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strawberryya · 4 months

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The art of seduction - part one

pairing: jeong yunho x reader

synopsis: Since she left you, it feels like your life has been turned upside down, and you're struggling to find your footing. He sees that, and he wants to help. Or maybe it's not as pure as that. Perhaps he's just looking for a new plaything — an artist to inspire, or someone to slowly destroy.

word count: 4.5k

genre/cw: angst, smut, suggestive, fantasy, thriller and/or romance, yandere themes, supernatural au, faery au, leanan sídhe!yunho, human!reader, they/them pronounces for reader, I tried my best to keep all descriptions gn as well - I welcome all feedback on this area ofc, grief and death depicted/mentioned, specific smut warnings will be listed in each part.

rating: 18+

a/n: this has been a big project for so many people this year, and I would like to thank all of the inspiring people in this collab for all the fantastic ideas that has been contributed to make all of these fics possible. it has been a journey writing this, but this fic is only the beginning of the even longer journey that yunho and our mc will be going on ;)

this is part one of my first fic for the wonderful collaboration thrill of the hunt, hosted by @cultofdionysusnet - check out the other exciting and thrilling stories on the official master list here!

the second part to this story will be found here once it's posted. if you wish to be tagged in the continuation you can dm me, send an ask, or comment on this post <3

network tagging: @svthub @cultofdionysusnet @k-labels @kvanity-main

“Oh, he’s the most wonderful man I’ve ever met, y/n! He’s perfect… I didn’t think anyone could be so perfect until he came into my life. He makes me feel like I’ll never need anything ever again… like he and I are enough forever. I need you to meet him someday soon! I wanna introduce you to him, I promise you’ll love him too!”

You never got the chance to meet him. The more you think about it, the more you regret not making more of an effort to do so. Your best friend Anna had been in love with someone, and you hadn’t even had the chance to meet the man she spoke so fondly of.

“I haven’t been feeling very good lately, y/n… I’ve been to the doctors and they say there’s nothing wrong. They said it’s all in my head, that I should go talk to someone… y/n, do you also think I’m making myself sick?”

She only got weaker after that.

And he had seemingly fallen off the face of the earth after she became bedridden.

She said he came to visit, but she wasn’t in her right mind in those final weeks. Nobody had signed in at the reception. Nobody had seen a beautiful man with dark brown hair that gleamed blood-red when the sun shone. During all that time when she was admitted into the psychological ward at the city’s second-largest hospital you and Anna’s mom were the only visitors.

They said she was mad…

You had wondered a lot about who he might’ve been during those times when she had talked about him as if she had just spoken to him, but nobody had seen anyone in her room. Had he been a fraction of her imagination the entire time? Or had her mind created a lie based on a man who had left her before her illness took over her mind and body?

When she passed he was the one piece of the puzzle that you couldn’t let go of. If you had tried harder to meet him, would her illness have been caught earlier? Could it have been found and treated before it took her life…?

You’ve been staying late at the studio lately, trying to get through your feelings about losing her through your art. The shadows in the room seem to close in on you at every chance they get, and you don’t fight them. Hugged by the darkness is somehow better than being left so completely alone.

The brush strokes soothe you like nothing else is able to. Fizzling seas crash along the shore, a looming tree stands barren and alone, and her face appears in the dark clouds.

The only things you know to be true are that: she is gone, you are in pain, and you can only paint this one single picture. The lonesome tree at the cliff, watching the storms and waves trying to pull the ground away from beneath the large oak tree. You paint it over and over again, day after day, and you haven’t even paid any mind to when other artists have come and gone through the studio. People painted right next to you, people posed on the podium in front of you, and you didn’t care about any of it. All that matters to you is that you have been left all alone.

Your best friend has died, and you can’t even do the one thing you have been able to do your entire life ー paint. You had pursued your passion fiercely, not budging even as your parents pleaded with you to be reasonable and try “having a career worth having”, and let painting stay as a hobby. It was how you had met Anna. She was a dancer, and she had gotten into the same art college as you. Back then you had both been carefree young adults, simply trying your best to survive on your own for the first time in your lives. Now, she has left you, with the bittersweet taste of the last conversations you had had with her on your tongue.

“He inspires me you know, I’m just a dancer anymore when he looks at me, I become the air itself.”

You had smiled and nodded at her nonsense, she seemed to be dreaming of it. Her limbs were too weak to be of use, but she had the same smile on her lips as when she performed. You had tried your best not to be mad at her for only speaking of this man even as she lay dying in a hospital, dreaming of her passion was at least better than dreaming of him. The tears had stung your eyes as you held her hand before leaving her to her rambling.

It has been a while since her funeral, and you have practically been living at the studio. Home doesn’t make you feel any better, so you sleep on the small pullout couch in the corner instead. It isn’t meant to be slept on and your back is sore from the many nights in a row you have spent on it. But the art studio is at least comforting you more than home. You have too many memories of Anna in your apartment. Here you can focus on your art. At least, that’s the idea. You have had no inspiration since her death. It’s strange, she hadn’t exactly been the reason you painted, but everything that happened still affected even that part of you.

You had begun questioning if you should give it all up, move home to your parents for a few months, and go back to your waitress job until you had processed all of this. But could you give up on your passion? After years of struggling to pass courses and hustling on the side of your studies just to make it all work? What would Anna say if she knew…?

You aren’t sure how it happened, it might've been a dream. It’s barely been three weeks since Anna’s funeral and you woke up with the clearest picture of a man you had never met in your mind.

He’s handsome, just like she had told you. He has gentle features, and dark, captivating eyes that catch hold of your mind and refuse to let go. You can’t seem to escape the image of the stranger you know in your bones is the same man Anna had known.

Sometime after the day you had first seen him in your mind, after hours in front of your easel and a blank canvas, you finally force yourself to pick up the brush. This couldn’t be the end of pursuing the only career you had ever wanted. You need to get over it and paint something, other than that stubborn tree and the punishing sea. His features burn your eyelids, and you see him as you blink and dream of him as you sleep. You can’t escape the visions, so you make him real, tangible. You create a portrait of the man in your head. Watching the finished portrait once you put down the brush.

You look at it until it gets dark again, staring into his eyes until you fall asleep on the couch in the corner.

You wake up with a headache. You groan quietly since you neither have the energy nor the will to get up and take something for the throbbing pain stemming from the sides of your head. Before you could even summon the will to get up despite this, you almost jumped off the couch in surprise. There is another person in the room. You’re still in the corner of the room, so the stranger might’ve missed that you were even there, you reason. It looks like a man from behind. His short dark hair lay in a rather messy way against the back of his head. He’s turned away from you, watching the painting you had fallen asleep staring at. He’s tall, his shoulders are broad. You panic, because what did this man want, and why was he here in the middle of the night?

“Who are you?” you ask breathlessly, jumping up from the couch, trying to see if he’s someone you know in the dim light. Could he be another artist here to paint at an odd hour? You don’t recognize him, but you aren’t the best at remembering people, so you’re not sure if you should be screaming or apologizing for your hostile greeting.

The man didn’t even flinch at the sound of your voice. He didn’t seem like a threat, but then again, something about him creeped you out. You ignore the fact that he also intrigued you, and try to catch his attention again. “Hey, I asked you a question.” In response, he simply raises a hand as if to shush you.

This man hadn’t just broken into the studio late at night – he was also incredibly rude. The air around him is so still, so calm that it’s giving you chills. You want to see his face. If he was going to murder you, you want to have looked the fucker in the eye so you can, at least, curse his existence. You take a step forward, grabbing a long paintbrush from the drying rack. Maybe you can get his eye if you’re fast enough.

“So aggressive, little dove,” the man finally says. His voice is smooth and deep. It’s an attractive voice, at least your murderer has a nice voice, not that that makes this situation salvageable. You’re still prepared to stab him with the wooden brush in your hand.

“Wouldn’t you be aggressive if you woke up to a stranger in your bedroom as well?”

You had tried putting on a brave face, hoping that he wouldn’t notice how scared you were. He seemed to see through this facade easily though, chuckling at your attempt instead of turning around to face you. “Not your bedroom. I’ve been to your bedroom and this isn’t it. Also, not really a stranger, am I?”

Your breath won’t calm down, and your heart is beating mercilessly in your chest. This man had been in your apartment? And you know him? What the hell is he talking about? “Are you some kind of stalker you fucking creep?” you wheeze out, taking a step away from him.

You desperately wish for this to be some kind of nightmare.

When he turns around you’re sure it is because there’s no way the man you see in front of you isn’t just a fiction of your imagination. Dark hair, streaks of red when the light from the window hits it. Perfect lips, and captivating eyes. It’s him. The man in your painting, alive right in front of you. Your grip on the brush tightens, the bristles folding backward from the pressure of your palm. The world began to spin, he wasn’t real, he couldn’t be real. You see the edges of your vision blur and his smile widens at the visible panic you were displaying.

He was right, he isn’t a stranger.

“I think you might’ve heard about me, little dove. She used to talk about you ー the talented artist she had met in college.”

It couldn’t be, you hear the blood rushing in your ears like thunder. “Who?”

He smiled innocently, “Don’t you remember your friend? Anna, I think her name was.”

No. It couldn’t be true. The brush fell from your hand as you fell to the ground. Your already sleep-deprived mind couldn’t handle the thought that maybe the man Anna had spoken about was real, and right in front of you. Knocking yourself unconscious was the only thing your body could do to stop your heart from giving out.

Have you gone mad as well? Maybe this was your way of grieving? Should you go to the hospital?

The questions spun in your mind. He was gone when you woke up. But the long brush in your hand and the bruises on your knees and shoulder felt like substantial proof that you had not lost your mind. He had been here, you know it, but who would believe you if you told them? Who would even care?

You decide to let it go, instead, you force yourself to go back to your apartment. A change of clothes was needed and you know that the lady down the hallway will be worried after not having seen you for days yet again. She had been at Anna’s funeral, wondering how and why your roommate had passed so quickly at such a young age. You hadn’t known what to answer. You still didn’t have your own answers as to “how” or “why”. At least, none that you could share…

You had managed to shower and get into some clothes when your neighbor knocked on the door.

“Hi, Auntie,” you greet her as she had insisted you do ever since you and Anna had first moved in. She’s older than any of your real aunts, but remarking on that had felt incredibly inappropriate, so you had both simply accepted your fate and begun calling her “Auntie”.

"Darling!" How are you? I haven't seen you here in days! I was beginning to worry. You know, this was just how it was with Anna, I didn’t see her for days and then she would show up saying she had been busy practicing and dating and whatnot!”

You don’t respond, forcing a smile. She meant well, but when she insisted on bringing you some food you wanted to refuse her. She didn’t mind your protests, “Oh, dear child, you don’t even know how sunken your face looks. You need some of my home-cooked food to get your spirits back up!”

In the end, your refrigerator was filled with casseroles and little boxes of different dishes, and a bitter feeling, knowing you wouldn’t be here to eat it. You left your apartment as swiftly as you had arrived, not wanting to stick around long enough to see the traces of a life lived – a life you didn’t feel belonged to you anymore. You brought what you could carry in your bag back to the studio.

You fall asleep again, after hours of trying to create something, only creating more pain in your back from sitting on the wooden stool all afternoon instead. It’s not like you hadn’t tried your best to think about anything else besides him, you had actually tried your very best! But in the end, your mind kept wandering back to the dip of his lips, and the grin on his face as you fainted. You painted the outline of his lips, over and over again.

You hated him.

Would he come back?

He had mocked you with his words.

Why had you felt such a rush when he spoke?

You never wanted to see his perfect face ever again.

Why couldn’t you stop wishing to see him just one more time?

You woke from a cool hand on your hair. Slowly and gently he patted your head until you opened your eyes. It was still dark out, and he was back. Leaning over your sleeping body, a large hand caressing the side of your head. You scream, and he smirks. He shushes you, and you push him away angrily.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you shout.

“You wanted to see me again, I thought it best to wake you so your wishes could be fulfilled.” His voice coursed through you, giving you goosebumps again. “Don’t be angry with me, little dove.”

“I don’t want you here.”

“Don’t lie. It’s not polite,” he retorts as soon as the words leave your mouth.

“I don’t care, I hate you. Leave me alone!” You bark out the words, tears stinging your eyes. You don’t know why you’re reacting so strongly to him.

His tongue darts out to lick at his lips in annoyance. “Little dove,” he chirps menacingly, “Lie one more time and I won’t help you anymore.”

He terrifies you. He’s beautiful, but nothing about him feels true. He’s like those beautiful flowers forever trapped inside glass orbs. You wanted to protect the frozen beauty from getting the slightest scratch and smash it to pieces, all at once.

“Help me…?”

The gentle smile on his lips came back when you revealed that he had managed to pique your interest. “Mm, I help people. Artists, especially… it’s an interest of mine, the arts.” He winked at you, which caught you off guard.

“And you came here to help me?”

He nodded, but you weren’t convinced.

“Why? I didn’t ask for any help from you.”

He looked around the room, gaze wandering over the canvasses you had painted in the last couple of weeks, all depicting the shore and the dead tree. All except two. The portrait of him, and the sketches of his lips.

“You did that?” You ask incredulously. His gaze snaps back to you sharply.

“Of course. Didn’t it feel different? It felt like you had been inspired by something again, did it not?” His voice is honey in your ears, but the sticky feeling is making you want to flee for your life. You don’t.

“Want me to prove it?”

You frown, “What do you mean prove it? Are you going to inspire me to paint something on the spot in the middle of the night?”

“Tell me you want it and I’ll make sure you feel inspired for the rest of your miserable human life, little dove.”

His wording is so unnatural, you think for just a moment. You don’t trust him one bit, but perhaps this is the way to convince yourself that he is indeed just some creep that you need to get away from. You take a deep breath before answering, “I’ll agree if you tell me your name.”

The man stepped back, you had made him flinch. You don’t know why you made that exact demand. Maybe you had just really wanted to call him something other than “the one Anna spoke of” in your mind. It hurt each time you remembered her name.

“A name can be more powerful than you think, little dove,” his tone warned you of something. He seems on edge for the first time since you met him.

You don’t budge, his reaction only makes you more sure that you need to follow your gut. “Tell me, and you can help me.”

He hesitated before seemingly giving in to some innate need that you didn’t understand yet. “Yunho. That’s one of my names… Use it with care, little dove.”

You turned his name around in your mind, tasting the sweet taste on your tongue as you said it out loud. “Yunho… Sure, help me find inspiration to paint again.”

The same excited and menacing grin he had worn the last time you spoke now grace his lips again, and you feel you have committed a horrible mistake.

You look around the room, the sun is rising and casting long shadows from the easels placed around the podium. How has the entire night already passed you by? You have no memory of sleeping. You look at your hands, they are covered in paint. Why had you been so messy? You couldn’t remember right away. You know that you have painted. Yunho had kissed your hand, you can still remember the heat of his breath on your skin. Then you had picked up your brush. You hadn’t been frightened by the fact that you weren’t in control of your actions. After the weeks of forcing yourself to do the most basic human functions to stay alive, having something else move your hand in your stead was somehow freeing.

When you look at the canvas your breath stops. It’s him, you have painted him again. He’s not completely like himself, however, he is just as captivating in the picture as he is in reality. You had managed to capture his beautiful features, from the way his cupid’s bow dips graciously on his lips, to the way his hair gleams blood red when light shines through it. But behind him is something new, something you have never seen belonging to a human before. Wings, almost translucent wings, appearing on the canvas as a shimmer of light blue and white, adorned with shimmering ruby gemstones. He looked magnificent.

“Pretty,” you hear his voice whisper on your neck before you feel his soft lips press against your skin. You shiver, it feels good but you’re still in shock, watching the man who’s behind you on the canvas in front of you.

“How is this possible?” you mumble.

“You were inspired,” he responds calmly, brushing your hair away from your face from behind. “Did you enjoy it?”

You have a feeling that the answer to that is yes, but you also know you shouldn’t reveal that. “I don’t remember.”

“I think you did… I know you did.”

The way he seems to know everything, even the things you don’t, scares you a bit. But you might be addicted to the feeling of his touch, you’re addicted to what he can do to you, addicted to what he makes you feel deep inside. He has given you your passion back, he has helped you paint again, and you had enjoyed it this time. This shouldn’t be possible. Why does this man have so much power over you that he could help you paint as you had used to, for the first time since Anna’s passing?

There’s no way he’s human, no human looked like he did. In the morning light, he was even more dashing, even more unreal. You want to smash his perfect exterior to pieces and see the flower inside rot as the air hits its delicate petals.

“Go away. I don’t want this,” you choke out, pushing down the sobs that threaten to escape your throat. He kisses your neck again, but you don’t move. “I think I’ll die if I don’t end this Yunho. Please, just leave me alone.”

“It’s possible, but maybe you’ll be the one who makes it out alive.” His honey voice rang in your ears as the day began and his touch against your back disappeared. You cried yourself to sleep. You knew everything was wrong, Yunho was wrong. But there was nothing you could do about it anymore.

