#Oh and also tw whatever the fuck is wrong with me but we don't know that yet so I can't put it

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Gettin reckless. Impulse control on the floor. Y'all are invited to my wedding as soon as I find a willing candidate.

[julesdaydreams]

@rosekillermicrofic II prompt: May 1 - rose II word count: 951

TW: blood (it's nothing major, just a cut, but it's there)

Barty was standing in front of him with a rose.

Barty, his best friend for over six years, was standing in front of him, Evan, with a fucking rose.

And Evan's mind was spinning.

It wasn't like he hadn't dreamt of a moment like this. When the ball at the end of the year was announced, Evan's mind immediately wandered towards Barty. How it would feel to go there with him. His best friend, but more importantly, with the boy he's been madly in love with for the better part of three years.

Evan imagined himself standing in front of Barty, asking him to the dance, and not as friends - like the other times the two of them had attended gatherings together instead of bringing a date because they just couldn't be arsed to ask someone - but as more.

And now Barty was standing in front of him with that damned rose, thorns still adorning the stem because of course Barty wouldn't bother removing them, would like the fact that if he wasn't careful they'd sting and draw blood.

Was this some crude joke of his friend? Was this like all those other times they've gone together to such things instead of bringing someone else? But no, that wouldn't explain the rose. In all those years there had never been a rose and Evan didn’t know what it meant.

“So?”, came the all too familiar voice and Evan's head snapped up and towards those large eyes that looked like Barty's, but also not because Evan had never seen them like this; wide and expecting, but there was fear behind them, a tension, as if Barty was ready to bolt if Evan said something wrong.

“What?” Was all Evan's very unhelpful brain could come up with.

Barty looked exasperated with him already.

“The ball, Evan. You want to go? With- With me?” Barty's voice was higher than usual, if not by much but Evan could tell. He was also fidgety - which was usually pretty normal for the boy, but not with Evan. Not when they were alone.

Finally focusing on the fact that he should probably say something, Evan stepped into action.

“Oh! Yeah sure, mate. You don't have to ask so formally, we always go together to these things, no?”, he laughed lightly but it all came out wrong. Because for once in his life Evan couldn't suppress the hope that this was something else, that this meant more, whatever that more was.

Barty cursed, rolled his eyes, before looking at Evan with so much intensity, he found himself pinned to the floor, not even blinking.

“Rosie, you know that's not what I meant. That's not what this is. I got you a rose for fucks sake! Isn't that obvious enough?! I don't want to go as mates. Not with you. Not anymore. I just- I really hope I haven't been reading this wrong and I'm making a complete arse of myself right now. But- you want this too, right? Want… want us to be more than best friends?”

It all came out in a jumbled mess, just calming down over the last few words and he sounded so unsure. Evan has never seen him like that he wanted to make it go away, now.

So, when his brain finally caught up with him, when his thoughts where finally aligned, focused on the boy in front of him, the boy he loved, he just acted.

He took the rose from Barty's hands, feeling the way the thorns dug into his palm, cutting skin, because he couldn't waste a moment being careful about such a thing when all he wanted was Barty.

His arms wrapped around Barty's neck, pulling him down the few inches he had on Evan, and crashed their mouths together.

It wasn't gentle. Maybe it could've been. If Evan wanted it to. He could've taken Barty's rose gently, instead of crushing the stem in his palm. Could've taken Barty's cheeks in both his hands, cradling them, before planting a sweet kiss to the other boys lips.

But Evan had waited three years for this moment. Had been gentle with his own heart this whole time, trying to protect it, to shield it from every hook-up of Barty's, from every hickey that the other had, that weren't from Evan.

For once he wanted to be reckless and now, here, with Barty he finally could.

Soon it was tongues and teeth clashing together and Evan biting Barty's tongue, drawing blood from the other and loving the taste, loving the whimper it elicited from the taller boy.

Evan would've spent the rest of his life standing there and snogging Barty, but the taller boy took a step back all too soon, looking at Evan with such adoration it made him melt on the insides.

“Is that a yes?”, Barty asked and it wasn't nervous anymore, but cocky. That familiar smirk on his face finally back where it's supposed to be and Evan was so happy with it all.

“That's a fucking yes. I'll go to that stupid dance with you, Barty.”

They kissed again, something long and slightly less brutal, if just as intense.

And if Evan forgot about the rose in his bloody hand and brought it to the side, cradling Barty's neck and jaw; if the thorns stung the other boy's creamy skin, painting it a crimson red… Well. None of them seemed to mind.

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Kazuha, a well-known tailor in Inazuma, had a spouse. It's only a shame that his spouse is known for their 'infidelity' in his eyes. [ songfic ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking, minor and major character death/s, emotional manipulation in a way, gore, violence, fire/arson, sewing... questionable fabric, unreliable narrator, shifting POVs, dead dove: do not eat, dollification, delusional thinking, Kazuha progressively loses it till the end, beheading, oh God this fic and tws are long Im so sorry―

NOTE: During the fic, it is recommended to listen to "The Tailor of Enbizaka". It will make sense when you read through this fic :)

(also, I apologize if this took a while for me to write. I got busy and writer's block hit me :( anyways, second work and its the best boy! Though, I hope you all don't blame me for fucking him up. Also also!! This is very much a long, LONG fic— like 2k+ long, so 🫡 gl soldier, I'll see if I don't need to make this to a 2 part series)

(update: this fic took 6k words, good luck y'all, this one is a WILD ride)

In Inazuma, there is a tale that is shared by many about a crimson clad man and his lover.

The others never settled on what he looked during the day before his death, nor were they sure what his prior job was before he became a tailor. However, they always complimented him for his looks and his skill, knowing that whatever he used as his own special fabric would be tailored and taken care of well.

Even with one full of holes and tears, he is gifted with the ability to patch them up till it was brand new. In the village he lived in, he was regarded for having such a talent, and he had his shop open and full of visitors.

However, the only thing that made people question him was his behavior. Despite how mild-manner the tailor was, he often comments on how his beloved darling refused to come home and continues to cheat on him.

Many those that still lived during the time said the crimson-eyed tailor acted delusional, but just how far can those delusions go?

No one knows but the man himself... And the one who persecuted him, too.

It was that year since I've seen my beloved after the accident.

A year that, when I saw them, I've longed to see them and speak to them about our time together as a married couple.

To begin with, I am Kaedehara Kazuha, or― as the townsfolk here call me, the 'Crimson-Eyed Tailor'. Although I am highly regarded for my craftsmanship, many told me that I am odd for my adoration for my beloved maple.

Why is it that odd? I thought all married couples do this, even if some think that it feels off.

Besides that, however, my darling isn't quite aware of my... Endeavors. More specifically, their streak of getting out for hours, perhaps days and weeks, and not even coming around to speak to me.

I am bound to them by an oath when we were married: we both drank sake together under that faithful light of the moon, with only nature watching over us. However, it would seem as if they have forgotten that, and ended up cheating on me in broad daylight.

Like they had no such shame.

Alas, I am but their husband, and I can't simply get mad at my beloved spouse. I know they did no wrong, for they sometimes meet with others as an act of being 'friendly'.

So while I focused on fixing the kimono, I've began to hear something that had been passed around in the village.

Something related to my darling's little ventures.

"I have spoken to [Name] about the matters in their marriage recently," one of the ladies spoke, her voice not so soft enough to conceal who she was speaking about as I fixed the fabric in my hands.

"And from what they told me, they're getting their kimono fixed for when their lover returns home!"

I simply continued on sewing, but the lady's next words had me flinch.

"Ah, they've been married for years, aren't they? And it seems they even have their shiromuku ever since their marriage to sir Kamisato Ayato. How romantic!"

...

The blood continues to spill on my finger, with the needle that I used pricking it when I've lost focus and got too careless.

How uncouth.

From the tale shared by the folks of Narukami Island, they talked about the crimson-eyed tailor's marriage with his supposed 'spouse': an immigrant of sorts from Fontaine, traversing to Inazuma to meet with their lover.

Their relationship together is strange. From the accounts of those with prying eyes, they said that he was the only one putting an effort to their relationship, and they wished to take it slow.

However, there are those that disagreed, saying that it had been the other way around— and it was he who wished for them to slow down.

No one can decide what the tailor had done, for they can't even tell if his desires were to rush or to slow down. But what can be confirmed is one thing everyone kept saying.

He doesn't like his trust being broken.

It had been days after hearing what I did.

I hadn't seen my dearest beloved in those days, and the day I saw them had been when the heir of the Kamisato clan had returned.

I had been busy as ever in sewing till I realized that I'm running out of thread. I don't have any spares, and I'm well aware that there are a few shops that sell supplies for sewing.

And so, on a lazy afternoon, I've got out of my shop in the hopes that I can catch the store to buy the supplies I needed.

The soft sound of wood hitting the pavement greeted my ears, alongside hushed murmuring and discussing with the commonfolk. I greeted a few that noticed me in passing, but they were swift to return to the people they were speaking to prior.

It was a mundane thing, really. But it was the type that felt familiar.

Turning a few corners, I managed to locate the shop I was looking for. Walking up the stairs, I waved at the lady taking care of the store—

—not before my ears perked up at the soft chattering in the distance.

My eyes trailed over to the source, and then, I see them.

My beloved maple.

I saw that they were conversing with the heir of the Kamisato clan, his hand reaching over to hand them a small gift: a small box, with the ribbon being the color of purple. I spot the gleam of gold on top of the ribbon, which eludes me to think that it is the insigna of the clan crested in gold.

How tacky.

I had to hold back the urge to stop them as their conversation was hard to discern, my focus back on the woman running the shop with the supplies I require.

"Hello, madame," I greeted, making the woman smile and nod in greeting as well. "Do you need fabric again, Kaedehara?"

I chuckled, but it was only to mask the bits of instability in my voice.

"Oh, not fabric, madame. I simply desire thread. I have ran out of red and black, and I didn't want to delay the commission I had from monsieur Lyney. Do you have any right now?"

"Red and black thread, hm? I can check at the back. Please give me a moment to look."

With a bow, the seamstress turned around to leave. With that, I let go of the breath I held and turned my gaze back to the bridge, just a few ways away from where my beloved sunset was at.

Watching the two figures, I couldn't help but simply stared at the attire that the heir wore.

Montsuki Haori Hakama: that usually means black or gray. I've known that colored kimonos were not worn with this in mind, and he certainly didn't wore anything that would be too straining.

Still, that shade of black is made of high quality. I'm not surprised if he wore it so rarely, as though to preserve the detail and its intricate work from his very own seamstress.

...

I wonder if I can take it?

Watching the two descend from the bridge, my eyes wandered back to the lady as she returned with the spools of thread, all varying in degrees of color and quality.

"Here you are, Kaedehara! These are the best I can find that fit the colors you asked for."

My eyes twinkled as I took the spools to my hands, my fingers turning and nudging the thread to see just how strong it is.

Interesting. Good quality, too... Maybe I can use this to finish that outfit I've been saving for a while.

"Thank you, madame," I thanked her, making her laugh. "Oh, it's not a problem, Kaedehara! You've done so much for this little town of ours, this is but a simple thing to repay for your efforts!"

With a nod, I paid the seamstress and turned back down to descend from the bustling upper part of the town, the sight of what happened in the bridge a bit further away bothering me from within.

No matter, Kazuha, I mused, carrying the items I required as I felt myself walk back home. Even if you want to get rid of him, it will be much too complicated. You simply need to be patient and wait till the opportunity comes.

...

Although, whoever made his clothes... I wonder if I can speak to them to inquire about their techniques.

The first case that started this was a cold one.

One that is related to a person no one knew so highly about, be it by their background, appearance, and even their name. All they were known for is being the 'tailor' for one of the clans.

There had been a lack of evidence and information about this due to how many tailors had been requested all across Inazuma at the time. It was understandable that people chalked up to them being missing as nothing more than an unfortunate case, not one worthy of being dug into.

Others had suspected that it had been associated with something else, that something (or someone) had done this deliberately. There was no evidence to this, but their claims were loud as they were bold, making it difficult to ascertain its authenticity.

