#Tumblr killed it. I know nothing but suffering in my life

[kyouka-supremacy]

I am totally pushing the aku top of the school agenda HOWEVER this mf would pop a vein before tutoring anyone (teaching math would end up in murder)

I swear I am extremely fascinated by and genuinely interested to understand what prompts this fairly spread perception of smart Akutagawa because I really can't see it.

Akutagawa is THE flawed character of the franchise. He has barely any redeemeing qualities. His being a ruthless, mindless dog, a beast, an animal is a central theme of his character: he's one of the most inhuman characters, no rationality, no emotions. It only makes sense he'd also be lacking in intellect, one of the most intrinsically human qualities, right? Let's also keep in mind that when it comes to intelligence, he was specifically trained since a very early age so that he wouldn't develop any critical thinking skill or wisdom. He was appositely built to be an executor, never a thinker. A killing machine, a mindless beast. He was made to be a tool, not a person. He is the very epitome of irrationality- and that much shows in everything he does! There's plenty canon evidence to support it. His actions are never guided by preliminary thoughts, he just acts on instinct, akin to an animal. He will kill his target in chapter 4 although his mission is specifically not to, he will barge into a building full of security guards right through the front door without even ordering his subordinates to offer support, he will go rogue and storm into the Moby Dick destroying everything in his path no matter the consequences, he will naïvely jump off a balcony to catch a repetitor just because his worst enemy said it had Dazai-san on the line- do I have to continue? His whole character is exclusively driven either by orders, or by instinct and irrationality. Guys, it would have been SO MUCH EASIER if upon seeing Ranpo's message Akutagawa had just took out his phone and gone “hey Chuuya-san, it's likely we've found the mastermind and the whole thing will be solved here at this place, can you come over one second?”. But he didn't, and it's not simply a matter of suspension of disbelief (in the way that the events are more satisfying this way). Was it for his pride then? Indeed, but Akutagawa's pride and irrationality are in a perpetual concomitant relationship of cause and effect, where one is constantly born from the other. I do think his very simple and straight-forward objectives (1. kill the Jinko 2. be acknowledge by Dazai-san 3. die) are themselves expression of his simple mindset, and so is a certain naïvety he has, that I honestly wish more people took into account when characterizing him.

It's funny because, the thematic relevance of it is the whole point- in reality, I don't think there's such a thing as a stupid person, I firmly believe everyone has their own kind of intelligence, a field each of us excells in. But it's exactly because Akutagawa isn't a person (well. in this context at least), but a character, that one can push a characteristic to its extremes in order to make it symbolic of something, in order to make an archetype out of his character. And Akutagawa at his core is irrationality, he is Dazai's failed trainee and ugliest foil, he is the ultimate pawn, he is the beast. The fact that Akutagawa is a character– it's relevant. He's not a person, he's a vassel for themes. I can dare to rudely talk about him like he was an animal because it's the narrative itself that before anyone else pushes the reader to see him in a dehumanizing way. Akutagawa once literally tore the skin off a man's neck with his teeth effectively killing them. It's quite not simple dog coding anymore lol. But he's just a dude from a book really, he's just symbolism: and that's why he can become a dog, or a pawn, or the stupidest person of Yokohama, as the author or reader pleases. It's really not that deep ahah

I can guess a possible counterpoint would be that perhaps, in a universe where he wasn't subject to the slums and Dazai's abuse such as high schools aus, Akutagawa would get his chance to be witty? But then I can't help but think, if you don't make Akutagawa stupid... Aren't you taking a fundamental trait of his character away from him? What's left of Akutagawa then? What would be the point of reading, let's say, a sskk high school fic if you can't recognize Akutagawa in it? But then again I guess this is exactly the reason why I can't bring myself to like most of alternative universe bsd fics (╥﹏╥)

Also, ultimately, there *are* personal preference components to it. In my headcanon Akutagawa has autism / adhd, and although those don't always have a negative impact on one's academic results, there is a chance they do. And I'd honestly lean towards that chance more when it comes with Akutagawa, because he is the pathetic man that has everything going wrong for him. There's symptoms in his impulsivity and scarce self-control, and I believe they'd make school life very hard for him, especially when it comes to focusing in classes and for studying- which is fitting tbh, can you imagine Akutagawa ever having a happy life? (I'm jk I swear I love him)

Besides, I must have mentioned how one of the main appeals of sskk for me is how despite being thoroughly flawed people they can still be loved. It's surprisingly comforting to think that even the most evil of people can be loved, and it's the same when it comes for stupidity. Stretching Akutagawa's flaws just makes him more symphatetic and enjoyable to read about.

[benzodiazepinica]

Alexandre Bissonnette edit + infopost

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The edit is for you to see some photos of him!

I want to say I don't support any actions !!

My content is because I love true crime and political cases ~~

if I like the person is for him/her personality, appearance or manner. But I do not support hate crimes or murders

Event summary

Alexandre Bissonnette, 27, entered a mosque armed with a pistol and killed 6 men, injuring 19 more, one of the victims was left paraplegic for the rest of his life

Family, social life, curiosities

Bissonnette has a twin brother with whom he shared an apartment four miles from his parents' house. But Alexandre Bissonnette often slept at his parents' house on weekends.

He was Canadian, born and raised in Quebec City. He was always described as a simple and ordinary man. Bissonnette had already taken antidepressants, but it was stated that his mental state had absolutely no influence on the crime, as he was considerably stable and fully conscious.

He had a Facebook page and also a Tumblr page, where he posted about his daily life, food, etc. However, on Facebook, he made a lot of political comments. Emails from Alexandre and his father were also found that spoke negatively about Muslims. Many people believe that Alexandre received this prejudiced upbringing from home. He and his father used to practice shooting at an outdoor range and Alexandre would often hang out with old friends. However, he did not have a girlfriend, and was described as a shy and somewhat introverted man.

The father, and also Alexandre himself on social media, stated about the problems the boy had with alcohol. However, according to a blog by Bissonnette, he had stopped drinking because, according to him, it "is very bad for your health!" and he reported, with these words, that he was "very happy about it!" However, even with this abstinence from alcohol, the shooter told the authorities that he drank sake the entire day of the massacre.

Security camera footage from a depanneur shows Alexandre Bissonnette buying a drink minutes before the Quebec City mosque attack on January 29, 2017

"Throughout his life, until January 29, Alexander had never demonstrated violent behavior in words or actions toward anyone. "Alexander is the last person we, and all those who know him, could imagine doing something so out of character," Alexander's father said.

Bissonnette was a political science student at Université Laval in Quebec City. He also works and had a steady job, but was on three weeks' leave when the shooting happened. Alexandre had a history of bullying, probably because he was quiet and reserved, but this did not seem to have a direct impact on the case. In any case, he was described as an "ordinary" man.

about the bullying he suffered his father said: "Realizing that nothing was getting better, Alexandre simply stopped mentioning it to us. I can't tell you how much I regret not doing more to make sure Alexandre was safe at school."

In 2014, Bissonnette was introduced to firearms by a friend. He went on to apply for a license, falsely reporting that he had no history of mental health issues or suicidal thoughts. Over the next few years, he would legally acquire six guns.

Bissonnette told psychologists during interviews that he had always had thoughts about mass shootings. Interestingly, Alexandre was fascinated by the Columbine Massacre.

Alexandre had also thought about carrying out a massacre in a shopping mall, carrying weapons in his bag and everything, but he gave up.

ideologies and thoughts about Islamists

Alexandre was an actively political person in his speeches and discourses. He seemed to be very interested in the subject, and it was no wonder that he was studying Political Science. However, Bissonnette's political positions always leaned towards a more extreme side, related to violence. He was a nationalist, but a nationalist who preached the unity of white people only. He also supported Marine Le Pen's party in France and Donald Trump in the United States. He frequently posted on his Facebook page against immigrants, against pro-immigrant policies, against Muslims and against feminists.

Historical context of the city and the mosque

Before talking about the massacre, it is essential to talk a little about the state of mind of the city and the mosque that suffered the attack.

Quebec City has always had questionable positions on ethnicity, immigration and Islam. The mosque has previously suffered an Islamophobic attack, in which a pig's head was placed on the mosque and a note reading "Bon appétit" in French (the local language).

The Quebec City mosque mass shooting on January 29, 2017

In the month leading up to the shooting, Bissonnette was on leave from his job at Héma-Québec with an anxiety disorder following an altercation with a co-worker. During this month, he obsessively visited the Twitter accounts of several right-wing media personalities, including Tucker Carlson, Laura Ingraham, David Duke, Alex Jones, Mike Cernovich, Richard B. Spencer, and Kellyanne Conway. Bissonnette checked Ben Shapiro's Twitter account 93 times in the month leading up to the shooting. He was also on leave from his university political science program. He was scheduled to return to work the day after the shooting. During his free time, he regularly visited Islamophobic websites and searched the web for information about mass shooters.

When Alexandre Bissonnette heard about Justin Trudeau’s famous tweet welcoming refugees to Canada, the frail-looking 28-year-old political science student told police he went crazy. A few hours after watching a television report suggesting that Canada would accept immigrants rejected by President Trump

On the day of the shooting, Alexandre spent the day drinking and finishing his research on mass murders, immigration and Islamic terrorism, including checking news reports on crimes committed by Muslims in the country. That night, he went to his parents’ house for dinner and then sat in a corner, fiddling with his computer. At 7 p.m., he left the house armed with a 9 mm pistol and a Czech semi-automatic rifle of .223 caliber. He left home in his parents' car, saying he was going to practice shooting. At 7:37 p.m., he hesitated to continue shooting, so he went into a store and drank some vodka. Then, afraid of being seen carrying a large weapon, he decided to return to the mosque to carry out the attack.