Two days passed without so much as a glimpse of Yunho. The hours of the night when he didn’t come to see you had almost been enough to convince you that you had truly gone mad. But then, suddenly, there he was, as dashing as ever. Pretty eyes watching you stare at an empty easel.

A chilling chuckle escaped him, nothing more. He stands and gazes upon your hopeless state for a while in silence. You will never get rid of him, you realize. You’re not upset about it. You can’t be upset. Nothing feels real anymore.

Yunho circles you, a predator watching his prey. You don’t flinch under his gaze this time. When he leans his lean body against the stool next to yours you feel disgusted. You weren’t upset that he would never leave you alone, but you deserved to know why, at least.

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” He sounds almost offended.

“You’re not here just because it’s fun to sit around and watch me paint all day.”

He didn’t give you an answer, he just smiled at you with that perfectly enchanting smile of his. He’s dangerous, his beauty is dangerous. He leans forward on the stool, his face now scarily close to yours. Will he kiss you…? You can feel Yunho’s breath, hot against your lips, his gaze burning as he stares into your eyes and flickers down to your mouth. Do you want him to kiss you…?

What do you want from him?

You almost forget that he hasn’t given you an answer when he bends forward, his lips inches away from yours. This time you do flinch. Can he read your mind too? No, your eyes stare right back into his, a flash of maroon tints his irises an unnatural color before it disappears just as fast as it showed up.

His thumb drags across the side of your cheek, a small smirk plays on Yunho’s deceptive lips. “I’ll make you a promise,” he whispers, “I promise to make sure you’re motivated to do what you love the most, for the rest of your life.”

His breath burns hot against your wet lips. You want to kiss him. “A promise…?” you exhale, mind not quite able to focus on his words, but they sound good to you right now. You swallow, eyes flickering to his perfectly shaped cupid bow, his rosy lips, and the tongue that teases behind his plump lips. “What… what would I have to do…?”

“A clever dove, I knew you would ask the right questions.”

You didn’t truly understand though, too distracted by Yunho’s eyes mirroring your flickering gaze, teasingly watching the way your hands fiddled with the brush in your hand.

“All you have to do in return is say that you agree, and I will fulfill all of your wishes.” His soothing hand moves around to the nape of your neck, his grip gentle but secure.

Will he fulfill them all?

Does it even matter? Almost anything would be good enough to accept right now, at least you can’t think of something that would be worse than walking through life as the zombie you had been since… Since Anna’s death. If you accept his proposal, will you find out what happened to her?

“I agree.”

Your stomach flips when plush lips are pressed against yours. It seems he had already begun living up to his word. At least he wasn’t playing a trick on you when it came to that part. His hands travel over your body, he knows exactly how to touch you the way you like it. Has he been watching you for a long time? Or is it something magical, like those shimmery wings you had imagined he had? You’re not sure, but knowing could wait until later. Right now you have a couple of needs. Needs that Yunho had promised to fulfill. His leg firmly presses open your legs, strong muscle relieving some of the intense pressure that had built up in your lower abdomen since the thought of having him in this way had sprouted in your mind. You need more. You close your eyes even tighter as you let the brush fall from your grip. Hands moving across Yunho’s perfect form without hesitation.

The sound of the brush hitting the floor didn’t reach your ears. You were already lost to the world of humans.

“Do you believe in fairies? I do. I think there are things we don’t know in this world. Magical things. If I could go there I would, I think it’s a beautiful place, nothing like Earth. I’d want to dance for them…”

Reblogging and commenting is highly appreciated!! Hearing what you thought is what makes writing and being here overall so much fun! Ty and ily 💕

#kwritersworldnet #thrill of the hunt #yunho smut #ateez imagines #ateez smut #yunho angst #ateez x reader #atz #yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #ateez yunho

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sonakkisbrainrot · 21 days

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read: playlists are super down below so keep scrolling!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always.

Hello Hello! Welcome to my first ever post on tumblr that just had to be about my ultimate top tier favorite visual novel of all time..Our Life: Beginnings & Always or OL:BA for short.

This game has such a special place in my heart that im afraid I’ll forever be attached to it because at this point it’s not even a phase anymore lol. I still remember that heated summer day of scrolling down on my steam shop out of boredom and i kept getting recommended OL:BA but back then i really couldn’t care less and would not even spare a glance on it until i got so fed up of it popping up in my recommended for the next few days that i decided to finally check it out.

Reading what it was about made me curious but what really got me downloading it was because of the customization of our character/characters.

And finally into the game i was! I remember when the story started, i was very surprised already by the environment, narrative and world building of the game. It truly felt like i was part of it and i didn’t get bored at all. In fact right from the start i was hooked already!

I loved ALL of the characters that was introduced, i love the fact that it was SO multiple choice that it felt like you were really integrating yourself/oc onto the game and that you’re not just forced to say the same thing as a different choice or feel as though your options are limited. Its definitely a game that you’re supposed to replay over and over because its just that fun!!

And as someone who has never had a great childhood and adolescence, absentee parent, chaotic household, unsupportive friends, want to be understood (you know…this and that) i was so happy that this game was doing that and it genuinely gave me hope to live despite going through the darkest of times in my life :)

This game has changed me into a better person and made me want to be the best version of myself that i want to be in the future! I will infinitely recommend this to anyone who wants to have a feel good game/read (+1 it will make you cry!!)

Anyway enough yapping 💀 Time to get to the point.

Here are some playlists i made dedicated to the lovable characters of OL:BA that i personally listened to during my walkthrough and may relate to their route/lore ;)

read: playlists are super down below so keep scrolling!!

1# COVE HOLDEN

the og love interest!

summer with cove holden.

this playlist is the epitome vibes of the game (growing up with them and having fun, making memories.)

from beginnings to always with cove holden.

spoiler alert!! MARRIAGE DLC WOOOO!! really love this one cuz its all full of cute romance and wedding songs. i also put some songs that i think mc and cove would have when they get kids :3

#2 DEREK SUAREZ

MY PERSONAL FAVORITE!!

DEREK IS JUST SOOOO AAHHHH He’s my ideal man and i KIN him so bad you dont even know!!!

derek suarez crushing on you.

THIS PLAYLIST. IM TELLING YOU. one of the FAVES i made!! the pining, secret crush on mc for a loong time, the angst GOSH. so cute. every song in this plays a part on each moment with him i swear

#3 BAXTER WARD

ANGST MAN.

5 years after baxter ward.

one thing i noticed about our life is it lacks certain angst aspects when the baxter dlc didn’t exist YET back then. like i LOVED the fight between mc and cove in mcs room and i wanted it to escalate more ngl just cuz i LIVE for angst! but if you want to get real hurt you should choose baxter. this playlist focuses more on the last step of his dlc and its full of taylor swift songs.

baxter ward.

honestly this playlist is catered more to his vibes, his character (i listen to this playlist and i imagine edits of him lol) but i guess some songs are related to his story/lore? i made this waaay before 5 years after baxter ward and when the baxter dlc didn’t exist yet and we all just knew him to be as the new neighbor in sunset bird but people like it i guess so here it is xD

anyway thats all for OL:BA series! GB Patch is cooking up Our Life Now & Forever and it’s not released yet! just on demo on steam and itch! i already have a playlist for it but so far i have only made Qiu Lin (one of the leads of the game) i also have a privated filo inspired playlist for baxter if you want to listen to it let me know so i can put it up in public!

#our life beginnings & always #our life #cove holden #derek suarez #visual novel #video games #games #spotify #music #spotify playlist #character playlist #baxter ward #olba mc #olba #olba derek #olba cove #olba baxter #Spotify

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herofics · 1 year

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Dabi Dragon AU, part 1

I got this request on wattpad about fantasy AU Dabi being a dragon. He gets injured and crashes into a forest where the reader finds him and helps him get better. I added a bit of a twist and made it so he's a dragon shifter, because I just kinda needed the human aspect for my purposes, also black hair/scales since I like it more than the white. I plan to write more parts to this and I’m gonna tag this with “dragon AU”, so you can find all the parts under that tag. It ended up super long for me so under the cut

You were walking back home from the village, when you saw something huge and black falling from the sky. You could feel a big thud as it hit the ground about five dozen meters to your right.

You were sometimes a bit too curious for your own good, and this was definitely one of those times. You couldn’t resist the urge to go see what exactly had fallen out of the sky, so you stepped off the path and into the forest you went.

It only took you a minute to make your way through the thicket and get to the spot where the thing had fallen.

Except it wasn’t a thing, it was a dragon.

“Holy shit” you whispered, drawing the dragon’s attention to yourself.

You’d heard stories from hunters and mercenaries passing through town, about how there was a huge black dragon living on a nearby mountain. You’d seen it occasionally too, taking people’s livestock for food, but you’d never imagined you’d get such a close look at it.

Dabi couldn’t really think straight, he knew he’d crashed into the forest, but he didn’t know where exactly, and he wasn’t looking forward to a mob of angry villagers coming at him with torches and pitchforks.

So when he heard a voice and saw someone entering his field of vision, he just spewed fire in that direction.

The dragon managed to burn the tree next to you and even though you could clearly feel the heat, you weren’t in any danger.

“Hey, hey, I’m not gonna hurt you! I just wanna help!” you exclaimed.

Dabi wasn’t in a very trusting mood, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. He could stay there and wait for the hunters to find him, or he could take your offer of help and possibly live to see another day. He decided to take the gamble and trust you.

A small tornado of fire erupted in front of you and when it dissipated, there was a bloody man with dragon features on all fours on the ground in front of you. You were so very thankful that at least he was wearing pants.

“Wow” you gasped.

“Help me, human” the man commanded weakly.

“What did I get myself into…” you muttered as you stepped closer.

You couldn’t not help him. He was a person and you couldn’t just leave him to die.

You grabbed the dragon man from under his arm and helped him up. You threw his arm over your shoulder and started pretty much dragging him towards your cabin. He was just barely staying on his feet and you had to support most of his weight.

“Goddammit you’re heavy” you grumbled.

“Shut up and walk” the dragon man growled.

When you got to your cabin, you dragged him inside and he collapsed onto your bed. He was out cold as you started to tend to his wounds. He was covered in deep gashes, smaller cuts and bruises. You covered his wounds with moss and wrapped strips of fabric around them to aid in the healing process. You were a botanist so you knew well the healing properties of specific plants. This particular moss would help ward off infection and help the wound heal faster.

“You got hurt pretty bad, huh” you said as you wrapped the last wound on his leg.

You felt bad for him, you knew he was the dragon that had been taking people’s livestock, but surely he didn’t deserve to be killed for it. You didn’t want to speculate on what else he might have done to incur the wrath of the hunters that had come after him. You just wanted him to get better.

When you looked back up at his face, you saw two strikingly blue eyes staring back at you. He didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare at you.

“Oh, you’re awake, good” you said and stood up, trying to take a few steps back, but he stopped you by grabbing your wrist very tightly.

Dabi didn’t know what to say to you. He wasn’t used to receiving any kind of kindness from humans, so he was quite sure you had some sort of ulterior motive for helping him.

“What do you want from me? Surely you wouldn’t help me just out of the goodness of your heart” he grumbled, still holding onto your wrist.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just don’t like people dying when I can do something to help” you said.

If you were to be honest, you would’ve had to admit to yourself that you were absolutely terrified. You’d heard the tales about the dragon that dwelled in the mountains, and if those tales were to be believed, you were in trouble if you happened to anger him.

Dabi let go of your wrist, but you didn’t move, you just stood there for a while before saying: “You must be hungry, I know I am. I’m going to make us some supper”

“Meat” Dabi said, more as a command than anything.

“I-I don’t have any, but I make good vegetable soup” you gulped.

“I guess I’ll eat you then” he smirked devilishly as he slowly sat up on the bed and licked his lips.

You took a few steps back and Dabi could see the fear in your expression. He quite liked the face you were making, but he wasn’t strong enough to hunt you right now, he just wanted to make sure you would be intimidated and under his thumb.

“I guess I’ll settle for your soup this time, human”

You sighed in relief and started making the food. You ate in silence, but the amount of food that would usually last you a couple of days, was gone in a matter of minutes as your guest gulped down all of it.

“So what happened to you anyway? You look like someone tried to kill you” you noted, trying to get rid of the awkward silence.

“They tried, but it never ends well for anyone who tries” Dabi said.

“Well that’s ominous” you remarked.

“Hmm” Dabi muttered, looking at you up and down.

“What?” you asked, looking at him up and down in turn.

“You interest me, human”

“You could stop calling me “human” and use my name” you said.

“And what would that be, human?”

“(Name). How about yours?”

“You can call me… Dabi” he said after a while of consideration.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Dabi” you smiled at him.

You were still nervous around him, you didn’t really know him after all. You’d never met a dragon before but now that you had, you didn’t really know what to think about him. He wasn’t what you’d expected of a dragon. What you expected was to get burnt to death on sight, so this was a very different experience from that.

As the night drew nearer, you had a realization. There was only one bed. One quite small bed, and two of you. One man-dragon, that would take up over half of the bed on his own, because of his tail and you, who was never good at sleeping in a small space.

“Sooooo, we have a bit of a problem…” you started. “There’s only one bed…”

“I don’t see the problem here” Dabi yawned, laying on his side on the bed and scratching his stomach.

“Of course you don’t” you muttered as you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. You were just going to sleep. With a very attractive man in your bed, who didn’t really seem to have any sort of boundaries.

“Oh god” you muttered, burying your face into your hands.

“Just shut up and let me sleep” Dabi growled, and grabbed you by the arm, making you yelp as he pulled you down on the bed.

“Why-why did you do that?” you stammered, as you laid with your back against his chest, just staring into the darkness of the room.

“Because you need to shut up so I can sleep” he huffed.

“O-okay”

“Shut up” Dabi snarled.

You shut your mouth and tried to focus on anything else but the fact that he was so close. You could feel his chest moving against your back as he breathed in and out.

Only when you were certain he was asleep could you relax. The moment you did, you could feel something wrapping around the lower part of your leg. It was warm, rough and it was covered in scales.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” you whispered.

It was his tail, wrapping around your calf as he slept. You tried to move your leg, but his tail wrapped itself around it tighter, pulling your leg back down. You almost wanted to kick him in an attempt to break free, but decided you didn’t want to anger him by waking him up. So you laid there, until you got so tired you just fell asleep.

When Dabi woke up, you were still asleep. He was stuck between you and the wall, and since he was awake now, he didn’t feel like staying there.

“Wakey, wakey” he whispered into your ear, before pushing you out of the bed and down on the floor.

You yelped as you hit the floor.

“What the hell?” you grumbled as you sat up and looked at him over the edge of the bed.

“Oh good, you’re awake” Dabi smirked.

“You pushed me off the bed” you hissed.

“Way to state the obvious” he rolled his eyes.

“Asshole” you muttered as you got up from the floor.

You glanced at Dabi and noticed he looked a lot better. The dark circles under his eyes were gone and he didn’t seem as clammy or pale anymore.

“You look better” you noted, a bit weirded out by his sudden improvement in health.

“You really don’t know how dragons work at all, do you?” he grinned mischievously.

”I feel like you’re about to tell me” you sighed.

“We heal when we sleep, and the moss you used happens to work well on us too” Dabi said as he started ripping off the bandages and throwing them on the floor along with the moss.

He stood up and stretched a bit. Even his deepest wounds just looked like shallow cuts now.

Dabi could feel you looking him over, which made a very self assured smirk spread on his face.

“Like what you see?”

“Yeah, I did a really good job on the wound care it seems” you answered, ignoring his innuendo completely.

Dabi rolled his eyes, but he was still looking at you. There was just something about you that he couldn’t put his finger on. In that moment he decided he wanted you all for himself, he didn’t want to let you out of his sight or to let anyone else even look at you. From now on, you would be his.

“Come” he said as he marched past you and grabbed your wrist, dragging you outside.

“Where are you going and why are you dragging me with you?” you asked, trying to dig your heels into the ground to stop him from dragging you around.

“You’re coming with me” he stated sternly.

“Coming with you where?” you struggled against his tight grip.

“To my home, you’re going to be mine”

“Huh?!” you exclaimed. “No, no, no, no. You can’t just force me to come with you”

“I can and I will” he growled.

You finally managed to free yourself from his grip and you stumbled back, falling on your ass on the ground.

“I’m not going with you, this is my home and I’m staying here. You’re welcome to visit any time, but I’m not leaving my home” you argued.

“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. You’re coming with me” Dabi snarled.

“No, I’m not!” you yelled and started backing away while still on the ground.

Dabi loomed over you and pushed you to the ground, pinning your hands down above your head.

“I said: You’re coming with me”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. I don’t care if you’re a big, bad dragon, you can’t scare me into complying” you said tearfully.

Dabi wanted you with him, but what good would you be if you hated him for it? For reasons he didn’t understand, he didn’t want you to hate him. Normally he wouldn’t care, he would just take what he wanted from whomever he wanted, but this was different, you were different. You were the first human to ever show him kindness without any ulterior motives.