However, the masses have all agreed that this was a normal occurrence. It was not one worth noting, because there had been a lot more that spoke of the same tale, always eluding to their fate being that they were murdered.

It was, unfortunately, the 'norm' of the village in the legend. A norm that, if the people of Inazuma heard it today, would have turned their heads in disgust for how abhorrent it sounds.

Still, many remained curious of the biggest what if that seem to echo in their mind.

Was the tailor associated with his sins?

The Kamisato clan has had it's ups and downs, and it isn't strange to see that they were seeking out talented tailors and workers to work under them.

What was surprising (to everyone), however, was that the head of the clan hired me to work as the Kamisato Clan's personal tailor.

The reasoning behind it was quite simple, especially with what the heir spoke to me when he and I met in the morning when I was to be summoned in the estate— due to his personal tailor (a family friend, he said) going missing for days, they were unable to track down his whereabouts and presumed that he has gone missing.

I was only hired as a "replacement" for the clan's special tailor till then, and he made it extremely clear that there was nothing else to it. Nothing that would spell the fact that I will permanently stay in that position.

Of course, to many, this may sound as an odd deal. There are so many tailors such as myself that would die to be consulted on, to work as the head of the clan's seamstress and work for their outfits. And perhaps, in their naivety, they may consider it as their efforts finally paying off in some way.

However, I have been in a clan myself before. This is nothing more if not a business deal.

A deal between one rising clan, and one whose surname has lost it's widely known heritage.

This only benefits the Kamisato Clan in the effort to save face. To save face of the potential backlash they'll deal with should any information of the missing clan's tailor be brought to light to everyone who remain blissfully ignorant of the innerworkings of the clan.

I would normally deny this kind of offer, mostly because there is no benefit for me to join and work for them. However, times have changed, and I simply reconsidered denying Kamisato Ayato's offer.

... There is a few benefits to me joining. It may be minimal, but it is better than scrounging around in the dark.

And so, I agreed to the offer.

The arrangements set for me to move was quite swift. I'm aware that that he is a man of his word, so it was quite easy for us to prepare my living arrangements and move to the estate.

With the supplies I get from the clan, it's been easy to stay put and gather information to the person I'm targeting.

... That was, until that day came.

I remember it clearly: it was the ends of fall, where the maple leaves fell more and more around the estate's grounds. This usually signified the coming of winter, so I usually savor the season by having time off to admire the scenery.

And in one of my walks, I had travelled from outside of the estate to see if things have changed.

Which, to my luck, I've encountered my darling beloved.

But just like last time, they were not alone.

In the journey of my wandering, I have seen them speak to the sibling of the older heir, Kamisato Ayaka, as they sit on the table outside of the Komore Teahouse.

From how far I am to the entrance of the teahouse, it gives me enough space to watch them interact like friends. The way that the Himegimi raised her fan to cover her face, perhaps from her eyes crinkling in amusement from what they told her...

... It was intriguing. Very intriguing.

So much so that I've felt the claws of envy grip in my chest, clutching its metal nails and making punctures on my already bleeding heart.

What a nuisance. Must you hurt me like this, darling?

I can hardly remember what happened after that. After all, my focus had been set on the two speaking to each other like they were simply companions, unknowing of what fate may bring upon them.

...

"Oh? Kazuha! I didn't notice you came to the Teahouse as well!"

My attention was swiftly pulled away from the sight of my dearest gem, and it landed on the familiar sight of olive eyes. From the appearance alone, many wouldn't think that an immigrant of Mondstadt would be a fixer.

Not even I would be able to see it happen.

However, this man had the skills to prove of his worth— after all, being Inazuma's 'fixer', he's often the go-to man to fix any and every problem that the Narukami Island and others may face.

Which makes him a glass canon— one that is volatile and unpredictable, even under the guise of a friendly face.

That is what Thoma is.

But this "glass cannon" has his weakness, and I know how to use it to my advantage.

Letting a smile slip to my lips, I chuckled, raising my hand to cover my mouth. "Well, I've been foretold by others about Komore Teahouse and it's history. I've been meaning to visit it, but I'm so busy fixing kimonos and making them to have time to spare."

A white lie, but then again, there are many of those that have been foretold in the waking of this world.

What does adding one do at this point? I'm already damned by the heavens the day I've seen the 'truth' of this fate of mine.

Just one lie wouldn't hurt, right?

"Haha, I can't blame you," the taller blonde seem to answer my query with his own, albeit he did seem to look more like he was at ease. Still, I needed to be weary; he can change sides if he so much as sensed that something is wrong.

"After all, with what the missing tailor in the clan circulating around the others in the estate, I'm even surprised that you manage to fill up in their position for months!"

... Oh? So he's noticed my talents, hm?

I shook my head.

"Oh, please. I'm just a humble tailor, Thoma," I reasoned, letting out a heavy sigh. "I have thought of asking them for advice on how they do their work, but since they're missing, all I can do is substitute for their absence."

He gave me an apologetic smile and nodded.

"That is true... I guess I'm just a bit too ecstatic to finally have someone that can fill in their role seamlessly. Lord Kamisato Ayato would've been panicking if we didn't have a replacement soon for his anniversary with his spouse."

... Spouse, huh?

"Hm... Is that so?"

I frowned in thought as I ponder over wanting to... Ask him for a favor. Sure, this one wouldn't do well on one's conscious mind if they knew, but it was simply for their sake.

It was all for them. I knew that.

It wouldn't hurt anyone if I asked Thoma to do this for me. At least, while I still have the chance to do so.

I can only hope the cannon does not think of shooting it's shot to me if I slipped up.

"Speaking of, Thoma, may I ask you for a favor?"

After the first missing case of the tailor, there had been more that were reported. The victims were all varied in their appearance, age, and even from where they used to live, be it in Narukami Island or even outside of Inazuma itself.

It was difficult to tell how many there were exactly, especially with how the legend is interpreted. Some said it was 20, while others said it was 50. This legend has been passed mouth to mouth, so details were not a key figure for a few to remember well.

However, every iteration has the same detail. The victims all had the same similarity as the tailor that simply went "missing".

All of them, in some way, were associated with certain individuals— one of them being his maple, where a few commented that they were the apple of the crimson man's eye.

From the legend and how it has been told, it is safe to assume that the motive was obvious from the first missing case.

It is akin of an open secret, if said secret was twisted to fit his ideals.

"Haven't you heard?"

"What? What is it?"

"The fixer, Thoma… He went missing just few days ago."

"What!?"

…

Ah, so he went missing like the others?

My ears had perked up at the news that we were told. Although Thoma is one many people never thought of being a 'target', the fact he went missing is... Odd.

"Perhaps he had done something," I heard one of the servants whisper amongst themselves, looking rather cautious. "After all, he's been very privy on a few things..."

"Yes, but he isn't the person I'd expect to vanish like that—"

"Shh—! People are going to hear you, you know! Keep it down!"

Hearing their footsteps echo as they take their leave, I turned back to what I have been working on. The sight of the kimono graced my vision as I raised the needle.

I began to sew the tears on it, letting out a soft hum while I fixed the black fabric from it's horrible state.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut—

"Sir Kaedehara? Someone is looking for you."

...!

I felt the needle prick my finger, but I didn't say anything. With a quiet hum, I raised my head to see someone speak to me, their face grim as they shifted on their feet.

Ah.

Despite the feeling of blood pour onto the fabric, I smiled and nodded, putting down the fabric of the kimono I was fixing.

"I'll be right there. Please tell them to wait for me."

"Really? Oh, thank Archons. I'll get going."

Watching them take their leave, my eyes flit over to my scissors.

Still as sharp as ever, I mused, pushing myself to stand up before fixing my attire. Mayhaps today won't need it to be sharpened.

For now, I had to see what the client wants from me. It would simply be a shame if I leave them alone for far, far too long.

Mayhaps they're here to inquire about the kimono I made. I made sure to add my personal touch to it.

...

As I walked to where my client sought to look for me, I see a familiar sight befell in the grounds of the Kamisato Estate.

The himegimi is currently speaking to my betrothed like they are close companions, and the magician (Lyney was his name, I recall), had been listening to their discussion at hand.

His eyes seem to lit up when he saw me, offering me a welcoming grin.

"You must be the tailor that my sister assigned, aren't you?" he asked when I was close enough to hear him, making me chuckle. Taking a seat across, I simply nodded, keeping my professional smile and demeanor in fear of offending him.

"Indeed, I am that tailor. My name is Kaedehara Kazuha, it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Haha, please, the pleasure is all mine!"

The magician shook my hand with mine, and the meeting went as smoothly as one may expect. Although, I couldn't help but let my eyes wander sometimes to where my lover is.

You were speaking to Ayaka like she's a friend of yours. I shan't stop you, darling, but perhaps you aren't aware of the pain you put me through.

Still, I couldn't afford to raise my voice, nor can I think of hurting you with my actions.

How unfortunate. Mayhaps I need to teach you a lesson myself, my angel.

If there was one thing that the legend failed to elaborate, it is the state of the missing people. However, there were... Creative liberties to those that began to see if the legend was true; or, pray tell, associated with any real life events.

To the eyes of others, going missing is a serious deal. It sparks a lot of ideas for what could've happened to them, and especially if they are alive or dead.

Albeit many shrugged off the prior cases, this one was serious. After all, the one that went 'missing' is the fixer of Narukami Island— Thoma, the immigrant in the nation of lightning.

It is, after all, what sparked the eventual downfall of the crimson-eyed tailor and his beloved. Many had thought this was the turning point, but those that did were found to be wrong.

This, after all, was simply the beginning of such downfall. But it wasn't to his lover, the missing residents, or even his companions.

It was to himself, when he used the blades to commit a sin undeserving of forgiveness.

The news that brought upon the missing Himegimi greeted the Kamisato estate that day.

I remember how people were in a disarray. They were much more shaken as they tried to get any sort of lead to where she is, and for some, they were already thinking of quitting.

The estate is already shaken from when Thoma went missing, but now that the young heiress has up and disappeared— especially in winter— it was in chaos.

While I sew the kimonos handed to me, there was an obi that laid on the pile by my right. It was a bit worn, but it can still be saved.

I needed to fix it, and give it my own personal touch. That way, it wouldn't look as though it had been abandoned by it's past owner.

Alas, the noise is getting to me. I could feel the silk resting on my bandaged hand slip every once in a while, if it weren't for how tight I've been holding the fabric.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I needed to put my focus on what I'm doing. I needed to focus on the job.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

I mustn't let blood nor dirt stain my creations.

That is what my mother taught me.

Slip, stitch, cut, sew.

Slip, stitch, cut, se—

"I apologize if the estate is in a disarray, detective," I hear a familiar voice speak amongst the hushed and panicked whispers. "The estate hasn't been the same ever since my retainer and my younger sibling had gone missing."

"Oh, it's alright! I'm sure this matter is too serious for you and the others to keep things organized."

"Haha... You can say that it is. Now, it's just right this way..."

... A detective is in the estate. How curious.

It wasn't right to snoop, but I was curious. Curious enough to have finished the kimono I was fixing before I stood to leave my quarters.

The others paid no heed as I followed after the two to Ayato's room, too focused to do what they were assigned to even bat an eye when I got close to where they were heading.

It was only when they were inside that I've stopped and simply bid my time, my focus set on what was happening by the shoji leading to his office. And it didn't took long till I hear things from the other side.

"Ah, so you think that someone is out for you?"

"Yes. Although I am normally adept in figuring out who it could be that's causing this to happen, I can't put heads or tails with how their presence eludes me."

"Man alive... And you said that it started when they went missing?"

"... Yes, detective."

"I see... Man alive, that sounds like it wasn't just a single, one-off case, then. I can help you, but this will take a while if there's no leads."

"I see. It's fine, detective. I'll pay you enough when you figure out where my retainer and sister are. I could hardly think that someone would take them without such consequence."

"Oh, no worries. With me around, no criminal will get out unscathed— I'll make sure to bring them here when I figure out who did this."

...

I see.

Perhaps its about time I have to settle this with him.

There was a time where I have thought that things will change.