He arrived at the mosque around 7:53 or 7:54 p.m. Outside, there were two brothers, at whom he pointed the rifle, which failed, jamming. Alexander appeared relaxed, smiling, throwing the rifle on the ground and pulling out his pistol. He fired several shots at both of them, in the arms and abdomen, then got close and shot the brothers in the head, with the pistol pressed against them.

Two more mosque worshippers announced that there was a shooter, and chaos soon broke out. Alexandre entered the room, firing ten shots, then reloaded. Bissonnette re-entered the prayer hall. He would fire 30 shots in 30 seconds during the second wave, and would target mainly people trying to take cover.

Aymen Derbali, crouched near the gunman, attempted to distract him from the busier areas of the mosque by staggering toward him, but was shot in the knee and chin.[31] As Derbali fell and crawled on the ground, Bissonette shot him 6 more times, but Derbali would survive.[32] Bissonnette then targeted 44-year-old Aboubaker Thabti, murdering him at close range with three shots to the skull.

The gunman returned a second time to the lobby to reload his weapon, then returned to the prayer hall and killed some of the worshippers who were already wounded and others who were wounded. He then pocketed a bullet, intending to take his own life in a nearby forest, and then left the mosque at 7:57 p.m.

According to an initial report, a man who came forward as a witness said that two assailants dressed in black and with a Quebecois accent entered the mosque and shouted "Allahu Akbar" before opening fire. Police later determined that there was only one shooter, and that was Alexandre.

Later, at 8:10 p.m., Alexandre Bissonnette called emergency services (911) and turned himself in.

Alexandre Bissonnette was sentenced to life in prison for the 2017 Quebec mosque attack. He was originally scheduled to serve 40 years before being eligible for parole. However, in 2020, the Quebec Court of Appeal reduced that sentence to 25 years, ruling that 40 years without the possibility of parole constituted cruel and unusual punishment. In 2022, the Supreme Court of Canada upheld that decision, maintaining his eligibility for parole after 25 years. Therefore, Bissonnette will be eligible for parole in 2042.

Victims

The six murder victims were Ibrahima Barry (39, an IT employee for the Quebec government), Mamadou Tanou Barry (42, an accounting technician), Khaled Belkacemi (60, a professor at Laval University), Aboubaker Thabti (44, a pharmacy technician), Abdelkrim Hassane (41, a computer analyst for the Quebec government) and Azzedine Soufiane (57, a grocery store owner).

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 44

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: The Ruins Of Desire.

Notes: Btw, sorry about the unupdated masterlist. I keep bumping into a strange limit that tumblr set and will have to fix it somehow.

!!!Special Warnings for this chapter: Contains a brief spicy(?) part.

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  44/47

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You had to search the castle grounds for Lancelot, finding him only when thinking of what could bring him some comfort. In the stables he stood by Goliath, brushing the horse’s coat with some straw. He seemed not too happy to see that you had found him, preferring to have been left alone.

You kept some distance. “She could have killed you.”

It did not sit well with you at all that he had handed over his sword and was prepared to die if the Fey had chosen it as his fate. It hurt.

His tone was distant and bordered on being dismissive. “I needed to know what I was facing. If they wished to see me dead, I prefer to know it instead of spending every hour of the day looking over my shoulder.”

You shook your head, feeling a pinch of anger at how he had put himself at such risk. “And if she had killed you, I would have had to watch it happen.”

His response was colder, “You should have stayed outside the room, as I suggested.”

It was obvious he was trying to push you away, to wallow in his remorse alone. But you could be as persistent as he was.

Your anger spilled out as you spoke, “Forgive me for loving you so much that I wasn’t going to let you walk in there alone. I am sorry for believing that you cared enough about us to not put yourself willingly at the risk of death. Next time I should just close my eyes and ignore how simple it is for you to put down your life like you have nothing to fight for!”

He was taken aback by the outburst. “You do not understand.”

You took a few steps closer. “I understand perfectly. You were raised to believe that suffering will ultimately bring salvation, and so you seek it out to try and silence the guilt you feel.”

His gaze dropped to the ground at your feet, letting you know your assumption was correct.

You came to a halt right in front of him. “You can let your remorse destroy you. Or you can show the same dedication to helping the Fey that you showed to the scriptures. The only true salvation for any of us is to find peace within ourselves.”

He moved past you slowly, taking seat atop a bale of hay. Head in his hands tilted towards the ground. “I never meant to cause you distress. I… it is hard for me to believe that there could be a day when I no longer feel that I must apologize for merely breathing.”

“That day will come. I promise you that.” You sat down beside him. “I fear for you, Lancelot. And I cannot stand to see how you believe you deserve pain more than you deserve all else.”

He remained silent, lost in the storm that threatened to take over his thoughts once more. What had been said to him by that woman had devastated him, tore right into his being and struck his weakest spot.

You rubbed his back for a while, aiming to comfort the pain under the surface. “I’m sorry for getting angry. It just scared me to death to see it happen.”

He sat up more, taking your hand in his. “I believe I would have responded much the same way.”

Gently you touched the red mark on his cheek that the slap had caused, softly you brushed your lips to the spot. He exhaled unsteadily, tilting his head just a little to brush his nose over yours. When you leaned back a little, he was quick to copy what you had done. His lips came to your cheek, hand cupping your other and brushing his thumb over it. He lingered and you heard the whispers of the Hidden before your markings rose to the surface. Quickly you put a hand on his chest to push him back just a little.

“How did you do that?” You were stunned.

He cocked a brow. “Do what?”

You didn’t believe that he had not just used his connection to the Hidden to lure your markings to the surface. “You made my markings appear…”

There was a timid look in his eyes, one he tried to hide by tilting his head down a bit. “I did not think that the Hidden would listen to my wish so well.”

You tilted your head down as well, still having to get used to the fact that you didn’t need to hide them.

He brought his lips to your other cheek, kissing the other mark. Whispering against it, “I love them. They bring out your eyes.”

You were undeniably flustered and failed to make proper eye-contact. Your markings slowly hid back under your skin when he let go of you.

He stood up, letting out a deep breath. “I am going to see if Arthur needs someone to come along to the village.”

By the look he shared, it was clear that he hoped to get out of the castle for a moment to clear his head and hoping you’d understand.

“A good idea.” you said.

“I will see you tonight then? At supper?” He was hopeful.

You rose from the hay, stepping closer to him. “Of course.”

The light in his eyes had not yet fully returned and still he mustered up a small smile just for you. He gave your hand a light squeeze before walking out of the stables.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Rain descended down upon Lancelot’s head and by the sight of the sky he could tell that if the group did not find shelter soon, they would arrive back at the castle in soaked clothes.

It was Arthur’s idea to seek shelter in the inn of the village. Kaze had been more determined to just ride back to the fort in the gushing rain but fortunately Gareth had carefully convinced her not to. It came as no surprise to Lancelot that ale would be part of the evening once those of Red’s crew stepped into the inn.

He kept himself a little away from the others at the large table, a wise idea as the crew had a tendency to spill ale all over the place and some of it got awfully close to his sleeve as his arm rested on the table. One of the crew proved foolishly brave to try and charm Kaze by trying to lean a little closer to her, he prevented this amicable evening from turning into a blood bath by making the man sit upright again and away from Kaze who looked seconds away from murder. It was perhaps a small thing, but he could have sworn she looked appreciative of his interference.

Arthur took a moment to compliment everyone on being able to work together well enough to build a new future for the Fey.

“We couldn’t have done it without the Ash Man’s help.” Gareth surprisingly pointed out between sips of ale.

Lancelot almost stared at him, a mistake as he could see the gears in Gareth’s head start to turn.

“That is true.” Arthur concurred, looking at him. “If you hadn’t broken that curse, we would still have been looking for a place to live and those are sown thin in the land these days.”

He barely knew how to respond to the acknowledgment. “I did what had to be done.”

Gareth chuckled. “Don’t be so modest. Say, now that we are among men-” Kaze send him a glare and he corrected himself, “-and Kaze of course, mind if we speak more freely?”

“I mind.” he deadpanned, sensing where this was heading.

Gareth retorted, “Oh come on, Lancelot. We’re all curious here about you.”

“I’m not.” Kaze chimed in coolly.

Arthur sided with Gareth on this. “I can’t say that I’m not just a little curious to hear what it’s like to have been a monk.”

“Indeed.” Gareth said. “Go on. What was the clergy like for you?”

Lancelot leaned back against his chair, trying not to show that it bothered him to be put in the center of attention by the group. “It was strict.”

Arthur poked further, “Strict? You mean the rules you had to follow? No sinning, no ale too?”

He gave a nod. “Yes. But there was more. We followed orders as soldiers would, or faced the consequences of refusing.”

Gareth went ahead and ruined his mood. “And there is the vow of celibacy as well.”

“He’s married.” Arthur pointed out.

Gareth stuck his nose in matters that were not his. “To the Church a marriage is only valid if it was consummated. Ask any of the clergy and they will tell you the same. So our friend here must have some story he can share with us about the first time he indulged in the desires of the flesh.”

Lancelot sat frozen, hoping his eyes or expression gave nothing away to the rest of the table.

An unconsummated marriage was indeed not considered a valid one by many. It had not bothered him until now, now that they could claim it as invalid if they knew.

Arthur very carefully inquired, “Was your wife the first?”

His tensed up, refusing to meet any of the curious eyes staring at him. “I believe that is none of your concern.”

Arthur knew right away not to press on, he had heard the warning in the Ash Man’s tone. But the one who had annoyed Kaze earlier, now decided to annoy him.

