU

Shuri Udaku headcannons

lovesick!shuri who's a softy. She loves you. You know she loves you, she knows she loves you and she'll be damned if she doesn't let everyone in all of Wakanda know, too. Shuri isn't afraid to show you off when the two of you are in public. She doesn't get too territorial when it comes to you because she knows that you're hers and she's yours.

Keep me close

"It's a promise ring," she says quickly, "I know you're not ready for marriage yet, my love."

You put the ring on your ring finger, a smile on your face.

Shuri kisses you on the forehead and places one of the onesies in your hands. "You take a shower and I'll make us something to eat, alright?"

Grief

Shuri sits up slowly. She breathes in deeply and unlocks the door. "Why're you here?" Her voice is low and raspy, surprising both of them. It had been a while since Shuri had actually said something out loud.

"I heard you weren't doing so good so I came to check on you," Riri says. She's worried. Shuri can see it all over her face and hear it in her voice but she doesn’t want to be a burden.

Addiction

There were times when you would get upset about her drinking while she was drinking and she would always talk you down. Not in a bad way, Shuri doesn't like yelling to resolve an argument or a disagreement. It doesn't solve anything to raise your voice, it only makes you and the situation more hostile. Shuri would wait for you to stop talking and then politely ask if you could lower your tone. She doesn't do it to guilt trip or make you feel guilty or anything, she just can't stand yelling. And if you do actually lower your tone and calm yourself down, the two of you talk reasonably for hours. You tell her what happened, why you're mad, and how the situation escalated to the point where you had to raise your voice.

★

RIRI WILLIAMS

Stay with me

You open the car door, smiling at the red and pink bouquet of flowers on your seat. You look over at Riri, who also has a smile on her face.

"Ri, when did you have the time to get these?" You finish your sentence while getting in the car, the flowers on your lap, "They are literally stunning."

"I got em while you were napping during your foot massage. Figured it was the only time I had to disappear for minute without you noticin'."

Something new

You stand there for another minute or two before deciding that since she wouldn't address her absence then you would. "So, we're not gonna talk about the fact that you just up and left, again, this morning?"

Shuri shrugs and sits down on the couch. "What sense does it make? You ask, I ignore you and the cycle repeats? No thanks."

"Why can't you communicate with me?" "For Bast's sake, y/n." Shuri groans and rolls her eyes. "Here you go, again."

Gf!Riri hcs

She falls asleep whenever you two are watching a movie or even when you two are just alone. She feels safe with you at all times so she knows to lower her guard.

She is 100% a homebody. She likes leaving the house but she also doesn’t. If she has to choose between staying home and going out, she’s gonna pick staying in and especially if you're staying home with her.

Nervous

"Tryna get drunk already, Ri?"

"Thats what we came here for, isn’t it?"

"You do know that shit is gonna give you a nasty ass hangover, right?"

Riri shrugs and chugs her drink. It only takes a few seconds before she starts coughing quietly. It was spicy and left her throat a little sore but she liked it. She filled her cup again while Shuri watched.

"Don't come to me tomorrow morning begging me to make you something to eat and drink, you know? I gave you your warning."

You haven't seen my girl

The way Riri always looked at you with love in her eyes made you melt. It’s like she’s a cartoon character with hearts for eyes. Whenever she talked about you to somebody she’d always say “My girl”. You liked that. Being called her girl was something you lived for.

There weren’t enough words in the English language that could explain how much love Riri has for you in her heart. Every time she looks at you, a love song plays in her head. It’s not a sexual love song. It’s a slow, romantic one. Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey. That explains her love for you. That plays in her head whenever you’re in her view, and honestly, it makes her fall even deeper in love with you each time.

Just seeing you smile, seeing you write, cook, draw, seeing you do things that she knows you love, makes her fall even more in love with you. It’s not the fact that you do things that you like, it’s the fact that you do them with a smile on your face. Cooking, writing, and drawing all bring you happiness, and for Riri to be able to experience that in real-time makes her heart flourish.

Trust in her

"Rianna?" She moves closer. "That's my name now?"

"I'm not callin' you Riri when you tryna play wit me." You put your lipgloss on and look at yourself in the mirror. You look good and you know it.

"You look good, mama," Riri says, coming behind you and kissing your head. "You sure you don't want me coming with you?"

"So you can beat the hell outta some nigga that look at me the wrong way?" You laugh, "Nah, Ion want no drama tonight, but if you promise to behave then you can come with me."

You see her smile. "Aight, I'ma behave."

★

SHURI X RIRI

At the end of the day

Shuri put her hand in chest and sank to the floor, crying. "Griot," she says softly.

"Yes, my queen?" The A.I answers.

"Call Riri. Tell her it's an emergency."

"Calling Mrs. Williams now."

Riri rushed into the lab, frantically looking around for her wife. She stopped for a second and heard crying. It was soft but she was able to figure out where it was coming from.

Riri kneeled down next to Shuri, "Baby, what happened?"

Roller skating

Riri wraps her hand around Shuri's waist to hold her upright. She's clinging on for dear life. They move slowly towards the counter. Once they've made it, Riri notices how Shuri is slightly less tense but still scared. Riri asks for the trainer and gives it to Shuri. Shuri feels embarrassed having to use a trainer to skate, like everyone's gonna be staring at her once she's in the rink.

"You're okay, my love." Riri says softly. "I know you're scared but I'm not gonna let you get hurt."

Shuri closes her eyes and breathes in deeply and opens her eyes. They're on the rink. She didn't even feel them move.

Riri stays behind her the whole time, hands on her hips, moving her forward when needed. "Keep moving, ma, you got it." She says proudly.

Vacation (coming ???)

Didn't deserve

“Are you hungry?” Shuri asked Imani from the kitchen. No response. Shuri rolled her eyes and went over to her girlfriend, standing in front of her. “Can you just tell me why you’re ignoring me?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you should remember. It’s not my fault your memory is shit.”

“And it’s not my fault that you’re having this one-sided ass fight over something I don’t even fucking remember, Imani. We're dating, aren’t we? We’re supposed to be able to talk to one another when we have issues but instead you're pushing me away and ignoring me.”

Didn't deserve part 2

"Imani?" Shuri says, causing her to turn around. She looks… different. A good different. But Shuri won't let herself fall for that trick again. "Why're you here?"

"I came to apologize." Her voice is different, too. It sounds more mature than Shuri remembered. "I was tryna reach out to you last night so that we could actually schedule a day that you weren't busy so I could come by but you didn't answer so I figured an apology in person would be better."

Shuri keeps her guard up while Imani talks, her arms folded over chest. "I don't forgive you."

Imani stays quiet for a few seconds. "What? Shuri, I said I was sorry."

"Yeah, and I do not forgive you. You put me through hell, Imani, and I know you didn't seriously come here thinking that those two words would make you forgive you for everything. And, to be honest, I would tell you how fucked up in the head I am because of you, but knowing you, you'd probably use it against me in the future, if we even talk. So, why don't you just save both of our time and tell me why you're really here."

A Double Edged Sword

Chapter Two: Like a Fart in a Dust Storm 

It hasn't taken long for Mando to realize that you have an ability he wants to acquire. If only he can control his urges when he is free of his armor.

I really don't think this chapter requires a warning it's just starting to warm up. If there is something missing in the way I am posting these, please let me know. This is only my second chapter of my first Fan Fiction.

Word count: 3,200

The following morning felt disorienting. Waking in a place you are unaccustomed to requires a little more conscious reasoning. You give a stretch and pop your toes out from under your shroud. You lift it off your head and drape it onto your shoulders ready to face the day. You are aware that Mando is behind the controls and it occurs to you that by sleeping in the chair you were kind of invading his space. You decide that it’s high time you were upright and you adjust the chair appropriately. You turn to apologize telling Mando “I really didn’t intend to sleep here but I…” you Start to say as you shake your head. “You were drained.” He finishes for you. “Is it always like that?” He seems curious about this ability. “No” you explain “If you are with someone that…” and you decide to cut that sentence. “It depends on the situation.”, “But it can actually energize you.”

Mando offers you a chance to rummage through his collection of dehydrated goodies to fill your belly for breakfast. You accept that offer but feel the need to tell him you have brought a few things of your own. “How long will that last you?” He asks. “At least 7 days.”You assure him. You can tell he thinks you are woefully ill prepared so you agree to eat a little of what he has on hand. “Looks like you’re stocked up for a month!”. “Always” he retorts. 

You retreat to your area among the crates in back to refuel your body and think about the events of the previous day.  You sense that the Mandalorian has just begun to realize that he can actually reach out with his mind. The child opened his eyes to this as he just naturally felt the need to reach back when trying to communicate with the little guy. He always had it to some degree. He had honed his ability and had heightened senses but had always put it down to a hunters instinct. But THIS was NOT that. 

You realize that just like Most of the beings you’ve encountered, you have made him uncomfortable. Or at least you think that’s what is bugging him. You pull your shroud over your head again and you sink a bit lower. You shake your head and feel a sense of shame as you think to yourself. “I can even make a man wearing armor uncomfortable.” You feel a twinge in the pit of your stomach. You think its maybe guilt , and maybe it’s not even yours.

Hours go by as you sit slumped. You begin to drift. Your vision returns but ….he is closer now and more well  defined. As if he’s right in front of you. Close enough to reach out and touch. He is observing you closely as if your shroud didn’t exist. “Look at me” he says, and you raise your eyes to meet his. You immediately feel like you are floating in his orbit. “Damn” you think “This guy is powerful”. 

You detect a slight grin  on his face as he moves closer to look into your eyes, “Can You….see me?” He asks, searching your eyes for  an answer.  It’s as if he has been a soul adrift, invisible to everyone. You look at him quizzically wondering why this is even a question. Of course you can see him. But wants you to say it. “Can you see me?” He repeats slowly. “Yeah” you answer “I’m not blind.”  Even on the astral plane you’re kind of a smart ass. His arms reach out as if to grab your shoulders and hold you in place. The moment he touches you…Poof! Like a fart in a dust storm, He’s gone.

You hear a clatter from the cockpit as Mando curses “Dank Ferrick”. He is clearly agitated. He slides down the ladder in a split second. “What the hell was that?” His modulated voice sounds like it’s straining to get out. “What do you mean?”. He struggles to express himself. “You-you-you”, he can’t even form a whole sentence “ME?” You counter raising your voice. “Come on now, use your words” He repeats it very deliberately. “You can see me?” In that moment it all makes sense. “Ohhhhh! You say as you draw it out. Then you tone drops “Ohh”. Now you get it. It was him! And he’s totally freaked that you SAW him. As is your way, with sarcasm is turned up to eleven “Yeah, I can see you,” and with a drama queen delivery with an arm across your forehead,  “Ohhhh, a fate worse that death.”  

“You don’t understand” he says.  With that you find yourself advancing on him. “Oh yeah, tell me what I don’t understand.” As you poke him in the gut to emphasize your point. “I don’t understand the need to shield myself from the outside world?” You poke again, he’s actually backing away as you bark , “I don’t understand why YOU hide in there?”, Finally you have him backed him up all the way to the ladder. “Oh, this is so ironic, a man of steel with a marshmallow center.”  Finally he reacts “At least I’m not trying to be invisible” he spews at you.

He plants a single finger in the middle of your chest to push you slowly away from him.  You both stand there glaring at each other. Fuming. In an effort to get the last word you tell him “At least I don’t feel the need to cover my face ALL the time.”,  “Only when I need to filter out hundreds of other people’s thoughts or if the environment is mentally toxic……or (as you raise your voice) WHEN I’M DEALING WITH AN ASSHOLE.” With that you grab the shroud off your shoulders and throw it over your head.” Your jutting you chin out in defiance.” 