He sighed, and let go of your hands, moving off from on top of you.

“Fine. If you’re not coming with me, I’m staying here”

“What?” you blinked a couple of times in confusion.

“I said, I’m staying here” he said as he stood up and offered you his hand.

You were going to be living with a dragon. A dangerous, unpredictable, fierce, self centered, moron of a dragon. He might have been handsome, but he was a moron nevertheless.

“Fine” you said and grabbed his hand, letting him pull you up from the ground. You had no idea what to expect from the future, but it was certainly going to be an adventure.

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi #mha dabi #bnha dabi #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #mha fluff #bnha fluff #comfort #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au #dragon au

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officialgleamstar · 11 months

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okay so like --

(warning for discussions of suicidal ideation/self harm. not in any graphic amounts but mentioned frequently. under the cut because i talked way too long, Grant Wilson and Lark Oak-Garcia Give Me Feelings.)

tl;dr: lark and grant have matching semi-colon tattoos to honor each other. if you wanna hear All Of My Thoughts, journey on, but thats the gist of it gjhbfhjgbhjdf

i have said before that i do not think grant and lark would get along very well. i do stand by this. however i also think theyre both clingy motherfuckers, the kiddads are codependent and i believe this with all my heart, and so they are still friends even if they bicker like hell. i also think they both had a lot of mental health issues throughout high school and have some lopsided bond over being "the guys in the friend group to go to the psych ward" (all of the kiddads are like Bad Mentally but i just find that grant and lark are the most. uh. Clearly Suicidal so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ i like to project my high school mental health onto grant and lark is. lark.)

i think at first, theres a lot of friction between them about this since i do think darryl and henry would try to push them to like. Be Supportive And Helpful to one another about this shared issue. i could spiral into a whole other conversation about that, i have a jghfbghjbdhj far too elaborate internal world about high school kiddads but all we need to know here is That Does Not Work. grant and lark do NOT fix each other, they definitely make each other worse bhjbfhjgbhjfdbgjd like i said! i dont think they get along! i think grant would project his own issues onto lark, and i think lark would call him out on that, and they would argue about it. they do NOT talk about mental health with one another or in general

but as time goes on and they both start doing better (again, projecting my own mental health onto grant but in a positive way now - despite relapses, i do think hes in a much better state of mind once hes an adult, and i think the same of lark. theyre not GOOD but i do not see them as like, actively suicidal as adults. theyre managing! we love that for them!), probably around senior year of high school or a year after that, lark reaches out to try and make amends for their issues with one another in high school. they dont usually like, Hang Out Alone, ever, but lark convinces grant to come over while lark gives himself a stick and poke tattoo. awkwardly hanging out alone in lark's room and picking their way through conversation. normal 18- to 19-year-olds stuff

i dont know if theyre like... still a big thing, but i know when i was in high school, the semi-colon on the wrist was a big symbol for mental health and showing support for those struggling. and i just really like the thought of lark going "i was gonna give myself a semi-colon tattoo" "oh, because youre doing better?" "no, because youre doing better, grant. its dedicated to you" (all of lark's tattoos are dedicated to other people but that. again. a whole other conversation i could spiral into) and grant just gets. really choked up about it. and rather impulsively goes "can you give one to me as well? so i can honor you."

and so grant's only tattoo matches lark's, and its a semi-colon that they both have on their wrist. i think i put lark's on his right the few times i've drawn it, i think grant's would probably also be on his right wrist but that doesn't matter too much ghbfdhgbdfjh i just think theres something really beautiful about honoring the continued life and well-being of someone youve not always gotten along with, but who still means the world to you. grant and lark, i think, would have a deep understanding of each other in a lot of ways, and i just think about that A Lot(tm)

also i think its fun to imagine grant having a Gay Moment over lark having to be all up in his space while giving him a tattoo but this whole concept isnt really meant to be shippy so fgbfjdhjh thats more an idle background thought

#mine #dndads #SORRY for talking so long oh my god #i just think about them a lot

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authenticmiya · 2 years

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Close Enough To Hurt Me - Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary - Rafe has started an argument with the point blank reasoning being because of JJ Maybank. Who knew having shots with the guy, would end up being Rafe’s worse nightmare?

Words - 3k

Warnings - angst, arguing, mentions of a car-accident, name-calling, swearing, slight fluff

A/N - Enjoy this one! Here’s to my first Rafe imagine🍻

“You gonna just sit in the corner and not answer me?“ Rafe shouted at you. Your body was close to giving up - against the wall.

“What do you want me to say? That I’m okay with you flirting with other chicks whilst I’m less than two fucking centre meters away from you? Fuck Rafe, I’m your girlfriend, don’t I deserve some respect?” You shouted back, suddenly gaining a huge amount of confidence.

“Respect? You want some fucking respect? How about not downing shots with JJ Maybank whilst I’m less than two centre meters away from you?“ He mocked.

“JJ Maybank deserves nothing more than a friend, especially because of what his fucking father does to him. You don’t get to throw that in my face!” You shoved him away from you, only for him to grip hold of your wrists.

“Oh yeah, what about what my father does to me? Don’t you care about your own boyfriend?“ He questioned.

“So you want to throw that in my face? Rafe Cameron you’re the biggest asshole on this island. You wanna know why? Ward Cameron has used you since you were able to form English sentences. I have been there for you every single day and not only have I been the shoulder to cry on but I’ve been the classic fuck that you’ve taken you’re anger out on.” You were so tempted to smack him out but refused.

“Yeah actually Y/N, you’re right. You have been a classic fuck. A good one yet not up to my standards. Every girl on this side of the island wants my dick and you’re just the tragic whore got that got to it first.” He bellowed. Your jaw dropped in amazement that such horrific words could come out of your ‘precious’ Rafe’s mouth.

You remained silent. He was starstruck at his own words. Disbelief scurried around his mind whilst he tried to think of words that would accustom his apology. But no words could be found.

“If two years of committing to you was a whore move than I guess I better make myself known somewhere else.” You whispered. Tears were pooling your eyes and you didn’t know what else to do.

“Y/N…” Rafe began.

“No, you don’t get to fucking apologise. I defended you through everything and now I’m the whore?” You’re voice got louder as tears flooded your cheeks.

“You’ve made me feel like this weak, pathetic person who can’t live without you for months. You’re not my Rafey anymore.” You whimpered. You prayed to god that no-one in his household heard this argument.

Rafe could practically feel his heart beating out of his chest. He’d been the most horrible person to you within the past few months, yet you still took it. You were still there for him throughout his cocaine addiction, his alcoholic tendencies and his nasty words. Yet here you were, still believing he would change.

“I came to the party for you. You left me alone to go talk to a girl you told me you’d known since pre-school. But hey, I guess girls from pre-school need the up-most love right? They need the flirtatious comments? They need you grinding up against them? Fuck you Rafe! JJ wanted shots and I had shots with him. At least I wasn’t trying to fuck him along the way.” You screamed. At this rate, you didn’t care if the household was awake, you wanted to get your point across and that’s what you were gonna do.

“You gonna leave me then?” Rafe cheekily came out with.

“Yeah, actually I think it’s best for us.” Knowing you had a bag of clothes ready to pack, you pushed him out of the way and headed towards his bedroom. A small part of you had hoped he would follow, but he didn’t.

“Fuck.” You muttered, as tears still streamed down your face. You managed to pack up all of your clothes as well as a secretive hoodie that belonged to Rafe. Once you had gathered your things, you headed towards the front door. Once again, you were greeted with Rafe.

You said nothing as you gathered your keys from the little bowl on the table by the front door.

“It’s meant to storm tonight, you can’t leave.” Rafe mumbled.

“I’d rather die in that storm then the whole of outer banks thinking I’m Rafe Cameron’s whore.” You snapped, before rushing out of the front door. You practically ran to your Range Rover and it was like god wasn’t on your side because Rafe quickly followed you.

“I know you Y/N, you hate the thunder, even more so, you hate lighting. I’m not letting you drive in this.” He shouted as you’d locked yourself in your car. As much as you’d hate to admit it, he was right.

“Leave me the fuck alone Rafe.” You shouted back, the temptation of getting out of the car, leaving your mind. You quickly started the engine and before he could run behind the car to stop you from moving, you reversed. Boy could that kid run.

“You can’t fucking leave!” The whole of Outer Banks must have heard him with how loud his voice bellowed. Ignoring his desperate pleas, you left.

“SO, I WON’T, LET YOU, CLOSE ENOUGH TO HURT ME, NO I WON’T, RESCUE YOU, TO JUST DESERT ME, I CAN’T, GIVE YOU, THE HEART YOU THINK YOU GAVE ME, IT’S TIME TO SAY GOODBYE, TO TURNING TABLES!” Your AUX was on the loudest volume it could be to block out the sounds of the sudden thunder.

Rafe was stuck in the position outside of the house. The whole argument seeming to repeat in his head. You were the girlfriend any guy would die for, and just like a penny falling, he was quick enough to drop you like that. Why did he do it? The thoughts were overrunning his head.

You were to caring for your own good. Why were you doing shots with JJ Maybank? Because he needed an extra friend for support. Were you a whore? Of course you fucking weren’t. Your loyalties had been with Rafe since the beginning of time, yet there he was questioning it.

“Rafe, I think it’s best you come inside.” Rose appeared from behind him. He refused to let anyone other than you remotely see him tear up, so he quickly wiped away the multiple tears that had fallen from his eyes.

“Sarah just be nice-“ Ward was lecturing his daughter but when she saw her not so nice brother, she’d let loose.

“Because of you, one of my best friends is driving around in what’s about to be another big storm. In a car that she probably won’t be able to handle if she swerves or skids across the road.” She screamed at him.

“Easy-“ Sarah cut her father off once again.

“Stop being so nice to him about it! You always go on about how she’s like a daughter and because of him…” She pointed at Rafe.

“She could end up in a ditch tonight, I’m going to find her.” Sarah demanded and nobody could stop the girl, she’d had her keys ready and waiting in her back pocket, waiting to escape.

“Guys you may wanna come see this.” Wheezie announced. Curiously, everyone headed into the living room. There on the news was a Black Range Rover, completely submerged and flipped into the nature of trees. The car was a write off regardless.

“Don’t tell me that’s Y/N’s car.” Wheezie whispered. The front door slammed shut and everyone turned to notice Rafe had gone.

“Baby answer the phone.” Rafe cried out as he kept calling and calling. He could tell exactly where the location was, based off of the ten second video he just about managed to watch. 16 times your phone had gone straight to voicemail. He’d found himself sobbing behind the wheel, if he hadn’t of just stopped his possessive self from starting a fight, neither of you would’ve been in this predicament. What if you were gone forever? Not semi-permanently, but forever. Rafe couldn’t live without you.

Blue flashing lights and the sound of sirens snapped Rafe from his thoughts. He was at the scene of the accident. Caring less about the weather, he rushed out of his truck and ran towards the officers.

“Shoupe you gotta let me through.” Rafe was drenched by now, the weather was really picking up.

“Rafe you need to go home, there’s gonna be a traffic jam here for a while. The roads gonna be blocked until the morning.” Deputy Shoupe wasn’t getting it.

“My girl crashed her car and you’re telling me I need to go home? I, I, I need to see her. Tell me she’s not dead, shit man, she can’t be dead, I need her.” His hands frustratedly went to his head as sobs threatened to escape.

“Y/N never crashed her car Rafe, she was the one who called us.” Rafe’s aching heart was beating twice as fast.

“Wait what?” He began.

“Your girlfriend just saved the life of a young couple Rafe, you should be proud of her. She’s in the ambulance getting warmed up-“ Before the deputy could finish his sentence he was rushing over to the closest ambulance. Abruptly opening the door, the weight was lifted off his shoulders when he saw you wrapped in a blanket on the bed.

“Baby-“ Rafe whispered. Tears threatened to fall down your face. The paramedic moved away from you to let the both of you have a moment.

“I’m okay, I promise I’m okay.” You told him and that’s all it took for him to wrap his arms around you - neither of you caring about how soaked he was from the rain.

“But I thought it was your car, I thought you were dead Y/N.” His anxiety was still through the roof.

“I’m here Rafe. My car is fine, it was just a coincidence that the guys in the other car had the same one. The news and camera-crew were here just as quick as the cops. I had to help them, it made me think of if that was us, I’d wanted someone to have done the same.” You admitted, offering Rafe some of your blanket.

“I am so proud of you, so, so proud of you.” The words didnt fully matter to you, you did what you had to do and that was it. It didn’t distinguish the fact as to why you had been driving in the storm anyway.

“When can she come home? Is she allowed to leave?” Rafe asked the paramedic.

“Rafe, I’m not going home with you.” The words oh so bitterly broke his heart again. His face twisted into a confused expression.

“But, but, I need to keep you safe. I can’t let you be alone after what happened tonight. I thought I’d lost you.” Rafe worriedly told you.

“What I did was nothing, I did what any good person should do. What you did to me before I left, that wasn’t what a good person should do.” Your words sounded completely and utterly petty, but he really had hurt you.

“If I was in your shoes, yeah, I’d come running after to you, if I saw what looked like your truck smashed up on the news, but it still doesn’t excuse what fucked up shit you’ve said and done to me.” The paramedic exited the ambulance for a moment, knowing they shouldn’t be listening in.

“Y/N, you’re not any of those things I said. You’re too good for me, you’re too good for anyone. I have done nothing but be a shitty boyfriend for so long and yet there you were, sticking around hoping for a better change.” He began.

“And I never gave you that better change because all I could think about was myself and make dick decisions. You come to my family home, treat my ass of a dad like a king because you’re so respectful. You fix all my injuries to fights that sometimes I shouldn’t be getting in. You love me with all of your heart and I threw that in your face tonight.” The words he was saying, made tears pool in your eyes - looking up, it was the same case scenario for Rafe.

“I’m sorry for hurting you. I never want you to feel bad in any way. It was childish of me to do that and absolutely nasty for me to talk to you in that way. I never want you to feel scared of me or fearful of losing me. I did that to you tonight and I don’t expect you to forgive me. I just want you to know, I’m sorry.” Apologies we’re very rare from your boyfriend, in fact, sometimes you would forget that ‘I’m sorry’ was in even in his vocabulary.

“You’re more than everything I need, and all I’ve ever wanted.” He whispered to you.

“I’m not your whore though Rafe, every-time you’re annoyed at something, don’t treat me like a piece of dirt off of the floor. I can’t live like that, despite how much I fucking love you.” You admitted whilst anxiously twiddling your fingers.

“You never were and you aren’t. I said that in the heat of the moment and I shouldn’t have let my anger get the best of me. I really am sorry.” Tears were falling from his eyes.

“I know you are baby, I know.” You pulled him into your embrace and cuddled him tightly. After what you’d seen and dealt with tonight, you couldn’t give up on him - on the relationship.

“I love you Rafe, I’m not forgiving you easily because tonight hurt. However, no matter what you do in life, I’ll try my best to support you. It has to be a two way street between us. No more drugs, well at least cocaine, especially if you’re coming back to a bed you share with me.” You told him and he squeezed you tighter.

“I promise I will work on myself not just for me, but for us. You’re my everything.” He pressed a kiss to your lips but was then interrupted by the ambulance door opening.

“Um, sorry to break it up between you two youngsters but you might wanna head your asses home before the storm gets worse. Also don’t wanna have to arrest you for doing the dirty in this vehicle.” Deputy Shoupe interrupted making the two of you giggle.

“What do you say baby? My house?” You questioned.

“I’ll go wherever you go.”

#Rafe Cameron #Rafe Cameron x reader #Rafe Cameron imagine #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #JJ Maybank

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corriganatheart · 2 years

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A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder Sal Singh x reader

Description: You saved Sal from his own murder.

Warning ⚠️ : Spoilers to A Good Girl’s Guide to Murder

You didn’t know Sal Singh, and he didn’t know you. You were two strangers that happened to go to the same school and be in the same grade. You guys never cross paths except making casual eye contact during passing periods, lunch, study hall, gym class, and volleyball games, but never anywhere else.

It was honestly weird that you never interacted with him, seeing how he was one of the most popular and liked boys in school. Even your friends have talked to him and are friends with his friends but not you. Sometimes you wonder why everyone liked him, especially since his girlfriend is the most hated person in the school. Maybe that was why you never spoke to him because Andie Bell is his girlfriend.

You had nothing against her, but you knew she was trouble. She leaked Nat da Silva’s nudes, bullied her sister, and if you weren’t wrong, from what you've seen, she is a cheater. That made you feel bad for Sal and anyone involved in her life.

2 Days before the murder.

Y/N pov

“So, are you going to Max’s party?” Elisha asked as she tossed the ball.

“Nah, staying home,” I shrugged and tossed the ball back to her.

Elisha frowns and gives the ball to the manager.

"Come on; you've never been to one of his parties," she whines.