Where these cases will be laid forgotten, perhaps even unresolved with the lack of hints.

I spent weeks on end, keeping my tracks short and erasing any leads that can lead towards me again.

I spent so, so long trying so desperately to hide anything resembling my crimes.

But alas... He found me.

It was the time where I had to dispose of those bodies. Although I had no heart to bury them under nature, I was not above treating them as though they were simply people.

Even in death, I wanted to make them feel like they look peaceful. Although, perhaps simply sewing their wounds left by my scissors was not something I can treat.

In the middle of the night, I was carrying the Himegimi outside of the abandoned houses I tend to with her retainer, Thoma. I had thought of letting her rest someplace else. Her attire has been sullied, and I needed to keep the two somewhere where no one can find them.

Corpses rot over time, and if it was possible, letting them turn to nothing in the likes of Tsurumi Island will be enough for my weary heart to rest.

With how adept I am of keeping my tracks hidden, I had thought no one would be able to tail on me. But alas, due to the missing cases I've caused, perhaps I wasn't expecting this to happen.

"I knew you'd be here, Kaedehara Kazuha."

I simply paused upon hearing his voice, my head craning back to see that it was Ayato. Despite how composed he looks, I can tell that the nights he spent trying to search for his beloved sibling and retainer wore him down.

His once flawless appearance was nothing but sullied, his attire feeling like its simply hanging off of him, and the way he staggered while looking at me without a shred of restrain is new. Raw for such a heir.

"And that body..." he murmured, his eyes glaring daggers when he found out who it was.

Perhaps it's her dress that makes her recognizable. Or the hair.

"... I thought I've erased everything that can lead back to me," I spoke, sighing as I placed Ayaka's body down. "What a shame. I was quite close to erasing any traces and signs of their whereabouts. It would be nice to only have them be marked as 'missing', not dead."

"So... You admit to it, then?" the heir asked, walking over with stride. "That you have done this, Kaedehara?"

I simply said nothing.

And I knew that was enough of a confirmation for him.

"I knew something was wrong with you," I heard him speak, which caught my attention. Turning my body to finally face him, I watched as he scoffed and continued, "After all, a man as serene as you often had the worst to hide."

"Oh? How curious. Why would you say that?"

I saw his lips curl to a smile.

"Why, I had someone tail after you," he answered, his tone sounding so blunt and his demeanor became more like he's simply 'teaching' me something. "Someone that is associated with the clan. I'm sure you know who it is."

... How uncouth.

"I see... And you confronted me now? For what?"

"A duel."

He unsheathed his blade, and raised it towards my direction.

"I do not usually participate in these, but I'd like to honor your tradition. If I win, you turn yourself in to the Tenryou Commission. Confess all of your crimes, and we shall call it even."

"... Very well."

I raised my own blade, as a sign to his own.

"I needn't state my own terms if I lose, as I can't let you get out alive. Now, let us settle this matter... To each of our graves."

Usually, such details cannot be recreated from interpretation alone.

However, this one was the few exceptions to it's inevitable fate due to it's popularity.

The legend had focused on keeping the existence and ties of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor up for the listener's interpretation. This scene, however, was directly associated to a case that had been tackled many years ago.

The case went as such: each resident of a town goes missing each week. No one knows when it happens, as the day is often random. The victims of these disappearances are also random, so no one could derive from it being a 'pattern'.

No matter how young or old one is, their gender, their living conditions, and even their past... When they least expect it, they simply vanish. Erased.

The only times where the victim was found, several eye-witnesses had different iterations. Some said that the bodies were buried, while others found it floating by riverbanks and the side of the sea.

But the most common— and widely known, of course— was that each victim were made to a doll.

Their limbs were nothing if not sewn with thread, cuts of various degrees being patched with thread of similar color to 'mask' it's oddity. Their eyes were closed, but those that were unfortunate to open it were only greeted with it being turned to the back of their heads.

In some victims, several pieces of their possession were taken. However, most kept theirs on their person, and were seen to not be tampered with.

No one knows what drove someone to this degree. No one can even comprehend such a fact that it was entirely possible.

But to someone who's mind was twisted to the point of no return... It was.

This case had a name, but every resident of Inazuma refused to speak of it. Each time one does, they were told of the legend behind this case.

They were told of the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, and they were warned of one thing.

"Do not look at him or his betrothed. If you do, you're as good as dead."

...

It had been a year since our fight happened.

I remember the chaos that occurred back when I finally erased that man. Although it did left his body in an undesirable state, I still fixed and sew him up so that he didn't look as such.

Even in death, I wish to give the heir some form of dignity. That, in some way, I wish to give him his final respects.

After all, he had simply misunderstood my intentions. He didn't knew that I was out for one person from the very beginning.

The downfall of the Kamisato Clan was imminent at that point. I've seen many flee, and witnessed the tragedy befall on the Narukami Island. Many of the people I've met had simply ran off to seek refuge, the terror grasping and choking them like they were unable to think.

However, I remain clear. And I simply continued to do my work diligently.

I have been working on something... Special. And with one last snip of my bloodied scissors, it was now complete.

My final and life-long work, all laid across and now in my hands. The fabric I chose was rather difficult to sew. I should have known that human skin would be too hard, depending on where I retrieved it from.

Dying it in black, I wrapped the obi that had been sewn with the use of the Himegimi's locks, and retrieved the crest of the Kamisato Clan. Adorning it on my person, I viewed myself at the mirror to see my handiwork.

"Finally," I murmured, feeling an odd sensation in my chest as I wore the fruits of my labor. "It is now complete."

With the chaos guiding me and masking my presence, I fled to head by the mountain.

I knew where you were bound to go.

I knew of your crimes long before you knew me.

I didn't paid much attention if anyone saw me. I didn't care if blood simply poured from my attire and to the ground that I'm walking on. I could hardly give a damn if some realized of my crimes in that blasted estate.

I had my scissors with me, and I only wish to fulfill my last wish before I leave this cursed world.

You murdered my family, [Name].

You were the one who caused that fire all those years ago.

I remember those burns you gave me. I remember just how much of a coward you were, fleeing from the scene you caused yourself.

How could I lose everything? And how can you keep your family?

No. No, that mustn't happen. I must set this right.

As your 'lover', I'll make sure you understand what you did wrong.

The culprit of the legend was caught, at least by the end.

All of the townsfolk had banded over to help the detective figure out who had caused such a stir, and it was only because of one eye-witness that said everything. That simply told the truth of the man behind it all.

It was the Crimson-Eyed Tailor, the one who was gripped with envy, that caused such a massacre to occur.

When they found what became of the last victim, his 'lover', they became a doll of his own. After killing them, the legend proceeded to speak of how he had simply 'sown' their skin alongside his, making them his perfect beloved doll.

One of the iterations even mentioned that his unnamed lover was in a Shiromuku outfit, eyes gouged so they may "never look at another man". At least, from what the tale has concluded.

Because of the severity of his crime, the tailor was sent to be on his death row. When the detective tried to get information out of him, they found out that he has lost his mind.

He became a shell of the brilliant man they knew, laughing and speaking that he has finally fulfilled his desire.

Even when he was dragged onto the guillotine, that day was marked as the end of the massacre, and those who were alive spoke of the man's chilling laughter up until his head was cut off.

...

And that was the end of the "Crimson-Eyed Tailor" and his legend.

Or, more accurately, the history of the known "Dead Man's Heart" case, and how Kaedehara Kazuha murdered the one he "loved" for revenge.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

[veeisdunn]

hi, hope youre doing well.

you said you would love to start writing again, and i just have this comforting thought with tommy as reader's brother

(tw: sh, scars, suicide ideation)

just, accomplishing a milestone of being clean, you look back at your scars, and stracing them with your fingertips. hmm, and maybe tommy keeps up with his promise of getting some air with him, at least once a week, and you catch up. i can see him noticing you strace onto them, and he does the same, and his genuine and loving brotherly side comes through. he tells you he loves you and is proud of you, just thankful for you <33

you can see this as a request or a prompt to write about, but you could also just see this as sharing tommy shelby brotherly love to his sibling <3 much love

Milestones

Tommy Shelby x sister!reader

I'm back!! Genuinely didn't think anyone would give a shit about my extended hiatus but I've been proven wrong. I'm going to be working through my requests so if you've requested, just know it's coming!! Thank you so much for the support and all the kind words, hopefully I haven't lost whatever kind of writing spark I may or may not have had...

To the lovely human who requested this, I really hope you especially enjoy it!!

warning: talks of self harm, description of self harm scars, mentions of suicidal ideation

WC: 2.2K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"No, look, as much as I'd love to come and watch you get the shit beaten out of you, I already have plans, Arthur." Tommy argues, hunched over the dining room table with a mess of papers.

"You and your fucking plans, Tommy." Arthur calls out, with an undertone of amusement, as he trudges out of the room.

You pass Arthur, your oldest brother, in the corridor, waltzing down with a skip in your step.

"What's got you so excited, love?" he chuckles

You smile and shake your head "Nothing much, don't get yourself killed tonight Arthur, okay?"

"Full of smart ideas, you are, eh?" He rests his weathered hand on your shoulder for a second and gives it a reassuring squeeze, "It's nice to see you happy again, Y/N." He smiles sincerely. You beam back.

"I'm just going to see Tommy" you explain

"Ah, well don't get disappointed, love, he has plans."

"They're with me." you admit, giddily

Arthur pretends to be deeply offended by this, "Tommy! I went in the fucking trenches with you, and now you're missing my fight to spend time with Y/N?!" he shouts back into the dining room

"Oh I'm sure Y/N could have been in France if she were old enough, she wouldn't have complained nearly as much as you." Tommy yells back.

You giggle and kiss Arthur on the cheek to wish him good luck before bidding him farewell.

When you walk in the dining room, you get the impression that Tommy is knee deep in some kind of bureaucratic nonsense, his papers scattered across the mahogany wood. Part of you expects him to tell you to leave - but he defies your pessimistic expectations.

"Right, let's go." He announces, slapping his knees and turning away from his work. You raise your eyebrows, as if to say "we don't have to go" but he ignores this and leads you from the room. He strides down the cavernous corridors of Arrow House while you nearly have to run just to keep up.

"Tommy…" you whine, trying to get him to slow down. He just laughs and walks faster.

You sigh, "Tommy!" you shout, frustrated. Instead of responding, he starts to run.

"Thomas Shelby!" you shout again, giggling as you kick off your wedge heels and run barefoot after him.

Eventually, you catch up with him at the front door. "Glad you could join me, Y/N!" Your brother teases as he puts on his coat. You roll your eyes and slide your shoes back on, slipping into your own coat.

The pair of you stroll down the sinuous path leading away from the house and into rolling fields. Tommy lights a cigarette and takes a long puff, unintentionally hitting you in the face with a cloud of smoke. He sees this and wordlessly slows down to walk on the other side of you. You admire how your brother can be so careless and thoughtful at the same time. You grin and look down at the path in front of you sheepishly.

This never gets old - you're weekly walks with Tommy. A couple of hours where you could both forget about the world around you and simply enjoy eachothers' company. You'd been reflecting on the past six months a lot recently, and today was finally the day you could proclaim you were six months clean from self-harm.

The routine started by mistake - around when you were found out. You were terrified, and rightly so. How could your family possibly understand this? They'd all done their fair share of bad things, but this? What you couldn't see was the complex cocktail of emotions your family was experiencing. Tommy, in particular, was infuriated with himself. The pair of you had always had a special connection, but then he found out you were suffering silently, hurting yourself, and you refused to confide in anyone. That's where the walks came in. Your brother was sick of watching you wallow inside the four walls of your bedroom, he practically had to drag you out. Knowing you were completely alone with Tommy helped you to open up - as he'd suspected, the house was suffocating you.

"I do this a lot. When I need to clear my head, I come out here and I watch the birds. Sometimes, if I'm really angry, I shoot them. But, you're not the violent type, eh? That's why this is so concerning to me"

"You know, Tommy, I never wanted to hurt anyone." you begin to sob, "I… I just have so many horrible thoughts, but I don't want to tell people, because they aren't nice to hear."