As if Mando found you utterly ridiculous you hear a deep laugh forcing its way through his modulator and cresting into a big belly laugh. You slide your head out of your shroud to see him with his head thrown back, hand over his stomach just shaking with laughter. He sounds like he can’t even catch his breath. The crescendo ending with a high pitched “Aah” and dropping his pitch for the second “aahh” and then the third lower still “aahhhhhh” trails off as if it was the dying sound of a siren being shut off.

“You gonna be alright?” You say as you wag your head again. Your smart ass head jiggle starts him up again. “Oh and you’re laughing at me again?” You hate to admit it but it was kinda funny. As if this warrior would actually be intimidated by you even for a second. He looks as if his knees are gonna buckle as he leans back on the ladder. He straightens up, clears his throat and goes serious again. He curls his hand around you wrist. “Well” He says “We do have a problem.”,  “If you can see me, I’m gonna have to kill you.” Your eyes open wide as you look at him with shock. Your incredulous look at him sends him into another deep laugh that throws his head back. “Oh, you’re FUNNY now?”. He’s shaking his head and covering his visor with a gloved hand. 

You realize however that in the naked light of day this whole situation has you both a little on edge. You’ve seen him, the real him, that’s the picture of him is in your mind now.  He also has seen the real you, completely un-shrouded. It’s a little unnerving. But maybe you can work with it. You need to address this. "The only way this works is if you face it head on." You reason with him. “Look, I have had experiences with empathy all my life but I have no formal training.” “You are an instinctive communicator  just discovering your ability.”

“As long as we are aware of it, and we don’t dance around it, maybe I could help you develop it to a point where you can communicate with your kid easier.”, “Maybe even visit him.” Astral travel is actually the same as distance viewing but with the intent to be with a specific person."

With that, Mandos’ head leaned toward you. You could see he was keen to learn about this. “Deal?” He says without asking any questions. Mando offers you his hand to shake.“We may as well make the most of it.”

You feel the need to add “As long as you can accept that I see your astral form.”, “It’s not like seeing your face”, “And it’s not like I’ll have anyone to tell.” Even though you know that what you can sense of him is much more revealing than his face.

Your last statement hung in his mind “It’s not like I’ll have anyone to tell.” He considers these words with a touch of sadness. Sad that you were in this position through no fault of your own. You had no agenda. You didn’t allow your thoughts to intrude on anyone else. You respond to his thought.  “I did the best I could to stay within the boarders of…..my own skin.”, “You know, Like everybody else does.”, “Well, almost everybody.” He can feel that this really tugs at your heart and carries regret for you but that you have come to believe that this is your lot in life.  That you have no choice but to sequester yourself like a castaway on a desert island.

“Don’t feel sorry for me Mando.” You can tell that those words are useless. Just saying that doesn’t change how he thinks about it. “Look” you say to him “If you feel sorry for me I can feel that. That makes me pitiful, And I am not to be pitied.” 

He can accept that. He even kind of likes it. He certainly can respect it. It also let him know how you deal with it. These abilities you walk around with are uncommon and he can sense that you have more control than you realize. He knew that this was a skill he wanted to learn. 

So many possibilities. He wanted to know all the details he hadn’t heard from you yet. All those things you held back, all those sentences you never finished. So he pushed.

He peppered you with a barrage of questions and was concerned about how “Traveling” drained you. He remembered you telling him that it wasn’t always that way and that it depended on the situation. “So” he probed. “What is the situation that keeps your “Journeys” from draining you?” This was a subject you hadn’t wanted to broach but it was clear to you that this was a man that saw right through you. You can't just omit part of it. Reluctantly you tell him. “If you are traveling to someone that you..know, that you are close to, it becomes effortless.” You know you need to be as clear as possible. “If you are going to see someone you care about, or have known intimately, it’s like teleporting.”,  “You are there in an instant.” You can see that Mando’s interest is piqued” He is suddenly leaning toward and listening with great focus. “I wish I was a better teacher” you admit to him that this was something that just sort of happened to you. "I never had any formal training."

Having a military background stretching back to his childhood Mando approached this new idea like a skill he needed to train for. He sensed your reluctance but was undeterred by it. He knew you would do the best you could to guide him through this odd new universe. So he set up a schedule for.…Training. There was so much to explain but Mando convinced you that he leaned best through practical application and urged you to jump right in.

”Ok, first thing’s first.”, You need to be lying down or reclined.”, “You need to be completely comfortable.” Mando follows your instructions, reclines in his pilot seat and you have him start deep breathing. You continue bringing him deeper and deeper into this relaxed state. From your seat adjusted all the way back, you talk him through it. You Speak more and more slowly as you guide him deeper and deeper. “Now you are in a place where you can drift.”, “You feel that you are  floating on a cloud.” At that moment Mando clears his throat and turns his head in your direction.  You pull your consciousness back to address a concern he must have. “I felt it.” He says “No, I didn’t just feel it, I was,…for a moment, I was….out.”, “Then suddenly I was pulled back to my body.” So you ask “what did you do that pulled you back?” “Explain to me exactly what happened.” He tells you “I tried to open my eyes.” 

“Yes” you tell him “Opening your eyes is a physical action.” “Opening your eyes is something you body does.”, “There are so many subtle distinctions in the actions you can take.”, “You need to learn these.” “You need to learn how to SEE rather than open your eyes.” “You’ve done it already.” You add “When I was in the cargo bay and you were in the cockpit.” “I was half asleep” he tells you. “And I was just thinking.”, “Yeah.” you tell him. “That how it works.”, “You were…Out.” 

He realizes that this is somehow more complicated and yet simpler at the same time. “Yes.” You tell him “It’s both.”, “ Do you want more explanation?” “Or do you want to just try again?” “Both.” He answers. Boy is he eager. “Ok” you tell him “The part of you that you felt like it was floating, the part of you that was…out, That’s your soul or your spirit or your astral body. Whatever you want to call it”, “It’s that part of you that is actually you.” “The physical body that you walk around in has very little to do with that.” “It’s kind of like a vehicle.” You ask him to remember when he “Visited” you before. You remind him that he has to use his senses differently on that other level, in that other plane. He hears you take in a long cleansing breath and settle back in position for another run. You let him take himself back down to that state. You just have him do what he did before. 

You are quickly drawn back to that state where your breathing becomes deep and regular. You become aware that Mando is mirroring your breathing. Your heart rate slows and becomes synced with his.

You feel yourself begin to extend beyond the edges of you body.  This time you aren’t trying to GO anywhere so you just hover. It only takes a few minutes and Mando is right there with you. When he did this before he didn’t have any awareness of what he was doing. He is now struck by the fact that he,…his ‘image’ is right in front of  you, another living being. It is so freeing to him. You are in the same position as you were in the chair but your astral body floats above your physical body. Mando is all over the place. Moving around testing his 'wings' so to speak. He comes close to you to see you. He has a look on his face like he is so pleased that he can do this. He smiles, and you return the look. “How do you?, Is it possible to touch someone?” He asks. 

“Well it’s kind of a matter of stretching yourself towards…” You search for words that will make your meaning clear, “You know how you are moving..?” You don’t even finish the thought and he’s right next to you. He’s pressing his cheek to yours with his mouth right next to your ear. You feel you heart rate and respirations jump. “Mando, this is too��“ you are finding it difficult to talk. “Too close?” he breathes in your ear. “I don’t know if I can,…” “Yes you can” he cuts you off.  He is so touch starved in his day to day existence that he seems driven to have no space between you. 

He feels the freedom of being without him armor, his helmet. He finds that he can touch you and press his face against yours and yet he’s still lying there in his pilot seat, fully helmeted, creed intact. There are almost too many revelations occurring to him at once.

He had shielded himself from the world for all of his adult life. Now he is experiencing contact. More than he has ever experienced before. There is nothing more intimate that this kind of contact. An astral body is much more fluid than a physical body. You don’t necessarily end where the other person begins. The lines are blurred. 

Mando is keenly aware of the effect he is having on you. He felt your heart rate rise and he is enjoying this. You attempt to pull yourself back into your physical body but it’s as if he is completely wrapped around you.  

You can’t separate from him. You feel his arms around wrap around your waist and his hands on your back. He pulls you into him as he buries his face in your neck.  The feeling is overwhelming. You bring your arms up to place them in front of his chest. Maybe he won’t be aware that it makes no difference in this state. You rest your hands on his shoulders if only to orient yourself. Doing your best to calm the storm going on inside you.

He backs up just enough to look into your eyes. He studies your face looking from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek with his fingers on one side of your face and his thumb resting on your chin. “Is it possible, in this state…to kiss?” He asks.“I don’t really think.” Was all you managed to get out when he brought his lips to yours. You feel a rush from being kissed. You feel as if you are being carried down a river with swirling eddy’s and ripples. It is carrying you and you have no choice but to allow yourself to go. 

Mando is unaware that when in this state, if you encounter an irresistible force you must allow it to take you. If you fight against the current (so to speak) you could end up lost, unable to return to your body. You just have to ride this wave till it subsides.

@astrodezignign @itszhunotz @musesofthenight @dev1lm4n

AAHH NO I MEANT SPECIFICALLY.

I was just genuinely intrigued because I have never really thought about it too hard, shipping twins, but with the art the and the text posts and they way you interpreted them was something I was really enjoying, and then I started to feel guilty, becuase they're twins. I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be an ass with that ask, I just didn't know how to word it better in a casual way. I'm sorry.

if that's the case, then we're all good anon!

and let me say it again, there's really nothing to feel guilty about when it comes to enjoying fictional ships.

they aren't real in the first place, they are fictional characters made up by real people for the sake of other people's enjoyment and story telling. you are free to interpret a fictional characters' relationship however you want without having to feel bad about it, and since we're at the topic of trigun stampede, the director himself has been so open to the plantcest ship (his twitter likes is just full of fanarts lmao)

and besides in canon, it's even stated in knives' profile that his love for vash is that of romantic love, so even if refer to them as "siblings" is only in name as they've never really shown realistic sibling behavior towards each other, especially on knives' part as he's been in love with his brother throughout the anime.

so yeah, there's really nothing to feel guilty about when it comes to liking fictional ships anon, especially when said ship has so much chemistry!

and look, i've never really been into incestuous ships all that much when i was a kid, and i also struggled with being open to liking it once i started liking "darker" ships that aren't everyone's cup of tea. the guilt didn't last long though, because at the end of the day, i knew these things i enjoy in fiction aren't real, and what i like in ships does not mean i condone any of it in real life. and once you realize that, you won't ever have to feel bad about finding XXX ship interesting!

i hope this helps anon! and definitely take a chance to explore what you like, no one's gonna judge you for it!

introduction

hello!

after much deliberation, i've decided to make a secondary blog to explore some of my 18+ interests and desires. i am not comfortable revealing myself so this is just going to be a mask i put on from time to time. i'm a shapeshifter, what else should i be?

without getting into specifics, let's say that even though i'm on my late 20s, i missed out on most life experiences including exploration of sexuality out of guilt, shame, a feeling that it wasn't adequate or correct for me to do so, etc. long, life-altering depressive state. a couple of years ago someone very dear to me shook me out of that place and gave me a lot to think about, and i'm finally deciding to be more open about things i repressed for a long time, at least as far as writing things on this blog.

it is important to note than being open about anything sexual, for me, is new. so in that regard, expression, i am pretty vanilla as i don't really know how to do that and i haven't been part of 18+ circles to learn.