“Smoking weed and binge drinking isn’t my thing,” I said. “Besides, I get bad vibes from him.”

Elisha rolled her eyes at me and went to ask the other girls.

I chuckled and looked over at our student section; many people were there. Mainly the boys are here to support their girlfriends. I continued to scan the benches until my eyes landed on a familiar pair of brown eyes. It was Sals. He was here with Max Hastings and Naomi Ward, but no Andie Bell in sight. Sal must have noticed me staring at him and his friends, so he smiled, causing me to look away immediately.

1 Day before the murder.

Today was weird. It has only been the 4th period, and I have already seen enough.

It was during lunchtime when everyone was eating in the cafeteria. I stayed behind in the study hall to finish a project when I decided to get a snack from the vending machine. The vending machine happens to be right across from Mr. Ward’s classroom. So imagine my surprised face when I was trying to buy a bag of Cheetos but overheard Mr. Ward and a student talking inappropriately. At first, I thought my ear was playing tricks on me because ain’t no way Mr. Ward was like that, so I assumed it was an affair with another teacher until I saw the person walking past me. It was Andie Bell.

After that, I couldn’t focus for the rest of the day. My mind was filled with so many questions. I often overheard from Andie’s friends that she was seeing an older man behind Sal’s back, but I didn’t think he was this old and someone close to me.

I walked out of history class confused and disgusted. I hope Naomi never finds out about this. I can already tell she dislikes Andie; imagine when she finds out about the inappropriate relationship between her dad and her best friend's girlfriend, she would be embarrassed.

I was making my way to my locker when I spotted Elisha and Max Hasting flirting in front of it. Great, now I have to deal with Hasting too? Can this day get any better?

“Y/N, Max and I were just talking about you!” Elisha says when she spots me coming towards them.

“And I was just talking to myself about how he is spreading STDs on my locker!” I exclaimed.

Elisha rolls her eyes playfully, and he smirks at me. How gross.

“Max was saying you should come to his party tomorrow!” She says while eyeing Max for his attention.

“Ahum, I rather not,” I said and started putting my books back into my locker.

“Why not?” Max asked. “Give it a try,” he said and nudged my arm playfully.

I shook my head and looked behind him to see Sal and Mr. Ward talking outside his classroom.

“Hey, does Mr. Ward tutor Sal?” I asked.

Max follows my eyes and turns around to see what I am looking at before looking back at me.

“Yeah, he’s helping him get into Yale; why?” Max asked.

“Does he only do it for him?” I asked, wondering if he was helping Andie too.

“Probably, he’ll help you if you ask him… kindly,” Max said, a little too flirty with the last word.

“Oh Nah, I don’t plan on going to Yale,” I said and was about to drag Elisha away from him until Max called Sal over.

Sal looked our way and immediately had a confused look on his face wondering why I was talking to Max. Everyone knew I never showed interest in anything Max had to say.

Sal says bye to Mr. Ward, and I watch as Ward sighs, more like a relief sigh, before walking back into his classroom.

“Hey,” Sal says when he reaches us. I awkwardly stood there, fidgeting with the string of my backpack.

“Elisha, let’s go,” I immediately said, trying to avoid being seen by Andie.

Sal and Max stare at me, and I glance at Max, who is smirking.

“Leaving too soon? Aren’t you going to ask Sal about his conversation with Mr. Ward?” Max asked.

I want to slap that smirk off of his face. Something about his face shouts annoying and disgusting.

“You were asking about me?” Sal asked, his voice noticeably surprised that I mentioned him.

“Ahum, I was just asking if Mr. Ward tutors you, that’s all,” I said and grabbed Elisha’s hand, who was refusing to go with me.

“Oh yeah, he does; he’s great at it,” Sal says with an innocent smile.

I nodded without saying a word and pulled Elisha with me.

“Gotta go,” I blurted out before anyone could further the conversation and rushed off.

“I’ll see you at the party tomorrow Max!” Elisha shouts back.

“Are you going alone?” I asked Elisha.

“Yeah, since someone decided not to go with me,” Elisha whines.

She then looks at me and gives me the puppy doll's eyes.

If only I knew going there was going to change my life forever.

The Day of Andie Bell’s murder

“Omg, Y/N! You look hot!” Elisha says as soon as she sees me walk out. I chuckle, trying not to be embarrassed that Elisha’s dress was too short for me. It was also tight, but she said that was the point of the dress; to make my curves stand out.

“You promise you won’t drink a lot, right? And we need to leave by 12:00,” I warned Elisha.

She nodded and saluted me before she started checking the inside of her purse. “Oh crap, I forgot my lipstick!” Elisha shouted before holding out one finger and rushing inside her house.

I checked myself on my snap and started recording my outfit before turning the camera so that everyone could see the moonlight; it was a full moon today.

I re-watched my snap and saved it before noticing someone else in the frame. Andie?

I saw her blonde locks bouncing on her shoulder as she walked on another side of the street and typed aggressively on her phone. Is she also going to the party, but why would she walk?

I then realized what neighborhood I was in. Naomi lives in this neighborhood, meaning Mr.Ward is also around here. Don’t tell me Andie is meeting him right now; that is gross and creepy.

I contemplated following her to see if she was going there, but I also had another person to take care of tonight.

“Okay, we got to go,” Elisha says excitedly, and we get into her mom’s car.

As we were driving down the street, I grabbed my phone and secretly recorded Andie, just in case she decided to pull another trick and leak somebody’s private info.

“What are you doing?” Elisha asked, wondering why I had my phone brightness on low and recording the window.

“Just recording the moon, eyes on the road!” I said.

8 minutes later.

We reached the party, but it was a little too crowded for me. A couple of the cheerleaders and football players were there, and a couple of people I recognized from school were there. Most of the girls had a drink in their hands, but it was weird that the guys didn’t because, usually, it was the opposite.

I looked at one of the guys I recognized as Jaime; I did not expect him to be there since he was always quiet. He must have noticed me staring because his face turned red, and he immediately got occupied with his phone. I chuckle, seeing how shy he is.

“Hey, you both came!!” Max shouted when we walked into the house. I almost gagged when I smelled a mixture of alcohol and weed. Gosh, how does Max get away with this?

“Wow, Max said as he was looking at me.” I glared at him and tugged at my dress to pull it down.

“You girls dressed up just for me,” he said excitedly. “You both deserve a drink.”

Elisha giggles and drags me along to follow Max into his kitchen.

Max started mixing two cups, and I looked around the kitchen. It was a pretty decent place, not big but not small either. It was also hard not to look at the couple making out on the counter since they hardly talked in class. I guess alcohol can do things to people.

“Here, one for you and one for you,” Max said, handing us our drink.

I watch as Max smirks when he stares at our cups, and I immediately nudge Elisha, enough to the point where she loses balance and her drink tips over.

“What the heck Y/N,” Elisha whines like the baby.

“Ops, I’m so clumsy,” I chuckled and decided to pour my drink down the drain. “Since you spilled your drink, it’s only fair for me not to drink,” I said.

“Nonsense, let me make you girls another drink,” Max suggested, and while he was preoccupied with that, I dragged Elisha away from him.

“What was that for?” Elisha asked angrily.

“I think Max was trying to drug us,” I whispered.

Elisha rolls her eyes. “You read too many murder novels; he’s a good guy.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I whispered. “The look in his eyes when he handed us those drinks,” I said.

Elisha refuses to believe me. “I am going to find Max and apologize to him that my best friend is a dumbass,” she says and walks away.

I hate when she does this.

I needed some fresh air, so I walked into Max's backyard, filled with two people smoking and two couples making out in the corner. I pulled out my phone and checked the time; we still had about an hour till we got to go back home, making things worse. I went and sat down on the bench that was a little away from everyone under a big oak tree. Surprisingly no one was occupying the bench; instead, they were standing around. Probably too drunk or high to notice it.

“I am not doing this with you anymore, Andie,” I heard someone say behind me, and I knew precisely to who the voice belonged.

It sounded like he was talking behind the trees.

“No, I can’t stand the drama. We have been over for almost a month, and I hate that you still tell people we are together.”

I can feel the frustration coming out of him. It was honestly a little sad how frustrated and angry he sounded. Imagine when he finds out that she is at Mr. Ward’s house. Hopefully, soon so that he won’t have to be caught up in her lies anymore.

“I am hanging up; I am not doing this with you right now.” He said, and I heard the beep sound followed by an exhale.

I bite my lips nervously, feeling like I had just invaded his personal life. It wasn’t like it was my fault that he was talking at the spot where I happened to be. If anything, it was his fault for talking outside where there were people.

I heard his foot moving; the dry autumn leaves making crunchy noise with every step he took. I heard it stop as it was coming near me and felt a presence behind me. It wasn’t a scary presence, though. He probably won’t know it was me; he was probably annoyed that someone had heard his conversation. Most likely, he will glare at me and walk away. He might also think I am a weirdo for listening to something priv-

“Y/N?” I heard the soft, yet deep voice says.

I- ok, I guess he did recognize me?

I turned and acted surprised to see him.

“Oh, hi, Sal,” I said awkwardly.

Sal stares at me, and he looks at my outfit.

“Can I sit?” He asked, looking down at the empty spot next to me.

I nodded, and Sal sat down, taking off his leather jacket and revealing the long black sleeve he wore.

He then placed the leather jacket on my lap, covering my legs.

“You looked cold,” he said. I nodded, realizing he wasn’t staring at my body but was staring at how I was shivering.

Sal started fidgeting with his hands, and I realized he was anxious, probably wondering if I had overheard his conversation with Andie.

“I won’t tell anyone,” I said while staring ahead. It was now only me, Sal, and a guy who was too high even to know he was in someone’s backyard.

“It’s not about that; I just don’t want you to think bad of me,” he says while playing with his hands.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that; I already know how Andie is,” I said and checked to see if I had gotten any message from Elisha yet.

“Still..” he sighs and leans back on the bench.

He felt terrible for Andie and their break up. I am not a therapist or someone who knows everything about a relationship, but it is obvious that Sal wasn’t happy. The constant sighs when he sees Andie being rude to others, the continual argument when she sees him talk to his female friends, and the continuous turning away when he sees Andie walking towards him are clear signs that he is in a toxic relationship.

“Sal, I don’t think anyone would judge you if you break up with Andie,” I said, trying not to overstep my line. “I don’t know her personally, but from what I have seen, I am not a massive fan of her. She bullies others for pleasure; I mean, look what she did to poor Nat.” I said, clearly still angry about the situation.

“I don’t even know if I can call what we had a relationship because all we did was argue,” he chuckles and shakes his head while looking down at the ground.

I smiled and then reached for my phone; the time was up.

“Hey, I have to go check on my friend. We are supposed to leave,” I said while standing up and handing Sal his jacket back.

Sal stood up with me, and I now noticed our height difference. We were never this close. Never close enough to know how much taller he was, but today, we were close enough for me to realize that he was tall and for once I'll admit that Andie Bell had a taste when it comes to guys.

“I’ll walk you inside,” he said, looking slightly worried. I was sure he seemed hesitant about me walking around in my dress. Maybe he noticed those guys with us in the backyard; perhaps he saw their eyes lingering too long.

“Okay,” I said and was going to hand him his jacket, but he grabbed it out of my hand and put it on my shoulder.

We walked back into the house quietly; some people had already left, but most were still on the couch taking shots and smoking weed. I noticed Sal’s nose shifted slightly in disgust when he smelled the room. That was probably why he decided to stay outside.

“Have you seen Elisha?” I asked a girl I recognize from my Biology class. She looked between Sal and me, and I knew she would spread some rumor.

“I saw her a couple of seconds ago going upstairs with Max,” she said and started to drink from her cup before I snatched it out of her and threw it on the floor.

“What the fuc-“ she didn’t get to finish because I interrupted her.

“It’s drugged; I suggest you go home,” I told her and started running upstairs, followed by Sal.

“His room is over here,” Sal said and tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Max open the door right now!”

Sal banged on the door angrily before he lost patience and kicked open the door instead.

Max was on his knees while Elisha was on the bed; passed out. I ran over to Elisha, whereas Sal dragged Max by the collar. “Are you fucken kidding me, Max!”

I hurriedly pull Elisha’s underwear back on, trying to fight back the tears. I then checked on her pulse and let out a sigh of relief. She was ok; she didn’t overdose or anything. She also wasn’t bleeding, so I wasn’t too late, but still, I need to make sure she gets checked tomorrow…just in case.

“Get off of me Sal!” Max yelled while Sal continued to punch him. I gasped when I saw Max’s bruised face. “What the fuck were you thinking!”Sal yelled and was about to throw another punch when I called his name. Sal paused and turned to look at me; he then looked at Elisha before giving Max another decent punch.

“Please, Sal, I need your help,” I mumbled, trying my best not to look at the blood coming from Max’s mouth. Sal’s face seemed to calm down when he saw how frightened I was. He walked over to me, and I looked at his bruised hands. He then hugged me and laid his head on top of mine. “I am sorry for scaring you,” he said. We stayed like that for a couple of seconds before I whispered, “Elisha.”

Sal let go of me and went over to pick up Elisha in bridle style; she shifted a little causing me to be more relieved. I give Max the dirtiest look, warning him that I wasn’t finished with him yet.

After locating Elisha’s car key, Sal placed her in the back seat and covered her bottom up with the spare blanket in her car. He then got in the passenger seat while I prepared to drive. “I am calling the cops,” Sal says as he looks up at the window to Max’s room.

We drove to my place since it was closer, and I didn’t want Elisha’s parents to be mad at her. My parents were also away for the weekend coincidentally and won’t be back till tomorrow, so we got lucky.

“Thank you, Sal,” I said as I gripped the steering wheel.

Sal watched my hand and then looked back at Elisha. “I apologize; I must have wasted your time outside,” he said, guilt written on his face. “No, it’s my fault; I should’ve stayed by her side.”

“Max,” he exhaustedly sighs and put his hands on his face. “I thought he was my friend; I wouldn’t have hung with him if I knew; I promise I am not like that, Y/N. I didn’t know he would do such a disgusting thing. I can never forgive him for this.” He says angrily.

It is obvious that Sal didn’t know anything about this, and he thought I was secretly judging him since he had been friends with Max for a while. It also surprises me how much he cares about my opinions about him. “It is not your fault Sal.” I said.

5 minutes later.

We reached my house, and it was almost 1 in the morning. We didn’t reach the curfew as planned, but Max’s beat-up face was enough. Sal called the cops on our way back to my house, and several cops passed by us. Although they might put Max in jail for drinking, I knew we needed solid evidence that he would assault girls. That will have to wait till Elisha gets up.

Sal placed Elisha on the bed and I covered her with my blanket. She was safe now… I exhaled, finally relieved that we had made it back safely to my room.

“Thank you Sal.” I said, and he nodded.

Sal then awkwardly looks around my room and stares at the numerous books on my shelves and the posters on the wall. I saw a slight smile when his eyes fell on the Attack on Titan poster. “You must love reading,” Sal says.

“I do it in my free time.”

He nodded and followed me out of my room. I turn off the light and close the door. Sal pulled out his phone and caught a glimpse of the numerous text and missed calls from Andie. I saw the 1 hour ago near the message before he turned off his phone and sighed. He looked frustrated again.

“Someone told Andie that I got in the car with you,” he said and started walking down the stairs. I followed him.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically. It was already hard that she stopped him from breaking things off, but now I added fuel to the fire.

“Don’t be… maybe now she’ll get the hint on why I don’t like her,” he chuckles.

I nodded and followed him outside. “I would offer to take you home, but Elisha is alone.”

“Nah, my home is a couple of blocks away,” he shrugs.

“Oh really?” I acted surprised. I didn't want him to know I had seen him outside mowing the lawn with his brother on my way back from the grocery store.

“Yeah, thanks for listening to my pep talk today,” he said and scratched the nonexisting inch on the back of his neck. “No, thank you, Sal, for helping me.”

“If you need anything tomorrow with Elisha, holler at me. I live just a few blocks down,” he said and pointed down the street.

I nodded, and he smiled at me before awkwardly waving goodbye, and I watched him jog down the street.

The Day of the Interrogating

It was all over social media. Andrea Bell was missing. There was numerous post from her friends about how sad they were and what they were doing to look for her. There were also posts about theories on her missing. Some say she ran away for attention; some say she ran away with a guy; some say she was playing a prank, and worst, some say she was murdered. According to social media, police were interviewing people who might have seen her last night, but there was still no luck finding her.

“It was that son of a bitch, Max Hasting!” Elisha frustratedly yelled as she threw her pillow across the room. I glared at her and shook my head.

“Andie wasn’t there yesterday, and Sal called the cops when we were heading back, so if she were there, the cops would’ve seen her.”

Elisha bit her lips and tried not to throw another object across her messing room. This morning, when she woke up, she was confused. When she asked me why she was in my room, I told her everything that happened last night, causing her to ball her eyes out and cuss at herself. We then went to the emergency room, where she got checked, and luckily, the nurse said she has OK and nothing had happened to her last night. The nurse then suggested we go to the cops, and we did, but now they were too busy with Andie Bell to deal with Max Hasting.