The man sounded lighthearted. “He doesn’t want to tell us, doesn’t want us to tell her he’s probably had a dozen before her.” He nudged him with his elbow. “Maybe she’s had a dozen of her own, eh? Nothing wrong with that-”

Lancelot rose from the chair, seeing how half the table flinched in response. His jaw was set, amicably or not he would not let his intimate affairs be used as a topic of conversation among the group.

Kaze sensed his anger and to his surprise she got up as well. “We head back now. Before the rain returns.”

It was not up for debate, they could tell. Lancelot gave her a discreet grateful nod. He ignored how they mumbled amongst each other while avoiding all eye-contact with him as they got up and went towards the exit of the inn.

Arthur however proved less cowardly. “I’m sorry, Lancelot. I was not asking to make you uncomfortable. You’ve just lived such a different life from mine and I was curious.”

The apology calmed him down only because he could tell that it was genuine. “I believe you. But you must understand that I do not find it proper to speak of these matters like this.”

“Because it’s a sin?” Arthur wondered.

“No.” He almost rolled his eyes. “Because it is not proper.”

Arthur held his hands up in defeat but did manage to smile. “Fine then. Keep your secrets.”

The Manblood kept smiling, even under the Ash Man’s glare.

If only they knew the turmoil they had caused him by reminding him what a lack of consummation meant for a marriage. He did not want to keep thinking about it, but it had set it’s claws in him. No wedding, no vows, a ring that took far too long to be placed on your finger, and now this….

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Supper came. Supper passed. Your will to eat had been absent just like Lancelot was. Even Gawain was starting to get nervous by the time passing without a sign of Arthur, Lancelot, Kaze, Gareth and the few of Red’s crew that had gone with them. Perhaps they had sought shelter from the rain for a while somewhere, perhaps that was why they were so late. Or maybe they had run into thieves again and they were in trouble. You had voiced your concerns to the Green Knight.

    ~“Try not to be alarmed yet. We will wait a little longer and if they have not returned then we will go and search for them.”~

    But you were too worried to keep waiting, the sun had gone down already. You went to the stables to ready Bear for the ride. A sound coming from outside halted you, it sounded like… singing? You went outside and felt relief wash over you at the sight of Lancelot and the others returning. Those of Red’s crew were singing some sea shanty that could wake the whole castle from it’s beginning slumber and Arthur was participating, it only stopped when Kaze told them, not so politely, to keep quiet.

“You have been singing since we set foot in that inn.” Lancelot remarked to one of them who grumbled something unkind about her that Kaze was unable to hear. “Our ears are pleading for rest from it.”

You were walking up to them, locking eyes on Lancelot who looked content to be back. You watched as he reached down and caught your hand just as it reached up for him. “Did you run into trouble?”

His mood seemed a little better. “None at all. Arthur decided we shelter at the inn and waited for the rain to pass or lessen.”

You tried to figure out if the change in his mood had something to do with that. “Ah, enjoyed some ale?”

He scoffed a little. “They enjoyed it. I found that the taste resembles that of a polluted river.”

You whispered up at him, scolding him for his bluntness. “We can’t all be so fortunate to drink the Church’s wine.”

The others went on towards the stables, while he had come to a halt. With a mischievous smirk he gave your hand a little tug.

“Mount.” he said.

You let him help you up to be seated in front of him. “Why put me on your horse so close to the stables?”

He hummed amused. “I could ride into the stables, or I could take you away into the woods.”

Boldly his hand glided down from your hip to curve around your thigh, there was a blatant attempt to slide it further to touch your rear. You turned to look at his face, taking a whiff to see if he was truly not influenced by ale. The scent was there but it was very, very vague and almost faded. Some could have just spilled on him, or the scent of the ale in the inn lingered on his clothes.

He knew that discreet way of smelling a person but all too well. “I must say that I find it quite exciting to see you smell me. Once, I caught you smelling my clothes, do you remember that time? Even though I could not show it, it exhilarated me to see how you looked so tempted by the scent of me.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, especially because he had said it in the deeper tone he could reach. “I remember. You were still a monk back then, you had to behave.”

He put his chin on your shoulder. “It was difficult to behave proper when I saw how aroused your eyes looked back at me just from my scent.”

You got very quiet. He seemed different tonight, bolder, braver. His breath ghosted hotly against the side of your neck.

Your voice was only a whisper, “Are you aware of how lustful you behave now?”

He flashed that boyish smile, but this time his eyes were less innocent. “I am aware.”

“Did that ‘polluted river water’ cause you to speak like this?” you jested nervously.

He was quick to respond, “No. The sight of my lovely wife does.”

To his dismay, Gawain was approaching, coming straight towards the two of you. You heard him sigh behind you when you dismounted from Goliath.

He dismounted as well, offering the reins of Goliath. “Could you bring him to the stables for me?”

You could tell that Gawain was there to talk to him. “Of course.”

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~◇~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Not much later, you were preparing for bed. Just as you had taken off and put down your bodice, Lancelot entered your shared room.

He took off his cloak and put it down on the dresser, then spoke to you whilst he took off his weapons belts. “Gawain informed me that there is a blacksmith among the Fey who arrived here. We will attempt to use the forge soon. According to Merlin we may never forge a weapon like the sword, but we will be able to forge weapons of great strength.”

You stepped closer. “That’s good, is it not? And we can make armor.”

Carefully he put down the sword against the dresser. Nodding. “We are in great need of good armor. And in even greater need of people who know how to fight, especially now that Gawain wishes to continue seeking Fey who are forced to flee their homes.”

You hummed. “Gareth once told me that Gawain searched for the Fey to take them to safety. It is no surprise that he wishes to continue that noble cause.”

He tried not to show that it caused him stress. “A noble cause that we can only continue if we have enough people to do so. This fort needs to be guarded, the lands surrounding us must be kept under watch as well. These searches for Fey can only continue if we have enough people helping us.”

You sensed his concern. “I am certain that those who have arrived will wish to help. The Fey will stand together. Surely some must know how to wield a sword or other weapon.”

He turned to you. “There is something I must tell you. Gawain has requested that I will guide the Fey in the skill of battle. He hopes I can show them how to defend themselves and how to stand their ground in a battle.”

“And what did you tell him?” you asked.

He walked past you to the wash basin, splashing some water in his face. “I gave him my word that I would take on the task if the Fey allow me to.”

It was a big step forward for him, a chance to find his place among his people. You were glad to hear it. “You fear they will not?”

“I have my doubt,” he admitted.

“All will be well.” You went up to him, giving some encouragement whilst reaching around him. Your arms wrapped around his low abdomen to hold him close while you placed your head to rest against his back. “I have faith in you.”

Instantly he straightened his back and stretched his neck. A shudder went through him and he couldn’t help but smile that charming smile. Then he blurted out, “He knighted me.”

You spoke against his back, “What?… Who? Gawain?”

He gave a nod. “Yes. For saving Percival. For my desire to protect the Fey… I am not certain I deserve the honor.”

You let go of him when he turned to face you. “Who are we to argue with a knight on that, hm? I think Gawain made a good decision.”

He went towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it. “It is just all so much. Everyone is putting their faith in me and I fear failing them.”

You could see his eyes grow distant, his thoughts lost in the war of his conscience. Without a word, you approached and began to help him out of his jerkin. He glanced up at your face, at how focused and patient you were with the belts that held his jerkin shut.

“I know you are afraid.” You gently took the leather off of him. “It’s normal to be worried when faced with such responsibilities. But I know you, Lancelot. I know that you are a very capable man and Gawain knows this too. A lot has happened. Much has changed for you, it’s normal to be overwhelmed, your whole life is different. Just know that you’re not alone in this. You saw how even Percival ran over to protect you.”

His eyes locked on yours, a nod. “Thank you. For listening.” A bitter chuckle fell from him. “When I tried to speak to Father about my concerns or problems he just dismissed them.”

You gave his chest a playful pat. “I won’t dismiss my husband.”

“Oh?” A tempting smile grew upon his lips.

You crawled onto the bed, taking place behind him to massage the tension out of his shoulders. He leaned into the touch instantly. You gently kneaded at his shoulders, easing the tension in them. His eyes fell shut, his breathing slowed down.

He loved your gentle touch, the warmth of your hands tending to the muscles that were suffering under the strain of the work he had done. But it was new even for him that such an innocent caring touch could awaken not so innocent desires.

Suddenly he let out a sound that you mistakenly believed to be from discomfort. Your hands halted immediately. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to put some salve on your scars again?”

His answer came delayed. “I won’t decline that offer.”

It took you only a few seconds to dart for your satchel, the healers had been generous to supply everyone with some medicinal items. You bit back a grin when he took off his shirt without a word from you. The salve smelled quite good, a faint flowery smell. He did not wince once as you smeared it onto his back.

His thoughts trailed back to earlier. “In the inn tonight, none of them treated me as the ‘Weeping Monk’. I never thought it could be like this.”

“I’m glad to see that you and Arthur did not kill each other.” you said. “What did you talk about?”

Conversation, that did not include strategy for battle, was still a point he needed to work on. “I do not want to upset you.”

You went to sit beside him and put down the bowl of salve on the nightstand, trying not to jump to bad conclusions. “Lancelot.”

He weighed his words. “Some were curious about our marriage. They had questions and I believe the ale made them brave enough to ask them.”

Your eyes narrowed at how uncomfortable he was beginning to sound. “What sort of questions?”

He began to fidget with his hands, a tell-tale sign that he was struggling to find the right way to say it. “They asked if you were the first… and about the consummation. Among other matters.”

You winced, realizing how uneasy he must have felt to have been questioned about it. Your voice grew quiet, “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

He glanced over at you. “Why should I speak of such intimate matters with others? I do not know if I can trust them with it.”