"Can I tell you something, Y/N? I am hurt."

Hearing this, you widen your eyes and your heart sinks. This was your worst fear, the reason you'd been taking things out on yourself in the first place.

"I'm hurt, Y/N. I'm hurt because I haven't been around enough for you. And I'm hurt because you're hurting. I don't want either of us to be in pain anymore, don't you?"

You never really had the words to express to Tommy how much that conversation meant to you. After hearing him, you made a vow to yourself that this would all stop. The only emotion you had which was stronger than your misery was your love for your family. You couldn't bear to stand them suffering.

You never really had to tell Tommy how much the conversation had helped you. You made it apparent through your actions - after a week had dragged by, you found yourself knocking tentatively on Tommy's office door again, feeling like a scared child.

"Tommy, can we please go on another walk? I want to talk."

He felt both relieved but also rather smug after that day - Tommy had cracked the code. He also grew to find this time beneficial for himself as well. When he was out alone with you, he wasn't 'Thomas Shelby, the criminal-soldier turned politician'. He was just Tommy.

" - Y/N? Are you even listening?" Tommy's gruff voice cut through your daydream

"yeah, mhm, of course" you reply, slightly flustered

"right so what's your answer, yes or no?"

Fuck. Yes is good… usually? Right? But this is Tommy, he could be asking anything. Maybe a no would be better - chances are Tommy is scheming something dangerous, and you should probably be the voice of reason.

"No, Tommy." You say with false confidence

"No? You don't want me to take a week off to spend time with you once your classes are over?" He chuckles

"Shit, no, yes! Yes I do! That sounds lovely, Tommy, really." you splutter desperately while he continues to smile.

"You weren't listening, love, weren't you?"

"No…" you whine, "Sorry…"

He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, if I have a ramble about some stuff, do you think you could listen to me?"

—

" …and then he told me that the cabinet don't see any of this as a priority anyway" Tommy sighed, finishing his rant which explained the mountains of paperwork he was buried in.

You don't have any advice to give, politics isn't one of your expertise, afterall. You rest your head on his shoulder and hum, as if to say "I hear you, [insert meaningful political statement here]" - or something like that.

He hums back, as if you're two birds in a song. You are both huddled under a willow tree, watching the sun set over the sown fields of the estate. Tommy treasures these moments in particular - you both sat in comfortable silence, breathing in the soft country air. He took comfort in the peaceful nature of your breathing, and how your silky hair tickled his neck with each exhale.

Your fingers absentmindedly found their way to your wrist, the memories of pain you held being particularly potent on this anniversary. You gently traced over the bumpy skin, you'd gotten used to this feeling - most people would probably hate having such shredded, scarred skin but you much preferred it to bleeding. Feeling the scars reminded you of how far you'd come, seeing that many of them were no longer red and angry reminded you that you were healing.

As Tommy put out his cigarette, he caught sight of your fingers caressing your wrist. Thinking about it made his heart sink - it had been awhile since you'd both spoken about it, and it had been even longer since he'd actually seen your wrists.

You'd had an awful day at school; you teacher had chastised you in front of the entire class for an essay you'd turned in late. You'd been clean about a month and you were struggling to keep it that way. You weren't expecting any of your close family to be around Small Heath, so you stormed through the front door and up the stairs, throwing your leather satchel of books across the room. You then went under your bed to search for your emergency box - containing a blade and some bandages. You weren't actually sure if you were going to use it, but you wanted the option.

That's how Tommy found you. He'd heard the noise, you'd have to be deaf not to. He let himself in your room and was greeted with the sight of you on the floor in tears, a blade in your hand.

He scrambled down to the floor and snatched the blade from your hand, putting it in his pocket. "Hey, Y/N, Y/N, look at me, okay?" He said frantically. You looked up at him with your glazed eyes and said nothing, paralyzed in fear. He wasted no time in rolling your sleeves up to check your wrists. He sighed a breath of relief to see only pinkish lines and scabs - no fresh cuts.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, alright?" He wheezed to get his breath back, before engulfing you in a tight hug.

That was five months ago, and those dark, angry scars had lightened to create a cluster of white lines on your wrist. He moves his hand closer to yours, "may I?" he asks, gesturing to your wrist. You nod, not really sure what else to say. His touch on your scars sends shivers through your body. He raises his eyebrows at your reaction.

"Does it hurt?"

"No, it just feels weird."

He sighs and rhythmically runs his fingers across the bumps on your skin.

"They look better" he speaks in a low, tender voice

"it's been six months"

"six months today?"

You nod. Tommy cracks a wide smile, expelling the tension in the air. He takes his hand from your wrist and slings his arm firmly around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"You never cease to amaze me, Y/N, you know that, right?"

You blush and look down at your lap. He puts his free hand under your chin and gently guides your eyes to meet his.

"I know you get embarrassed hearing it, but I'm so proud of you Y/N, I'm so proud." Tommy speaks with a kind and earnest tone.

You scrunch your eyebrows, not wanting to take his love, "But most people never hurt themselves in the first place, Tom."

"Don't lessen your achievements, you aren't most people, Y/N. I don't care what they've all done or not done, I can bet you've fought harder than all of em" He says lovingly, squeezing your shoulder.

You can't argue with that, you have fought like hell to get to where you are.

"And, Y/N, I don't think I say it enough, but I love you. I love everything about you, even the parts of yourself that you don't like. I love all of you." Tommy's voice is quiet, almost as if he's whispering to you. You lift your hand up to your face and wipe away some stray tears.

"No, no, c'mere Y/N" he protests, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing your cheeks tenderly. This just makes you cry even more, your head collides with his chest as you try to calm your tears. Tommy wraps his arms around you and rocks you gently, resting his chin on your head.

"It's just - I just love you so much Tommy, but I don't think I show you enough and then… and then I feel so bad because I feel like I look ungrateful for everything you do for me but I'm so grateful Tom, and I just don't know how to show people that I care." You cry, you're angry at yourself, tears still flowing down your cheeks.

"Y/N? just take a breath, okay? Take a deep breath" Tommy reminds you, resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing his forehead against yours, "Just breathe, alright?"

You follow his words and take a shaky breath.

"You know, you're the last person who should be worrying about that kind of thing. You don't have to announce your love for people every day, you're actions speak louder than your words, love. You're a good person, you do everything with good intentions, and it's clear as day how much you care about everyone around you. I don't know many people who care as much as you do, Y/N." Tommy smiles, looking you in the eyes.

You smile, a few tears still falling. You sniffle.

"I love you, Tom."

"I love you… more." he smirks

"We are not having this argument again."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡

Vee x

MASTERLIST

[aceass1n]

So I don't usually ship characters in videogames unless they're explicitly mentioned/canonical (mostly cuz my aroace ass never picks up on it lmao) BUT

I started thinking about Ji x Jietong and I have not. been able. to stop.

There's a few reasons for it, but I haven't really done any lore deepdives (aka looking into interviews, lore videos, etc) so this is all mostly from the top of my head and a quick scan of Ji's wiki page lmao (SPOILERS, tw: suicide):

Ji's dialogue with Yi re the Farewell Passage (or whatever it's called, I can't quite remember, sorry): iirc, Ji doesn't really talk about that many people by name in his various pieces of dialogue and they tend to talk about the past in pretty vague terms, so it really stuck out to me that he a) mentions Jietong by name and b) gave enough of a shit to discuss his legacy with Yi in relative detail. From a gameplay/plot standpoint, this was probably included to help Yi's character arc/introduce Ji's worldview, but I can't help but feel like Ji's uncharacteristic investment in Jietong's death and legacy points to a much more personal relatinoship with the guy than just "Oh he was my boss at one point" or "yeah he was an interesting historical figure."

Ji's Vital Sanctum memories: Jietong's death made such a significant impact on Ji's worldview and character that it was one of the four or five memories Yi sees in Ji's soulscape. This in and of itself is already pretty indicative of Ji caring about Jietong and what happens to him; coupled with (1) and the fact that the only other person who's "death" Ji remembers in detail is Lear (who we know he considered a dear friend), it seems pretty fair to say they were quite attached to Jietong.

In Mandarin, Jiequan calls Ji guoshi, which is a term referring to a state advisor/teacher (I think), even though no one else does. A lot of other people have already figured out that Ji was an advisor of sorts for the Jie kingdom at some point early on, and it stuck out to me that Ji is apparently still considered guoshi for the exiled Jie clan even though the kingdom doesn't exist anymore. Why stick around after all this time? Not to mention that, though Jiequan's dialogue with Ji is mostly Jiequan being like "hey you were fucking wrong dumbass", he does still seem to hold some measure of respect or trust for Ji and their divination. How closely did Jietong hold Ji's counsel back then for that respect and trust to remain in the clan even centuries later?

I'm also just a sucker for tragic doomed gays, and I can't stop thinking about Ji foreseeing how Jietong's life would end and trying everything they can to avert it, only to watch helplessly as the future remains unchanged no matter what he tries to do.

[kathjack]

//TW: Sexual harass mention (Not from Blitz), pressuring into having sex (From Blitz)//

Idk but I feel like the Helluvaboss fandom is REEEAAAALY like REEEEEAAAAAAAALLY forgetting Blitz was the one to actually pressure Stolas into fucking

And now HEAR ME OUT because I don't intend to say that Blitz is the only one in the wrong or that he's the abuser, Stolas is also wrong Blitz started it, which was his mistake (and I'll explain why) while Stolas didn't try to stop it soon and instead, proposed the deal, but there's more behind that proposition than we might think initially

In The Circus we get to see how Blitz got the book from Stolas, and I think most people remember more this one scene because it was the very start of it, probably because it was unexpected, and the early blush didn't help

Now I want you all to remember that he had just drink a whole bottle of whatever strong shit his butler gave him in one go and who knows how many other he drank And also the fact that he proceeded to do... Zero moves He turned on candles and put on music (That could very well not be in-universe and just background music) but stayed pretty much away from Blitz, and even mentions that he could've visited if he wanted too, putting more emphasis in that he only wished to see him and this whole thing isn't his primary reason

"Like yeah fucking would be nice I guess but also I want to know about your life and ask how you doing"

Like he was clearly just playing and not taking it seriously, and at much he believed it would only stay into some casual flirting

That summarizes it all, "ONE would think" sound like a "It looks like you want to do this" and not a "I'm expecting you to do this"

He then sits Blitz down and ask him about how he's been and how is work doing, leaving aside the sex topic and focusing on just spending time with him after two decades

Now here's the reason as to why I say Blitz kind of pressured him into having sex, and I want you all to remember, Stolas was DRUNK and also very, very confused

Like he literally jumped off as soon as possible out of the couch and tried to tell Blitz that he didn't actually want it, it was Blitz who kept making moves and when Stolas almost noticed the book missing he bite him Ofc Stolas got into it very quickly (When they were in bed he seemed to be considering it before getting distracted by the missing book), but it's the fact that prior that he was unsure about actually doing it (An unsure yes is still a no)

So while Stolas joked about it, Blitz actually went through with it So let's see:

Stolas jokes about Blitz sneaking in saying that it looks like he wants to fuck him

Blitz actually fucked him and showed nothing but intention to fuck him in his point of view

He left next morning with his book in hand without saying goodbye

With that in mind, his poor experience on relationships and the implication that he was S/Ad by Stella to have Octavia and that was her only reason to fuck him, he just assumed Blitz only thought about sex, and so he proposed the deal because he thought it was something HE wanted to. Now now, this is where Stolas is also wrong, he did not ask if he wanted to do it, but assumed is what he wanted, which is the reason of the horniness and the petnames until Ozzies where he wants to actually build up a better relationship with Blitz and tries to show him that he cares

They're both very in the wrong and have been since the very beginning (Like, again, Blitz pressured Stolas into playing pirates when they were kids, nice foreshadowing HB team)

"Oh but he enjoyed it" yes he did but that still doesn't change the fact that he was more pressured than anything and ended up just going along with it and the alcohol played a part on it

[ptcleamaea]

" I didn't know you ever were " - chad meeks martin x !prescott reader

Synopsis : You were best friends with Chad, but you want to be more. However, you think he's into Tara. What happens when you see them almost kiss?! ( I love angry love confessions )

Tw: mentions of stabbing and harrasment also Out of character Tara, sorry, guys 🤗🤗

Chad was your best friend, and after moving away from woodsborough, yall were attached at the hip. You would never tell him, but you were hopelessly in love with him. All his sparky remarks,his laugh,smile,eyes,hair. You wanted him all, but it seemed he didn't want you.