“Elisha, should we go talk to Sal?” I asked.

“Why, do you think he has something to do with this?” she asked.

Immediately, I shook my head, knowing damn well Sal was not why Andie was missing.

“It's because they usually suspect the significant others first,” I said worriedly.

“Oh, your right!” Elisha says and jumps off her bed. “Come, we need to go and stand up for him!”

I nodded and watched as Elisha put on some lipstick and fixed her outfit before spraying herself with perfume.

“What?” She asked when she caught me staring at her in disbelief.

I shook my head and dragged her out of her room.

10 minutes later

We reached Sal’s house, and there were already three police cars. Damn, they beat me to it.

I knocked on their door, and a couple of seconds later, it swung open. There stood a boy who looked like Sal but was a little shorter than him. This must be Sal’s little brother, whom I saw a couple of years ago; he was all grown now.

“Can I help you?” He asked.

“Is Sal home?” I asked.

The boy just stared at me and nodded.

“He’s talking to the police right now,” the boy says and looks between Elisha and me.

“Oh, do you know when they’ll be done?” I asked.

The boy shrugged but opened the door for us and gestured for us to come in. “You guys can wait for him in the living room, but my parents are here too.”

Elisha and I awkwardly walked into the living room to see two worried adults sitting anxiously on the couch. When they noticed us, they were confused but stood up to shake our hands anyways.

“We are a friend of Sal,” I said. “My name is Y/N, and this is Elisha.”

They introduced themselves as Mohan and Nisha and asked us to sit down. I watched as Sal’s brother went to sit down next to his mom and held her shaking hand.

“Sal didn't do it,” I blurted out, and they all looked over at me. I gulped and tried my best not to make things awkward.

“He was with me last night.” Ok, that came out weird.

“I meant we saw each other at Max’s Hasting’s party, and he helped me get Elisha to my house, and then I watched Sal run home,” I said and watched as Nisha's muscles relaxed.

“I know our son didn't do it, but I doubt the cops believe that,” Mohan sighed. “It makes things worse that we are foreigners.”

I nodded, knowing where they were coming from. It was more convenient for people to blame darker skin tones than lighter ones.

“I can tell the cops,” I said. “I promise I'll have Sal’s back.”

Twenty minutes later, Sal and the cops finally came out of his room. Sal was surprised to see Elisha and me sitting in his living room. Whereas the cops were glaring at us.

“Sal was with Elisha and me last night, the time you guys wrote that Andie might have been kidnapped or murdered,” I said, glancing over at Sal at the mention of murder. It was obvious that it still affected him, although they weren’t dating anymore.

“His phone shows that he was on the phone with Andie last night, and she was calling and texting him several times.” The cop says, not precisely buying my story.

“I heard them talking on the phone at Max's house, but that was not even 12. Since you looked at his phone history, you would know. And she texted him and called him one hour before he left my house, so it must be during that time when he was at my home that something happened to her.” I said. Sal seemed to be glad that I was backing him up, but still, he didn’t want me to get involved.

“And how should we know that you’re not lying?” The cops continues to push.

“Because I have prove.” I smirked and pulled out my phone. I showed them the camera footage of Sal leaving my house around 1:45, and he was running down the opposite of Andie Bell’s street.

The cops noted that, and I bit my lips, wondering if I should tell them about another thing.

“For now, you’re off the hook,” the cops glared at me before he nodded his head at Sal and walked out.

What exactly is the cops problem?

“Thank you, Y/N,” Sal said, and I sat back down and made some space for him to sit.

“Well. What I said was all true,” I shrugged.

Mr. and Mrs. Singh smiled at me, and I watched as Sal’s brother’s eyes flickered between Sal and me.

“So…” the brother smirked. “What is going on between you two?” he asked, making sure to point precisely at Sal and me and not Elisha and Sal.

“What are you talking about?” Sal asked.

“Hmm, she said you were at her house past midnight, bro,”

“It was to help my drunk ass, sorry!” Elisha blurted out.

I looked over at her, relieved that she was kind of being honest and saving my butt.

“Have you tried calling Andie again?” Nisha asked Sal. He checked his phone and shook his head. “I tried several times, but she won’t answer.”

I can tell that he is blaming himself for this. In his mind, if he didn't miss Andie’s calls, they wouldn't be in this position.

“I’m sure they’ll find her,” I said and put a hand on his shoulder.

I felt Sal’s shoulder tense up from the unannounced contact, so I immediately pulled my hands away.

“I-I should get going,” I awkwardly said and stood up with Elisha.

“I'll walk you guys out,” Sal said. “And I’ll watch you guys out,” his brother smirked.

Sal glared at his brother before smiling at Elisha and me and following us to the door.

“I thank you for backing me up,” Sal said when we reached the door. “I'll see you at school.” He smiled.

“Okay,” I nodded, and we walked out of his house.

“Damn,” Elisha sighed.

“What?” I asked.

“I thought I had a chance but never mind,” she complains.

“What do you mean?”

“He likes you.”

The Day Sal’s Murder

It was all everyone could talk about. Where is Andie Bell? Is she dead? Did she get kidnapped? No one knew. The teachers tried to get everyone to act normal and pretend that their classmate wasn’t missing, but it was hard; this was high school.

I tried my best not to stare at him, but with everything going on, I couldn’t help it. Mr. Ward was acting weird. To the rest of the students, it may look like he was worried that a student was missing, but to me, it looked like he was scared instead of worrying. But what exactly was he scared of?

I looked back at Mr. Ward when everyone was rushing out of his class; he pulled out a drink he had never drunk in the classroom. I then walked out and scanned the hallways to see if Elisha or Sal was nearby, but they weren’t in sight; it also sucks that I didn’t have Sal’s number.

1 hour before Sal’s Murder

“Have you heard?” Elisha asked as she opened a bag of potato chips.

“Heard what?” I asked.

She leans in and whispers. “Everyone thinks it is Sal.”

I looked at her, confused. “Why would they think that?”

“Because his friends told the cops that he told them to lie about their alibis,” she said.

I stared at her. Why would they do that? Sal wasn’t even with Max at the party, and Naomi was nowhere in sight.

“That’s weird.” I said.

“I know. The cops suck ass.” She shrugged.

“Have you seen Sal?” I ask. She shook her head but paused, and her eyes widened. “Oh yeah, he and Mr. Ward was heading outside before I came to the cafeteria.”

“They what?” I asked nervously.

“I don’t know,” Elisha shrugged.

“We have to follow them,” I said and immediately gathered my stuff.

“What, that’s ditching, and you never do that,” Elisha gasped.

I glared at her before dragging her with me, causing her to drop her sandwich.

“I didn't want to tell you this because I didn’t think it was my business,” I said as we rushed into my car.

I shoved my phone to Elisha, and she looked down at it.

“Is that Andie?” Elisha asked.

“Yea, I saw her the night of the party. She was walking past your house angrily, and I saw her walking in Mr. Ward’s house while we drove past.”

“I thought she and Naomi hated each other,” Elisha says.

“No idiot, she was there to see Mr. Ward because they are having an affair!” I yelled at her.

Elisha gasped. “Oh my gosh, do you think?” I nodded, knowing exactly what she was going to ask.

“Something tells me he is going to do the exact thing to Sal,” I said.

“Hurry, we have to save him!”

Elisha and I drove as fast as we could, looking for Mr. Ward’s car. We went past his house, but his car wasn't there; we drove past Sal’s house, but his car wasn't there either.

“Now, what would be a perfect place to murder someone?” Elisha asked, and I shuddered at her question.

“Omg, the forest,” I gasp and hit the pedal.

Elisha called the cops as I sped through many stop signs and lights. Thank goodness there weren’t many people on the road since everyone was either at school or work.

“Ok, the cops will meet us here.” Elisha said when we reach the forest.

“Ok, let's go,” I said and got out my baseball bat while Elisha took out her pepper spray.

We jogged in the forest, where Mr. Ward’s car was parked near. “I hope we are not too late,” Elisha says.

I nodded and continued to run. All you can hear is our breathing and the sticks we stepped on.

We were nearly out of breath when we spotted two figures. Mr. Ward sat on the ground while Sal was on the floor with a bag on his head.

“What the fuck!” Elisha yelled, and we ran to them.

Mr. Ward immediately stood up and let go of Sal’s hand.

“What are you girls doing here?” Mr. Ward asked and looked back down at Sal.

“He was trying to suffocate him,” I growled and ran to Sal to untie the bag.

“It is not what you think, please,” Mr. Ward says.

“Oh, we know exactly what we saw!” Elisha screamed at him. “You’re a disgusting pig!”

“Sal!” I scream when I feel no pulse. I started doing chest compression on him, trying not to break down.

“Why would you even think of this?!” Elisha continues to scream at him.

“I had no choice; the cops would have arrested me.” Elliot Ward cried.

“Where is Andie?” Elisha asked.

Ward didn't answer.

I continued to do CPR on Sal, and just when I thought he didn’t make it, a loud gasp came out of him.

“Sal!” I cried and pulled him into a hug.

I heard two legs start running, which I knew belonged to Elliot Ward. “Shit,” Elisha murmured before she ran after him. It wasn’t long until I heard a group of people yells, “Stand down!”

“You’re okay,” I said and wiped my tears while looking at Sal’s expression. It was a mixture of shock and scared. He was still gripping my shirt as I moved his hair out of his face.

“Y/N, I-“ he paused. There it was; I pulled him into a hug as I felt him welp. He shook badly, holding on to me tightly like I would disappear if he let go. “You're ok now,” I continue to reassure him.

A couple of minutes later, the cops and the EMS workers came to us. The cops looked at the plastic bag on the ground and the drink that Elliot Ward previously took out in class. He then looked at Sal’s shaken form.

“Sal, you need to go to the hospital, and one of the cops will go with you,” the officer said.

I looked up at the officer, and it was the exact one interviewing Sal. Maybe now he’ll believe us.

“Y/N, I need to take you to the station and interview you,” he says.

I nodded, and we stood up.

Sal looked down at me and wiped the remaining tears from my eyes, and I did the same with his.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

35 minutes later

The cops stare at me as I explain what I saw and show them the video of Andie walking into Mr. Ward’s house.

“You didn't think to show me this the other day?” he asked.

“I wanted to see if Andie was going to show up the next day because it is obvious that you guys thought it was Sal,” I shrugged.

The officer glared at me and emailed the videos to the police station.

“Elliot Ward said he didn't kill Andie but did admit to the affair.”

I was taken aback by that comment. Did they still think it was Sal?

“Isn't it obvious that he did something to Andie and was trying to pin it on Sal?” I asked.

“That is what we are going with, but he keeps denying where she is,” the officer said and shook his head.

“He’ll probably come around,” I said...questioning my own words.

After the cops interviewed me, they told me Sal was no longer a suspect, which was a massive relief because I would be on the suspect list if they kept suspecting him.

Elisha was sitting in the waiting lounge with her parents and my parents. They all ran to me when I walked out.

“Are you ok?” My mom asked as she scanned my hands for any injuries. “I’m fine, mom,” I hugged them all.

“Ugh, I can’t believe these assholes want to interview me too,” Elisha whines when one of the officer motion her to follow him.

I gave her an apologetic look, but she was obviously happy to help.

5 weeks later

“I didn’t kill Andrea Bell.”

I replayed the line again. “I didn’t kill Andrea Bell.”

I kept replaying his words, but It still didn’t change my mind. Of course, everyone else believed he was lying, but why didn’t I?

It has officially been five weeks since Andie has been missing. Everyone was shocked when Stanley Forbes and the Fairview Police announced that Elliot Ward, the history teacher, was the cause of Andie’s death. Every little detail, including their affair, was released. The hate train went from Sal to Elliot Ward real quick. College applications, including Yale, were quickly sent to me, Sal, and Elisha. Elisha was incredibly stunned since her GPA was low, but she was happy to be given the opportunity.

Although everyone has decided that Elliot is the murderer and has hidden her body, something didn’t sit right with me. He admitted to everything, including his plan to kill Sal, but why would he deny murdering Andie, especially since that was the reason why they gave him a harsh sentence? The judge was going to make his sentencing lighter if he admitted to it, but he still denied it. Something tells me he isn’t lying, although it bothers me that I am torturing myself with that thought.

“Y/N! Sal is here!” I heard my mom call from downstairs.

I flip my laptop and put on my sneakers. I then turned to look at myself in the mirror. I was wearing a two-piece black dress with the black leather jacket that Sal let me borrow the night of Max’s party. It fitted me like a short dress, and I have kept it since.

“Ahum isn’t that a little too short,” my dad asked when I walked down the stairs.

“Oh, come on, you know Sal isn’t like that,” my mom playfully hits my dad’s arm, and he chuckles.

“Be back no later than 11,” my mom says, kissing me on the cheeks. I gave them both a hug and walked out of the house.

Sal was waiting for me outside with a bouquet of red roses.

“Wow,” was all he said, and I chuckled.

He then gives me the flowers before kissing my forehead.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, knowing damn well my parents are eavesdropping on us.

“Thank you,” I said, and he intertwined our fingers before guiding me to his car.

The winter weather hit me when I felt the cold breeze touch my face and legs. Winter was coming fast, and time was moving extremely fast. I will graduate with my best friends soon and move to New Haven with them. Elisha is going there to study literature while Sal is going there for medical school, and I am going there for their law school. Everything will work out, and we will move past this.

“How did the interview with Yale go?” Sal asked while squeezing my hand. “I got in,” I smiled. I felt his hand relax against mine. He would’ve terminated his application if I didn’t get in with him.

“I am going to have a lawyer as my girlfriend,” he said and kissed the palm of my hands. I chuckled and looked at his neck. The scar was slowly fading away. My eyes went up a little higher, and I examined his features. He was more handsome than yesterday, but I wouldn’t tell him that. I don’t want him teasing me about it all night.

Sal stopped at a red light, and I looked out the window. We were close to Andie Bell’s and Elliot Ward’s neighborhoods. I bite my lower lips nervously and see two girls walking down the sidewalk. I recognized one of them: Naomi’s little sister, Cara Ward. She seemed ok, but she didn’t look happy either. I can’t imagine how she and Naomi felt when they were told their dad was a murderer. The whole school also treated them differently. Naomi didn’t go to school for a couple of weeks, and I heard from people that Cara was getting bullied. I don’t really know if Naomi is still friends with Sal. He mentioned that she apologized to him on behalf of her dad, and of course, he didn’t blame her, but Naomi still felt terrible. Also, after lying about her alibi, I doubt Sal wants anything to do with her, Max, Jake, and Millie.

We drove past the two girls, and I saw Cara’s friend. She looked around Cara’s age with brown hair, pale white skin, and muddy-green eyes. The girl must have noticed me too because when I looked in my side mirror, the mysterious girl was staring back at her.

We reached the restaurant, and Sal told me to stay put so he could rush over to my side to open the door for me. He was obsessed with that gesture.

“How is Ravi’s freshman year going?” I asked when we sat down.

“Oh, it’s going; he intends to slack off a little,” Sal shrugged.

“How does he feel about you moving away for college?” I asked.

“Begged me to take him,” Sal laughed. “I told him to finish high school with a good GPA first.”

“What is he wanting to do?” I question.

“Become a lawyer,” Sal said and nodded. “He said you are the reason why.”

I laughed at that. “No, he did not!”

As much as I find that comment amusing, Sal’s face didn't look amused. He was staring at me with deep eyes while rubbing my palm. Oh. I now remember five weeks ago when I rushed to see Sal in the hospital. The nurse told him that he would've died if I didn't arrive on time. I remembered Sal’s parents sobbing and thanking me for saving their son’s life. Ravi was on the other side, holding his brother’s hand. He stared at me with a thankful note written all over his face. Without a second thought, he blurted out, “I want to be you when I grow up.”

“I guess I am the reason why,” I muttered and smiled at Sal.

The waiter comes back with our drinks, and Sal starts placing our orders. I looked out the window and saw someone walking down the streets. I recognize the girl. It was Becca Bell. I examined her face; she looked healthy, normal, more normal than Cara and Naomi. Then I remembered what the police said; Becca Bell was the last to see Andie. Last to see Andie.

5 Years Later

I groaned when I heard the doorbell ringed. I checked the time, and it was 9:30 in the morning. Who in their right mind comes ringing someone’s doorbell this early on a Saturday morning? I looked over to my side; Sal was still dead asleep. He was probably tired from his 16 hours shift last night.

I put on one of Sal’s shirts, which fits me like a dress, and started walking down the stairs. I was still getting used to the new house. It was big, too big for two people, but Sal wanted a huge family, and with him being a doctor and me being a lawyer, we could afford it. Besides, the real estate was also Elisha’s dad. He was very persuasive and excited that Sal and I finally moved back to Fairview after four years of school and one year of working in New Haven. He was so excited that he showed us the best house and gave us a reasonable price so we wouldn’t want to move.