It was no surprise that he wouldn’t let others pressure him into answering questions he did not want to answer. But still, you got the feeling that it bothered him.

You caressed his shoulder. “What is it? There is something bothering you, I can see it.”

“It’s nothing.” he said, shutting the door to the truth.

You wouldn’t push him for an answer when he was clearly not feeling at ease about the topic. “Alright, well… If you don’t mind I will finish washing up so I don’t ruin our clean sheets already.”

He chuckled at that. “Ruin…”

You kicked off your boots and went up to the wash basin, grabbing one of the rags to use. “You know what I mean.”

Seeing you take your boots off reminded him to take his own off too. After that he got up from the bed, eyes glued to the way the wet rag moved over your neck.

You had hoped to wash thoroughly, but there was no opportunity for privacy in the room and you didn’t want to create an uncomfortable situation for him to be in again. So you tried to wash properly without taking your shirt or trousers off. It felt odd to still feel uncertain about these matters, to have to blindly search were the line was for him so you didn’t accidentally do something he wasn’t ready to experience yet. He approached and nearly fell over your boots, kicking them aside to prevent an accident. You gave him an apologetic sheepish smile for it.

He came up behind you, snaked his arms around you, kissing your shoulder before resting his head on it, not bothering to hide that he was inhaling deeply.

“Are you smelling me?” You couldn’t ignore it.

There was no shame in him about it anymore. “We both know how strong that urge is in our kind.”

You rinsed the rag in the washbasin to continue using it. “If I smell like sweat, it is because I am not able to wash properly.”

“Why not?” he asked.

It was part a jest and part honesty, “I don’t know how you would respond seeing me half-bare all of a sudden. Don’t want you to face the fear of damnation so late in the day.”

By the look on his face, he saw right through the jest. He stole the damp rag from your hand. “There is a solution.”

He didn’t turn you around. You felt him snake his hand under the back of your shirt, the rag came into contact with your bare back.

“We can compromise.” He whispered close to your temple, “If you are so kind to protect my soul, I will be kind and protect your modesty.”

You couldn’t form words when he began to basically wash you at the washbasin, steering your arms to make it easier for him. It didn’t end at your back, no, he continued at your lower abdomen and worked his way up. Well, late in the evening or not, this Ash Man was not so protective of his soul. He spend more attention to your bosom than a wash truly needed. That gentleness, the braveness combined with timidness, he was such a mixture of everything that you had to think of other things before it would leave you with pent up desire.

He was still learning of course, but he was very much pretending not to be aware of what this was causing. “Do you like this?”

He gingerly moved the rag under your breast and cupped you with only some of the rag between his palm and your skin.

“You’re practically fondling me.” It was a statement.

True. It was quite erotic to him to feel your damp skin, the shape of your breast… He would let his soul burn to experience this intimate moment.

He hummed, unable to deny the truth of what he was doing. But he continued the task you had tried to spare his eyes from, he turned it into a pleasant bonding moment and traced his lips slowly over your neck.

He did not have to see anything, feeling was enough, hearing your breathing stutter. All he saw was your flustered expression, a certain timidness and innocence that made you evade his gaze. On purpose he breathed out near your ear and felt you shiver. The haze of lust had descended upon him and made him bolder.

He slowly sank his hand into the front of your trousers, moving the rag right down between your legs and teasing it over you. “You respond so well to my ‘fondling’.”

You grabbed hold on his arm around you. “Practising, are you?”

He changed the angle and moved the rag more into you, increasing the friction with a purpose in mind. “I find it very rewarding to see the results of my dedicated practise with the guidance from a willing tutor.”

You jolted at the stimulation it caused. “Lancelot-”

“You asked me what was bothering me.” His mouth grazed your earlobe. “It bothers me how I have failed to consummate our marriage, to many it would mean the marriage is void.”

The puzzle fell into place. Realization hit. “Is that what they told you in the inn?”

“Gareth was right to bring it to my attention.” His lips touched your temple. “Now I can rectify the situation.”

Rectify… as if it was wrong… and now after some foolish remark he wanted to…

“No.” You squirmed out of his hold, stepping away from him.

He looked so lost, as if your response had pushed him onto a frozen lake with ice breaking all around him. “What have I done?”

“You were trying to bed me tonight… that is why you’re doing this… why you acted the way you did upon your return…” It all fell into place and became clear. “You’re doing this because Gareth told you that our marriage would not be true without a consummation?”

His mouth fell slightly open, quickly he put the rag down and tried to step closer only to stop when you held up a hand to halt him. “That is not…”

You saw him falter and fall quiet. “I do not want to sleep with you if you’re only doing it because some idiot is trying to make you believe it is the ‘right’ thing to do.” You held your hand up, showing him the ring around your finger. “We are wed, Lancelot. Having to consummate for a marriage to be valid is in the scriptures… isn’t it?”

He couldn’t even make eye-contact. It had not just been Gareth’s stupid remark… it was also the scriptures still attempting to seize control over his life.

“You would have regretted it.” you quietly said. It took him a moment to reply and you felt ill at the thought that he felt he needed to rush himself. “I’d never forgive myself if I’d sleep with you and you’re pushing yourself to do it.”

He heard the emotion threaten to overtake your voice, and as you went to pass him to go towards what he feared to be the door, he caught you by the elbow. “I would never regret it.”

There was a hint of anger in his tone, as if it had insulted him to insinuate it. Instinctively you send him the same frustrated glare back.

He did not let go, no, with a tug he got you so close your elbow bumped into his chest. “It is true that the scriptures demand a marriage be consummated to be valid. But we have proven that to be a lie too, have we not?” His eyes pierced into yours. “It is not Gareth’s foolery, nor the scriptures, that makes me long to lay with you!”

It was said so loud that you feared those in the rooms nearby had heard. “Will you please keep your voice down?!”

He let go, letting you slip through his fingers, watching as you paced the room a little. You were trying to find something to look busy, something to focus on to not crumble under the intensity of his eyes on you. You found your distraction in the form of lighting a candle on the nightstand with the one that was on the dresser.

He had gotten closer again, lightly brushing his hand over your back to try and have your attention back. You turned around to face him, hating how the mood had so suddenly turned.

He cupped your face, wishing to chase away the sadness in your eyes. “You were right to reject me when uncertain of my true thoughts regarding it.”

You did understand the reason behind his trail of thought. “I know you struggle to accept that we didn’t have a choice and that we lost out on everything regarding our wedding. But I love you, and as long as you love me than it doesn’t matter whether we consummate or not. You are my husband, you will always be my husband.”

You blinked, and then his lips were on yours. With no warning they seized control over you, promising you everything you could wish for and soothing every buried fear. He was as gentle as he could still be when kissing with a fiery passion that almost keeled you over.

He parted from your lips but did not stray far. “Allow me to be forward then. Even if we had not been wed, I still would have asked to lay with you tonight.”

There was not a speck of doubt in you that he meant it, it was in his eyes. His thumb brushed over your mouth as you drew in a breath of air.

Your voice got sultry, “But then I would ruin you and your virtuous reputation.”

The warning was meant to make him think it all through again, but all it did was make him oh so terribly curious.

“Ruin?” His voice reached a deeper timbre, “You already made a ruin of me.”

A shiver ran down your spine, he moved you closer against him.

“You tore down everything I had build.” he said, growing more and more intense. “And I let you. I have let you destroy it all because you gave me something better.”

Your eyes spoke the question that your lips could not form now that he was so close.

“Ruin me.” He breathed into your ear. “Be my wife and ruin me.”

With trembling hands you cupped his face, drawing the pads of your thumbs down his markings. Your voice was but a whisper, “Do you truly want this?”

He cupped the back of your head, leaning in to graze his nose against yours. “I do.”

Never before had his eyes seem so warm, so intensely blue that it put the heavens to shame. It was your gaze falling from his eyes to his lips that sealed your fate, the second he saw it he slowly began to kiss the side of your head and trailed over to your temple and cheek. It was meant to tempt and you weakened at the mercy of his affections.

“Lancelot…” your heart was hammering away.

His arm came around you, reeling you in against him. With the patience learned from a former life, he seduced you with touch, scent and sound. His mouth brushed to your neck, leaving behind a ghostly presence that made you wish for it’s return.

He spoke into your ear, gentle as he could, “Will you have me tonight?”

The answer fell so effortlessly from your lips now, “Make me yours.”

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[theheirofthesharingan]

If you care, do you have any thoughts on Obito? Like him? Dislike him? Neutral? Any character analysis?

I don't really feel anything strongly about Obito. I like to write him in my fics, but only his Madara personality because it's so badass. The rest, I wish I cared about him enough. It's also because his whole story unravels in the war arc which happens after Itachi's second death. And at that time, I'd lost interest in the anime (and then manga altogether). I genuinely can't remember most of the things that aren't about Sasuke or Itachi. I would have cared about him more if the story focused a bit on him and Sasuke. That doesn't happen at all.

My opinions (ranging from indifference to criticism) come from the fandom's perception of him, where people en masse tend to either overlook or justify the horrible, unforgivable things he did, while also piling hate on Itachi. I've seen plenty of people here on Tumblr with the opinions "I love all Uchiha except for Itachi." or "All the Uchiha are hot, except for that Konoha bootlicker."

So this response will be a rant for all that I've seen.

I'm very much aware of his trauma which founded the base of all the things he would go on to do in the future. He was a good kid, who had a lot of kindness in his heart. But he didn't want to be the Hokage because he was good and wanted to change the world. But to prove himself to Rin. Not a bad motivation, considering he was just a kid, but nothing heroic about it too. Although, Madara took advantage of his love, innocence, and goodness to turn him into the bad guy whom we met in the story.