He dragged you to this dumb frat party, and you hated being there. For most of the party, you sat next to Mindy and Anika ( you're closer friends besides Chad ). You got bored after a while of watching them swallow each other whole, so you just started drinking. One by one, you got a little more tipsy as you went to go get another beer you found that they were all out. You sighed out of frustration and because you just witnessed Chad talking himself up to go to Tara. Don't get me wrong, you loved Tara. In fact, you've known her since you were a freshman all though yall didn't nesscarily talk that much. Yall both knew each other existed. As you're searching around for at least one beer to drown out the thought of them together.

As you continue your search, you feel a presence behind you. " They're all out, trust me I've searched everywhere," said a deep voice behind you. You turn around, annoyed. " Are you for real? " " dead serious, " he replies ," you sigh out of annoyance as he continues to try to hold the conversation. You realized the situation. You , a drunk girl looking for a beer and him , a frat boy trying to hook up with a drunk girl. You gave it some thought but honestly you were gonna see how this plays out.

" my names tristin, where you from? " He asks, you give him a quick look then look down. " I'm y/n and I'm from.. Michigan. " you reply as quickly as you could. " oh cool, anyways I think there is some tequilla upstairs if you wanna come with to go grab it?" He asks. If you were sober you probably would've flipped him off and walked away from him. But, your drunken self decided to give him one look up and down and decided that it would be a good distraction so you said " yea, sure let's go ".

You start walking towards stairs when you feel a hold on your arm. You turn around quickly and see that it's just Anika and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. " Hey, I think it's about time we head home what do you think y/n/n ?" I glance at her then him " no it's okay , I'm good here but if you wanna go home go ahead! " As you both started walking away.

You start small talk while going up the stairs when you feel another presence behind you. You automatically could tell who it was. Chad. You turn around and look to see that Tara was glued to his side and your face falls slightly. Only Anika noticing, she knew your crush on Chad.

" howdy partner, y/n's good down here " Chad says with a protective tone, tristin hardens his hold on you " what was that bud? " Chad glares at him and laughes with a mocking tone " uh yeah you did." He looks at you as you start walking down the steps. you sigh " Chad really it's fine I want to !" As you walk up to him. Tristin or whatever by now you've forgotten his name in your drunken state. " Yeah Chad she wants to" getting up in Chad's face than grabbing your forearm and dragging you up the stairs. " ow what the fuck "

Chad got more pissed at that and yanked the dude off the stairs and off of you. " how about you get your fucking hands off her dickwad. " they start shoving each other " guys guys fucking stop " you say as you get up with mindy's help. All of a sudden Sam enters with a fucking tazer and interrupts them and yells " Yeah excuse me a sec let me just taze you in the balls for a sec" as she does it you stand there in shock.

You didn't know what to do. You felt like this was all your fault. Chad getting into a fight, Sam getting out of the house even thought she hates it, and ruining Mindy and Anika's makeout sesh. Which you weren't that upset about the last one. Tara yells at Sam which snaps you out of thought. All of a sudden you just yell " guys just get the fuck out of the house " everyone turns to look at you in shock. As you storm out of the house, you weren't even angry infact you felt like bursting into tears. You're walking down the sidewalk to your shared apartment as you hear the group approach you. You turn back to see that they stopped walking while looking at you.

" What?" You say, your voice slightly shaking from all the thoughts in your mind. They all slowly step up then Anika asks " you okay ? " the truth is you weren't but you're not letting that out especially not with Chad and Tara there. All of a sudden you see Sam is right next to you. She slightly whispers in your ear " what were you thinking y/n , you know your mom said to stay out of trouble! " this set you off. " Sam I could care fucking less about what my mom tells me " lies you loved your mom and you knew she'd be terribly disappointed in you. " I'm not your fucking sister, so why the fuck do you care so much. Why don't you worry about the fact that your real sister was at that fucking party?" You yell. Chad tries to chime " Hey guys, guys cmon". You can see Sam's anger in her eyes " well sorry for caring about you okay? Also at least my sister wasn't about to get fucking harassed by some frat! " your anger disappears by that, and now it's just fucking distress. You storm off and get home to hear Quinn getting it on with some boy toy. You roll your eyes and get in your room and slam the door.

A few minutes later , you hear everybody else walk in. You didn't get up, you were not apologizing as much as you wanted to you knew not too. You close your eyes whenever you hear Tara walking to her room. You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. But, one thing that threw you off was the other feet you heard. Chad's. He was checking up on her.

You felt betrayed, you weren't sure why but you did. You decided to go get some water but you were not about to go into the kitchen so you just went into the bathroom that was connected to Tara and Quinns room.

You felt wrong for listening to their conversation, but you felt like you had to. It was a boring conversation overall that was until it got quiet and you heard Tara's door burst open and quinn say " oh my god did I just cockblock you, I'm so sorry but Sam needs all of us in the living room " you hear the two of them start denying things as you walk out not wanting to listen to the rest.

On your way out, you decided that you should at least see what Sam wanted and oh boy you wish you wouldn't have. " he's back " is all that came out of Sam's mouth when you walked out. You froze. No, why would he come back now it was just starting to go well. You swallow and just silently nod your head, and you sit down on the couch.

The tears were threatening to come out of your eyes. With what could've happend at the party, the Tara and Chad thing, and now this. You felt like you were exploding so when Chad came to sit by you all you could to was scoot away and near Anika and Mindy who both just wrapped their arms around you. Chad glanced at you confused then at Mindy who's gave him a " not now look ". You looked at Tara slowly. That's when Chad's gears started turning. Tara. You were jealous of Tara.

Anytime he was with her, you'd immediately tense up. He knew he had feelings for you early on, but he always buried them because he knew you wouldn't have liked him back. I mean, cmon, his friends practically made fun of you in school and always would put a shit ton of ghostface stuff on your locker. Why would you like him back. Only now he felt terrible way worse than he has ever felt before, and he's gotten stabbed. Tara knew about your thing for Chad. In fact, she was the first person you confided in about him. She felt slightly terrible about what she was doing but she wanted him and he chose her. At least, she thought he did.

You felt your heart start pounding as you glance over, and Tara is all over Chad. You felt sick. You quickly got up front the couch, turning everyone's attention to you. You hadn't been listening anyway. You rushed to your room and opened the window right after slamming the door shut.

Chad quickly gets up and goes to your room with a quick " I'll check on her. " He knocks on your door quietly as you let out a small " come in. " he felt terrible. But he knew he had to get you to confess so he can confirm if he's right.

You glanced up at him and turned away from him quickly. " Yes? " You ask him. " Can I not check up on you? " You scoff, "why don't you go check up on your girlfriend Tara chad?" He looked at you with sorrow filled eyes. " we aren't together you know. " you sigh out of anger now " oh really Chad, I wouldn't fucking know that because she's always attached to you at the hip and by the fact that you're ALWAYS comforting her and never fucking doing anything with me. " You slightly raise your voice. He scoffs " so I can't be fucking friends with people? Also why the fuck do you care so much, you didn't seem to care when you were about to get fucked by that frat boy. " He raises his voice back matching your tone. " BECAUSE IM FUCKING IN LOVE WITH YOU CHAD. I was only going with that fucking frat boy because I was drunk and dad after seeing you with Tara. There's your fucking answer." You yell back. He looks taken aback. Nonono why did I tell him that , this was so stupid. " Okay look im sorry for yelling at you but I can't sit here knowi-" you get cut off as you feel a pair of lips on yours. Chad's kissing you. Fuck it, they're not technically together so it's not cheating. You kiss back, you continue kissing each other then pull back taking some air

" I'm in love with you, and I didn't know you ever were in love with me. " Chad says , you look up at him with soft eyes." Not were , I still am. "

A/n : This was so fun to do holy shit!

Dt: @alanasblogasf

[sweeterelease]

you made a post about conan gray and the marauders please yap on this (sincerely a fellow marauders & conan gray fan)

DONT SAY THISSS I WILL NOT STOP

pls, my best friend introduced me to jegulus over the summer and i instantly become obsessed, so as one does, i started curating a playlist for them lmfaooo the black family and all the star concepts going on obviously led me to 'astronomy' first, i think it was the first song i listened to and immediately connected it to the marauders?

and then i started listening to more of conan's songs bc i thought oouu i remember i really liked his first album! and now he has 3 and i hadn't really tuned in for the other two, big mistake. HUGE mistake.

this man has consumed me, to my CORE. i wake up and listen to him, i eat and listen to him, i do work and listen to him, go to school, homework, shower, i even go to sleep to his music on. atp i think i need an intervention, my roomie asked if im going to see him soon bc i just can't stop listening to this mf (sadly, i'm not)

it also does not help the fact that every single one of his songs is about me!!! i hate him!!!! (i don't) but please, conan if you're reading this, put the pen down, i can't take anymore.

no but srsly i do love his music a lot, it's a fairly new interest but his sound and voice are something i can really resonate with, and the flexibility of genres in his discography! keep doing whatever your'e doing mr. gray

as i mentioned, i genuinely enjoy all of his songs but for the purpose of this ask i will give my thoughts on my faves for the marauders!

astronomy: JEGULUSSSSS oh my sweet tragedy, they were never going to make it. also this fandom literally runs on astronomy references so anything mentioning the sun, moon, stars, immediately them.

the exit: listen i know the obvious answer is jegulus (lily) or even wolfstar and yes indeed it works BUT what about the family heartbreak, i give you angsty black brothers with james, can't hate you for getting everything we wanted, just thought i would be part of it it's bad you love her, it's over, you already found someone to miss it's SO BAD

memories: this is honestly just me projecting onto regulus, i need to give him hug.

summer child: james potter we freaking love you..

heather: regulus pls stand the fuck up.

never ending song: this just gives me so much fun summer wolfstar, or chaotic rosekiller, love them.

boys and girls: sirius you bi icon

alley rose: WOLFSTARRRRRRRR it works as sirius talking to remus AND remus talking to sirius, they found eternity in each other.

family line: tw walburga black. i once read a headcanon of musician sirius releasing this song never knowing the but my sister's when i cry lyric is supposed to be brother's (what is wrong with you sad bitches)

i think overall i could give a marauders narrative to literally every single conan song, but in my mind superache is regulus and found heaven is sirius.

honorable mention: grant champman as the cut that always bleeds!!! so fun!!!!

[unprofessionalprofessionalbinger]

Put it down Spencer Reid x fmc

Big shout out to everyone that liked my first little writing. Y'all give me motivation <333 summary: Spencer suffers silently, thinking nobody notices. He's wrong. Spoilers for criminal minds season 2 episode 12

tw: cursing, drug abuse, addiction, eating disorder(?), short little hint at selfharm

"Don't you think Spencer has been acting weird lately?" I ask Morgan concerned. I let it slide the first three weeks. It isn't something small to get kidnapped by some crazy guy with three personalities. It wouldn't be unusual for Spencer to act weird or close himself off a little. But he's done such a 180. The only thing that stayed is his awkwardness. Sweet Spencer Reid sassed at me multiple times the last weeks. He even insulted me (I made a joking jab at him and he told me I'm wasting the precious oxygen a tree is tiredlessly producing)

His hands are shaky. He fumbles more. He rants less. He's gone colder and quieter. He scratches his arms through his sleeves and seems tired and unfocused. He's also gotten paler. And thinner? "He won't talk to anyone, it worries me, what if he needs help but can't bring himself to ask and then one day it'll be too late and-" Derek quickly interrupts my ramble before I go any further down the rabbit hole.