I looked at myself in the mirror and flattened my hair a little. I looked like a mess and would probably scare whoever was on the other side of the door, but it was their fault for coming this early. Maybe it was Ravi trying to convince me again that Sal and I should have our wedding in India.

I twisted my engagement ring, opened the door, and almost cussed out Ravi until I saw a girl standing before me. She had soft brown hair, pale white skin, and muddy-green eyes. She looked oddly familiar. The girl just stared at me as if her arrival was bad timing. She looked at me from head and toe, and I could assume what was going on in her head.

“I just woke up,” I said awkwardly.

She nodded, and I noticed the slight blush on her face.

“Can I help you with anything?” I asked.

“Are you F/N L/N?” She asked, and I nodded even though it seemed she already knew who I was.

“You are the new lawyer in town that everyone has been talking about,” she said with a smile.

“I just moved back, so I guess so” I shrugged.

“Are you the one that solved Andie Bell’s case five years ago?” she asked.

I paused to analyze the girl. Is this some prank that has been going around? Many people, particularly the ones obsessed with Andie Bell's case, were excited to have me back in town. Some of them might go a little overboard by sending a bunch of flowers or, like this one, showing up in front of my house to see if I'll be looking for the dead girl's body.

“Yea, I am that girl,” I said, and she noticed my tone changing.

She seemed satisfied with my answer, though, and smiled. “Let me introduce myself.”

I cross my arms and have my serious face on. The one that Sal never takes seriously but others would.

“My name is Pippa Fitz-Amobi, and I don't think Elliot Ward killed Andie Bell, and I think you know that, so I am here to prove that the killer is still out there.”

I froze. I did not expect that to come out of her mouth. I did not expect that to come out of anyone's mouth; I thought it was just a thought that would forever linger in my mind. But here stood this stranger who had the same thought as mine.

I thought back to a couple of months ago when I was going through my laptop to delete some stuff and landed on a file. A file I promised myself I would delete five years ago was telling me to open it. I did. Two hours later, I told Sal we should move back to Fairview since our family lives there.

I tried to convince myself that I had only moved back here to be closer to my family and Sal’s family, but deep down, I knew why I had come back. That was probably why one of my first stops was at the police station; I wanted to ask them to reopen Andie Bell’s case because I knew the thoughts would eat me up until I finished what I started. I needed it to end, but I also needed someone with the same thoughts as mine. And that person was here.

I smiled at the girl. “Nice to meet you, Pippa Fitz-Amobi; my name is F/N L/N, and you are correct. I also think the real murderer is still out there.”

#sal singh #goodgirlguidetomurder #holly jackson #pippa fitz amobi #ravi singh #good girls guide to murder #goodgirlsguideseries #agggtm #as good as dead #goodgirlbadblood #original novel #novelist #bookaddict #fanfic

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crplpunkklavier · 1 year

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i will be honest, against all odds i've never really had to deal with bad self-hate, so i'm not the authority on learning to like yourself. but i think about learning to work with myself a lot. specifically, as i seem to get a little more disabled each passing year, learning to work with my body.

in fibro spaces and the like, even for positivity purposes, i often see something along the lines of, "you did it! you made it through another day even though your body is betraying you," and i don't think that's a very sustainable approach. i understand why it feels that way! i understand we feel betrayed. but your body is not a moral entity. and imagining it as your adversary will not make it easier for you to take care of it.

i used to work in nursing, for a good while. i don't anymore, in part because, well, it would be near impossible for me physically, these days. but i did it for a long time in my youth, and i enjoyed it. my last station was a neurology ward, where many of the patients needed hands-on help with their daily care while recovering from a stroke or similar conditions.

there were a lot of patients i did not like. just as people. but that didn't stop me from helping them. (i know there are uh, nurses this doesn't apply to. fuck them.) their bodies weren't evil, and they as people weren't evil, they were just a person i didn't like who needed help brushing their teeth. so i helped brush their teeth.

your body isn't working against you, and you aren't working against your body. every second of your life, your body does everything in its power to keep you alive. and that's hard to keep in mind sometimes, when my body tells me that i need to spend a full week lying down for 20 hours a day and barely having the cognitive power to string a sentence together. but if someone forced me underwater, it would still thrash for me, you know? it would still gasp for air.

on difficult days, the least i can do is give it rest, feed it carbs, and take it for a walk, even if it's only to the bathroom.

on better days, i will show gratitude by wrapping my hair up over night so my curls don't frizz, i will bake us muffins, i will take us on a cardio tour by the riverside. i don't get paid with money for this particular nursing job, but i get to watch my body grow hair over scars that i thought would be visible forever. so.

#u know.

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nochi-quinn · 1 year

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legend of vox machina season 2 episode 8: echo tree OR more like incel tree amirite

sam is the "nice melons" npc bc of course he is

imagine the twins using their old tricks to duck the guards and it doesn't work bc that was over a decade ago

hello Elf Guard Matt

"we're his children" (derogatory)

"I've known many people with money and titles. They are definitely not worth you."

VELORA

the twins are not immune to velora and neither am I

"your father will be pleased to see you" I doubt that

"if you'd notified me you'd be gracing us with your presence" has this man never heard of an emergency

"if you've come for my money - or my goats - I don't have any!" wilhand

"real vestments!" I don't know why that's so adorable to me but here we are

"did you forget to eat??" eating is one of the three things grog actually knows how to do

"hi, pop-pop. I fucked up" me every time I call my parents

"what can syngorn do for you?" directed very specifically at percy, fuck everybody else

oh I just realized he's probably shitty about keyleth too, since she's also a half-elf

a second-generation half-elf, at that

my partner: does he not realize vax is wearing deathwalker's ward me: he doesn't care, that's human shit

"do you have any idea the burden your sudden arrival has caused my family?" I regret to inform you that this is in fact also your family

and now we know what role vex played in this emotional abuse hellpit

"you might just wanna avert your eyes" she literally confirmed that grog's dick didn't get acided off for him

if that's how scanlan 'works both ends' I am terribly sorry for any of his partners

it took me three watches to realize he's whistling Pull My Beads Of Love

percy spending that whole meeting trying desperately to figure out which House he could give to Vex without Cass shanking him

"what does 'fuck you' mean?" little pitchers have big ears

(didn't they on-purpose teach her the word 'shit' in the campaign)

if we get byroden flashbacks are they gonna be exu-compliant

"somehow I feel like it hurt me more" relationships! with! abusive! parents! are! complicated!

ew, tree gunk

he finally called her stubby, I can die happy

I knew where they were going as soon as he said "stimulation"

big "not a good enough reason to use the word 'penetrate'" energy

I enjoy Transition Frog

garmelie: don't submit to his voice vex, already extremely emotionally compromised: ✔✔

look, I don't claim to be a perfect parent, but I don't think I could look at something a child made for me with their own two tiny little hands and just casually break it in front of them

not even just my child. any child.

yeah, come to think of it, even vax doesn't Get It, bc he never wanted syldor's approval, or at least got over the want very quickly.

(fun fact, every time I type or say "syldor" I have to force myself not to say "isildur"

look at this. this is insane. I'm obsessed with this shot.

the feywild is using all of percy's black powder, he better hope victor survived.

I'm glad we got the "if I could pull the blood of him from my veins" line but it was so, so good when she was yelling it at her dad

vax now is not the time to ask keyleth to touch your butt

"dear broken vex'ahlia" if the word 'broken' is literally in your proposal there might be something fucked up about it mb

vex: my heart is someone else's percy: oh? do I know them?

incel tree saundor

"how do you fight a tree?" with a druid

I reluctantly admit him making the arrows out of his palm is pretty cool

I also love a good upside-down arrow shot

vex Jungle Sliding for her life

god I love keyleth so much

the way it springs open inside the stab wound is A+

mala: of course it survived, bc percy 100% expected her to stab a man with it

"he is who he's always been" "I know. and so am I." I am foaming at the mouth over this, at vex knowing she needs to work on parts of herself before she can actually confront her dad

there is SO MUCH nuance and middle ground between "still being actively abused" and "full no-contact" but it's more viscerally satisfying to show the Salt The Earth Behind You fight instead of the long, slow, painful work of attempting reconciliation

tl;dr reconciliation is a thing and I wish more stories used it even though it's complicated and subjective

"I usually hate the theater"

"how did that appear? how did tvs just appear? and really old tvs, based on the make and the year?"

this motherfucker

"he killed me with them" grog backstory GROG BACKSTORY

westruun is my favorite arc okay, I apologize for nothing

#crititag #lovmtag #critical role #the legend of vox machina #liveblog #reaction post #spoilers

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justfor2am · 1 year

Note

it is midnight i have been on n off asleep since like 7 .anyways perspective flip, bts, for want of a nail, + a thousand words of the unusual fic asks? for whatever fics u want as usual 🫡

doing these ones out of order because brain said so, anyways— BTS: I’ll write a DVD commentary about my personal favorite passage from: [7th Sense] (Chapter 9: he's picking a lock he doesn't go into)

The final scene of that chapter, with grian and mumbo, is probably my favorite part of this fic so far, mostly because i'm getting to explore a different side of depression than I often see written in fics.

usually, you get the sadness, the shaking, the no talking/no eating, the limp, wilted flower who needs to be saved. and yes, depression is that sometimes, but it can be, and often is, so much messier than that.

it's anger. it's misplaced frustrations because the truth is too scary to confront, it's knowing you need to shower/brush your teeth/get dressed and being unable to do it anyways. it's not doing those things on purpose because you think you don't deserve them. it's quiet lethargy, it's restless nights that turn into a room ripped apart because you just can't fucking sleep so you're making it someone else's problem.

it's the lashing out at someone who means the world to you, because maybe this time they're take the hint and leave forever. it's knowing deep down that you're too scared to ask for help, and that you didn't mean to help them.

grian isn't magically better by the end of the chapter. his room's still a mess, he still hasn't eaten or gotten cleaned up, and he half asses his way through an apology to mumbo.

but he asks mumbo to open the window. and they both know the deeper meaning in that gesture, knowing that it was that very window that scar escaped into the night. that it's been firmly shut since then. it's progress, like it or not. _________ For Want of a Nail: If Scar had died giving Grian his life force in: [though i've closed my eyes, i know who you pretend i am] the ending, i'm sure you can imagine, is much more depressing. Eleri, the elven queen, would be without an heir to her bloodline, and the grief of losing her only son, the last blood family she had, would cause her magic to lash out, and cast the kingdom into a century of darkness. somewhere in that time, the heartbreak would kill her.

in the mad scramble to find someone to take over, gem would accept the offered kingdom, but feel immense regret over the situation, partially blaming herself for scar's death. if she had kept quiet and agreed to marry him in the first place, would he still be alive?

mumbo, now without a ward, would pledge himself to grian's aid, who very much does not want mumbo's help. grian is the most guilt-stricken of them all, half of scar's life force now pounding in his chest, keeping grian alive. that coupled with newfound avian instincts, and no mate to help ease him through the new magic in his blood, grian would be an complete mess, unwillingly relying on mumbo to keep his instincts at bay. it would be a few decades until, eventually, grian would isolate himself in the nearby mountain range, somewhere far too cold for a vampire like mumbo to follow.

grian would live out the rest of his days more animal than man, a self-inflicted penance for costing his lover his life.

good thing that didn't happen, right? _________ A Thousand Words: I’ll create a photoset/gifset that, IMO, sums up the main themes/concepts I intended for [the blood i'm owed is all yours] (trying to motivate myself to update the damn thing lmao)

compromise, i'm doing a playlist instead because this post is long enough as is. no particular listening order, put this bitch on shuffle king

_________ Perspective Flip: I’ll write a scene from [Why Do I (Even Try?)] from another character’s point-of-view (Chapter 18: just count to ten, and try to breathe)

(italics are original text, i wrote this stream-of-conscious style literally this moment so sorry if it's not super cohesive)

Grian hid behind his wine glass, the ruby drink only brightening his blush. "Rule two, no letting the public find out. I've got a lick of sense about me, and I know that we would be immediately framed as me being the pity points, some kinda mangy boyfriend, and I'd like to pass on that part of the publicity train, thank you very much."

"I think you would make an incredibly handsome boyfriend, but continue."

It was too easy to rile Grian up, Scar genuinely wondered if it was worth taunting him this early into their evening. It was cute, watching him try to gloss over Scar's attacks, deflecting with his own pointed silence. The game was fun, but half the joy was in the end result.

"Most importantly, rule number three." Grian set down his glass, purely for dramatic effect. "No falling in love with one another."

This one caught Scar off guard. He hoped Grian couldn't tell in his face, quickly clearing his throat to fix his soured expression. Right. Of course. This was transactional at best: Scar would receive Grian's company in the form of sex, meaningless hook ups between co-workers. At least, that's how Grian was presenting the idea.

Scar didn't want that. He wasn't after only the physical, as much of a nice bonus as it could be. He wanted to know Grian, really know him, reach the parts that the man kept hidden from the world and fall into his mind; Scar wanted all of Grian, not just the surface level.

Even so, he knew that for Grian, sex was so much more than surface level. It was a serious gesture of trust, and not one Scar was willing to betray. But that didn't mean Scar would give up his love so easy, and let himself be heartbroken in favor of physical intimacy.

Some way, some how, Scar would make a space for himself in Grian's heart. He owed it to himself to try, at the very least.

Scar grinned, and lifted his wine glass in toast. "Challenge accepted."

#justfor2am #justfor2talks #long post #it's like 15 minutes til 1 am why am i writing now LMAO

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spiritburger · 2 years

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BIG RANT:

Yesterday, I learned my final lesson about living with BPD.

The last person I called my best friend came to pick me up in another state when I was discharged from the psych ward. She has given me a place to live and has shared any/all material things with me, and I am beyond grateful. In exchange and out of gratitude, I babysit her kid and keep her apartment clean.

I shared everything I learned about BPD with her. She called me strong a lot. She told me to just do whatever I needed to do to get better in the wake of my official/'off the books' bullshit diagnosis, because I have been turned down and ignored by every mental health professional within 100 miles. She watched that happen.

Fast Forward 6 months or so. During our fourth fight about how I keep seeking validation and checking if everything is good, because I care about our relationship. I have worked every day to try to recognize, monitor, and correct my completely random moods.

After being ignored by NAMI (still waiting on a response after 1 month, after begging for advocacy.

My best friend stopped being around her own home about a month ago. At first, it was "staying over" at "a friend's" on the weekends, and now it's 4 days a week. She is leaving her kid home with me and her ex bf, and spending nights about the town. When I brought this up to clear the air, I was scolded. "I WANT YOU TO JUST DO YOUR SHIT."

Wow... quite the change in tone. The person who basically rescued me is now barking at me for speaking up about being taken advantage of. Nothing changed.

When I tried to have a more calm discussion with my best friend a few days later, she not only told me I talk too much, but that she is sick of me constantly thinking something is wrong, which is literally the number one problem pwBPD face, every minute of every day of life.

I said "THAT IS WHAT MY DISORDER CAUSES ME TO DO, and I am sorry, and I am working on it."

... BITCH ROLLED HER EYES AND LAUGHED.

That, my friends, is the final lesson about BPD... Nobody gives a fuck, because they cannot understand what the person with BPD experiences... They ALL get sick of it, because we are fucking awful to be around.

Sure hope I can get a job so I can get the fuck out of this new toxic environment.

Until then, I guess I'll just shut my mouth, stop having any feelings or reactions to anything at all (except, of course, for listening to everyone's vacuous narcissistic self-aggrandizement).

Fuck yes, I'm strong. My superpower is losing and bouncing back, and doing so largely alone, or with help from people who rapidly grow tired and disgusted with me, and let's fucking face it... My presence just makes people sad as fuck. Nobody wants to think about how the person sitting beside them is constantly under attack by their own mind. This bitch pats herself on the back for getting up before noon. Nobody gives a fuck, at least, not for long.

I wonder why it's so hard to convince myself that I deserve to be alone when that is the recurring lesson.

I am never again sharing with anyone that I have BPD unless they intend to have intimate contact, and I have no intentions of encouraging or inviting intimate contact... at this point people make me want to vomit blood.

Thanks for all the help.

It is NEGATED by your ignorance and disrespect.

Tell me again how hard it is to be A Mom.

The person in question is a recovering alcoholic of 3 years ... Imagine if every time she mentioned struggling, I scolded her for it and let her know just how inconvenient I find her boring stories about how much she needs a shot of fireball. I sat up with her all night many nights and held her while she freaked the fuck out. Imagine if I laughed at her now.

FUCK YOU.