horny

as far as the things that turn me on... i am honestly really intrigued by domming. not so much for power, but out of a desire to see someone desperately want and need me. now i wouldn't want to be controlling in a toxic sense, but i think i have a lot of issues about feeling adequate, and seeing someone in a position where they would completely remove that anxiety out of my mind on a more instinctual sense... is one of the most attractive things i could imagine. i don't think i could feel free to express myself if i didn't have that. so i am pretty attracted to anyone leaning more towards submissiveness basically, although my personal preference would probably be someone who is less shy and more eager. i also fantasize a lot on the idea of getting said person off via care, praise, and essentially, just confirmation that they're loving our connection in the moment. it sounds a bit silly, but that's kind of what does it for me. i want to hear you make noises. i want to hear exactly how you feel.

self-description

dark eyes. dark medium length hair with bangs that cover my face. i have a penis. that's as much physical description as you're getting out of me.

do not recite gender to me, i avoid that bitch with a two meter pole. i am exclusively attracted to women, kinda wish i was one. might become one in the near future, or at least as far as my brain allows me to say that. less so interested in the gender performance of it all and more into wanting my body and the perception people have of me to fundamentally change. again, i have issues, and i do not wish to be associated with anything re: masculinity.

closing thoughts

uhh, as an extra, the most attractive person to me would probably be someone who is super open and honest about her desires and wouldn't feel any shame in going for them. someone who is happily expressing herself. also a straight up weirdo with a lack of understanding of social cues, instead just doing her own thing. in terms of physical attraction... tall, pale, broad shoulders, short to medium hair with bangs, hook nose. none of these are necessary, but they are traits that immediately captivate me. think manon from sf6 as a reference, but again, that isn't all i'm attracted to, and i certainly wouldn't hold any real person to that fictional standard. if you must know, my first crush kinda had those features, and that kinda became my basis for attractiveness, so...

anyway, that's all! and in case it wasn't obvious enough from reading this post, i am autistic btw 👍 and also a virgin! surprising, i know!

oh! i took that bdsm test everyone always talks about the other day. here's my results:

if anyone ever wants to talk about anything please feel free to reply to, ask, or DM me at any time!

part of my recovery is trying to talk to people and not being as much of a hermit, and would honestly love to talk to people about things i never expressed to others before too, as that is the purpose of this blog.

thank you for reading this, i hope you have a nice day. take care!!

I HAVE NEED OF ANGELS! enough hell has swallowed me for too many years. but finally understand this--i have burned up one hundred thousand human lives already, from the strength of my pain!

mael of the four archangels by percival (he/him, 30+). a study of regaining identity, guilt, and the dawn. rules under readmore.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. #FAIRHELIOS is an independent, private, highly selective and mutuals exclusive writing blog for mael of the four archangels of the seven deadly sins franchise.

this blog is 18+. please do not follow me if you are under 18!

on this note, this blog will feature dark and triggering themes. nnt is dark guys, and mael's story is also very dark- i will make sure to tag these things with the format of #trigger so that they can be filtered out! please tag #trypophobia for me!

𝐭𝐰𝐨. shipping is not the priority here, but it might be possible!

if shipping happens, it will require a LOT of plotting and will not be with any mun or muse under the age of 21.

i am very open to other sorts of bonds, though! because it isn't just romance when people talk about ships-

i should also note that i will accept mains and exclusives!

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. i am known for writing metas across the blogs i have. in the wise words of a friend:

with this in mind, the metas i write are portrayal specific to this blog, so please give them a read! i know i can be rather wordy- anyone who has followed me elsewhere may know this, but for my first time followers, worldbuilding is one of my favorite things to do. i am particularly fond of analysis of character psychology.

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. to the point above, i do have other blogs! i run @hmrtia and @godstrain, those ones are rather well known. i am in and out of other fandoms, but i am trying to focus on a smaller group of things for my own sanity.

and by this, i mean i work 32-40 hours as a registered nurse in an inpatient psychiatric unit. i am busy, i am tired, and i can't keep letting my focus go all over the place. inevitably, it still may do that because i have a tendency to be scattered, so if i don't get to something immediately, it isn't you, it's me!

also related to that, i do love communication! i struggle with reading the room (it's the Autism tm) and so if something's up or if you're bothered, please be direct with me! i will not take offense, i quite appreciate feedback so that i can be better as a person! in return, i will communicate back! i am learning to curate my space (after 10+ years of being on tumblr).

𝐬𝐢𝐱. there are people i won't interact with due to various reasons- my dni list is on the carrd of my other blogs. i won't interact with genderbent versions of characters, people who are Real Life Individuals (not counting fictional depictions like in the typemoon franchise or whatnot because those really have nothing to do with the actual individual they're supposedly based on?).

please stay far away from me if you fall under the following categories (i'm censoring things because god knows tumblr just picks shit up idk): proshipping, writing inc*st, p*dophilia, r*pe/n*ncon, are transphobic/homophobic- the usual gross behavior! use your moral compass!

on top of that, i am a firm believer that we learn from the media around us. full censorship is just as dangerous as the aforementioned things- the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows! please refer to this post which essentially summarizes the gist of what i'm trying to explain.

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. anyway, hello, i'm percival / percy, but also everyone knows me as knight. i am 30+ and use he/him pronouns exclusively! i am a hobby artist (it's my side-gig from nursing) and sometimes i post my art, tagged #whats my art tag considering i constantly forget my art tag if it's fancy. please do not repost my art without my permission.

mutuals, feel free to ask me for my discord, since i am much easier to reach there!

i look forward to writing with you!

4 5 7 12 25 36 53 💫 can't decide on less i'm afraid

And I'm glad you didn't! So many questions, THANK YOU, you're a gift and a blessing. Without further ado, here goes:

4. what are you looking forward to?

Right now? The time after my exams when I'm finally FREE and don't have to constantly choose between forcing myself to study or the nagging guilt of not-doing-enough. The BC show + VIP thingy in September (GJPA if you ruin this for me, I will commit actual arson). Hopefully getting to travel and leave the gODDAMN COUNTRY again in October (maybe for a week?) and seeing a plane from the inside for the first time since 2019. All of these are so uncertain right now. And everything else is even MORE uncertain. Help 😭

5. is there anyone who can always make you smile?

A whole list of people! The first one is my dad, who can eventually get me laughing again no matter how sad, frightened or grumpy I am. My best friend, who's basically my family at this point and has been a constant in my life when everyone else keeps coming and going. My best guy friend from uni, who's just the best kind of Lunatic (affectionate). As far as celebrities go, the one-n-only Joel Hokka. And now…I guess there's you, too. This is gonna sound cheesy, but talking to you has unlocked a part of my personality even I didn't know I had, and it scares me a little but I wouldn't have it any other way.

7. what was your life like last year?

Like, exactly one year ago? Pretty bad, but about to get better. Lockdowns still had my mental health in a chokehold, my brain was constantly trying to convince me I was severely ill and dying over the tiniest things, I was skinnier than ever and just felt frail and like I was fading. I'd gotten my first vaccine dose recently, and between the world opening up and my mom making me exercise and finding refuge in the world of fiction I was slowly regaining my sanity. Then a few days later PMA by All Time Low and Pale Waves came out and it revived me a little, and another few weeks later I got my second dose and decided to finally check out BC after knowing of them for a while and my life has gotten so much better since. The rest is history.

12. what is something you want right now?

Already answered here, but I'd like to add: Some time where I don't constantly have to do something, enough that I don't need to fret and decide what to do with my precious few unscheduled hours. The power and motivation to study for my oral exam, as much as I need to study. Some certainties where so much in my life is uncertain. Right now, those are the most urgent things.

25. role model

I don't have just one, I steal traits and skills from everyone I find cool like a greedy little magpie. I guess the closest to an aspirational figure for me is Aleksi though? I admire how comfortable he seems in everything he does, the effect he has on people, the way he can win their love so effortlessly and keep it despite his quirks and pointy edges. One day I'd like to have the same effect on others, radiate the same comfort and childlike joy of life paired with twinkly-eyed maturity. I guess it's because I see so much of myself in him that this actually seems achievable, you know?

36. 3 dreams you want to fulfill?

I was gonna say "Just three?" but now I honestly have trouble coming up with three at all. I'm not counting goals where achievement is just a matter of time here BTW, only "I hope this can happen someday/it'll likely happen but no idea when," no "this will happen in the foreseeable future."

Dream 1 is to move out to a place I like, a place that's my own, where I can decide what I eat and when I sleep and when I do chores and don't owe anyone an explanation when I want to go somewhere. Just…freedom within four walls. That's all I ask.

Dream 2 is to find someone I love who loves me just as much and just…experience what it's like to love and be loved. Build a life together if it works out. If not, at least know what it feels like and that I'm capable of experiencing it…does that make sense?

Dream 3 (AKA the most unrealistic one…I guess?) is to create a story that finds a large audience. I'm talking active online fandom, fanworks, maybe even an adaptation of some kind? I wouldn't even wanna be famous for it myself. I'd just like to see something I write reach so many people and see what they create out of it.

53. 5 things that make me happy

1: Listening to my favorite songs, undisturbed and uninterrupted, just jamming out.

2: Getting friends or loved ones into stuff I'm into.

3: Plushies!

4: That feeling of being done with a task (or just your work for the day) and knowing you can kick back and relax now.

5: Doing my silly little exercises and seeing how strong I've gotten. Progress! 💪

Well! Those were all the questions. Thank you for these, you made me literally bare my soul in front of you, hope you enjoyed the ride! 💖

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

Fuck you and all your little brain washed rats sending people hate because you cant take responsibility for your actions!! But go on stay silent like you always do, pretend its nothing of your business, keep being a fetishizing racist delulu like you love to be while pretending to be the best blog on tumblr!!!

NOT like anyone will see this but YOU will so LET’S GOOO!!!~~

TW: mental health and more (if you feel like this can trigger you, pls don’t read this, breathe in and out and listen to this HERE and remember I love you), loads of tea and Mimi NOT being a friendly and kind ghost. 

funny enough: 

I never pretended of said I was the best blog. But I guess the fact that you say it might be because you heard it frequently? Thanks for thinking so^^

I sent hate to no one and u r the one sending it to me rn ^^ In my whole 4 year journey on Tumblr I received a lot of love but also worse hate that you can imagine. Yes you are saying now you are receiving hate ... funny how it’s bad when It’s addressed to you but when it’s at me and my dear followers it is not. Still, I never told anyone to go hate on you. You were the idiot that tagged my old blog and as soon as my blog was gone pple searched me and found out you were the reason behind this. But as you keep hating on me. Let me tell you I am kind but don’t mistake that for me being a coward.

I am not into insulting others and I don’t care much if you insult me. BUT don’t YOU DARE touch my dear followers. Insulting ain’t hard. Let me try: The only rat here is you hiding in your hole as an anon. I went and compared your writing with this ask and previous hate asks. And it was you~ Good for you~ the sewers smell just like your filthy mouth spilling sh*t left and right. So on brand. However, I know who you are @hobisbeautifulass Hi ^^

Me racist? HAHAHAHAH you truly know NOTHING about me nor my ex-blog’s message. It was a place when you were welcomed no matter your skin color, religion, gender ... proof? well it got deleted thanks to you. but ask around this time and search for who reblogged my posts as they were always the top of the tags (even if I don’t trust how bad you are at research). I supported the BLM movement and still do and will always do but I did so veeery early without anyone telling me. Not for the notes but because of my humanity. I wished my dear followers’ happy holidays no matter their religions. And never cared about those things. Why judge someone on something based on religion or how they were born. As for the LGBTQ+ community, I was always and will always be there for love being love. I talked about mental health and opened venting nights. I helped left and right and when I was receiving hate because of people like you spitting lies about me. What did I do? Did I go online and called people bad? No. I looked back at myself and asked myself if I did anything wrong. I tried to educate myself and apologized sincerely when I had to. I read books and watched documentaries to learn how to become a better human. AND never repeated a mistake twice. You tend to forget that our cultures are different and sometimes you grow up to see some things as normal when they are not. This is not an excuse tho, so I always believed that I was lacking and if someone had something to say against me, there is a chance they are right and just in case I should reflect on myself. But for your case it was pure nonsense. ME? a stalker? how can I stalk when I have social anxiety and at that time couldn’t even leave my room? I am even afraid of taking public transportations and just the other days I was crying from joy when I took a taxi alone. they said I was in Japan stalking Jimin and Jungkook and took a pic when I was NEVER EVER was on that land. You put me on the same list as people who bought info about BTS’ flights to be on the same plane as them? I was stalked before and let me tell you it ain’t cute and fun. I am even scared of the idea of being followed. that’s why I never shared openly my age, country, or anything about me on my blog. that’s why I have no personal social media to this day and that’s why making my ex-blog was some sort of miracle in my life. 