"Hey, pretty girl, relax. I'm sure he'll be fine. He just needs some time to really get back, y'know? Hankel did quite the number on him, you saw how Reid's foot looked." His voice is soothing. He always has that soothing tone. But it doesnt work. My mind easily picks words and the way they sounded apart and leaves only the cold, harsh truth behind.

"Exactly what I mean! He was digging his own grave and then had to shoot a man he pitied! That's horrifying! I don't expect him to be fine, but I sure as shit expect him to talk to one of us. Better, all of us. Not at once. But it's important. Who does he trust? JJ. He trusts JJ. I should go ask her if she knows anything." My tone is determined as if nothing could bring me from that path.

"Go ask if JJ knows what?" Prentiss. Prentiss joined not long ago. She's trying hard to fit in, but Gideon isn't exactly easy on her. Not that I can't relate. Looks like the only women he can stand are JJ, Greenaway and Garcia. Well, not that bad. But he's honestly a little... how can I say it? Different.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just about Reid. Do you know how he's doing?" I don't expect her to know. But I'm not shutting her out. She seems nice. At first I feared she was a nepo baby, but she definitely proves herself well. She had gotten sass from Spencer too. Honestly, for the lack of a better word, I'd say he's acting bratty. But I strongly doubt he enjoys whatever is happening.

"Well... last time I asked him what's going on with him, he told me quite clearly that I have no idea what I'm talking about, so I guess I'm not exactly the right person to ask, I'm sorry. I don't actually know him that well anyway." She seems genuinely sorry that she cannot help the issue. "It's alright, Em. I'm sure we'll get him back somehow." I reply with a gentle smile.

Turns out JJ doesn't know anything either. But I know. Not because he told me, but because it's obvious. Also, I'm pretty sure the others know too. Either they're in denial or just decided to ignore Spencer's obvious drug addiction and let him fight it himself or rott alone in his apartment. Great. So much for 'we are a family'. First Elle pulls the fucking card of just shooting the rapist. Then she has to leave? I mean, I'd get it if there was evidence, we couldn't have let that slide, legally speaking, but IA said it was legit. Self-defense. She got shot in her own home, she was traumatized and not ready to come back. Then she got pushed. Further and further. Instead of helping, the team just pushed her away. I can't let that happen again. Not to Spencer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I have been knocking on this damned door for ages now. I knock again. Maybe knocking is the wrong word. It had evolved into more of a banging. An angry woman opens the door a couple feet over and glares at me. I throw her an apologetic look and tell her I'll stop.

Just as I turn away, a muffled thump reaches me from the other side of the wood. My mind immediately spins. What if he's hurt? I knock one last time and call out "Reid?!" He doesnt answer. Without thinking, my hair is let down, pin in my hand. Then the pin is in the lock, next thing, the door is open. I step inside, gently close the door again, dump my bag and scan the room. My eyes quickly find the hunched over figure on the floor of the dimly lit room.

After closer looking, I notice the small bottle of medicine next to his thigh and the syringe tightly grasped in his hand. "Fucking hell, Reid put that down right now." He lazily tilts his head in my direction and squints weirdly at me. Dipshit is already higher than his IQ. He slurs a 'no' in my direction. "Don't make me hurt you." I say, half jokingly. With a few quick steps, I reach him. My fingers wrap frimly around his hand. His knuckles are white from how tightly he holds that damned thing. But that needle will not breach his skin again.

"Spencer. Please. Put it down." I say gently. It seems like he's high enough to not have that much willpower in him. He lets go and slumps back against the wall. I carefully put the drugs in my bag. He needs rehab. But that will cost him his job. He can't lose his job. It'd end him. The only way is to help him quit without getting forced by someone else's hand. I definitely need to have an insightful conversation with sober Reid.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is when our few little paid vacation days start. Ten days without a case. It'd be a great time to start withdrawal. I leave a container with pasta, chicken and creamy sauce in his kitchen, put a post-it on it saying 'Call me when you're sober ~Romanov' and take his dilaudid with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I should've expected that I wouldn't be able to sleep in until lunchtime. But hey, can't blame a girl for trying. My phone rings at nine and I pick up with a sleepy voice, not looking at the caller ID. "Are you seriously still asleep? Did breaking into my apartment and stealing from me make you that tired?!" Spencer's sassy voice reaches me through the phone. He sounds upset. I get it. I pinch my nose and sigh.

"No, actually, I'm just tired of getting shut out." I reply in the same tone. The line goes quiet for a while. "What do you want?" his voice is suddenly small and quiet, it breaks my heart. "I just want to talk, Goldie. Need some company the next couple days? I swear I'm great company." My voice is soft. An underlying plea swings in my words. "Depends. You got some more of that pasta? Haven't thrown up in two hours. And it's really good." I can't quite put what about his tone it is, but it makes my heart melt and I can't help my next words. "I could teach you. We could do a little cooking lesson. Promise I'll wash my hands really, really good." I add the last part teasingly, wanting to bring a little more lightness. "This is not a question, by the way, it's now officially an order. My place, four o' clock. I'll send you the address. Don't be late. You have to bring nothing but yourself in one piece. Don't think I didn't see that knife yesterday. You can't hide anything from me, Goldie." I hang up without letting him answer. I know Spencer Reid well enough. He'll show. He can't argue with me if I hang up, and if he doesn't show, he will 100% feel bad about it.

Morally problematic? Maybe. But it's for a good cause.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alrightyyyy, this is it for tonight. Might be rushed. Isn't proofread. I again didn't write enough Spencer aghhhhh.

But tomorrow. I promise. I'll feed fluff. Cooking together and a little angsty talk. Cuddles, lot of trust aaaand more fluff!

Again, thanks for the support, every last little thing means the world to me. It is an honor to know people actually read my shit (even if it's only for Spencer)

Feel free to leave any kind of critisism <333

[walder-138]

HEY THERE DEMONS ITS ME YOUR GOOSE

I have something I must discuss.

Annika's sleeping habits.

So we know that she curls up in his office closet because that's where she feels safe enough to sleep and hide from everyone else. But I feel like this occurs later on in their friendship, much later in comparison to the years they have known each other. And this is in reference to the ask you sent me whereby you wrote back that she'd doze off to his lectures about Perseus ideology (which for the most part would be boredom lmao) BUT what if, due to her poor sleeping ability when, like you say, she's on the brink of collapse because of how exhausted she is, in some of these droning conversations where his voice is the only thing heard that's what helps her sleep.

At first it's a completely unintentional thing and maybe she'd be embarrassed about it (especially in the beginning because they probably aren't friends to the extent they are later) and Keith would think "this literal child is being so rude, I'm trying to educate her and she falls asleep on me? I'm not that boring and neither is the goal of Perseus-"

Only to then, when it's happened a few times, he begins to realise that maybe there's something wrong and she's not sleeping properly. And the only time she seems to get some shut eye is when he's talking... so when coming back from a mission, travelling between places and it's an appropriate time to sleep, maybe he starts to purposefully speak for decent lengths of time knowing that it'll help her? If she asked him about it, he'd feign like he hasn't got a clue what she's on about. "I don't care about you enough to even bother, you're just being rude." When really he's internally like "fucking sleep, dammit, your habits give me a heart attack-"

Boy oh boy where do I even begin…

(TW: IMPLIED CHILDHOOD S/A BUT NEVER EXPLICITLY MENTIONED OR DESCRIBED)

Annika’s sleeping patterns, as I’ve told you before, is mainly based off the traumas she’s experienced as a kid, growing up in her dad’s terrorist organization. Police would raid the safehouses they were in, sometimes one of her dad’s men would sneak into her room, threatening her with violence to be quiet while they did stuff to her, and her own father’s torment for being ‘lazy’. It was always dark when these things happen; when she was most vulnerable.

Annika has a very specific way she sleeps; must be facing main entrance; no windows; blankets only where they don’t interfere with mobility; weapon within grabbing distance; walls between me and men

She’s slept on counters trying to keep these rules, even when beds, couches, chairs, or cots are provided. The tub, Keith’s office closet, and basements are typically her lurking spots when she needs rest.

If Annika and Keith are sleeping in the same safehouse, despite trusting him more than anyone, Annika would put herself on lockdown, getting as much space between them as possible without breaking any of the rules.

Even with these precautions, Annika, whenever she sleeps, 4 times out of 10 wakes up screaming. It’s a blood curdling, pained, and dreadful screech. Just how it sounds would convince Keith that it isn’t real, maybe just how his brain copes with the repressed guilt or whatever, eh? Just another dream.

And Annika looks completely fine the morning after, well, as fine as she can look, still, there ain’t no way it’s coming from her. That sound can’t come from a human.

He’d play it off, for a while.

So, after my long ass yapping session- back to the original ask.

Achievement unlocked: Boring as FUCK- be so boring that even a deeply tormented Annika falls asleep during your yapping session

Keith’s voice is like white noise to her- and it reminds she isn’t alone. That there’s someone who’ll cover her six if something goes wrong. But it’s also so fucking boring like dude how the fuck do you stretch out a yes or no question into a lecture like… honk shoe mimimimimimi honk shoe mimimimimi

(I think Keith’s the kind of guy to turn a joke into a lecture)

Honestly, I think Annika would never pick up on it unless he told her. In the moment, all she can think of is “Fuck I started him again, we just got back-“ honk shoe mimimimi honk shoe mimimimi honk shoe

She thinks he likes to hear himself talk- something she learned that a lot of Americans do. Always talking a lot without actually saying anything.

Annika would never figure out that Keith’s doing it for her.

[naughtyynova]

TW: underage, somnophilia, daddaughter

Just thinking about Gwen using Miguel's abs to get herself off while he's sleeping…

She just turned 13 and puberty is starting to kick in overdrive. Her nipples are always so hard and sensitive, her panties are always wet and she keeps having these dreams about her Daddy making her feel better. One night he falls asleep on the couch while they're watching her favorite movie and her body is acting up. She's all hot and wet and her dad smells so good. She sits up, throwing the blanket to the side to try and cool herself down but in the process she accidentally rubs against

Miguel's abs and oh-

It feels good.

Gwen bites her lip and rocks her hips experimentally and she gets that same feeling. It sends tingles down her spine and in between her legs. She looks up at her dad trying to see if it bothered him and it doesn't seem to so she keeps going. She doesn't know what she's doing, just knows that whatever she's doing feels so fucking good and she needs to keep chasing after whatever it is.

She's sweating now, her hair is sticking to the back of her neck and the side of her face. Her sleep shorts are soaked and she feels like she's about to explode. Soft moans escape her lips with every pass of her hips against the hard surface of Miguel's abs, she's pretty sure she's ruined his tank top but there's not much she can do about that now. Gwen buries her face in between his neck and shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne and it sets her off even more, her nipples rub against the fabric of their night shirts and its driving her crazy, she bites her lip. A final rock of her hips has her eyes rolling in the back of her head, her body tensing, nails digging into Miguel's biceps.

"Dad!" She moans out softly and Miguel's eyes snap open at the sound of her voice.

"Gwen?"

He shifts her so she's sitting up and she moans, body still sensitive from experiencing her first orgasm.

"Mi hija...what-" he trails off as he takes in his daughter's appearance. Her skin is covered in sweat and flushed pink, nipples hard and poking through the thin fabric of her night shirt. Her eyes are dilated and lidded and there's a wet spot between her legs that's also on his tanktop.

Only after looking her over does he realize that he's rock hard.

Fuck, fuck, fuck

He pushes her off gently. "Gwen, baby, what did you do?" She stares at him for a moment before she bursts into tears.

"I'm sorry, I just - I've been feeling so weird and I don't know what's wrong with me. I was just trying to cool off because I was hot and then -" she starts crying to the point where he can't understand anything that's being said.

Miguel pulls her back until she's sitting in his lap again. He tries to ignore the fact that he's still hard and hope she doesn't notice.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Your body is just changing and it going to start needing... certain things."

She sniffs. "So...I'm not broken?"

"What? No, mi hija, you're not broken. It happens to everyone, it's normal."

He won't mention that it's not so normal for daughters to dry jump their dads, she doesn't need to know that. As long as it doesn't happen again, they'll be fine.

"Come on, why don't we get you to bed.

Hm?"