#bpd vent #actually bpd #bpd sucks #bpd stuff #borderline thoughts #borderline personality disorder #cluster b #cluster b personality disorder #life in hell

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kissesandsuch · 7 months

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Okay I just gotta say you’re supposed to be a born again Christian and shit you’re mildly upset that not everyone else in the world is but why are you still bitching?? You don’t wanna sit with someone……because they wear an evil eye necklace? Ohhh so you can disrespect other religions and be a preachy bitch and act like you’re better than everyone but god forbid I say oh my god I’m suddenly terrible and disrespectful? Hey bro people were nailing that man to a cross I don’t think a 15 year old girl saying omg is that big a deal. And side note HES NOT FUCKING REAL and even if he is why would I go to hell?? For not believing?? If god is merciful and good and shit he should understand that I’m thinking with my brain and not my heart and I’m simply not afraid of dying and don’t need comfort on it. I also wanna fuck bitches and get money. And also sexualize priests every chance I get. Can’t explain it. Maybe it’s like the mental superiority and corruption aspect of it? Idk I’m crazy. But yeah fuck you bitch I don’t like that girl either but I guarantee if I said ONE THING about being agnostic or an atheist you’d blow up. I’m a good person and shit and I’m not tryna start nothing but seriously fuck you im not dancing around the rules to your made up bullshit. You’re gonna feel real dumb for not being happy and satisfying yourself when you die and realize there’s no god. Womp womp. Imagine not fucking or cussing or doing drugs or masterbating?? Okay what do you do?? I’m playing sorta. Like bro you won’t listen to rock or “devil worship” music? Faggot what??😭😭 tf you mean you don’t support gay ppl you were ankle deep in pussy and yk damn well I’ve been there too. It just pisses me off. Religion pisses me off. It all pisses me off so hard. Jesus is a character THATS ALL. Yall mistranslated a book. That’s all there is to it. Fuck you and fuck god fr. The only amount of faith I have in ANYYYTHING is the universe. That shit WORKS. IDC you tried manifesting or meditating?? Have you tried crystals?? Essential oils?? Rituals?? That shit works in mysterious ways idk. I don’t believe in god but I believe the universe has good things in store for me. I don’t need to pray or worship the universe, I just know it’s there and that’s fire. No personification of it either that’s just my gang the universe. I think that’s a healthy relationship with faith tbh. I have faith that everything will work out and that the universe is on my side and I don’t have to try to be someone I’m not or deny myself or hate others to earn the universes love. I just KNOW it freaked her out when she was talking shit and I started reciting the Bible and told her to love thy neighbor and not judge….hey your words I’m just repeating them….. run that back fr….. it actually makes me mad the only religious people allowed are John Ward and Orel Puffington. That’s all we got. So fuck you and fuck your cult and fuck god and fuck trying to make me feel bad for finding it dumb bc adleast I’m trying to bet you a million I could make you question your belief in a minimum of 500 words but nah I’m not bc I’m a good person why can’t you do the same?

#I’m very mad about my friend becoming Christian and trying to force it on everyone like fuck that dude who are you you used to be cool

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randee0 · 7 months

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psych ward update: nothing major, i think they upped my valproate a little yesterday. mania feels like it’s mostly gone but hopefully as the meds start working more it’ll disappear completely. and i ain’t gonna write for a little while at the very least, even though i may have some (considerably more fluffy and lighthearted) ideas.

id love to do a BalaRoberta fluff-fic in the same AU because Balalaika is so divorced woman energy and Roberta is so so so divorced guy energy… i think it’d be very funny writing their interactions. also yea Balalaika takes Barb’s place, she owns Sunnyvale — i was thinking to put Eda in that position but i think Balalaika fits as the park owner much better.

also besides that i’ve always thought that Roberta and Balalaika were similar characters anyways, although Bala is much more reserved, calm and collected (and presents herself in a much more feminine way), but she can still bare her teeth if it’s necessary. Roberta just don’t really gaf about anything besides herself

also i feel like i kinda have to explain myself but no i am not writing a self-insert power fantasy. i had some trouble distinguishing from reality and fiction a few days ago but now i am completely aware my fic is a figment of my imagination of course. sure, i write a lot of bad characters but it’s up to you to decide who’s good or not, i like to imagine my readers are smart enough to make up their own mind.

i feel like most reasonable people already understand what i said above, but i don’t write violence for the sake of violence itself, just because i’m some insane sicko who likes seeing people die on horrible ways, and i really want to get that point across as best i can.

the thing is, is that violence can be a very motivational and tension-building plot element though which is why i love it. even the characters I write that are intended to die early, i love giving them character.

like Ted and George, i pulled em straight from TPB but they’re a little more Lagoon-ified. George is sorta the straight man dumb-as-bricks cop while Ted is the egotistical detective who thinks he’s smarter than everyone. maybe that’s stereotypical but i still try my best to characterize everyone as best i can, i never try and dehumanize a victim. in fact i try to do the exact opposite.

whenever a victim of violence is dehumanized in one of my stories, that’s because the character who enacts the violence on them does not see them as human. not the author

for whoever is reading these post thanks again for taking the time to consider my thoughts. love y’all 😊❤️

#liveblogging #black lagoon #rambles

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journalofsorts2 · 1 year

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when did i lose my voice? not literally - i can speak perfectly fine - but metaphorically. i used to be this super outspoken little kid who wasn't afraid to speak their mind and wasn't afraid to raise their hand in class to answer the question, wasn't afraid to be wrong. i used to not give a fuck about what people thought of me, how they looked at me, how they perceived me, if at all. i used to be so outspokenly, unapologetically, me. i was confidence reincarnate. but as i got older that flame quickly died out. i mean in first grade alone i was already getting anxiety and by fourth grade i was a mess, and by sixth grade you would not see me without my hoodie. i used to be a perfectly straight cord, how did i get so tangled up? i mean obviously i know i've got bucket loads of trauma and that's probably mostly to blame but like why? like logically i know the answer, i was too outspoken at home and my loud feelings were too much for my parents and siblings (but parents especially). but like, why did i have to shut up? why wasn't i stronger? why didn't i keep speaking? why didn't i keep not caring? why wasn't i tougher? why didn't i endure more? i want to be loud. i want to be unapologetic. i want that me back. give me that me back. i want my voice back. i want to not be the quietest one in the room anymore, i want my thoughts to be heard, i want to stop biting my tongue when something bothers me, i want to be stronger, i want to be more me. i want to stop feeling like everyone's watching me when i enter a room, i want to stop feeling like an idiot when i do anything, i want to stop feeling disappointed in myself. i want to feel better. i want to be better. why can't i just magically flip a switch to make it all better? why can't i go back in time and be less me at home? why can't i go back in time and be less me around people close to me? they wouldn't have given up then, they would've like me more. i would've been loved if i just learned to shut my stupid mouth at the right times. i would've been loved more if i learned how to silence my cries at a younger age. i would've been loved more if i could fucking read social cues and learn to take a hint. i would've been loved more if i wasn't such a bother. i'm always a bother to everyone. i don't know why i even exist anymore. i keep holding on to this image of the future where everything is perfect and i'm happy but it doesn't exist and it will never exist. life is pointless and meaningless and my existence is just some cruel joke. i just want to be done with it all. i think i'm relapsing in the suicidality. yesterday i got carried away and actually thought out a serious plan of ending it. that's not good. healthy people don't do that. healthy people don't let their dad saying he was disgusted with them let them relapse in suicidal ideation. i had been doing so fucking good too. it had been so long since i seriously considered it. but fuck me, it felt nice to imagine being gone. and i can't tell anybody that, cause the last time i was honest about that shit i got shipped off to a psych ward. that was traumatic enough. and like i had been getting better by only making jokes about it, that was all it ever was, a joke. but now the thoughts are more than that. i just want to be happy. why is that so hard? idk man, rant over

#journalofsorts rants

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quintential · 1 year

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Making progress

I write that, to encourage progress. I mean, theres not much. I’ll try to be positive! I know I’m gaining weight again, so I try to say things I love about myself. To help? I hope so.I try to imagine the future. It’s hard not to be morbid writing on here, because I’m used to writing the worst things that come out of my head.

Some things to write about myself: I am me me me me. I did acid. That was nice, I know more now I am ME. About myself, and etc. I do good art. Why can’t I accept that?

I am smart and creative, persistant and good good good good. I am good. THoughtfull good good good. I do need a therapist, though.

I’ve been reading a lot. Fanfiction, romance webcomics. They keep my mind busy. I try not to feel shame about enjoying them. I deleted my dating apps. Also, youtube, tiktok, instagram, etc. I feel- not better, but I waste my time differently now. I feel the pull to mindlessly scroll. I try not to engage with that.

I can get better, be better.

There are still many things I do not understand in the world: time, the passage of time, the present, people, different people’s lives being real, sense of self, myself, romance, sex, men, women, myself, math, economics, etc.

It’s okay. I must know I know other things.

Things I’m good at: writing, working out, yoga, drawing, painting, ceramics, muay thai, stretching, doodling, cooking, talking to others, understanding people (feelings, motives), philosophy, intellectual conversation, listening, decision making, etc.

Yay! I got to see my mom today. I feel good, (I think)

Also, I’m ready to talk. I’m ready to talk about everything. When I went to psych wards. I want to work in a residential facility. Also, barista. Lots of things to consider.

Love,

Quintential.

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adventures-of-the-creeping-bam · 1 year

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NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM, BOOK TWO: ONE COLD TRAIL - CHAPTER 21

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 2 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT: Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: KESLA

Pulling one of the stacked chairs free from its place against the back wall, I carry it back to set it down in the proper place before taking a moment to unbuckle my swordbelt. Thinking about it for a moment, I wrap the strap around the scabbard and pass it to Shay, who accepts it amicably enough. Might not be the best idea to set it down on the floor beside me while I’m seated this time, no matter how cowed our young guest is. Better not to leave any temptations to hand at all.

After another beat of consideration I shrug out of my coat too, taking a long, drawn out moment to fold it before holding it out to Gael. They look at me for a beat before stepping forward to collect it, but I don’t need to look at them to know they’re fighting the urge to give me a look right back. I just keep my eyes on the young man planted in the chair in front of me as I start to unbuckle my right-wrist bracer, taking my time with it, making a show as I start to slip out of it. Once it’s free I hold this out too, and it’s collected quickly enough, allowing me to unbutton the sleeve of my shirt and start rolling it up to my elbow. Once I’m done with that I start the whole process again with the left. I don’t look away from him once.

He won’t make eye contact with me, which is a good sign. I’m keeping my face neutral, not being overtly threatening, but the implication in what I’m doing’s clear enough. He can see that, while I’m no longer wearing my sword or handaxes, I still got my knives to hand. I let his imagination run as I prepare myself, taking my time to let him stew.

We’ve ended up in a backroom, somewhere in the small labyrinth of sorting rooms, restricted access book-stacks and stores frequented by the attendant staff and other clergy, usually not accessible to most of those who are welcome in the rest of the temple. I’ve been assured this is about as secure as the place gets, not only guarded by the same physical forces who police other Order territories but also warded with powerful defensive magics that are well-maintained by the resident wizards on the temple staff. There’s no danger of us being disturbed here, and it’s no more likely our prisoner could be traced than the curse could be remotely activated through the barrier spells. At least that’s what they told me, I don’t know how it all works and I still ain’t entirely convinced I really trust it.

This room’s just used for basic resource storage, no books or magic items, just chairs and boxed supplies and the like. A space was cleared in here in anticipation before we arrived, and it’s easily large enough to accommodate all of us and our new guest, with room to spare. We’ve had no trouble spreading out around him as he sits in a lonely wooden chair, back to the wall, directly under the light of one of the oil lamps mounted around the walls.

There were three guards in here when we arrived, along with an attendant, but they cleared out as soon as we requested a little privacy. Now the only other person left is one of the resident wizards of the temple clergy, conspicuously not the same one who collected the boy when we first arrived. This one’s younger, but the moment I met her I was utterly convinced of her competency. She’s a sharp one, the look she gave me when we arrived saw right through me, and when I asked if she was sure the curse was good and neutralised she actually rolled her eyes before answering me.

I’ve never met a half-hob before, but I’ve heard about them even so. They’re a rare thing, hobgoblins don’t tend to breed easily with other races, apparently, but when they do the results tend to be pretty interesting. From her swarthy, somewhat leathern skin to the thick bristly patches of hair growing around her more subtle snout, there’s a certain harsh, feral edge to her features that’s nonetheless quite striking. Her eyes are even darker than my own, but there’s more white in them too, they’re more human, which takes me by surprise, and I suspect she might be more comfortable in sunlight than her parent, whoever they might have been. She wears her thick, somewhat unruly dark hair bound back in a long braid, and it matches her robes, which are simple, somewhat worn and entirely without frills. It seems to suit what’s clearly a no-nonsense personality.

Mistress Shul Mivzida insisted on staying, just in case the myriad security precautions and counterspells somehow failed to keep the curse from reactivating during the interrogation. I mainly agreed because, despite the fact she barely clears five feet in height, she’s one of the most intimidating people I’ve ever met, and the boy seems to be completely terrified of her, which is very useful in this kind of enterprise. Finally she insisted we just call her Shul, and I instantly took to her after that, since I don’t like all this formality either.

Now she’s just stood by on his right, arms folded across her slender chest, glaring down at him with narrowed eyes and thin, tight lips that are an especially neat touch if they are simply put on. She’s happy to defer to me, she made that clear, but I had to promise I wouldn’t do anything that might shame her look in the eyes of her superiors. Hopefully I won’t have to let her down on that, I’ve already grown almost irrationally fond of her.

Once I’m done with my sleeves I look down at him for a drawn-out moment before I finally start to give my knuckles a little work out, taking my time as I crack every one before giving my hands a loosening shake. He winces a little at each sinewy pop, and even though he won’t look up I really have to fight not to smile seeing his reaction, knowing it’s already starting to work. I wait another few beats before I finally pick up the chair again and turn it round before straddling it backwards in front of him, leaning over the backrest as I fold my arms and rest my chin on top. Just watching him.

“Okay, let’s start simple, shall we? What’s your name?”

He still doesn’t look at me, barely shifts his face at all, but there’s the briefest loosening of his lips, like he wants to answer me before checking himself. Planting my feet a little firmer, I rock forward a little on the chair’s back-legs to lean a jot closer.

“C’mon now, ain’t like I’m asking for your deepest secret here. Right now I just wanna be civil. Know who I’m actually talking to. I gotta have something to call you.”

This time he looks up just enough to glance at me from under his eyebrows, and it’s a furtive and anxious thing indeed. Again, that quick little parting of his lips, there and gone before I can be sure I really saw it. He holds my eye for a moment before looking down again.

“It’s not very polite, y’know. Somebody’s trying to engage you in polite conversation and you won’t even give ‘em a name to go by, ain’t friendly at all. If I don’t know what to call you I gotta make something up.” I sit back a little before I look round at the others, considering my options. “What about Bob?”

Gael cocks a brow at me, shifting their feet a little, still holding my coat folded across their arms while they cradle my sword, my bracers clutched in one hand. If they were really irritated about that, don’t seem like it’s lasted, I see a little amused quirk to the corner of their mouth at the suggestion.

“How about it, Bob? Feel like talking to me?”

Raising his chin a little, the boy frowns now, finally looking me full in the eye as he juts out his chin, and I reckon he’s trying to seem intimidating in his indignance. “My name ain’t Bob. That’s a dumb name.”

“Oh, I dunno, I known a few Bobs in my time. To a man they were good, forthright, reliable. Men who could be counted on in a crisis. You don’t wanna be associated with that kinda strength of character?”

His frown deepens a touch. “Ain’t saying that, it just ain’t my name, so it feels dumb you calling me that. I don’t like it.”

“Well if you told me your real name I wouldn’t have to call you Bob, would I?”

That makes him narrow his eyes, regarding me coldly as he tries to decide if I’m fucking with him. I wanna smile seeing it, but manage to fight off the urge. Finally he lets out a little hiss as he bares his teeth, looking down again. “Wull.”

“Wull?” I repeat, turning it over in my head a few times. “Yeah, you’re right. That is better than Bob, ‘least for you. Suits you better, I’d say.”

“I ain’t gonna tell you shit, lady. You can act tough as you like, I won’t squeal on my mates. Might as well just go spit, yeah?”

Resting on my folded arms again, I regard him for a moment. “Honestly, I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Wull. You seem bright enough, but you were still dumb enough to get yourself stuck in this shitty situation in the first place. How’d that happen?”

Another furtive look up through his brows, more of a glare this time, but he doesn’t maintain eye-contact any longer. “Like I said, go spit.”

“Yeah, that’s real cute, kid.” I rock forward a little more this time, making it seem like I’m just moving in for a closer look, then whip out my right hand quick and snatch up his wrist, yank it up towards me. He winces, hissing at the pain in his battered shoulder as I pull him out of his slouch, and he tries to struggle free but my grip’s like a vice as I reach over with my left hand and pull his sleeve up.

They took his bracers and gloves to do their work on him, so it’s simplicity itself for me to access the sigil tattooed in stark black ink across the back of his wrist. It’s a deceptively understated work, but drawn in a surprisingly talented hand, the dark grey lines of ink curving with pleasingly smooth artistic flair. If it didn’t represent such an ugly piece of magic I could almost find it beautiful to look at, but instead it’s inherently repellent to me, so I drag his wrist into his eyeline as I lean in close to his face. “Look at it, you stupid little shit. Look at what they did to you, what you let them do to you. This is seriously what you signed up for? To let them mark you with a fucking walking death sentence? Are you really that stupid?”