The problem with Obito is that he thinks he's the first person to acknowledge the world is a messed up place, and he needs to change it. In the process, he ends up making it much, much worse than it was before he pulled the things he does in canon.

This moment reeks of something more than the acquaintance both the men shared. Were they working together? Were they co-conspirators? There was something more going on with Danzo and Obito, and I have a theory that kind of works. Kushina's pregnancy was supposed to be a secret. It's likely Obito learned it from Danzo. But it is also likely Zetsu helped him.

Either way, there's more to his and Danzo's relationship than what we think.

The Akatsuki were founded to establish peace and end the conflict. But Obito, who wants to actually change the world, had Akatsuki's founding members manipulated too.

He also controlled the Mizukage, becoming the de facto leader of Kirigakure.

So, the man had the authority, the powers, the strategy, and all the resources, but he still uses his pain to make the things worst, just because he went through it.

He also knew the reason that Kakashi was not responsible for Rin's death. His anger is understandable, because the person he loved the most died at the hands of the other person he cared about the most. But he rationalises his actions and thinks he's doing the things for the betterment of the world where he and everyone can live happily.

Meanwhile the things he does are:

He's the reason Minato and Kushina died. Naruto becomes orphan and Jinchuriki because of him.

He was planning a war on Konoha, unprovoked. Conspiracy with Danzo is very much a possibility.

Itachi's entire life was destroyed because of him. Sasuke's entire life was destroyed because of him. Naruto's entire childhood was made miserable because of him.

Nine tails attack was totally unnecessary and killed a lot of people.

Fourth World War which killed thousands of people.

Akatsuki is said to have destroyed a lot of villages. All at his orders?

He also slaughtered the Uchiha clan along with Itachi.

Have I missed something? Let me know, please.

He was basically, I suffered so much. Why not make everyone else go through the same pain as I did?

I give Naruto characters a lot of benefit of doubt. A lot. But it doesn't work for Obito in my head. Madara and Pain becoming villains had a strong reason, but Obito, nope. You can't always let your childhood trauma drive you and make decisions for you, especially when you're an adult, but Obito did. He continued to justify himself until the very, very end.

Nearly all the evil things Danzo does have an unequivocal involvement of Obito too. In fact, while their goals might differ, their reasonings are the same. Danzo spent all his life manipulating and using vulnerable kids. Obito does the exact same thing. I'm going to sound like I'm high, but the evil things we see Danzo do were, in fact, a response to Obito's evil.

It's just Danzo had no reason to do the things he did and Obito was manipulated. But, like I said, you have to grow up at one point in your life, which he never does.

Many people consider him a good villain, but I find Pain better. That's just my preference to him as a character though.

I'm mostly indifferent towards him, until some Uchiha fanboy/fangirl on Tumblr (I'm active on Tumblr only) sprouts the "Obito wanted to change the system" and "Itachi was a Konoha bootlicker" bullshit. Then, I am going to come up with these opinions, because no, Obito was THE man responsible for Itachi becoming who he was.

Obito was a villain for a reason. His sob story personally does nothing to me because of the reasons I mentioned earlier, and also because it's "my crush died and it's the end of the world for me", when we also had Sasuke (who had stronger reasons to be worse than Obito) or Itachi, whose pain could have turned him into someone entirely a different person, but he not only had a self-awareness, but also lacked the tendency to prioritize his pain.

And then, this, this is the way his story concludes?

Well, imagine all of the lives he willingly took, all of the lives he deliberately destroyed, all of the pain he caused, only to have been forgiven for all the horrible things and have this kind of ending? And then also be a beloved character most of the fandom views as a "broken hero."

Not everyone is as lucky as him, you know?

Anyway. Like I said, I don't hate or like him. This is just the critique based on what Manga says. I haven't included anything from the novels, in which he's much more sinister. If one has anything to say, I'd like to hear it, but insults won't be tolerated.

[fuck-your-proana-blog]

Fellow disabled people/in recovery people/suicidal people, please avoid interaction with @skylarthethompson .

I tried to kill myself last year because of my ED and chronic pain. I was in a coma for 2 days, in the hospital for 2 weeks, and am still suffering the after affects of the damage the 3 months worth of pills I swallowed did to my brain and body, and I'm still struggling with suicidal thoughts due to my many physical and mental illnesses. I just hope me exposing this cruel human will keep them from hurting anyone else who is also struggling.

Telling someone they have nothing to live for is so fucking beyond ok and I just want to warn anyone else who is suffering from chronic pain/illnesses/disabilities and mental illnesses/suicidal ideation that this person is a cruel and insensitive troll and to not let them rent space in your mind.

I reported them; anyone else who sees this please report this despicable behavior so they don't do any further damage to the mentally ill/chronically ill community here on Tumblr.

The first comment is clearly suicide baiting, and I guess they realized that and tried to seem a little less depraved; but you can't undo saying shit like this:

Also, take a look at the victim mentality at work here: "you're a smart smart nice person and I'm a dumb dumb mean person." 🙄.

And then there's the fake "do-gooder" story. So telling a very disabled person that their life isn't worth living is helping, and "a good coping mechanism"?? Anyone with half a braincell can tell you're just trying to seem less like an asshole when you've been exposed as one. Nice try to not seem like an absolute garbage person; but it didn't work.

And this selfishness: "I don't feel safe now! I don't want my virtual life ruined! I don't want gross people telling me horrible insults when my mental health can't take it!" Funny, because I didn't want your gross opinion on why I should just kill myself because my life is too miserable to be worth living with all my mental and physical illnesses. Nice ableism you got there. Also I didn't ask anyone to send you "horrible insults." I just asked my followers to avoid and report you for suicide baiting; which is a very severe problem on the internet that no one deserves; least of all mentally and physically disabled people like me and many of my followers.

"Please don't ruin my life over this!" If you say things online that you don't want everyone to see, that you can come to acknowledge are the actions of an asshole, that's your problem. Don't tell people they should just give up and kill themselves if you don't want people to see how heartless you are. If your life is "ruined" by something you said you have no one to blame but yourself.🤷

And of course the classic "I reported your post; I won't let you ruin my Tumblr life." ...are you even serious? You wrote those words; all I did was take screenshots and show them to my followers so they don't become victims of your harassment themselves- not everyone has the great support system I do, so they deserve a warning about people like you. Plus I said nothing wrong, I just told you that telling people to kill themselves is fucked up and made a post exposing your cruelty so you couldn't harm others who struggle like I do. If your "Tumblr life" gets "ruined" from this, your have no one to blame but yourself because all I did was post the words you put on my posts. I don't give a shit that you're "only 18;" you're still an adult and should know better than to tell strangers on the internet that their lives are so horrible they should just kill themselves.. also if you were actually "sorry" you wouldn't have said more cruel things after your oh-so-sincere apology.

There were even more responses they made saying they were going to kill themselves and it was my fault because I posted things they publicly said on a public platform, telling me they were going to Livestream their suicide and publicly blame me for their death, etc. (I reported those comments to Tumblr for a suicide threat but didn't get screenshots before they were deleted.) You can look at the amount of notes on said posts; this one has 27 replies with only 2 from me so they were harassing me all day with 25 comments while I went to some of my many appointments, so obviously I didn't get screenshots of them all, but the ones I did screenshot are more than enough proof that this person who told me I should just die and was trying to blame me for their mental state; saying I was guilty of something THEY actually did to ME, and that if they killed themselves it would be my fault... For simply making a post telling vulnerable people to be aware of them and their disgusting behavior because no one deserves to be told their life isn't worth living; especially when they've been fighting with those thoughts in their own mind for years and don't need some asshole online trying to push them over the edge towards suicide.

When I was a fucking child I knew that telling people to kill themselves is wrong. Not my problem that you're so cruel you can't see it that way and harassed me all day as I went to my disability appointments finding out if I need more surgery while my notifications were going off at a ridiculous rate as you were trying to convince me I'm the bad guy for warning vulnerable people about you; a person that told someone they don't even know who is a suicidal, ED recovering, physically and psychologically disabled person, that their life isn't worth living and they should just kill themselves.

This person is a threat to the mentally and physically disabled and they need their blog to be terminated so they can't trigger people on the edge like me and so many of my followers and others in the disabled/ED communities on Tumblr.

[blindmagdalena]

First of all, I really enjoy your content, as a HL fan it's really nice to enjoy the Fandom with others.

Secondly, you should check out cxd edits on YouTube because there are so many good Homelander edits.

Now for my question, what is the most fitting demise for Homelander in season 5? Unfortunately, all good things come to an end and Homelander will most likely be killed off in season 5. It is cliché for the villain to meet their end after all.

There are two endings that I'd like to see as a HL fan.

Quite a lot of people seem to think that Ryan will play a part in his dad's death. If this does end up happening, I'd like to see it in a way where HL sacrifices his own life for Ryan, or he accepts his fate if Ryan chooses to retaliate and fight his dad. It would be a redeeming end for HL because as we see throughout the show, HL experienced a genuine loving bond towards his son. The shining light in his world of darkness so to speak. I think this would be a nice ending for him.

Soldier Boy nukes the compound V out of his blood and he no longer has his powers. He becomes a boring, weak, useless human. He's no longer the most powerful man in the world. He goes into hiding (I think he looks very handsome in his blue coat, red t-shirt and hat) Ryan is the only person that knows he's still alive and they keep in contact. He then eventually meets a fan off Tumblr, which is great for him because he still has someone to stroke his ego, they have two children together and live happily ever after. The end.

Okay the second one won't happen but it'd be pretty cool imo 😂

What do you think will happen to Homelander in Season 5?

thank you so much! and yes i will absolutely check out those edits. now, onto the meat of your ask...