She yawns. "M'kay…” He turns off the tv and carries her back to her bedroom and tucks her in, placing a kiss on her forehead. He closes her door and walks to his bedroom, making sure to shut and lock his own before he plops down onto his bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

He's still hard...

Fuck

[somerandomcryptid]

Alright I should go to bed but instead I'm going to ramble about Cryptid's relationship with independence/freedom of choice and how they assert it/how they deal with it when it's taken away in Dreaming of death because the brain worms are going strong

Ramble under the cut

Tw for, mentions of child abuse(verbal, emotion), mentions of a kid being slapped(once), mentions of dismemberment, mentions of underage drinking, and mentions of suicide attempts and ideation

Ok so in Wren's world pre-kidnapping they have nothing to assert, there's nothing wrong and Dream and Wren don't really.. make rules for them? I mean they aren't their parents and they don't act like it. I mean they do try to keep the kid alive but you know. They honestly treat them more like another roommate, but child. If that makes sense.

And their agency isn't really limited or taken away at all til the kidnapping.(beyond the whole thrust into another world without their consent by a god but what can you do?)

Speaking of! They compensate with not being able to get away from Q and Sam by being a huge pain in the ass. They struggle till they are completely tired out despite knowing it's not going to get them anywhere. They snark or curse out Q at every occasion. Sam has to carry them basically the whole time because they just refuse to walk, and when they do walk, they walk in the opposite direction as wanted. And they know they won't get hurt (Q slapped them once and Sam nearly threw him, because in a sumerized version of Sam's opinion "that is a child and a manipulated child and what the fuck is wrong with you can't you see how much Dream has their claws on them?? We need to save them!" And Q is just like "THEY ARE THE MOST UNCOOPERATIVE PIECE OF SHIT EVER SAM!!!!! LET ME HIT THEM MORE THEY FUCKING DESERVE IT!!!" Sam in fact, does not allow this.) so yeah basically they know they have plot amor and they abuse the shit out of it. Going as far as to refuse to eat, just to be annoying. Oh they also attempt to psycho analyze Quackity because they figured out it pissed him off. Over all? Terrible awful, at their most malicious probably. But after the first day it's also very much in a "you're both terrible and I hope you bleed out in a moldy cave where you're body will be used as food for mushrooms or rats or whatever because then at least you'll have made something in the universe's existence better for once in your life :3" they also get very like... Descriptive in their wishing of death? In very gruesome and gorey ways sometimes. Like straight up describing how they would use all their organs and where they would put them. Even though they would never dismember anyone. And all that Gorey stuff they explain with a smile. It definitely makes Q and Sam question their sanity, and whether or not maybe they are a threat. Especially when after Q is being himself they respond with "you know I could probably rip your vocal cords out with my teeth.. mostly kidding Unlesssssss" it becomes clear they aren't actually going to commit acts of violence though

Anyway yeah. They are unhinged during the kidnapping. But they mostly chill out when they get to the smp

They're still trapped, a lot of their agency is still stripped but now they can do shit about it. They sneak out from bad and skeppy's on the regular, they're shit at it, but Skeppy convinces Bad that bringing them back in will just make them rebel more. This sneaking out is actually when they meet Tommy and Ghostbur as well as Techno and Phil!

When they go to live in the artic commune when Wren and Dream get to the smp things calm down again. Well you know. Not really. But kinda.

Dream's abusiveness gets worse over time, it's gradual, so Cryptid doesn't exactly get rebellious against it. they fight over it all sometimes, but they convince themself it's all normal. Or at least, even if it's not normal, it's fine.

But they do a lot of avoiding, they avoid Dream and Punz a lot in the later weeks. Just hoping that they don't get roped into anything, this of course makes things worse because it makes Dream even more worried about them attempting to leave, thus making him worse. Eventually leading up to the quackity incident.

Then of course, they run away.

One of the reasons they turn down XD is because they're afraid of him controlling them, of taking away their freedom of just being able to do what they want.

And of course in Runaway arc they have a lot of freedom, but really not much at all. They're almost constantly on the run because of the whole, being tracked thing. They don't have much of a choice at all. They just have to keep running or they'll be back where they ran from. All choices are superficial in a way beyond the choice of, go back, or keep running. And they don't see that as a choice.

When they go to Sam, they try to be firm about their boundaries. It works, for the most part. The one real thing with Sam though, is that he believes he knows best. And they really hate that about him. It doesn't come up too often, but when it does... Ooo when it does.

Going back to the artic commune, they demand they get their own cabin. (There were 4 previously, Techno's, Phil's, Ranboo's, and the one Dysfuctional family(that's just what I've been calling the Wren, Dream, Punz, Cryptid quartet) lives in(Punz is a half time resident as he has other property).) They wanted a space to themself, where they could control it and it's rules. And so they do have their own cabin. They still have their room in dysfunctional family's cabin, but they rarely use it for a while.

And oh boy when XD starts possessing them sometimes do they have feelings on the matter but this post is already way too fucking long so I'll leave all the possession stuff for another day. Sorry this was so long

(Dreaming of death is an au of the fic penpal by @calamari-minecraft-corner)

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

SYNOPSIS: Detectives are supposed to be trusted, right? So why does it feel like the one with her felt so… Hollow?

TW/s: delusional thinking, yandere tendencies, unrequited love, toxic dynamic/s, Heizou is fucked up in the head, short term isolation, pre heikazu matchup, nsfw tws include horrific imagery, body horror, arson, mutilation(?). Please dni if you are uncomfortable.

NOTE FROM HR: Happy late Valentine’s Day, miss Phitre (@a-dose-of-phitre). It seems your date went well with Heizou, but I’m rather concerned with how you’re looking right now. Is it just me, or did you plan to go with someone else?

Heizou is regarded by a lot of people for his expertise and quick wits as a detective. That in and of itself is normal, considering how he seems to excel in those aspects. However, what they don’t seem to remember about him is that he’s a bit of a trickster to the people he found… Fun to be with.

Don’t get him wrong, he likes doing it all in harmless fun. He doesn’t enjoy taking things too far if he could really help it, and to him, he didn’t want to put his recent dates through the horrific things he can do. But for some of them, they like stepping a bit too far from those boundaries he set for their sake.

One such incident is actually days before that happened. He has always wanted to save the ones he loved the most for last, since he thought that it felt more fitting to savor the time with his beloved, Kazuha.

“Oho? It seems that my partner in crime is up bright and early! And here I thought I have to get you again,” he told the woman as they met up by the park, grinning madly upon seeing her try to catch her breath. “Oh dear, relax, breathe. I’m not going to leave you behind, Febronia.”

His date, though, huffed. Catching her breath, the woman turned her head to face the cheeky detective, hitting his arm in return.

“Yeah, but not when you decided that we’d meet this far from our usual spot!”

The latter laughed once again. Oh, he knew what he did wasn’t right, but can you blame him? He wanted to play a little joke on her, and their destination would take ages if they met up in their regular area to walk there.

He’d have to blame Sara for that. She had told him he couldn’t use his motorcycle due to too many joyrides, and to add insult to injury, she confiscated it back at the agency! He couldn’t even show his face to her when it happened, and even Kazuha has told him that it was only inevitable.

The horrors, he says! All because she didn’t know how to have a sliver of fun… What a tragedy indeed.

“Well, you’d have to thank Sara for keeping my ride from me. She’s the one who told me to quit it, saying that I was only doing it for my leisure. The audacity of her to assume that I'm not even doing my job, too!”

Febronia rolled her eyes, hitting his shoulder with a scoff. It was obvious that he was simply being a drama queen, which isn't foreign to the two of them.

… Although, maybe it should have. After all, Heizou isn't always the one to act such a way, right?

“Anyways, why don't we go and see what you want to show me? If we spend too much time here, we're bound to miss whatever appointment we have for the trip.”

“Haha, right you are, my partner. Right this way!”

Arriving to their location, Febronia could tell that he has a preference with his choice of escape rooms. As a detective, he must be so keen and excited to be able to go through them, since he solves cases faster than a person can think.

Still… she did wonder if he remembered that she couldn't solve it, or to actually inform her that their venue would be so extravagant.

“Heizou, did you forget to tell me that this place would have a theme with masquerade?”

“Ah, I didn't,” he answered truthfully, snapping his fingers with a smile on his face. “Actually, I wanted to keep this as a surprise for you! After all, I've always thought about visiting a venue such as this, and we also have the appropriate attire before we head inside.”

Really now? She found it hard to believe. After all, this is the same man that knowingly hid this information from her, deeming that it isn't important. What a bother.

Still, by the sparkle in his eye, she found it hard to tell him no. It would simply be far too rude for her to turn him down when they're already at their destination.

“Okay, okay, fair enough,” Febronia answered, sighing. “I do hope you have the right outfit for us, mister detective. If you forgot about that, I'd seriously question if you want us to be shamed in there.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, patting her head with a cheeky grin. “It won't be that bad! All you need to do is just relax and have fun. After all, the outfits we'll get won't be too restricting… or even too eye-catching. I'd rather not have people stop us.”

Stop us?

“What do you mean by—”

“Anyways, here they are! Come, Watson!”

Heading inside, the masked guards simply nodded and stared at the dumbfounded date, this time out of confusion. He just cut her off, like he didn't want to hear her ask.

… What a strange predicament. She felt like something was up with him.

“Partner! Aren't you coming?”

Her eyes flitted over to the waiting Heizou, and she ran towards the entrance, ignoring the sorry looks of the masked men that followed the detective.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” she apologized to Heizou, but he simply shook his head. Holding her hand, he smiled and spoke, “It's alright. Anyway, let me lead the way.”

Walking down the empty halls, her eyes trailed down to their hands. Although hers were warm, Heizou’s felt… cold. Like there was no semblance of body heat coming out of them, or maybe he's not as warm there than other parts of his body.

Still, it made her worried. He doesn't talk much about himself, and this set of one of the many alarm bells in her head.

However, she kept quiet. She didn't want to make this awkward as is.

Arriving at the dressing room, he let her in first before he followed inside. Closing the door behind him, they were greeted with the multiple closets and drawers of clothes of all kinds: dresses, suits, gowns, and even others that aren't tied to the masquerade theme.

She reached over to one of the clothes, eyeing it then putting it on her body. It looked a bit short, so she dropped it.

“I'll go ahead and change in the bathroom,” he told her, opening the door to her left. “Just knock if you're done, okay, Watson?”

“Alright. It'll take a while before I can get dressed, so I hope you're fine with waiting.”

“Haha, I won't!”

…

It was only when he left that she turned her attention to the dresses, eyeing each and every one of them. Some were too gaudy, too revealing, and a few were just… nonsensical.

Sifting through each and every article of cloth she was given, Febronia’s brows furrowed in confusion. There were far too few that fit her taste, and it felt like she would be stuck there forever if she couldn't find something that fits her.

Then, she stops as she stares at the dress that fits her style well.

Granted, it was a pale white dress, the beading and accessories were that of crystals and golden leaves. There were even feathers that are on it, and combined with the heels and how it was tailored, it covered her enough that she could breathe but have the right places shown.

It was also not a form fitting dress, so she was relieved. The weirdest thing, though, is the veil of the mask that came with it. It was almost as though it wanted to cover her face.

Taking the dress and its mask, she looked down at the others and shrugged, turning around to put it on. The dress smelled nice, like it was freshly doused in mild perfume and washed as well.

Come to think of it, it looked cleaner than the ones she had to check. It's almost like it had been deliberately picked and hidden so she could find it.

What a strange coincidence. She felt like something isn't going so well because of how fortunate the tides have gone in her favor. Alas, it may just be a simple fluke or something of the sort.

As she discarded her original attire and put it on, she felt the weight of heaviness prior leave as it was on her body. And she was right—it fit her like a glove, and it complimented her body well. Though, looking at the colors, she's reminded of what a dove would look with it's pearly white condition.

God, I hope I don't stain this. It probably costs a fortune to even clean the slightest bit of stain here, too.

Walking to the door with her new get up and the heels that came with it (she swore she'd fall, so she needed to take her time walking in them), she knocked on the door.