He looks up at me again, and this time there’s none of the reticence, the nervousness. He’s angry now, eyes narrowed and full of venom as he spits: “Yeah, I did that, I agreed, because they’re my friends. I ain’t gonna just turn on my friends to save my own skin. Don’t you even get that?”

Letting go of his wrist, I sit back a bit, watching him sidelong for a moment. “No, I do, I get it. Your friends are like your family, right? You’d die for ‘em in a heartbeat, if it came to it. I’d do the same for my friends, every one of ‘em.”

“Then you get that I ain’t giving you shit, no matter what you do to me.” He looks me over for a few moments, clearly noting the various knives I still have conspicuously on my person. “Not that you can do much to me, not really. You seen how this shit works, an’ you got an idea why it works. So all this shit you’re threatening me with, you can’t even do that, so I don’t get what you’re even flexing for in the first place.”

Leaning my chin on my folded arms again, I cock my head. “Oh no, you see, that’s just your problem. You think you know how this all works. You ever actually tortured anybody before?”

His eyes widen at the word torture, he can’t help it. He opens his mouth to reply, but comes up short.

Smiling now, I lean in on the back legs of the chair again. “A lot of people think the serious torture’s all about fancy instruments and special techniques, but mostly that’s just bollocks. A lot of the real pain a human being can inflict on another, you don’t even have to break the skin to do it. There’s places on your body I could cause you unbelievable amounts of pain without shedding a drop o’ blood and I could have you screaming for days without causing you any actual damage at all.” I lean an inch or two closer so all I have to do is whisper to him. “You ever had anyone yank on your balls before? I mean really tug ‘em, hard?”

His lower lip starts to quiver now as he starts to shrink down in his chair, clearly wanting to get further away from me but not having anywhere he can really go. “What … what …”

“There’s points on the soles o’ your feet, all I gotta do is poke nice an’ hard with a stick and you’ll squeal like a pig. Your hands too. It’s all to do with nerve endings, they way they just bunch up in certain places, your body’s made in funny ways and it can be really detrimental for you sometimes when you run into somebody who actually knows what they’re doing.” Again I lower my voice so I can whisper as I lean close enough to breathe right into his ear. “Your back? That thing’s a fucking playground, believe me. I’m gonna go nuts on that.”

When I let my gravity land me back on all four chair-legs again I keep the smile on my face, brushing my errant hair up out of my face again so he can get a good look at my eyes. He’s looking at me like I’m some kind of demon now, I swear, he’s completely terrified of me. He’s clearly been sweating the whole time we’ve had him in here, and not just from the pain of the injuries Gael gave him, but he’s thoroughly bathed in it now. That makes me smile a touch wider. “Course half the work’s already been done for me, ain’t it? I could go to work on that shoulder o’ yours first, that’d give me a nice little opening before I’d even have to think about moving onto virgin territory.”

For a long, drawn out moment he just watches me, eyes wide, lips drawn to a tight line, breathing fast through his nostrils while the sweat continues to pour down his face. I keep my eyes locked on his the whole time, but then I got him transfixed now, don’t reckon he could look away if he tried. The room’s become very quiet now, the only sound now is his rapid breathing, and in the back of my mind I wonder how much I’ve worked on the nerves of my friends who’ve just had to listen to me talk like that. If they’re wondering just how far I actually would go if he actually calls me on what’s not really a bluff in the first place.

That’s the thing that’s gnawing on me a little, that I’m working really hard to keep from showing as I look at him. It’s not that I can’t do all that shit I just said I could, and maybe worse. Problem is I know, if really pushed, I actually could. And it scares the hell outta me …

And then he licks his lips. He probably doesn’t even quite realise he’s done it, he just can’t help it. I’ve got him. So I stand up, casual as I can, and he flinches back as I take hold of my chair, turn it round, and plant myself again, the right way round this time. With nothing between us now, which sends a message all on its own. When I lean forward this time I’m not smiling anymore. “All right then, how about I just start folding your fingers back on themselves? Don’t need to draw blood to do that.”

“No! Fuck no! Gods, please …” He manages to stay in the chair when he flinches back this time, but it’s a bloody miracle. “Don’t touch me!”

“That’s kinda how this works, though.” I reach out again, both hands this time, a little more forceful now. “Tough break, kid. Pardon the choice o’ words, mind.”

“Stop!! Please, for the love o’ fuck, just stop! I’ll talk, just … just don’t! Please!”

Watching the tears pour down his cheeks as his dam breaks, I don’t have to look down to know his bladder’s gone too. Fuck … that worked better than I hoped it would.

When I look up at Shay I’m a little taken aback by what I see in her face, it’s an expression I’ve never even seen her make before. She looks genuinely disgusted with me, and more than just a little bit, too. It’s all I can do to keep from letting the shock show on my face, and I can’t hold her gaze for long at all. Gael won’t even look at me now, I notice, and even Darwyn seems a little uncomfortable.

Thel … she doesn’t seem at all shocked like the others, she’s just watching me with cool curiosity, and I’m sure she’s trying to work me out again, taking this new information into consideration. I wonder what she might’ve done if it was her taking the lead here.

I take a deep breath and sit back again, letting it out slow as I reach up and brush my hair back a little more forcefully now. My hands are shaking, ever so slightly, I can only just pick up on it but it’s telling enough, so it’s harder still for me to keep my face good and straight as I pick my right foot up and set it down across my left knee as I fold my arms. I wait for the boy to calm down a little, for his breathing to slow enough that it doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

“All right, then. Guess we’ll start simple.”

Wull’s breath shudders when he lets it out, but his voice doesn’t break much, which is a good enough sign, I suppose. “Um … yeah. Sure.”

“Who d’you work for?”

He doesn’t answer right away, instead licking his lips again and reaching up, very slowly indeed, to mop his brow with the back of a very shaky right hand, like he doesn’t want to seem like any kind of threat at all. Finally he takes another breath, and this time it doesn’t hitch when he lets it out. “Vandryss.”

The name doesn’t ring any bells. I turn to Darwyn now, wanting to gauge her own reaction, but she’s not looking my way, eyes conspicuously focused on the floor now. I clear my throat very loudly, and she almost jumps out of her skin when she realises I’m trying to address her now. She regards me with wide eyes for a moment, then shakes her head, and it seems she’s with it enough to realise what I was asking before delivering a negative.

Thel shakes her head too when I regard her, but I’m less surprised there. I know she’s not really local, even if she might work out of here like we seem to have adopted Hocknar as our own these days. After a moment’s consideration, she adds a shrug to drive the point home.

Okay, maybe I need to press a little. “Who’s Vandryss?”

Wull watches me for another moment, wariness in his eyes again, but when I glance down at his hand, then back up to his eyes again, flexing my fingers as slow punctuation, this seems to be warning enough. “This creepy bitch, she’s the one we all answer to.”

I look up to Gael for a moment, and at least this time they’re actually willing to look at me again, a little bit of a frown touching their brow now. Turning back, I take a moment to choose my next question. “Wizard type, is she?”

This makes him frown too, narrowing his eyes a little, but it’s just from confusion. “No, she’s … ain’t really sure, to be honest. She’s a fighter, like you an’ these two, but … I dunno. There’s something wrong with ‘er.”

Sitting forward again, I lace my fingers with deliberate slowness, more to keep my growing urgency in check, really. “Wrong how? Tell me about her.”

“I dunno …” He licks his lips again, frown deepening, and thinks for a moment. “Thought she had some elf blood, ‘least to start, cuz her ears are kinda pointy, but … she ain’t got that glow, y’know? I mean she’s pale, but … I dunno. More it’s just sallow, like she never got any sun a day in her life. Hair’s white as bone, too. Might mistake her for an albino ‘cept for her eyes.”

“What about ‘em?”

“They’re green. Like really green. Got a proper glow in ‘em, it’s kinda fucked. I saw her in the shadows one time and I swear I saw her eyes way before I saw the rest of her stepping out. Creeped the hell outta me.”

Again, I look up at Gael, who just shakes their head again, frowning deep. I’ll admit, that description ain’t ringing any bells with me, either. “Anything else?”

“She got a whole lot o’ sharp teeth in her mouth, too. And black nails.”

Yeah, that don’t sound right either. Better ask Yes about that when we’re done in here, see if it rings any bells with her. She knows a whole lot more about dark, wrong shit than I’ll ever learn, I reckon. Taking a deep breath, I try to keep my voice level as I plough on. “So how come she’s in charge o’ your group, if you don’t even know who or … honestly, what she is? I thought you said you and yours were s’posed to be tight.”

“We are!” He sits forward for the first time, hands on his knees as he speaks with fervour, and there’s some strange new note to his voice now, might be desperation. It rattles me a touch to hear it. “We’re like a family, like you said. Vik was the boss for all the time we was coming up, then suddenly one day that creepy bitch just turned up and he was like, hey guys, this is Vandryss. She’s in charge now.” He ain’t flinching when he looks in my eyes now, and he looks desperate as he sounds now. “It was fucked up, but … he’s still Vik. There’s nothing wrong with him, he ain’t acting any different. So we just … went along with it.”

“Just like that? That didn’t seem fucked up to you?”

“Vik’s the boss, he looks out for us and he knows what’s best. So he decided to take orders from this … Vandryss, I ain’t gonna argue.”

“Vik … he’s the one in the wolf mask, right?” Thel interjects now, taking a little step closer on my side, arms still folded. She’s still playing it cool, but … there’s a little bit of an edge now.

“In the …” Wull looks up at her now, blinks for a moment, almost like he’s never actually seen her before, even surprised to see her in the first place. Maybe he’s just rattled by this conversation. “No, that’s Tog. He handles my crew. There’s like … I dunno, half a dozen of ‘em, maybe? Tog answers to Vik, so like I said, he’s the boss. I mean sure, if Tog says we do something, we’ll do it, but if it sounds dumb we’ll question it first. But not Vik. What he says goes.”

Wow … this feels a little like we’re getting talked round in circles, it’s giving me a headache. I look at Thel and she’s starting to frown too, and when I catch her eye she just shrugs. Turning to Gael, I find they’re as thrown as me, and Shay seems similarly perturbed. Even Darwyn’s thinking hard now.

Okay … well, least we got him talking now. Keep going, then. I take another breath and sit forward again. “So the mark, the one you all got slapped with, who put that on you? Was it this Vandryss, or was it somebody else? A wizard, maybe?”

Wull’s eyes widen a little at that. “Yeah, she … we seen her a few times now. She works with Vandryss. I dunno, she ain’t like her. She’s … I dunno, she’s kinda nice, I guess.”

“Nice? Really?” I look up at Gael again, and they’re moving closer now, leaning on their staff a little as they start listening harder. “How come?”

“When she put these on … I mean, it was done the regular way, they brought in some regular tattooists, couple o’ those pros from the docks, I’m sure. I dunno which ones, ain’t that many of us really bother with that kinda stuff, but … well, like a few of the other I got myself one once before, when I first came up, so I knew they were pretty good, definitely seemed to know what they were doing. They put the tattoos on, but she was there the whole time, every line she was muttering this … I dunno, something under her breath. It was weird, almost didn’t really sound like words, it was more … um …”

“You felt it, more than you heard it.” Gael prompts him “Am I right?”

“I … yeah, it was. That was weird.”

“An incantation. She was focusing on the sigil as it was being transcribed, making sure the magic took hold as required. Did it warm up as it was being applied?”

“Yeah, got proper hot. Whole lot more uncomfortable than the last one, I don’t mind telling you. Nothing I couldn’t live with, mind.” He sets his jaw, narrows his eyes again as he turns back to me. “I’m tough.”

“Course you are.” I try not to sound sarcastic as I say it, but it’s tricky.

Thankfully I don’t reckon he picks up on it, he just looks down again as he thinks. “Yeah, well … no, she was kinda sweet about it, really. She warned me it might hurt more’n I expected, so I guess I was kinda prepared for it anyway. And she apologised about the pain after, which surprised me some. But yeah, she was nice.”

“Tell me about her. What d’you remember?”

“Well, she was … I dunno. She was older, but not really old. Same age my ma would’ve been, maybe, if she were still round. She had some grey in her curls, see, rest was black. And a few wrinkles on her face, but not so many she weren’t still pretty. Well, kinda pretty. Y’know what I mean? How … I dunno … pretty in a certain light, that’s how I heard it said once.” He keeps his face turned down, but he tries a furtive look my way again, and this time I reckon I can spot a little blush starting in his cheeks. “I mean, she was nice to me, okay? Made me remember her easy.”

“You get a name?”

He frowns again, seeming frustrated now. “Um … no. Never got one. Tog said not to ask, said we weren’t getting paid to ask questions.”

“So you’re just goons for hire?” I try not to sound too disappointed, but I don’t reckon I succeed too well. He looks up at me, a little sharper than I’d like, then nods. “Yeah, that’s about bloody right, ain’t it? I take it your boy Tog probably don’t know much more’n you do, not really?”

“I dunno … he likes to make out he’s way more in the loop than he is, sometimes. He’s a flash bastard, so he wants to look like he’s a bigger deal than he is, but yeah, you’re right. He’s clueless as the rest of us, really.”

Nodding, I look over at Darwyn, who’s stood off to the side now, and if I didn’t know better I could think she’s not even following the conversation anymore the way she’s just watching the nearest wall, stroking her chin. Seeing her jogs my memory, though, and I’m glad of it given how loose my brain must be getting now with the fatigue.

“This wizard woman, or Vandryss … whichever one, either of ‘em ever have an orc with ‘em?”

“You mean that massive fucker turned up in the alley earlier?” Wull’s wide-eyed and skittish again, clearly a little rattled by the memory. “First time I seen him. Scared the fuck outta me, honestly didn’t even know he was actually on our side ‘til he started swinging that bloody sword at them.” He nods towards Gael.

Yeah, I didn’t think that was gonna pan out either, not after he said he didn’t really know who the wizard was either. This line of questioning ain’t getting us anywhere. Time to follow a different track.

“You know anything about the folk that’ve been disappearing, at least?”

“The … they what?” Wull looks genuinely scared now, casting about the entire group like he’s looking for anyone who might be able to help him out of any hole he might be about to dig for himself. “No, that ain’t us. We ain’t doing that.”

“But you’re mixed up with that all the same. You do get that, right?”

“Maybe … maybe so, but … that weren’t us. I mean, yeah, we heard about some o’ the other crews being involved in something like that, but it was … I mean that was just rumours, we didn’t know one way or another. All we ever did was muscle-work. I swear.”

Watching him for several beats, I decide I believe him. That proper rattled him, sure, but he was surprised, not guilty. I sit back for a moment, thoughtful now, although part of me also hopes one of the others might pick up the slack too, ‘least now we got the kid cooperating proper.

It’s Darwyn who steps up to it, which takes me by surprise, and the boy too, Wull jumping a little as she steps up to his side and starts speaking to him. “Where’d you get all the gear? The weaponry, the tools, the better armour pieces some o’ your lot were sporting? That’s all Thieves Guild stuff. Means your lot are in deep shit just walking round with it since you clearly ain’t in the Guild in the first place.”

Wull blinks, visibly startled, then looks my way, questioning and a little bit of pleading too. I just look right back, trying to be cold as I can with him right now. “Better answer her, kid. Save you from a whole lot worse if you just come clean.”

“Um … that was from Vandryss too, I reckon. Can’t be sure, it was one o’ the other crews brought it in, but … I mean, you don’t gotta think about it too much, y’know?”

Darwyn hisses through her teeth as she steps back, clearly pissed and I don’t blame her. For just a moment it felt like she might’ve hit on a potential lead, but no, again it makes sense. In a way it tells me something new about this all anyway, something else that makes a worrying but pretty fiendish kinda sense too. They’re being smart about this, using muscle that don’t know any better and keeping ‘em in the dark about what they’re actually doing, only parcelling out the absolute essentials of information so none of ‘em get an actual idea. They’re compartmentalising, and being real clever about it too.

Means we ain’t getting a lead that way. This boy won’t know who’s actually behind this any more than we would. Instead all we’ve really wound up with is a new face with a name we ain’t even seen yet, and a couple confirmations we can’t really do much with. But …

Sitting forward again, I take a long moment to order my thoughts, work out exactly how I want to carry this next question forward, in the very slim chance it might actually pay off with an actual lead, which I worry might be the last one we can get here. So I take a deep breath before I start and hope like hell. “Wull, this is real important, so I want you to think real hard about it, okay?”

The boy blinks again, looking at me for a long moment before licking his lips once more. He’s slow answering too. “Yeah. Sure.”

“I want you to tell me everything you can remember about those tattooists.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of The Creeping Bam #book 2 chapter 21 #fantasy fiction #original fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

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