Silent? yes I was silent when I received hate and didn’t even vent to my dear followers or pointed fingers. Why? because I thought as my day was hell I shouldn’t make anyone’s day worse. I was worried about my dear followers with mental illnesses being triggered. I tried to take my life so many times I lost count but I still came here and smiled. It was my safe place and you took it away. Yet, I should pity you? You hated on me first for no reason and you know it deep inside but right now you are trying to convince yourself that you are the angel and feel no guilt. Compared to you. I pointed fingers at no one and didn’t name you when my blog was gone. Why? because compared to you, I thought you will not be able to manage the hate and what was done .. I didn’t want you to suffer the same way I did when you are the one who made me suffer the most the past couple of days. But the kind Mimi is someone you will never remember because you dared touch the friends I love and calling them names. I don’t mind people insulting me but don’t you dare touch my people. I know myself best. My dear friends/followers know me best. I thought ... I could leave without this mess but you keep barking in my ask box and it’s annoying. I left this backup account just to talk to my friends and yet you are here to ruin things again? I should stop being kind to the ones who deserve non of it. I ignored you when I had so many followers and you went silent too because you were scared of me. But as soon as I lost my blog because of you, you went, edited and then reblogged that stalker post. How can I be a stalker? do you even know the definition of a stalker? do you even know shame? well .. I don’t think so.. you said it yourself. You are NOT ashamed (and you reblogged that so many time lol). 

Death threats? this is no competition but thanks to people like you I have been there and wish no one to be there not even you. The only difference is that you almost killed me for real. You were not the sole reason? Great job walking away from you beloved word: RESPONSIBILITY. And I didn’t get just anon hate, I got literal tagging by people like you, DMs, and people pointing guns at me. That’s why I didn’t mention you. I was worried about the one who took away what I worked for for 4 YEARS. I was more sad and concerned about the ARMY fandom here. Do you know how many rely on my updates? do you know how many people said I helped them? do you know any of that? do you think 200k people were “rats”? Do you think if I did and say wrong thing I will not be questioned by those people. I always told my dear followers: “friends, if I do or say anything wrong or share anything that hurts anyone please tell me. I am willing to learn from everyone.” But what did you know? what did you do? Well ..  guess you love notes? As the most notes you ever got and the most attention was when talking about me? 

Love how you talk about fetishing when my blog was what people call “family friendly”. I also like BTS. I love them for their music, talent, personalities and the happiness they give me. I also enjoy BTS’ bond and love their interactions. I posted content of all kinds of interactions JM X JK, JK X V, V X JIN, JIN X SG, SG X JH, JH X RM, RM X JM ... If you are calling this fetishing asian men just because I scream over BTS as a fan and love their bonb. Then aren’t you against the idea of being an ARMY? I was a clear OT7 and you were told that you weren’t right: 

 Then you answered this without even explaining the nonsense about me: 

idk .. I am trying to find sense in your nonsense so .. wait wait let me look at the definition of fetishism first. 

Fetishism /ˈfɛtɪʃɪz(ə)m/ noun: a form of sexual behavior in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, activity, part of the body, etc.

Then .. judging from your URL alone hmmm ... cute. I won’t even talk about the SMUT you write that is full of kinks and fetishism. Well I have no problem with fan fiction but the irony you spit is out of this world.

Also, I made money out of mimibtsghost? HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH no lil one. I worked day and night for FREE. At some point when BT21 just came out and there were no products on AMAZON or anywhere but S.Korea, someone reached out to me to offer 20% off or something for my dear followers. When they asked what I wanted I said what about international giveaways for my dear followers. Basically, made gifs, found content, updates, analysis, edits, and so on for free. Again, w-wait .. Aren’t you the one asking for commissions? Well .. It’s not wrong. But again THE irony. 

So, I went to see that post you made about me with “PROOF” and it was just another person who was salty as I got them blocked I can’t even recall who they were but oh well. Their arguments according to YOU and many should be taken as FACTS just because they said them?  You said HERE that your first comeback was MOST:7 that came in just last year (2020) SO what the hell do YOU know about what happened years before you came when all the proof you pointed at where baseless without any backing?

Let’s see this so wise person you used to delete my blog and what I have done ^^

The gifs: There is a story to this. The first week I came to Tumblr, It was my first time on this site and the first time I share anything. I shared some content and my analysis had a lot of notes for a small creator that started just a week ago. But I made a mistake, I found a gif and posted it while crediting the gif maker. At the time I had NO idea it was wrong. I logged off and after 5 hours I log in and there was a WAR for that ONE gif. The big blog had me blocked and her friend was telling me to take it off. As soon as the person told me I did IMMEDIATELY and apologized againa and again and told them to tell the original gif maker to deblock me as I want to apologize directly and that they can block me after that. They did and I apologized but they just kept insulting me. Of course it was MY mistake and that’s why I apologized. But for them. for a mere gif (yes I say a mere gif because I made so many gifs and they were used on all platforms but I never thought it was necessary to hate that much on someone like they did to me). That blog was big and had big blog mutuals. Thanks to that, I became someone you do NOT become mutuals with but block and never reblog content from. Without any big mutuals. Without any shoutouts. Only my love for BTS, my dear followers’ support and my hard work.. My blog, became bigger and FAST (I got 10k in less than 6 months after I started) and that brought loads of jealousy and thus more rumors. Even if, I apologized and since then made my own gifs. And I made SO many gifsets that I can’t remember how many there were. What I can recall is at some point I made them daily and many times a day.

Ships Jikook? I posted content of ALL the members interactions. I was here at a time where Jikook stans and Taekook stans where always fighting. BUT I posted about both and even made so many posts to encourage loving all the members and all the interactions. I also used the tags solely used for shipping with other big tags to show that BTS’ interactions are all important and their bond is beutiful. That our fandom shouldn’t hate on a member just because they are not part of a ship we like. And wait .. even if I shipped Jikook? I got called ALL those names by someone who ship the members with readers and write sexual scenes? Like, wait ... I am truly confused. Like, write fanfic and do all you want as long as you hurt no one I guess but why am I getting hurt for doing non of it? Like according to you, the person you should be cancelling is yourself?! I am also not into cancel culture like you so hahah whatever.

Posted stalker pics: well wow the story changes each time. Next thing you will hear that I was the one holding a camera for a member in a Vlive lol. Let me teach you about this update thing I was doing. I follow accounts I trust and that’s how we get info circulating fast. I always do reasearch but sometimes mistakes are made. For example when lately people shared pictures of BTS leaving their virtual concerts and schedules. There was a watermark of a news outlet. Normally we trust those but only later we realized that those people stalked BTS. You clearly can’t know it all. But I still didn’t share many pics related to many events (I will not name those as pple can search them even now because some pple never deleted those). And all big accounts shared many pics then deleted later. This happens all the time but it happened like ONCE for me. However, I am called a stalker for that? 

When Jonghyun passed away ... I don’t even wanna recall that night as the memories just ... when that happened I posted about it and send my condolescences. that post had over 10k notes and was at the top the tag. Why did I do that? I was devastated. Yes, many were but I will talk about me rn: I was suicidal the days before that and one of the songs that I listened to when I was broken where by him. I has been in the kpop world since 2006. And learned about his group since their debut with ‘Replay’. I was never a stan but I still knew of many groups and listened to all the songs I liked. I was very sad when he was gone and ANGRY mostly. Why is this angel leaving? Why is someone like me still here? Why did I not leave instead of him? How much did he suffer? And in the midst I posted a post from twitter that stated how agencies usually put down pple with mental illiness and hide it in the industry. Yes, that was important but NOT at that time. I shouldn’t have posted that and I realized after 5 min of doing so that it was WRONG. So I deleted it FAST but it kept being reblogged and I kept getting hate and people telling me: “Go kill yourself”... the sad part is that I almost did as my answer was “true ... why am I still here?” I apologized and logged off then to this day won’t forget crying at 3 AM while walking outside next to my dad. I was outside as I couldn’t breathe anymore and the idea of seeing the walls of my room was hell. I cried and cried and the teary eyes that my father looked at me with are something I am ashamed of to this day. To add one more thing while I am spilling the beans. I hate learning about someone dying. My grandma passed away sometime before that and it was so shocking to me. and some people came and told me when I was mourning her: Go follow that bitch of grandmother of yours. And for what? At that moment I didn’t think I would live to see the next year but I went to therapy and took medecine that was hurting and made me shake all day just to turn somewhat sane. No one knew tho ... I smiled all day and cried all night.. Even on the blog I fought no one of the ones who hated me. I just blocked them but even that was an insult to them?

Again, you said no one should defend me. Yet, you were ready to fight whoever touched anyone around you. What about changing your URL to beautifulassirony

Also THE hypocrisy. If you are sorry then why are you answering an ask of someone isulting someone you want to apologize to? Just make a post wher you apologize or ignore it from the start?

One more thing but surely not the last. You said you were good with research which you are NOT. So, let me show you what an OG detective ARMY can do. But first, as I was scrolling I saw some of your “work” (let’s not even talk about those gifs) and I am just giving my point of view here: I hate how you painted Namjoon as this horny-idiotic-make-dog. Like I get it it’s a fanfic or Namjoon as a dad but ... Namjoon is such a smart man who is very respectful and ofc he is a human with needs like many but what the hell is this way of portraying a character? Also a character is not cool, amazing, and a strong woman just because they curse and belittle their partner. 

Oh well, only you kept reblogging that as it show 36 reblogs when only 33 as still there when I looked and out of those 13 reblogs are yours? (you might have reblogged it more) but again some people might have liked ... people have different taste ... so ... whatever. 

Let’s continue, shall we ^^. You said you were the victim here when I was the one getting robbed right? How can I believe someone who reblogged the post below and was proud calling themselves an abomination or how the Oxford dictionary defines it:  a thing that causes disgust or loathing. For once you weren’t wrong.

What can you expect from someone who has the “I am not like others” kinda mentality while stating relatable things that everyone goes through?

This is getting pretty long. So to sum this up. You are now telling others that hate is NOt ok and that they should be ashamed of themselves when you yourself is not ashamed of hating on me?

I am not the type that sends anon hate. I might ignore some barking but the past days you came and bite me hard. I face the ones I have to face without fear. I know I am not the bad guy here and I don’t care much what you think about me. Even BTS got haters. This says a lot. BUT do NOT dare talk badely of my dear friends/followers. You said you do research well? Start by deleting the post below that was originally by ME from your blog ... oh how meticulous you are. From your baseless receipts to your twisted logic. Indeed people on the internet can say anything and it will be FACTS. You painted me as the devil and painted yourself as this researcher? What’s next you receiving a Phd in ‘pity me’ after your MBA in lies and irony? Whatever~ 

Whaaatever~ Karma will have upcoming talks with you. No need for you to apologize. I never cared about you and you only got attention using me. But I am not here anymore how will you get that blog running now? Are you gonna add me in a fanfic next? No need for you to send me my appearance fee when you do so~ And no need for you to apologize to me just apologize to you conscience if you have any left.  As for me @hobisbeautifulass​ you are just someone I will forget soon anyway~~ 

And because according to what you said HERE when you described the things you hate about people and I thought that was VERY close to how you treated me. Thus, you might really not stand yourself rn.