Knock, knock.

“Heizou? I'm done changing! Are you done yet?”

… Nothing.

She knocked again.

Knock, knock.

“Heizou? Come on, this isn't funny.”

No response. The lights are flickering, but she paid no heed. She needed to see what was going on.

Knock, knock.

Knock, knock.

“Hey! Answer me, Heizou!”

This time, she turned the knob of the door, and was surprised that it wasn't even locked. No, she could open it.

What the hell?

Pushing the door, she rushed inside, catching a whiff of metallic and soot. Coughing, she swiped her hand so she could see and breathe clearly, and her eyes simply widened at the sight before her.

Heizou wasn't inside, but the room was up in flames. Some of the items were already burnt down, and the flames were reaching to the walls and on the door.

Stumbling out, she dashed to the exit and found that it was jammed. Febronia could only panic as the flames got out and entered the room she was inside.

“Heizou?! Heizou?!”

Slamming the door, she began to try and find something to use. Grabbing the chair, she began to slam it repeatedly, but to no avail.

Tossing it to the fire, it traveled to the clothes she discarded and it began to melt, letting the terrible stench of plastic greet her and make her wheeze. Some even traveled to where she was, touching the glass heels and plastic dress she wore.

Then, the flames got to her skin.

The pain of being burned alive was making her scream. She tried to put it down, but it went further up, making her let out cries. Some descended from below to her head, setting her hair up on fire.

The flames and plastic got to her form, to which she was only greeted with the feeling of pure and utter agony.

It hurts to be burnt alive. It was a fate she wouldn't want anyone to have, as her skin was becoming nothing but charred. And God, did it hurt. It was even worse with the plastic melting in her.

Her eyes began to bulge as she heaved, crumbling onto the ground. She needed to breathe fresh air, but all she could even get was smoke that filled her lungs.

What ripped from her throat was screams of anguish and rage, blaming the one that led her there— the damned detective, who left her for dead.

… Which was funny, for even she can't blame him. After all, had she paid attention, she would've found out the truth of the detective she's with.

Several investigators came to the scene after the locals have brought up the concern of hearing screams late at night. It had been days after the incident that led to the manor burning, and they wanted to see what was left behind.

An anonymous tipper has left them something vital to investigate, especially for the disappearance of Phitre, a lady who was last seen being with “Heizou”.

When they got to the scene of the crime, one of them leaned over to the burnt plastic that was made to be dresses and cringed at the stench. Some were not even taken care of, and it was almost like it had been taken decades ago.

However, what caught their eye was the mask laid next to a charred, disfigured and melted body. It smelled the same as it had been prior, and even when the dress melted into the skin of the victim, the mask remained pristine.

The only difference, though, are two pairs of jeweled eyes that stared right back at them, like the corpse still looked at them with disdain in their soul.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

[mean-and-rwde]

TW: suicide

Personal feelings rant about the recent episode.

If I saw this sort of episode content not even a few months ago (ESPECIALLY without a PROPER fucking warning), it would have honestly destroyed me. I was not in a good place then, and seeing how CRWBY has yet again written suicide like a good thing / solution / etc...

If they're gonna insist on writing such a heavy topic; one, they shouldn't treat it as a positive outcome; two, use a PROPER FUCKING trigger warning! Distressing themes could mean literally ANYTHING. And calling suicide a "distressing theme" is just. Awful. There's a way I'm trying to describe it, but basically, by simply calling it a distressing theme, it downplays how actually fucking serious and terrifying being / knowing someone who is suicidal.

I may not have cared much for Little, but on-screen animal death without warning? What the fuck. Not even gonna TALK about what the fuck was up with the cat and Neo. Holy fuck.

Add to all that the fact that WBY just stands there like "Oh no! Anyways, I can't do shit." and this is definitely the most insensitive writing of suicide yet. The fact that fucking YANG just STANDS THERE AND DOES NOTHING when she's Ruby's goddamn SISTER actually pisses me off.

I'm the older sibling, and let me just say that if I saw my brother depressed as fuck then outright suicidal, and I did nothing, I would literally take my own life if he were to actually do it and I just watched like :|

It brings back a thought I often had during that time: no one would care if I died, even if they saw me do it.

Which my family thankfully proved wrong, even if mom's solution was to drag my ass to the ER where they almost didn't let me go after one person talked to me for like 5 minutes when I'd been there for hours.

I can handle bloody stuff, but that's because the shows I watch often have such themes naturally. The disclaimer warning about disturbing content and the nature of said content makes the warning a lot clearer. You know you're likely gonna see some weird / fucked up shit.

RWBY isn't like that. Bloody on-screen injuries / deaths are not nearly as common. Clover's death was easily the most graphic.

Pyrrah and Penny's deaths were haunting, even if there was no blood. Penny's second death barely showed her - the only reason we know it happened is because we saw Jaune holding his sword, then there was some blood. Ironwood died as Atlas fell, without so much as taking one final shot at the main villian + Cinder. Pietro and Maria may as well be dead for all the fucks the show / mains give. I could go on, but you get the idea.

This has become a disturbing trend within the show, but this recent example has been the worst offender of not only the harmful idea that suicide is a solution / good thing, but also a vague trigger warning that does fuck all. Distressing themes does not warn of suicide, animal death, literal torture, whatever the fuck happened with Neo and the Curious Cat, etc.

I have not seen the episode(s) in question, and I don't think I will. In fact, I may drop the series altogether.

[End Rant]

[sweetdreamspootypie]

🙃

I'm flying out tomorrow

Had a good night tonight

But

Vent / processing / just capturing some of the stuff I've been thinking about

It's so strange how different my worldview is because I'm a Covid nurse

Or maybe everyone else is insane

Who is to say

TW car accident, child injury

Managed to go see the last set of cousins tonight

My aunt was like

" oh yeah last few days I've been really sick

Had a really bad flu

Still coughing actually

But we don't believe in taking to our beds for just a flu lol"

And my cousin mentioned she doesn't know when the last time she took a RAT test was. Didn't even recognize the name. Said "oh yeah that's kind of outdated"

And NOBODY I've talked to has even been aware that there are still Covid booster vaccines happening and relevant?

They only ever had the initial course of 3 or 4 and then stopped? Didn't even know that further boosters are a thing at all?

and cousin told me that you don't take time off work for Covid here because it's not considered life threatening anymore

What the fuck is wrong with england

Why would you invite guests over if you actively have the flu?

Fuck man

Like it was actually a pretty good evening and it will probably be fine

But it's just so weird seeing the increasing divide in basic values

Like yeah I value hard work and discipline and etc etc and I want to get better at it

But how do these people value self care so little?

Idk I'm just hyper aware of it as well bc of my family's thing with chronic fatigue syndrome and how precarious wellbeing is

But also stuff like

Hard work is "being responsible" because idk doing your part at work on the project or whatever

But in my line of work

If I don't rest

If I don't eat or take my breaks or I haven't been sleeping well or burn out

Then I cannot provide the healthcare to others that is needed

I've got such vivid visceral memories of standing there as I'm realizing I need to hit the medical emergency big red button, at times when I'm over tired and not feeling my best self

Feeling my words and thoughts running like treacle and just being so aware of oh shit I'm not actually up for being responsible for this right now actually

And when I'm in that state and the adrenaline hits, it just makes it worse

I can feel my heart pounding in my ears and my dehydration headache and having to muster ok I have to be reassuring and communicative and make sure I'm dexterous enough to manage a complex situation

And if I can't manage it, people get hurt

And there's a very real risk that someone gets closer to death than they needed to, or would have if I had been on the ball and my best self

The other day, on Monday

I had a coffee at 12 noon

It was a really nice rich mocha from a chocolate specialist

I'm not accustomed to caffeine any more these days, so I was awake until 4am Monday night

On Tuesday night, despite being tired, I was also awake til 3am because of the disturbance to my sleep schedule it caused

On Wednesday, I was feeling gross from the sleep disturbance. I went to my room and tried to take an afternoon nap

At 4pm on Wednesday, there was a car accident outside of our house. A car hit a 3 year old child crossing the road with his mother.

My dad came to get me because I'm a nurse and that's my job.

When he came in I was in a groggy half asleep haze

I had my shoes on and was out the door but was still carrying a head of groggy haze

The kid was fine

Someone else was checking him out, asking all the right questions

And within a couple of minutes an ambulance arrived, and got to do a further assessment

It looked like the child had a bit of a bumped knee, probably from where he fell, but was otherwise just fine

Mum with him was being a champion at visibly keeping it together until tonight after the kids are put to bed, when she'll fall apart

I was able to be there to see that it was under control and looked on until the ambulance arrived

But I was so aware that I wouldn't able to clearly speak. Wouldn't be able to project calming competence with even just the simple fact of introducing myself as a health worker available if needed

Everything was fine

But if it hadn't been

I would not have been able to fulfil my role

Because I hadn't taken proper care of myself

I'm going to remember my guilt over one badly planned coffee I had on Monday, for years

Because my job is to be the one who knows how to make it alright when everything is wrong

Why the fuck can't other people do the simple things like isolate if sick

And not expose illness to people going back to the home of their 89 year old grandmother

I don't want to live to work

I want to live well

And wellness and happiness are important values and resources

And not contradictory with working hard to make progress on goals

People need to learn to rest

I didn't realize how bad it was

[obi7199]

TW// Transphobic

I was originally going to post this on Twitter but I decided not to because I'm going to saying similar to the tweet a made a few days ago. Oh well, I'm making it fucking banger lol.

You know the Pikamee drama right, it's been on Twitter recently and that got many people's attention because she announces she was graduating from vtubing at the end of March of 2023.

Back in February, she was planning to Hogwarts Legacy but after receiving an amount of criticism, like a lot, she canceled the stream and she was just trying to have some fun. And here we are in March and do I even have to say this?

I don't even I had to put it, but some people, all of which are vtubers/anime fans decided to turn a blind eye and blame it on the trans community. Not only they were harassing them, but they also sent death threats, doxing, wishing self-harm because of their identity, making transphobic jokes like the 41% rate (and if you know, you already know), and many, many more stuff. It's like I'm noticing a pattern here and here cuz hear me out, I don't think she'll not like these people for doing this action.

I have been reporting tweets left and right, hoping they'll get their account locked down or suspended since they were violating the site's TOS. But this is painfully slow and it would take days, weeks, or even an entire month to approve that violation, due to Elon Musk laying off 10% of staff who are working for the company.

Since this is long, I have some advice for you, don't blame the trans community, don't blame people who are trans, don't blame people who aren't straight, and don't blame people with different races, religions, or gender, etc. You can only blame the people who harassed her.

Harassing their identity doesn't mean it's good or cool, that's hatred. And I almost forgot that doxxing people while using VPN doesn't lead to "I can do whatever I want" or "at least I'm safe from arrested" stick, the FBI or the government will find you down and arrest you since they'll ask the VPN community for their location or their whereabouts.

It's sound like I'm nitpicking this or that, but please, for the love of God, listen to me:

For people who are bigoted or sent hate towards trans people: Fuck you, I already mentioned before.

For people who harassed this vtuber: Shame on you.

For people isn't a part of these two types of people, just like me: Cool, quite trust you too because this is the end of the story.

And I'm going to say that Pikamee is great, especially the trans community, but for people is who transphobic or that guy who harassed this vtuber, aren't welcome.

UPDATE #1 (04/27/2023): The reason why Pikamee decided graduate, wasn't because of backlash and harassment to play HL cuz it was happens a few months before the harassment no no no, it was the passing of her family member, which negatively affect her mental health, this is is why she decided leave the vtubing scene.

If your saying that I'm wrong, go find me irl and come talk to my face cuz you haven't follow her personal life before this harassment. Now put your pitchfork down and don't talk shit about it, I'm warning you. If these people decided to go and harass me, might as well as report these people and hope they can learn their lesson.

UPDATE #2 (09/12/2023): She's back, now under a different persona and it's Henya. I didn't updated sooner because I was done for this thing until I did. She's on VShojo rn and go support her. She stream on Twitch and I think this is the same person. Oh yeah, I follow her.