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGH. 😩

Kripke has stated very plainly that he can't see a world in which the series ends without Homelander dying, so it's fair to assume that yes, we will see HL meet his end in s5. i say, shaking with barely contained agony.

we've already had a lot of foreshadowing that Ryan will ultimately put Homelander down. season 4 especially bashed us over the head with it. i do think it's going to be a choice that he'll have to make, and god i just... i hope it's handled well. i hope beyond measure that there will be at least a little respect and empathy in his death, however "deserved" people think it is.

making Homelander synonymous with Vought when he started purely as their victim is a really good allegory for the cycle of abuse, and how people can often become their abusers. however, i really don't wanna see that used as a cop-out to completely erase his victimhood. killing Homelander isn't the solution! Vought needs to fall, and THAT is the choice that i hope Ryan will make. destroying Vought once and for all and breaking the cycle.

because without Vought, what does Homelander really have? it's currently representative of all of his power and influence. i don't really believe Homelander will ever go nuclear the way he teased in s3. if he wanted to destroy or rule the world, he would have done it by now. but he doesn't enjoy running Vought. he would hate running the world. he's just clinging to what he knows.

in turning on his father and destroying Vought, Ryan will effectively kill him. the grief may be so intense that Homelander lashes out, forcing Ryan's hand in ending him.

i mean. i would love it if what we see is the death of Homelander as a symbol. completely exposed and left in public ruin. leave him sobbing in the ashes of all he failed to accomplish, just like we saw him weeping in front of that TV. he would feel like the torment of his childhood, all the abuse he suffered... all of it was for nothing because in the end he still lost. he's not the hero he was promised he would be... but his son is, and maybe that's something worth living for? maybe that could be enough.

i know that won't be the case, but a girl can dream. 😭 imo there's no "fitting" demise because his death doesn't actually solve anything by itself. death isn't justice. it doesn't put a stop to the system that made him. i can be okay with Homelander dying if that isn't the sole win condition of the series. i need closure!!!

anyways i love your second option and i would like to volunteer as tribute to write it for them!!!! 😂

[aurora-daily]

AURORA: "People Deserve Complicated Music"

AURORA's interview for Junkee by Ky Stewart (September 11th, 2024)

AURORA is a once-in-a-generation artist. Unrestrained by genre, her music always feels just outside our grasp. So, as might expect, our conversation was insightful, inquisitive, and filled with childlike wonder and joy.

I was scrolling through Tumblr the first time I heard an AURORA song. It was 2015, a year after she’d released her first album All My Demons Greeting Me as a Friend. The post was a clip from her music video for ‘Murder Song (5,4,3,2,1)’. It was dark and tender. I was captivated by how expressive she was. Just 18 years old, she already knew just the right spot to jab you and reach your soul.

So I jumped down the AURORA rabbit hole. I quickly fell in love with that album, discovering fan favourites like ‘Running With The Wolves’ and ‘Runaway’. She was truly a Tumblr darling and, as it turns out, had absolutely no idea that so many of us were posting her lyrics on random edgy backgrounds. “Oh my god, that's so sweet,” AURORA tells me. “I didn't know that. That's insane. I had no idea. That's really sweet, because I feel like the Tumblr community were always my kind of people. That's really nice. I'm gonna try to find some of those posts now.” (Unfortunately, most of Tumblr has been killed off but there’s still some dedicated AURORA fan pages kicking around on there. I hope she found them.)

A lot of us from Tumblr grew up with AURORA’s music. Her albums have been part of how I made sense of the world around me at various stages of my life. Her newest album What Happened To The Heart? is no different. At a time of incredible turbulence, I often find myself asking where our collective empathy has gone. Or if we ever had it in the first place. How can we watch other people suffering and do nothing about it? These questions are AURORA’s inspiration. “There's always quite a lot behind my albums and I think a lot about the world when I write,” AURORA says. “I try to think about what I feel is the purpose of my music, and what I feel the world deserves to hear. I felt it was time for a question, especially the question, what happened to the heart? I was thinking about it a lot, and I realised that I found this question to be very interesting and very important. I think I found the answer.” 

For AURORA, the answer lies in how society has been stripped of compassion. “I'm nervous about a lot of the problems in the world today [and] the general unfairness in how our resources are divided upon the people,” she says. “The general unfairness that some people are given a chance in this life and some people aren't, and how the world just lets that happen. We haven't figured out a way to lift each other up more because people like to be comfortable, which I understand. It's hard to give away our comfort. To try to lift up someone we haven't even met yet is a hard thing for humans to do.” 

She adds, “I think we can actually feel that something is a bit off with life on Earth. Because we are very disconnected and we have closed up on that spiritual side of being human. And it kind of worries me that I feel something is a bit hollow inside of us, and that's why I answer the question, what happened to the heart? Because something is a bit messed up with how we live now.”

What I’ve always appreciated about AURORA, beyond her ability to make ethereal music, is how politically vocal she is. AURORA’s music has always been rooted in people, in their stories, and in how they feel. She cares deeply about people’s pain and uses her music to fight back — or at the very least, help people feel heard. Recently, she dedicated her protest song ‘The Seed’ from her 2019 album A Different Kind Of Human (Step II) to “all the children of Palestine, Sudan, Congo, Yemen, and Syria”.

“There are so many people in the world now that listen more to people they look up to, rather than experts on the matters of the world,” AURORA says. “A lot of [these] people are idiots and they say so many strange things and lead people the wrong way, like Trump… It’s chaotic when famous people have opinions that people follow so blindly without taking the time to actually measure your words or find out where they come from. It really scares me. [But] if people look up to me, I'm going to do as much as I can to say things they deserve. I think music really helps me do that, because I don't have to be too blunt, I don't have to be too harsh, I don't have to speak about things in the world in the same way most people do. We like to gather people around a common enemy, or to divide people with fear and then rile them up. I think it's so cool to rile people up with something that is, in its roots, fuelled by love.”

In preparation for the interview, I watched AURORA’s old music videos — the ones she made before the world fell in love with her. The bio said “Aurora Aksnes is a 18-year-old girl from Bergen, Norway. She strives to write music that can inspire people, through idiosyncratic tales of struggle, love, and all that lies in between.” Ten years later and she’s still doing exactly that. To AURORA, music is a language we all speak so why wouldn’t you use it to try to help others? “I wanted [the album] to be a mirror,” she says. “To do a soft beginning, because the first song is very spiritual, and numb [where] you ignore the thing screaming inside of you to be seen. Then the album goes quite dark because we ignore our roots. It's in our nature to be caring and kind. We do so much for the people we love and it's so pure. So we know that we're capable of it. But when we ignore this nature, we grow bitter and sour and broken.”

What Happened To The Heart? is as enigmatic as AURORA is. The album opens with the delicate ‘Echo Of My Shadow’, then we slam into dance-pop songs like ‘Your Blood’ and ‘Do You Feel’ or the techno club offering ‘Starvation’. Songs to get your body moving and your heart pumping. But there’s also folk and soft-rock. No matter the genre, her voice pierces through you. This concoction of sounds makes perfect sense to AURORA. For her, the sound of a song is less important than its essence. “I don't really think much when I produce,” she says. “I just feel and I just do, because I don't really have any rules when I make the skin around the soul of my songs, as long as the soul of the song feels right, it can wear whatever clothes it wants. It will still be okay, which is a comforting thing, because it helps you to not be a perfectionist. That steals the joy of creating from yourself, which is easy to do in this world.”

AURORA’s eclectic sound makes sense when you consider her influences. “I grew up with a lot of Leonard Cohen, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan,” she says. “Also grew up with Enya. She was my biggest inspiration when I started making music. I just realised the healing power of voices and how much I can do. ‘Runaway’, which is one of my biggest songs now, is just the voice. The whole song is just accompanied by my own voice, trying to become choirs around my leading vocals, so that's been a very important part of my production journey. I'm very into Cohen, his way of telling stories in music, which I've obviously been very inspired by, especially in the beginning with songs like ‘Little Boy In The Grass’ and ‘Murder Song’, which are very [big] storytelling songs. And Bob Dylan taught me that I could be political and say things about the world in a nice way or in a funny way or in a hard way, depending on what you want. So these people all taught me very important messages. [When] I grew up, I learned about heavy metal and the Chemical Brothers. I think my idea of a perfect song is a mix with the Chemical Brothers, weird sounds like Enya and a bit of metal and folk. That's kind of the essence of what I find beautiful.”

AURORA is deeply connected to the environment. She’s been a strong advocate for environmental rights in Norway and trying to help the global fight to stop the ever increasing impacts of climate change. All of this is evident when I ask if she’s excited to return to Australia for an upcoming tour. “Oh, honestly, I'm so excited,” she says. “I think Australia is one of my favourite places to tour. It's so beautiful. It has the adventurous, grandness, and largeness that I feel when I'm in America, but you're not like America at all. So it's large and adventurous, which is exciting when you're from Norway. But it's still so friendly, and I'm so in tune with a lot of the politics. I'm not so familiar with the current situation, but I like what you did with the gun laws and to prevent massive shootings. And the Indigenous peoples, I feel a lot of admiration for, and there’s a certain charge in the land in Australia that I cannot explain. It feels very spiritual there, and the nature feels like home. I know it's so different from home, that I feel so curious and excited, but it's still so like home that I feel safe and I understand what's going on. I don't know, I love Australia. I love being there. [The] people are so pretty as well. And the bugs. I love bugs. You have all the scary ones there, and it's so fun. I really am excited to be back. I hate that it's only like every second year. I wish I could come every year.”

It’s such a joy to experience an artist like AURORA. Her music is charged with so much life and energy. You find something new every time you listen to her songs. Something she’s tucked away in the corner for you to find. She makes music that forces you to stop and think about what’s being offered to you. And that’s exactly how she wants it. 