Do.Not.Worry. BTS are starting the Love Myself campaign again and just in time for you to jump in (you are good at jumping to conclusions about me so I won’t worry about you). I know you don’t like me or my friends but be sure to love yourself at least ^^ 

You are a Hobi stan? Then learn from Hobi to share some sunshine not bring the storm. Have a good day~

Rocky | JJ Maybank

Gif by @rudypankows

Summary: New to the Pogues, you weren’t familiar with JJ’s fighting habits, when he stumbles into the chateau black and blue, feelings are thrown into the after match. 

Words: 1.8K

Warning: none i guess?? aftermatch of a fight??

When your mother announced that you were moving to a smaller town, you weren't expecting this. Kildale, North Carolina was your new resident for the next four years. You weren’t exactly ecstatic but you were curious to see what a simple life can bring you.

After weaving through the labyrinth of roads, the paths eventually coverage and revealed your new home. Broken trees, tangled bushes and chipped paint was now your safe place. 

“You’ll love it here. I promise you.” Her mother grinned. 

“Yep, paradise on Earth.” You mocked but your mother's smile only grew. “That’s the spirit. You’ll make friends in no time.” She promised, leaving you to take in the salty breeze that tangled through your hair.

Months went by and you were happy, secured with your friends. They were a little dysfunctional but you considered them family. You met Kiara first, one of the best days and memorable days. The Wreck was a safe place where free meals would come your way, if you promised to work there.

Kiara then introduced you to the boys, or you’ll like to call them: Draco, Harry and Ron. They reminded you of fictional characters that were too good to be true.

John B instantly grew a liking towards you. You weren’t predictable as he thought any new girl would be. Pope loved your view on literature, whilst JJ admired your recklessness when it came to messing with the infamous Kooks.

It was an ordinary Friday night which was known as party night, but somehow the Pogues weren’t feeling the need to mope over Tourons. JJ was out, probably finding new ways to get into trouble since he already committed every crime. So, you were quarantined with the rest but your mind was too occupied with JJ's disappearance to focus on the show.

“Has anyone heard, seen or even, spoke to JJ tonight?” You randomly asked which they all immediately shook their heads. If JJ wanted to be found, he would call but something inside your stomach made you feel he was in trouble.

“I think we should look for him. It’s pretty late and he usually arrives around 10pm. It’s 10:30.”

Yourself and JJ had a bond that no one could describe, unless they witnessed the two of you in action. The both of you confined each other when things got rough, he admired the way you never judged him nor lectured him about his choice in actions. Most people would refer to you as Bonnie and Clyde - a pair of outlaws fighting crime with nothing but love. 

He loved the simplest things about you, the little nose scrunches when you patch up his cuts. He loves hearing your angelic voice reciting sonnets to him; Sonnet 116 was your favourite. Once he had an understanding of what Shakesphere was saying, he got the number tattooed. 

“I’m sure he’s just got lost on the way home. He’s clumsy like that.” Kiara reassured you but your gut was telling you otherwise.

Pope could sense your stress as you began to grip onto JJ’s jumper, his response was placing his arm around you giving your shoulder a tight squeeze.

“He’ll be okay. He’s JJ, he has survival skills of an ant.” Pope whispered letting your head fall into his shoulder as you forced yourself to watch an episode.

It was now 12am, and everyone was out like a light. You, however, were awake standing by the porch waiting for him to come home. 

“Where are you, JJ?” You whispered under your breath looking into the darkness. As the breeze was hitting your exposed skin, you sheleted inside wrapping his scent over your body letting some tears escape your eyes.

JJ makes his entrance late. You hear the door swing open more loudly than usual, causing your eyes to open. You don’t look at him, nor acknowledge him. He’s late and he knew you would be made when he doesn’t show up. He tried to say your name, his bruised lip failing at the first syllable, but he doesn’t need to finish, you were already on your feet to stop him from falling. His left eye is swollen, meaning he wouldn’t be able to see for a while. His face still bears congealed blood and his clothes were destroyed. 

“JJ, you seriously need to stop getting into fights… Everytime you walk through the door, a new shot of purple ruins your perfect tanned skin.” You sniffled as you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but with a reassuring touch you began to nurse him.

Each bud stained more than the last, you could sense his embarrassment, shame and guilt as he let tears shelter through his cuts.

“I’ve got you, you are safe now.” you whispered as you finished cleaning him up. Although his face was now seen as a punching bag, you gracefully planted a small kiss to his forehead letting him know he was forgiven.

Since the bedrooms were occupied, the two of you had no choice to share the pull out. Helping JJ onto the bed, he immediately buried his head into your chest letting you shelter him from the monsters he ran from.

“I’ve got you..” You whispered once more before your eyes began to fall into a deep slumber as your mind was finally at rest.

The morning after couldn’t come any sooner, it felt like a couple of minutes since you closed your eyes. JJ was still out, his body was curled into yours as his light snores woke you along with the roaster John B decided to keep.

“What a beaut- what happened?” John B croaked, but immediately gave you an apologetic look as you placed your finger to your mouth. 

“He got into a fight, he couldn’t talk when he came in last night.” You whispered hoping JJ wouldn’t wake up, as he needed all the sleep he could get.

“Is there anything I can do?” John B always felt hopeless when he would find the two of you asleep on a pull out. It was either you having nightmares or JJ getting beaten up.

“Maybe some water, just in case he needs to feel strong again” You mumbled, looking down at how peaceful he was. 

You always loved the way his curly blonde locks invaded his face as he slept. It was usually him, spooning you but occasionally he liked it when you took charge. He liked being taken care of, since no one else bothered too.

“Jesus, He really out did his last fight.” Pope groggily spoke, starching his hair as he came out of the spare bedroom along with Kie who was brushed and ready to start the day.

“Should Pope and I get breakfast from the Wreck? I feel like we all needed a Carrera breakfast.” Kiara jokes to lighten the mood a little.

“Please.” You chuckled letting your finger brush through JJ’s messy hair. 

“Okay, let us know if anything happens.” Pope added on, letting Kiara pull his frame out of the picture and towards the car.

You looked over at John B for guidance in what to do, you were fairly new and even the bond you and JJ shared, you still felt hopeless.

“Someone needs to not let him get into all these fights. One day, he might not even make it back. I think you need to talk to him.” John B confined his feelings with you, but you couldn’t be the one to lecture him. 

“You’ve known him longer. He’s your best friend.” You argued back, giving John B some serious thinking. 

“You’re his girlfriend, you know him more than I do.” John B without realising labelled you, but it wasn’t true. You and JJ were friends, best friends. 

“I’m not his girlfriend, and I told you to shut up about that.” You confessed your feelings but you never would admit your desire to be with the blonde rebel. 

“Well, I know he likes you and if he wasn’t asleep, I’ll get those bruises myself. “ John B wasn’t good at keeping secrets, nor was Pope, which only left Kiara to be the trusted one in the group. 

As JJ arms were secured around you, the bladder inside you was nearly at breaking point. You slowly began to remove his tendered arms away from your waist but a whine escaped JJ’s lip.

“D-Don’t leave.” He choked out, opening an eye to see your face.

“I need to pee… I’ll be back, I promise.” JJ nodded, letting go of you as his arms flopped onto the mattress but his smile grew as your scent stayed with him.

“Watch him.” You nudged John B who was busy scrolling through Sarah Cameron’s Instagram.

“Aye, Aye Captain,” John B closed his phone, walking over to the bed to check on his best friend.

“Dude, what the fuck happened?” He immediately asked, he knew he wasn’t okay so he didn’t bother with that question.

JJ was trying to form words, “I-I ran into Topper and he mentioned Y/N, talking about her as if she was some piece of meat. I couldn’t let him talk about my girl like that.” JJ grumbled, looking up as John B gave him a huge grin.

“I knew you liked her.” JJ shook his head, “I love her, man.” JJ confessed not noticing you were already standing under the door frame, listening to every word.

“I love you, too.” You swooned making your way over to him, planting a small kiss to his cheek.

“I’m so sorry for missing movie night and getting into another fight. I’ll promise I won’t get into more fights.” But you only chuckled as no matter how much you tried, you could never get that boy to stop fighting especially for the one he loves.

“Mhm, get some rest. Food is on the way.” You grinned, letting John B cringe over the way you planted soft kisses to his cuts.

“You two are adorably cringy .” JJ rolled his eyes, “jealousy isn’t a good look, bro.” John B scoffed at the remark looking at you to take his side.

“I agree with rocky. Not going to get anywhere with scrolling through her Instagram.” You sassed, heading JJ chuckle but winced immediately clutching into his stomach. 

“Serves yo- Food is here.” John B knew finishing that sentence wouldn’t be ideal so he lunged towards Pope, thanking him for his impeccable timing. 

As you let your friend set up the table, you noticed JJ pulling his weight up to face you.

“I mean it, I love you Y/N.” JJ expressed his feelings again, which surprised you as he wasn’t the one to open up about certain things.

“I love you, JJ.” You reached in to kiss his bruised lip, ignoring all the aww’s coming from your friends.

masterlist  AND TAGLIST

Confession Time

TW: For talks of mental illness as well as a mention of suicide.

This has actually been on my mind for quite a while but I was worried about how it would be taken. However this has actually come up several times in the Azula tag now so I might as well talk about it. And before I get to the point I just want to say that I’m very much open to respectful discussion. Please don’t rip me apart over this. 

So here we go; Azula/Therapy makes me rather uncomfortable.

And it does so on a rather personal level and for several reasons. I can’t really get into my biggest reason because it’s very deeply personal and I don’t feel comfortable sharing it online. So I’m gonna start with the less personal reasons as to why I think that Azula/Therapy is kinda sketchy imo.  

I feel as though most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t really realize how it affects real people? For one thing I feel like it makes a joke of therapy. It’s kind of hard to explain but therapy isn’t some cute and quirky thing. It’s a very serious matter and to ship Azula/Therapy like it’s the next Drapple (Draco/Apple) just doesn’t sit right with me. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I feel like most people who ship Azula/Therapy don’t particularly mean any offense. I feel like to a degree it comes from a place of innocence. But and its big but, I think that Azula/Therapy got its origins from a not so wholesome place. In fact I think that the ship was  born from a place of hate. I think that the first time I encountered Azula/Therapy it was from a very notorious Azula anti. It gained traction with the anti crowd as a means to harass and guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. And that’s not okay. I think that somewhere down the lines, the Azula fandom kind of reclaimed it but. I am damn near certain that this started as an Azula anti thing.

It’s one thing to ship Azula/Therapy because you don’t feel like Azula is sound enough to be in a relationship. But don’t try to guilt others for disagreeing. And this kind of leads me to my main problem with Azula/Therapy.

I think that it’s kind of, sort of (dare I say) ableist? Just because someone has a mental illness doesn’t mean that they shouldn’t be loved. I’ve been kind of keeping tabs on discussions on this and I came across one anon who literally say something about how “Azula would just be a burden to her lover.” NGL that had me floored because this is the exact line of thinking that puts depressed people in a bad place. Speaking from experience, people with depression feel like burdens/like they are bringing people down. And to see this line of thinking being affirmed in fandom spaces does not help real people who are experiencing the same thing. God forbid someone shares disorder traits with Azula and they see that. 

I am 100% that there are some relationships where a person just isn’t stable enough to be in a relationship and it would be detrimental for them to have one. But for other people finding a lover can be instrumental to recovery! So by all means, this is definitely a matter of something being a case by case thing. Getting a littler personal (but without getting into too many details) I know two people who literally saved each other. And by this I mean, one was super depressed and the other was ready to kill themself. Finding each other was what rekindled their will to live again. That’s why it really bothers me to see Azula/Therapy being tossed around so carelessly. To me there’s this underlying implication that mentally ill people shouldn’t be allowed to date and get love. And that’s just not fair?  I feel like people maybe don’t think about this when posting Azula/Therapy stuff. 

“Well Azula specifically shouldn’t be in a relationship yet because she’s not in a good place for it.”

Okay fair but consider a few things; 1. some people specifically write post-redemption Azula ship fics 2. some people enjoy writing out fics where romance helps her heal. 

I have seen it come up that someone (I won’t mention names because I’m not sure if this user would want that) mention that they ship Azula/Therapy because they aren’t up to writing a fic that involves an arc of Azula getting to a place where she can have romance. Which is totally fair. But, that doesn’t mean that other people can’t. And I feel like this fandom has been trying to guilt people for shipping Azula with anyone. As mentioned, this isn’t fine. (@ mentioned user, feel free to reply). 

Another thing that I saw was an anon saying that being anti Azula/Therapy is aro/acephobic. I’m going to put my foot down as someone who has been very openly aro/ace and say, don’t try to speak for all of us. Yes romance isn’t the solution for everyone because romance isn’t what everyone is looking for. And I absolutely agree with this. However Azula is a fictional character and not everyone headcanons her as aro/ace. For some people, writing Azula in a romance as part of the healing process is what makes them happy. It doesn’t make them aro/acephobic. 

One more thing that I saw come up regarding Azula specifically. And I think that they made a wonderful point; Azula’s breakdown (as I interpreted it) came from a lack of love. Azula craved genuine affection whether she realized it or not. So I would argue that Azula would be one of those people who could strongly benefit from being in a relationship as part of the healing processes. By all means, make therapy a part of that healing process! She can be in a relationship and she can still go to therapy. She can use that therapy to help her keep that relationship healthy. I guess what I’m trying to say is I could get on board with Azula/*Character*/Therapy as an OT3. 99.99% sure that this is really common in real life. Actually 100% sure because (again without sharing too much personal info) I have seen a rather unstable person get into a relationship and use therapy to help them make sure that said relationship stays healthy. 

A person doesn’t have to be 100% mentally sound to be in a relationship. And having a mental illness while  being in a relationship doesn’t automatically make it a toxic or dangerous relationship on principal. I think that (depending on the disorder) some long discussions need to be had and some boundaries need to be put in place. Speaking from experience, I have heard someone say something akin to, “alright, I have *disorder* if I ever do *bad habit* then take these steps and don’t let me push you around...” Things like that. 

TL;DR: I feel like Azula/Therapy (even if it comes from a well meaning place) can be disheartening for people who relate to Azula & people who already feel like a burden in their real life relationships. Ship Azula/Therapy if you want and if it makes you comfortable but don’t try to shame people for shipping her with other characters. Also be weary of people who ship Azula/Therapy  as a means to belittle others.

I think that’s it for now.  If I think of anything else, I’ll add it. I’ll just end by saying that I don’t mean this to be antagonistic or yell at anyone but to offer a new POV.

Black Clouds

Title: Black Clouds

Request: Hi! I just wanna start off by saying i love you’re writing ❤️ I was wondering if you could write a snape x fem reader where the reader is thinking about committing suicide because she feels like she's not worthy of living and she believes that he could have someone better and Sev notice that something is wrong and uses legilimency to find out the issue because she doesn't want to open up with anyone and he's shocked by what he sees and tries to help her. I'm sorry if that's too specific and if you don't feel like writing it, don't worry ❤️

A/N: First of all, before I say anything about this request, I want to tell EVERYONE who feels suicidal to find and ask for help. YOU ARE NOT UNWORTHY OF LIFE. This request hits home for me and I was deliberating if I should write this or not as it’s such a sensitive subject for me personally. But, that’s actually all the more reason to write it. Suicide is a hush-hush subject in society when it really should not be - this is something we ALL need to talk about and we ALL need to make sure that everyone feels safe enough to ask for help. And, as you all know by now, I am all for writing about sensitive/taboo subjects that need to be addressed more. 

Secondly, if you are suicidal or harm yourself in any way - THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU ARE LESS WORTHY. You are worth all happiness, help, support and care in the world - you have a place in this world and it is ever-changing. What is today may be different tomorrow, what happened yesterday may impact what happens the day after tomorrow. There is always a new dawn to meet and a new sunset to cherish. If you are reading this, you are alive and fighting - go you! Like, seriously, it is fucking hard to be alive in this world but you are doing it! You are fighting, even on bad days, you are fighting and winning! Thank you for being here, thank you for staying with us, thank you for gracing the world with your presence and life! ❤️

As I mentioned this hits home and I will do my best to do this request justice as it is so damn important. I do want to mention this is fiction and I do not personally stand behind all the things that characters do even if I write it. Characters have their own will and sometimes that overrules my will as a writer (also, sometimes it’s just needed to get a good story). To intrude in one’s mind is not something I find to be a good thing - but as my loyal readers already know its a thing I use often because its fun to write and Severus just wants to bloody do it all the time; that man as no sense of privacy boundaries when it comes to others, let me tell you… So just keep this in mind whenever you read fiction - just because someone wrote it does not mean it is something they stand behind or condone. If that were the case the world would be way more bonkers - just think of all the murders and rape and war and devilry stuff authors write about O.O 

+A/N: I was writing with a female reader in mind but as I edited this I noticed nothing actually states that it is a female so the reader is GN - I hope Nonny doesn’t mind.

Pairing: Snape x Reader 

Setting: Post Second War, Spring 2003, Your home at Rosewood Hill 

Word count: 3540

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Angst, (Age Difference), Fluff, Mental Health, PTSD, Anxiety, Emotional Rollercoaster, Kissing...

Prologue:

You, like many others who had survived the horrible battle at Hogwarts in 1998, suffered from a series of illnesses. Survivors guilt, depression, anxiety, panic attacks and lately the thoughts had begun to overwhelm you. Collectively one could call it severe PTSD but to simply group all the different emotions and disorders like that simplified it a bit too much. Some parts were PTSD, of course, but some things had haunted you long before the battle. Like your struggle with self-worth, your anxiety and the intrusive thoughts that popped up more often than not. The fact that you had been mere 19 years old when you fought for life, justice and all things good probably made the experience even harder to handle. 

Fortunately for you, something good had come from the war. Love. Your previous professor, Severus Snape, had been severely injured - actually, he had been at death's doorstep - but pulled through after several months of care where you as a nurse partook in his recovery daily. He made a full recovery under yours and others care and once he was free to leave the hospital he had asked you out on a date. You had accepted happily and then everything just sort of happened. You fell in love, got married, moved to Rosewood Hill and renovated a rundown house together as money was tight - but it all turned out quite good in the end. Well, except the fact that things weren’t good. Not at all…

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

You had been unable to sleep in the early hours of the morning. Flashes of memories and the sound of screaming paired with falling bodies kept you company. It had gotten worse since Christmas four months ago. That was when it had snowballed out of control completely. You blinked and sighed before you carefully left the bed, and Severus, behind to get some coffee as you tried to keep the intruding thoughts at bay. 

Lately, despite all the love and happiness in your life, you had been feeling less and less worthy. Of life, of Severus, of everything. You did your best to hide how you felt. You smiled, you laughed, you baked and cleaned, did all of your hobbies and made sure Severus wouldn’t see how you were hurting inside. Made sure he wouldn’t notice how tormented you were by the mere fact you were alive. 

He had enough to deal with, he was so strong that it nearly brought tears to your eyes. He had been through pure hell. Had struggled and fought with all his might year after year while he was hurting, so deeply. You couldn’t fathom how he did it, how he survived and lived on. How he could stand it all. All the thoughts and emotions. Everything. What you felt simply couldn’t be anything to measure with against what he must have felt for so long. It pained you that your thoughts were so selfish, that you had such pain and hurt inside of you when he had a stronger right to claim such emotions. Weakling, worthless, unuseful piece of garbage...

The coffee burned its way down your throat and you winched slightly. “Careful, love,” the gruff voice of your husband echoed out. It startled you as he always slept late and the sun wasn’t even up yet. You smiled at him as you tried to arrange your face into a happy one. He arched a brow at you and you chirped out a ‘good morning, honey’ to him. He grumbled  at you, “no morning is good before nine.” You simply laughed at him as he grabbed a giant mug and poured it full with black coffee. 

“Why are you up so early?” He grumbled after a few sips, you shrugged and cradled your own cup of coffee in your hands. “I just couldn’t sleep, figured I’d get a headstart on the day,” you smiled out and he huffed. “You’re mad,” he grumbled and you shrugged again. “Why are you up?” “You left, the bed felt empty.” You smiled at him but couldn’t help the piercing thought that he would sleep better if you weren’t by his side at all. 

You snuggled up on the couch with a thick book, something to escape into. Something to cradle and lose yourself in for a few hours as Saturday passed by ever so slowly. You didn’t notice that Severus took up a place right beside you before he placed your legs over his own with gentle movements. He made sure the blanket covered your feet and then held a steady grip around your calves. You glanced up at him from the book with a smile etched to your lips. He arched a brow at you. 

“What?” you asked quizzically, his hands squeezed your leg for a moment before you felt his tender fingers stroke back and forth. “That is the question I would like to ask you, love.” You raised your brows ever so slightly before you closed the book. “What do you mean?” “What’s wrong, love?” he asked in a hushed tone and you smiled reassuringly at him. “Nothing’s wrong,” you said, “why would anything be wrong, darling?” 

Severus looked at you for a moment before he let out a small breath through his nose. His eyes left yours as he looked down at his hands placed on your legs. They were rough and pale, they were hands that you loved. “Do not lie to me, (y/n). Something is wrong. You are, not yourself anymore. Tell me,” he said gently yet firmly. You smiled wider before you placed your hand on his forearm. “Darling, nothing is wrong, I promise. I’m fine and happy, I have you.” 

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence and you felt as if your plastered smile might have failed you at any moment when he finally looked at you. “Love, do not lie, it does not suit you. Just, tell me.” You patted his arm as thoughts raced through your mind, wondering how you could reassure him he did not have to deal with your shit when he probably had so much to deal with from his own thoughts already. 

“Darling, come here,” you said and he leaned towards you. You stroked away one side of his black hair and hooked it behind his cute ear before you gently caressed his cheek and kissed his lips tenderly. I will not fail you, was the one thought that spun through your mind over and over as you tasted him. “Everything is great,” you whispered as you broke the kiss, “I’ll go make some tea for us. You seem a bit tense.” He nodded at you but there was sadness in his eyes that you could not ignore even if you stood and walked out to the kitchen.  

Your hands were shaking as you poured water into the kettle. The cups rattled as you placed them on saucers. Your breathing faltered over and over as you tried to calm your heart. Too close, too close, too close, you thought as you placed tea bags in the cups. I need to do better, he can’t see, I can’t worry him. He’s got too much of his own stuff to deal with, I can’t be a burden to him. I don’t want to burden him anymore… 

A small, glinting tear rolled down your cheek as you bit your lip to keep a sob at bay just as the kettle screamed. The water swirled as you poured it, stained by the tea in a gentle pattern before it all gained the same deep colour and you felt as if you yourself had been stained a deeper, darker colour throughout the depths of your heart.  

You had avoided him a tad after the tea. You busied yourself with laundry, cleaning, changing sheets on the bed and dusting. Not until evening came and Severus had set the table with a divinely smelling dinner were you forced to be still and in close proximity to him. Now, some might have thought this was just because you didn’t want him to notice it all, see it all, know it all. But no, no that was not the reason you had avoided him. At least not completely. 