“I like making complicated albums because I have listeners who deserve complicated music,” AURORA says. “We're being served a lot of uncomplicated stuff, which can also be good, but if that's the only thing we get, I don't think it's good for our brains. People are very clever, and I think it's important to not underestimate them.” 

[insufferableprotagonistpoll]

Round 1

Propaganda why Dr. Heinrich Faust is insufferable:

"Dude is an old disgruntled man that does nothing but complain. He gets the coolest sidekick (Mephisto) who grants him the power of looking hot and young again and what does Faust do with that power ?

-- no suspense here we all read the play. He seduces an underage girl (Gretchen), impregnates her then fucks off to party with a bunch of witches for 9 months, after wich Gretchen is sentenced to death for killing the resulting infant after you know....BEING A SHELTERED YOUNG WOMAN NOT REALLY KNOWING WTF TO DO WITH A NEWBORN.

And then Faust cries to her about it in prison.

Faust sucks. "

"INSANE over him being submitted and SURE i'll go along with it. He is supposed to be insufferable, clearly. Which REALLY starts in the Gretchentragödie. Where he (middle aged scholar) tries to get with a 14yr old girl (and manages to) and kills like her whole family. The reason this is extra infuriating is because in the first part of the drama he's actually quite relatable. Whining about how he has nothing to live for and how he studied everything there was at the time and he STILL doesn't get what the world's really about. He also recognizes that nature and culture have a lot to offer instead. So what does he do when a demon promises him a fulfilled life in a deal? Of course he decides to groom a 14yr old. Cool writing, there's a reason it's a classic. But yeah, he's Supposed to suck and be infuriating. He acts like a little BITCH towards mephisto, the demon, asks him for shit all the time, like a toddler. In my opinion, gay sex would have fixed him. If a demon told me he'd give me anything to make life worth my time i know who I would bang instead of the 14yr old. Not only does he wanna be with her but he's so BAD at it too. Failure of a man. You WILL want to punch him"

"Rarely have I ever loathed a character as much as Faust.

He starts relatable enough, wanting to know more than possible and stuff, but he is incapable of accepting a no. Desperation and hubris are fun, don't get me wrong, but he is so incredibly annoying about it.

My main issue is his obsession with Gretchen though. Like. My guy gets deaged into youth and needs to fuck the first girl he sees. Buddy, she's, like, 16 At Most (probably 14 actually but I don't remember). You're literally an old fuck of a professor. And like, you literally keep calling her a child and ignoring all her concerns and her values! The only times you agree with her are to placate her so you can still get in her pants!!

And like. He literally admits this outright. He literally says he doesn't care what happens to her as long as he gets what he wants. He manipulated a teenage girl into accidentally murdering her mother during their first time. Then he leaves her alone! She's pregnant, that's a death sentence!

And AFTER the fever dream of Walpurgis Night or whatever he's like "ohhhh I love you so much please run away with me and abandon all your values again" LITERALLY SHUT THE FUCK UP THIS IS YOUR FAULT.

YOU LITERALLY HAVE A LIFE TIME OF EXPERIENCE YOU KNEW EXACTLY WHAT YOU WERE DOING AT ALL TIMES YOU'RE A MISERABLE ARSEHOLE WHO KILLED HER AND SOMEHOW YOU STILL DON'T RESPECT HER AS LIKE A HUMAN????

Like even for the time! That's fucked up! Even in the fucking context of Goethe's time that is messed up!!

Anyway I haven't yet gotten to read the second book but I'll do it literally just to watch Faust die. I need him to die so badly. He's such a horny, selfish, holier-than-thou bastard who thinks he's better than everyone because he's do "big picture" and "studied all fields of science" and then acts Like That. I'm chewing on his remains. I hope he suffers forever.

Like. You could have done anything. But instead you manipulated a teenage girl (and like, literally, not the tumblr usage) just to sleep with her, doomed her for your own pleasure and then had the gall to throw a fit and make her death all about yourself, and still didn't acknowledge her as a person even once. I hope you choke on your ego, Dr. Heinrich Faust."

Propaganda why Victor Frankenstein is insufferable:

"Victor Frankenstein is so pathetic not even tumblr could love him. The best parts of Frankenstein are the ones where your blessedly saved from being in his whiny, self deprecating, self centered pov. He’s so conceited that when his creation tells him directly “In revenge for killing the wife you were making for me I’m going to kill YOUR wife to see how YOU like it!”, Victor Frankenstein thinks that the creation is going to kill him and *only* him. (A decision And on top of it, he’s a shitty dad. Truly the worst.c

"this fucker has zero self awareness, which could maybe be fun to read about! except that 3/4 of the book consists of him constantly woe-is-me-ing about his own mistakes and how he shouldn't be responsible for any of his own actions."

"He's not irredeemable, but his refusal to take accountability til it's too late is irritating"

"The man has never one in his life taken responsibility for his own actions. He's always surprised when the things he does have consequences for him and the people around him.

"It's not my fault I spent months grave robbing for spare body parts, sewing them together, and giving life to the results. How could I have ever predicted that that creature wouldn't look quite right? How could I have known that it was wildly irresponsible to abandon the grown man sized newborn that I created?"

Man acts like he is a completely innocent victim when, in reality he's the cause of every one of the problems in the book."

[aniimamundi]

Pride & Prejudice - a Drarry tale

(I've been wanting to write a Pride and Prejudice inspired Drarry story for a while. I'm writing it as a full-length fic that I won't start posting on Ao3 till I have a few chapters written in full. Meanwhile, I'm posting it as ficlets here on Tumblr.

Warning: This is going to be very silly and campy. Also, I know it makes more sense to have Draco as Mr. Darcy but my heart really really wanted him as Lizzy, and so there's tremendous amount of twisting to fit that narrative 😅)

Chapt 1: Cissy & Portia

Narcissa Black was a changed woman. The tides of war had swept over her life and when they retreated, they took her husband, his significant fortune, and her desire to perch atop the social pyramid. In retrospect, those things had brought her nothing but anxiety and it was just as well that they were gone. 

These days, Narcissa lived for simple joys and her children. The actual one and all the other strays that she had taken under her wing. Oh. And for Portia as well she supposed, blushing a bit at the thought.

As if on cue, the beautiful Portia Zabini bustled into the library where Narcissa sat behind the desk with a book.

“Narcissa! Darling! You would not believe what has happened,” exclaimed the excitable woman.

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t tell me and save yourself the wasted effort.”

“Oh! Cissy!,” Portia cried, flicking her handkerchief at her, “you wicked woman! If you weren’t so pretty, I would be so mad at you.”

Narcissa couldn’t help but smile. “All right. Tell me.”

“Netherfield Park is let, at last! And you would not believe who has taken it! Ronald Weasley!"

Narcissa frowned at that information. Ronald Weasley was a child. Well, not a child technically, but a child to the likes of them. Why was Portia excited at the notion of … Her blood ran cold at the thought. Portia with her propensity to marry powerful men …

Portia flopped down on her lap and put her arms around her neck. “Silly goose, I’m talking about our children.” 

Narcissa couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. “Our children!”

“The Weasleys are rich now. With monetary rewards from the war and their very successful family business. The gossip through the grapevine is that Ronald Weasley has not been promised to anyone. Imagine! Pureblood. Rich. Single. What a fine thing for our boys!”

“Darling, the Weasleys hate our children! Need I remind you that Draco took the dark mark? He almost killed Ronald Weasley.”

Portia waved her concerns away. “That was ages ago –”

“Three years.”

“Bygones are bygones.”

“Are they?”

“The children are serving their sentences. The Wizengamot thinks community service is enough penance to wipe off their crimes, why should anyone else think differently?”

“Oh, Portia.”

“And even if he doesn’t want Draco or Greg or Vince, perhaps he will fancy Blaise or Theo. There might be a wedding sooner than you expect. As soon as they move in darling, we must visit them. The Parkinsons have already made plans to do so.”

Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh at her partner’s detachment from reality. “Count me out. You can visit alone if you like and convey our approval for Ronald Weasley marrying whichever of our delinquent children he likes. He can even have them all.”

Portia got up from her lap in a huff. “Must you vex me so? Oh to have suffered seven husbands only to find a beautiful woman and discover that she is no better! I will get all the children married. You just wait and see!”

Narcissa watched her lover flounce out of the room with an attitude. Her arse looked delectable in the tight skirt she was wearing. Portia Zabini was a force of nature. Perhaps the children really would all be married by the end of the year. She shuddered at the thought, before remembering her resolution to take life easy and not worry about such bothersome matters.

(read next part here)

[demodraws0606]

Why I am a die-hard believer that Whit is the mastermind

You know I was going to make an entire structured theory thread about it but Tumblr decided to be a little bitch and remove all my writing so I'll just kinda throw a messy list of evidence here.

Notice how Veronika's summary of Forever Dead is suspiciously similar to the secret dialogue

Notice how the main character's gender is pointed out

It's also interesting how the mysterious dialogue in the beginning who seems to be related to the hidden text (the idea of not being able to remember anymore link those two) seem to often mention the fact that they're grieving the loss of someone.

That someone most likely being Mai who seems to have suffered a tragic fate due to Teruko, which can explain the mastermind's hatred of her.

Guess who's character is linked with grief ?

(I know this is most likely about his mother but there is nothing contradicting the fact that he could be idolizing multiple dead people)

Wow it's interesting how these secret texts about Mai seem to be really idolizing her.

We can also add how the person who wrote the note to Xavier is very clearly the mastermind and how Whit's tool is a Stationery (it's spelled Stationary but i believe its a typo) which is commonly known as writing and other office materials.