You wanted to tell him, talk to him, get help. Or something along those lines. At the same time, you felt shame, pain and an array of doubt as to how he would react but also regarding your infliction of pain through verbally admitting what you felt to the one you loved so deeply. The storm inside you that was black clouds of endless dust that howled about your insignificant worth made you feel horrible in every way. Yet, the one thing you did not want was to hurt him. Drag him into the storm. Pain him with your selfish thoughts when you knew, knew what he had been through - for years . 

I have no right. No right to feel like this. I should be happy. Should be grateful. I’m alive, I have a home, a man who loves me and the world is safe again. I know I should feel all these things. Should be filled with love and joy. He survived, we found each other. Yet, he is just so damn much and I’m just, not worthy of any of it... 

“(Y/n), talk to me,” he said all of a sudden as he put down his cutlery. You lifted your head, allowed your eyes to meet his and tugged your lips up into a smile. “Darling, I don’t understand what you’re going on about. I’m fine, everything is good. I’m good.” “You are not good!” The sudden change of his tone startled you for a second. His gaze was intense and penetrating. As if he looked through you. You gasped as you felt his intrusion in your mind and you had no chance of blocking him out. 

He saw everything. Every little thing that you had desperately tried to hide from him. The hurt, the doubt, the horrors of your mind that filled your days with anxiety and sorrow. He slithered through your mind with such power and speed you barely had a chance at breathing as your mind raced with thoughts you had wanted to hide. But, it is as they say. If someone says ‘do not think of an elephant’, what do you think of? An elephant. And that elephant was all of your fears combined with all of the pain. 

His eyes watered and you stood with such speed that the chair toppled. “Severus-” you breathed out with a mixture of emotions that were nothing but bad. Your lip quivered as tears rolled down your cheeks before you dashed out of the kitchen and ran towards the bathroom. You closed and locked the door a mere second before he pulled at the handle. “(Y/n). Open the door,” he said with a slight shake to his voice. But you simply curled up in the tub and hugged your legs, your knees against your forehead as tears wet your clothes and skin. 

He banged at the door, twice, and you shivered. He saw it, he saw it, he’ll hate me, he’ll be furious with me. I have no right to feel this, I’m not worthy of, anything… The fear of him feeling such things towards you made you nauseous and afraid. “Please, love, open the door. Let me in,” he said through the wood that separated you. But you didn’t move. Then a click was heard and he had used the unlocking spell to let himself in. You hugged your knees tighter. Buried your head with more force as you tried to stop the sobbing that wanted to crawl its way out of your mouth from the depths of your chest. 

You felt his hand on your back as you heard the ruffling of fabric as he lowered himself beside the tub. “Love, please,” he whispered and pain was evident in his voice. You curled up further, as much as you could. I hurt him. I hurt him just like everyone else has done. You’d be better off without me, I know you would. I’m such a fucking coward, why haven’t I just- just- just ended it?! I’m not worthy of breathing the same air as you. I should have died. I should have died with the others. Someone else should have lived, I should have died in that war. “Love, don’t.” 

It was too late when you felt his presence in your mind as your dark thoughts buried you in such cold depths you barely registered that he lifted you out of the tub. His arms wrapped beneath and around you. His thin lips pressed themselves against your head and you let go of the clawing sob. It escaped through your quivering lips and Severus tensed. 

“Love, you are my everything. My whole world. You, are the very reason that I am living. You are-” “Unworthy of your love,” you breathed out in a hushed whisper. To say the words out loud felt as if someone drove a piping hot branding iron down your throat. “It is I who is unworthy of you ,” he whispered against the top of your head as he sunk to the floor and cradled you, “I should have seen, noticed, I should have been there for you like you have always been for me. I am so sorry, love.” 

Had this been one of those stupid romance novels I would have been all smiles and happy by now. To hear you say that. I would have been cured of these feelings. But apparently, life is not like that… The thoughts and feelings you had had for so long had not lessened in any way. Had not disappeared just because of his adoring words. They were as strong as ever. But now, now there was also the pain of having hurt him and made him feel unworthy or lesser. It was agony and you had no way to deal with it other than to cry. 

Darkness had fallen long before you finally stopped crying. Everything in your body ached and you knew Severus was stiff and sore from the odd position on the hard floor, with you in his lap. “I am so sorry, love,” he whispered for the umpteenth time. “I’m tired,” you whispered back as your mind kept spinning with all the things you had tried to bury. To hide. Things from before the war and after the war. Life, death, loss and gain. “Let’s get you to bed,” he simply said and the thunder in his voice felt subdued. A mere distant rumble and it made you feel strange.  

He rose with you in his arms, carefully cradled as if you would break with any hasty motion. You felt the stiffness in his movements, yet he didn’t say a word about it. He simply carried you through the hallway and placed you on the bed with gentleness. You turned and laid on your side as your mind echoed the words ‘insignificant, worthless, unbearable’ over and over and over as Severus pulled the cover up over you. “I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered before he kissed your head, “I will help you, in any way I can. Please don’t, don’t leave me...” 

The room was silent after those words and a moment later you heard him take a shuddering breath before he left. You were alone. In that moment, something desperate clawed in you. A fearful thought crossed your mind and pain travelled through your veins as if they were freezing with an ice-cold breath. He’ll leave me now, he’ll see that I’m not worth anything. That, that he is better off without me. Strangely enough, that scared you. Even if it had been the very epicentre of your dark thoughts and agonizing pain lately it was different now. He knew now. Perhaps it was the end and all you had feared was actually true? That you meant nothing, was worth nothing. Nothing at all.  

You shivered, turned to lay on your back and grabbed the cover to take it off but at that moment the door opened. You turned your head only to see a broken man in the doorway. His eyes glinted with unshed tears and his shoulders slumped. He looked nothing like your Severus. Nothing at all like the powerful and strong man you had fallen for.

“I will never leave you. I love you, (y/n).” You looked at him as the words vibrated through you in a low tone. “I would have been dead if it were not for you,” he continued and the words elicited a gasp from you. You could not even fathom the idea of a world without Severus. Such a place couldn’t even exist in your wildest fantasies. He was everything. “A world without you, would be worthless and empty. You are everything to me and I want to keep you forever, here, with me. No matter how selfish that may be, I need you with me. Or I shall perish.” 

Your heart fluttered with a need for his love as his words landed somewhere in the darkest parts of your mind. The parts where screams and falling bodies lingered. The part where dark clouds of dust swirled with sorrow and pain. The part where no dawning light had shined for years. There his words landed, settled. A small crack in the clouds allowed a single ray of sunshine to come through as gentle words of thankfulness for all who had survived could be heard, even if they were muffled by distant memory and buried beneath all the bad things. 

You removed the cover and sat up slowly. As your feet touched the carpet something jolted in you. You ran towards him, slammed your body into his so harshly that he took a staggering step back as his arms wrapped themselves around you with such haste you were nearly surprised. “Please, love, please. Stay and go through this with me. Together,” he breathed out and you nodded as new tears leaked from your eyes. “I will-, will try…” It was the only kind of thing you could say as you clung to that tiny sliver of light in the depths of the darkness. That tiny little ray of warmth that was your beloved and his love for you. 

 Epilogue: 

It had been nearly six months. For six months he had guarded you, tended to you, helped you through the pain and anxiety attacks too many times to count. He had cred, you had cried and several times it felt hopeless. As if nothing would ever change the darkness that clung to you on the inside, in the depths of your mind. 

But he had encouraged you, supported you, helped you in all ways possible. Even on days when you wanted to run away from it all and give up, he made sure you could see light and feel warmth. He had confided in you as well. His fear of losing you, his pain in seeing you turn into someone he did not know, the anguish of not knowing and not being able to help. The horror that had raked through him each time you had shut him out with lies of how great and good everything was. His fear that he was not enough for you, that he was not what you wanted. 

But now, after months of hard work, tears, open communication and desperate attempts at surviving through it all you felt lighter. The dark clouds of dust were nearly gone as light bathed most of your inner self; a warmth spread like the gentle breeze of a summer night. It was thanks to him, to your beloved, and your own hard work. Your own strength and determination to not yield and succumb to the darkness. Even on days when it was most tempting to escape it all swiftly. 

You had fought. Struggled. Won battle after battle. Some battles were lost but the war was being won, one fight at a time. You did that. You fought on and conquered the pain, the sorrow and despair. The abysmal voice that echoed horrendous words of unworthiness and shame had nearly been silenced and replaced with a growling noise of power and love. His voice, his sound, it saved you time and time again as you allowed love to actually unfold and be a part of your life. As you allowed yourself to be alive even if you were not always sure you should be. 

You did not give those thoughts more than a swift glance as they passed by in your mind. They were not worthy of your emotional investment. They were false and wrong. You would not succumb to them no matter what as you had finally found your will to live accompanied by a need to do so happily - despite everything your mind had whispered, you were worthy. You just needed help to break free of the darkness and see yourself for the worthy person that you would always be. No matter what, you would always be worthy of life.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3

A/N: I want to say thank you to the Nonny who sent this request and I want to yet again remind everyone that you are worthy of all good things and being suicidal or harming yourself does not take that away! If you are harming yourself or have suicidal thoughts, find and ask for help! You are worth it, worthy of help and of life! Thank you for being here with us. ❤️

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[Feb:2021]

Bhu’ja-Lulij a.k.a. Bhu’ja-Hulij (Mad Ghost)

Mad Ghost is M’hsi’s great-great-great granduncle and the third disgraced Odd Crest within recent history, as well as the oldest surviving member. He is also the only Odd Crest to be formally declared a Bad Blood, for his crime of partaking in tough meat, the cannibalization of another Yautja. He has since disappeared into the desert for the following 600 years, eluding capture.

Before committing the actions that led to that, he was named Mad Ghost in part of his split-strategies during Hunts- alternating being elusive and silent despite his massive size like a ghost, or charging like a bat out of hell as if gripped by an all-encompassing rage with his trademark axe. Mad Ghost was also named for his habit of sleepwalking and talking, which usually increased in frequency in times of stress. Wandering in the middle of the night muttering ominous nothings, with blank but open eyes and becoming violent when trifled with earned him a name befitting someone who acts like a restless spirit.

Mad Ghost was always eager to go on Hunts and relished in the bloodshed and recovery of trophies. In his free time, he either trained, observed and upkept his trophies, or played music. When he wasn’t slaughtering during a Hunt, he recorded human music he heard (typically church songs and choirs).

He was in his 300s when a Hunt on NV-39W resulted in a cave-in that trapped him in an air pocket with the already deceased body of his Hunt-brother Tieri. Presumed dead, the Hunting party (including a then-young Zazin) returned a few months later to retrieve the expected bodies, instead finding a starving Mad Ghost digging into Tieri’s disembodied leg next to his ravaged corpse. He was accordingly subdued, put under, and given medical attention while transported back to Yautja Prime for his sentence, either death or exile on a hostile planet.

Before a conclusion was reached, Mad Ghost awoke and escaped containment, disappearing into the deserts of Yautja Prime.

Over the following 600 years since his escape, Mad Ghost sought to demonstrate that his crime did not define who he was, never again partaking of tough meat and telling anyone he could have a conversation with that he only did it out of desperation. Believing that he was not the same as other Bad Bloods and to show he belonged back in normal society, Mad Ghost also tracked down and killed other Bad Bloods, especially those whose crimes were not as forgivable as his.

Spending the majority of his time alone in caves or makeshift shelters, he privately grappled with the trauma of the accident, being trapped with the body of a Hunt-brother he could not save, and being forced to eat it until his capture. He will not know rest until he knows if Tieri forgives him or not. Since the incident, Mad Ghost’s sleeptalking subjects have been exclusively about his experiences wasting away next to and eating Tieri’s body.

Enforcers and cocky Hunters had tried their hand at tracking down the legendary Mad Ghost, who typically avoided even being spotted. In the rare cases he was discovered, he easily won the skirmishes and purposefully left his assailants alive, just short on weapons. Careful not to take any weapons that could track him, Mad Ghost was seldom seen, never heard, but a popular urban legend among the clan in his absence.

Mad Ghost’s story was recorded accurately within records of the incident and the memories of those still alive to have witnessed it, but word of mouth has warped the story so heavily as to demonize Mad Ghost as Tieri’s murderer, a willing cannibal, or an unwilling cannibal warped into a beast who hungers for flesh and continues to crave and feast in the desert on stragglers. Even his attempts to garner support by killing Bad Bloods has been spun by mass opinion into him betraying his own kind yet again: first by turning on Yautja society by eating tough meat, and again by killing his fellow Bad Bloods. Some believe he has died given his obscurity, and some even doubt his existence in the first place, considering it a wild story to malign the clan’s resident punching bags, the Odd Crests.

The local plays have rendered Mad Ghost a sort of pierrot/harlequin/trickster stock character, with protagonists being lost in the desert as a fictionalized and flanderized version of Mad Ghost portrayed by an actor appears to lead them astray, terrorize them, or devour a side character. Few plays are actually about him, instead relegating a fictionalized retelling to a side plot, or feature him nearly contextlessly without dedicating a scene to his “backstory”. Even his name itself had been run through the mud, as the Yautja words for mad (angry), l’ulij-bpe, and mad (crazy), h’ulij-bpe, rhyme, resulting in insulting wordplay.

His time spent in the desert, through both sun-bleaching and age, has turned his hair and spines white. Though 900 years old and nearly an Ancient himself, Mad Ghost still clings to his wasted youth and as a result, uses the tar pits in the deserts of Yautja Prime to dye his hair black. His lack of spines and the dye cause him to look as young as he did before the incident.  When he is seen with white hair, he is perceived as a spirit or crazed old man, and with black hair, regarded as potentially some kind of eternal supernatural being that Death has abandoned.

Mad Ghost constantly forgets his age and generally acts as he did when he was 300, with a few added behavioral tics such as a tremor, a perpetually unhinged mouth, and a lack of indoor voice. His true age is usually remembered when recalling the past, winning an argument, or making a joke.

After centuries of processing the grief and guilt, Mad Ghost finds himself secure enough to joke about his experiences, insisting he’s finally over it. When asleep, his grief and guilt manifest through his sleepwalking and talking.

When M’hsi returns from her trials, given Mad Ghost’s known slaying of Bad Bloods, sparing the lives of Enforcers, and the ambiguous nature of his original crime, her restoring the Odd Crest honor will revoke his Bad Blood status. Upon her return and recuperation, M’hsi will don her mask, and carrying his previously confiscated axe, find Mad Ghost to tell him the good news. Upon seeing her face and odd crest, he stops reacting with hostility and welcomes his new family with open arms and eagerly fawns over his niece and nephews as they house him. Zazin helps catch him up to speed with modern Yautja society (and providing him with the company of someone actually his age).

Given his streak of victories when barely armed in the desert, he spends his twilight years training M’hsi alongside Vosandi, under Halkrath’s guidance. Depending on how long Mad Ghost lives, he plans on training Lo’bane as well (wishing to wait until Lo’bane is old enough to stand a chance against him).

Mad Ghost’s biggest issue with his newly normal lifestyle is the repetitive debunking of rumors about him and his life. He is especially disgusted with how everyone has memorized his name, yet rarely speak of Tieri, whom he remembers well as a friend and real person (which the public treats him not). Enraged to the point of hilarity at their joint portrayal in the clan’s media, he pens his own account of events titled The Dark Well of Sweet Light in an attempt to set the record straight.

During his time in the well, Mad Ghost did not come close enough to death to meet Cetanu, unlike Halkrath. However, his survival, too, was a result of the whim of Cetanu, who chose to take Tieri’s life and spare the Odd Crest rather than the other way around. Mad Ghost suspects this is so but will not learn the truth and Tieri’s feelings until he himself passes. As he nears the end of his life, like an Ancient, he becomes more in tune with the abstract and spiritual as Zazin is.

You Remind Me Of My Own Unhappiness (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,587

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @brithedemonspawn @megnotfound @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes @lucillethings @miahelen @valkyrie-2312

A/N: A lil writing before I start requested prompt fics, which are still open btw!!!! Ngl, I've had this is my head for a while, and it turned out better than I expected!!!!! I've been reading for my horror fiction class, so I guess this is kind of based off/inspired by all of it (lots of Poe, Jackson, King, etc.) so be warned my loveliest of loves!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: You knew too much for his comfort 💕

Gif Credit: @peakycillianblinders :)

FIC MASTERLIST PARTS 1 -> 3 / WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

The earth is soft in your palms, loose as your dig away, your fingers aching amidst the clumps and rocks. The maggots fall one by one off the bone, disturbed in their everlasting feast. Fresh in his mind, an open wound he leaves exposed, to bleed, to breath, to eat him alive. Shallow, as expected. Careless in execution. Impatient, your husband always in such a hurry. Even with this. Handful by handful, muddied, the morning dew undisturbed even as nightfall came. Smelling faintly of a sweet memory, that of the first time you kissed. The raindrops coming between you. Pulling away with a laugh, in awe, at how his beauty compared to that of a rainy day. Your shoes sinking deep, your hands clutching his arms as he pulls you from the muck, letting the slightest hint of a smile slip. The noise of that day, the plops from the pond, the quiet, yet powerful, taps of the leaves, the shudder of branches and bones alike cold from the breeze, the soft of his voice, low, teasing of all the things he'd do when you were alone. Lost, but not forgotten.

It doesn't exist here. The silence is heavy, deadly, respectful. Something he is not. Early, before the sun has her chance to even set and paint the sky. The in between, the dark not as inky as you remember, the stars fading in, resting for their show ahead. A creature of habit, your husban. Every night, at the same time, no matter what. Day by day, you grow less and less, and this becomes an ever harder task than before. Time staking, your movements slow, weary, all knowing of the journey ahead. There is an ache of gratefulness, a nod to the thoughtfulness you assumed he was lacking in, though it could have come out of selfishness none of the less. Not far from home. A quiet walk, that of seclusion. A quick pace, a tight jaw, he could have made the journey in no time. Your body was not as forgiving

No wooden box. Not eternal flame. A sheet, dirty now, and spotted in red, tangled around you. Wet and cold. The same sheets you used to wash, scrubbing clean, that thick soap smell no longer. One more thing you'd miss, the newness of this dying as each minute ticked by. That excitement, that joy, that want for anything more fades as all things do, decomposing with the rest of you. It's become a duty, an obligation, to him, to your marriage, as all things had been, or would become.

There is no where else to go. Nothing more to do. A broken routine was a broken man. Fight it, resist, and you might find him in the tub again, his spine kissing the porcelain, neck bent, waiting to sink until he finds the bottom. You might find him in the bed you shared, eyes open, never crossing that split down the middle, always faced away from your side. You might find him out, at the bar, a job, surrounded, your presence striking him, bloodying his lip. He stares, his balance off, truly shaken to his core. You are a guest he does not share, a secret he locks in his closet, a beating heartbeat under his floorboards.

So, you give up fighting, as you had the last time, and accept this battle lost. Wave your white flag, shaking yourself free of the sheets, standing uneasily on your own rotting skeketon. Step by step, your toes tearing, soles wasting, the entirety of you threatening to cave, making your way home. Tendons frayed, splitting apart. Your flesh bloated, runny, what's left is chewed away. You can feel it all. Your teeth chatter by the openings that were your cheeks, the cold passing right through you, whistling through your open ribcage. Dreadfully exposed. All of it is heavy. With nothing to hold, to cling to, you're stitched together by a single thread. You pull forward with all your strength, choking back a scream. It wasn't pain, not anymore, your nervous system long gone, but the memory of it bursts through your open chest the way it had in that moment, before everything seeped away in a puddle beneath you, and the warmth of your body grew into icy cold.

Your hair is all but gone, just like your middle. Innards spilling into your clothes, filling out, everything once protected inside catching their first taste of freedom. You give up making yourself anymore presentable. You could pass for sickly, at your best, even tired in the beginning. The bags under your eyes gone now, eaten away, the green tint to your demeanor disappeared, leaving nothing but a rotting smell. There was no hiding this, hiding the time that's passed. The flies buzz, bugs crawl freely. It's much their home as yours. You click, a tune you suspect is music to his ears, but it only leaves an ache in your hollow chest. There isn't much left of you, there isn't much more time.

How long does he want to do this?

How much longer can you?

The light streams through the windows, a welcomed warmth. You missed it. You missed that comfort, that knowledge of a place being yours. All you had left to your name was a hole in the ground, weak and muddy. Even then, few knew it was yours at all. The back door, the one only homeowners used. You could see it, your skeletal hand resting weakly on the heavy door. A night like every other. Pressing your ear to the door, listening, as if the pull from his want, his need to see you, hadn't tugged you the whole way here. This act, so small, so innocent, had lead to consequences he could never take back.

Listening, waiting, your own breath no longer a distraction, your own heartbeat no longer drumming through your veins, interrupting every word. It was the only way. Banished, shunned, turned away. Though you wrote his name, you did not share blood, a defining trait he could not look past. The business, family business, turned you away. Complicit, docile, that's what he expected, what you tried to be. Yes, Love. No, Love. For your own protection, Love, as if it hadn't been the barrel of his gun pointed at your chest.

Not everything, but enough, your first mistake was making it known. Invading his world one word at a time, overstepping boundaries with a bit of advice. That was all it took. You realized too late, none of it you could ever take back. Pleading, wide eyed, you promised not to say anything more, to keep your distance between the job, but the damage was done. He changed before your eyes. Tight, rigid, masking himself, crawling back into his shell. He trusted you, he did, but not after that. A man like him could trust no one, not even the person he married. If you knew, who else did? Even the smallest detail could be dangerous. It could coolapse his entire empire. He didn't want to, insisting there was another way, but they agreed as long as you lived, knowing what you did, none of them were safe. A family by name, hardly by choice.

So, by their insistence, he pulled the trigger.

He dragged the body.

He dug a shallow grave.

He made an elaborate story, one of belief, of half-truths, and throw away lines about your solemn departure seeking a new life, abandoning your husband for something else, each of them chipping pieces and plots to the story, anything to help them sleep a little easier.

And here you sat, the hard wood of your dining room chairs puncturing your back. There are two plates, and two sets of silverware. A candle is lit between you. Not always, but tonight it seems he's been missing you more. A napkin sits on your lap, waiting, covering the mangled mass that used to be your lower half. He sits across from you, the space between you large enough to seat the entire family. Only two, though. Everyone else has left, gone, suspecting what it is Mr. Shelby is up to, wondering why they are let go more frequently, always at the exact same time. He musters up a smile, that of pain, with horror in his eyes, finally realizing just how cruel this has all been for you. You smile back, pieces of you ripping open, your lips uncurling, splitting in two, revealing a mouth empty of teeth.

Thomas speaks lightly of the day passed. The endless dread of paperwork, the faint gnaw that someone has been following him lately, a special nod to the advice he took from you that had been successful. No thank you, though. No admittance of grief or wrongdoing, no apology, not even a word of what you were really doing here. He couldn't let go, move on, he couldn't shake the guilt that woke you each night and put you to bed hours later. You were dead, killed by his own hand, had been for quite some time. Yet, every night after the murder you joined him. For dinner, for drinks, to sleep beside him in the bed you shared since your wedding day. Step by step, decaying in your time of rest, the same thought in your mind over and over, never letting it escape your lips, you knew better from the last time: when would he let you rest in peace?