Which includes paper, pens, ink, highlighters and other tools for writing

It's even made worse by the fact that the note seems to be written by a specific type of blue pen that we haven't seen anywhere in the series.

And even worse is that Charles, who knows Whit's handwriting, couldn't point out the writing is his as he couldn't access the scene of the crime due to his trauma therefore he couldn't see the note's handwriting.

It's really really interesting how the hidden text points out how they can predict everyone's behavior in a killing game and Whit's intuition is highlighted three times in this game.

Another suspicious thing is how the mastermind of the game talks about how they basically can predict anything that can happen. It's almost like how Whit jokingly predicted Arei's death.

Along with how Whit is the only one who has directly talked to the audience (him showing the papers) or how he's nudged the killing game into more interesting directions/avoided it from going off the rails.

Other exemples would be him defending Teruko/Charles in the first trial, him not revealing David's secret until the last minute (as well as the note that suspiciously pointed to Eden), him not trying to help with the fight in episode 4, him insisting that Charles and Teruko talk about their family life (aka nudging them to talk about their backstory which would entertain the audience) and other stuff i don't feel like adding.

It's also important add that Mono-TV and Whit also have similar personalities. They both don't take anything seriously and make constant jokes about the killing games, Mono-TV and Whit also act constantly incompetent and like they're a lot dumber than they actually are.

Another thing is that it's interesting how Whit opens up about his secret so easily, even though almost everyone's secrets are something they're at least flustered about and at worst completely ashamed by. If he was the mastermind, it would make sense that his secret wouldn't be anything that could ruin his character and that he could just admit easily.

Also another point, the mastermind character talks about a time when they cared so much about people and how it hurt them so much when they died. Which you can see that caring nature shine through a lot with Whit as it's possible that Whit's personnality is not actually a lie but more so a reflection of how he used to be before he went through all this alledged horrible stuff.

We can also note how the mastermind has to be one of the students and how there is an extreme likelyhood that Mono-TV saying it isn't bait because it's not actually told to the students but to us. Why would Mono-TV tell it to us and not to the students if it was a lie meant to make the game more interesting, wouldn't it be more entertaining to reveal to the students of a fake mastermind among them to get them to kill one another more easily. It's why I have no doubt someone in this class has to be the mastermind behind it.

Mono-TV also seems to not have any contact with the person controlling him which would make sense if it was someone in the killing game as they would have a hard time communicating without being caught.

(It's a stretch but it would make more sense if Mono-TV didn't know if the mastermind was one of them as if the mastermind was behind the scenes there would be no reason why it wouldn't interact with Mono-TV, although take this with a grain of salt as he could be lying)

And just really there aren't a lot of other options for the mastermind that would be compelling unless they introduce a mysterious new character.

It could be the mysterious red haired girl but everything hints towards her being dead or hurt and it being the cause for the killing game rather than her being the one behind it. There is some decent evidence that it could be her but I genuinely don't think so considering it again feels a little too obvious and doesn't work with how the story/secrets present her.

(It's just not very compelling to make your ONE mystery character the mastermind and again it would be weird considering Mono-TV telling the audience the mastermind is in cast doesn't make sense logically as he would have no reason to try and trick the audience)

Not a lot of characters in this cast can be really put into the mastermind category as they are either too obvious (teruko, veronika) or too farfetched (eden, hu etc...).

I honestly am a die hard believer that Whit is the mastermind however what's interesting to me is not If Whit is the mastermind but more so the Why ?

Which honestly might be a question for another time...

But yeah this is why I 95 pourcent believe Whit is the mastermind

If anyone has anything more to add I would be really interesting in seeing what other people have in terms of evidence.

[astolfofo]

deja vu, Jamis vu

BSD beast au x reader. Based on the end of the beast movie.  AUTHORS NOTE: SO. ITS FINALLY DONE. ITS 4AM I AM ON IPAD TUMBLR AND UHHHH… I tried to edit this. but. TUMBLR WAS BEING AN ASS. and the two hours I spent editing this went down the drain. Mere words could not describe the grief I felt at 3:37 in the morning. I would have screamed if I weren’t so zombieified. Then, I tried to be paitent and edit it another time, but tumblr was like: haha no. so it didn’t save. I swear it’s not my fault if you have a stroke while reading this. I sacrificed my sleep for an entire week to do write this. Please give me some credit for my suffering. /lh

Also keep in mind. I have watched the DA movie and the beast movie a whopping total of 1 time. It’s probably very off from what I was trying to communicate, cause I legit have no clue what goes on in the light novels... spare me the slander. 

Last thing, I tried something new with this one, so there’s weird ahh switches between first person and 2nd person in this. Idk how good it is, lmk if i should never do it again.

Tw: head injury, murder, blood, suicide, yeah I think that’s about it.

word count: 6.8k  

To all the Chuuya enjoyers out there, I’m sorry for being a disappointment.

Tags: @redeemingmygloryintopurgatory

I’m wet.

Im standing outside his door, knocking as it rains outside, without an umbrella, cold, and of course, drenched.

Helplessly, I knock on his door, hoping for a response from him. I know it’s pointless, by now. I should cut him out of my life by now, I should… leave him. He’s not a good person, he’s part of the Port Mafia, for the love of god… I’m scared of him. He could crush me at any moment. Hell, he breaks into my house so frequently, and even though he’s done no harm… he could kill me at any moment. So why am I here? Shouldn’t I be relieved that he hasn’t shown up at my apartment for over a month now? I… just can’t…

Lightening splits the sky in half and the sound of thunder cracks in the air.

Your fist slides down the window pane of the door. It makes a terrible sound, and you wince in pain from the sting of the friction. You should just go home. It was obvious Chuuya wasn’t even home, he never was. And if he wasn’t even home, how would he even answer the door? You regret coming here in the first place, you didn’t even know why you chose to. Was it out of worry? Was it because you had to say something to him? You couldn’t remember by now, it was all on impulse. 

Chuuya had broken into your apartment countless times. Still, no matter how many times you’d snap at him, how many times you’d emptily threaten him, or try to push him off the balcony, he still came back the next day, unphased. You couldn’t get rid of him, no matter how hard you tried. And after many days, you had learned to accept that someone could break into your home at any given moment.

And you had no knowledge of how he knew you, let alone knowledge of how he even got your house key. Or maybe he picked your lock. You couldn’t be sure and you really did not want to know. 

Every day, you’d come back home from work, and Chuuya would be sitting on your couch, drinking your wine (much to your own distaste). You’d usually give him a dirty look, and he’d glare in return but you’d say nothing. You preferred not to talk to him, and Chuuya wouldn’t raise conversations by himself. He always sat in the corner of the room, observing… scrutinizing every move you made. On the rare occasions when you had managed to start a conversation with him, it was always painfully awkward.

You once remember asking him why he was here, what he wanted from you, and his true intentions. Chuuya looked at you in an amused manner and stared out the window. 

“Why I’m doing this? You’ll find out yourself when the time is right.”

By the time you had woken up, he was always gone. As if he was never there in the first place. The only thing he’d leave was the wine glass he’d drink out of, and your clothes you had hauled back from the laundromat messily folded, in your drawer. Occasionally, when it warm out, he’d leave the window open. They were small actions. Meant to be noticed, but not returned.

The splashing of rain intensifies, as you stand on Chuuya’s porch. He’s not home. You can’t stand here forever. You have to get back home before it’s too late.

What a great way to spend my time off work.

But you wanted to try one last thing before you left. Maybe his door was unlocked the entire time. Although you would doubt it, it was worth a try. It was so stupid to do this, all of it was. But your curiosity is getting the best of you, and you desperately wanted answers. Answers only Chuuya could give.

So, you grip the door handle and twist the doorknob. Much to your shock, the mechanics of the door click, and the door opens.

Chuuya had left the door unlocked. He forgot to lock his own door. You take a step up, and stand in the doorway. The rain is still hitting your back, and you groan realizing that you’re dripping water onto the floor. Quickly, you step in and shut the door. You twist the lock, ensuring that no one else would come in.

You sure hope Chuuya wasn’t going to come home tonight. The thought of it made the hair on your neck stand slightly. 

You take off your shoes which are drenched in water and stare in the mirror. You’re soaked to the bone. Your clothes are completely see-through. You’d need to change them. That could wait, though. If the rain stopped, you’d go home as soon as possible.

Okay. Quick in and out it is. I need to find my spare key, and I need to find what happened to him after the explosion in the sky that day. The one that happened on the top of the… port mafia building. You shudder. I wonder what happened. It was so bright that it looked as if the sky exploded for a second. The next thing you know, everything is back to normal… except it isn’t. A dead body is found at the bottom of the building.

Followed by that, I never saw Chuuya again, but many people that were close to me have been avoiding me. When asked why, they avoided my question. There isn’t a strong connection there, but I think… that all of these events are connected somehow. Chuuya never appears again, and the fact he works for the Port Mafia, definetly does not help. 

Additionally, the Armed Dective Agency sent me a letter to be wary of Chuuya. With no additional information. There’s something going on here. Something is wrong. Something terribily wrong.

And I’m scared.

Apprehensively, you take several steps inside the house. You keep getting the feeling that you may get caught. But you don’t hear anything at the door. It’s a painful paranoia.

You inhale and exhale.

I’ll start looking for hints first. I don’t need an answer right away. One hint will be able to give me lots. I’ll start from his room, that’s where people are most likely to hide things.

You walk as quickly as possible across the empty corridor in the house. His house is eerily empty. There isn’t much in it, just a lot of furniture, a shelf of wine, messy papers and a few books placed sparsely across the rooms.

You walk up the stairs, which slightly creaks under your weight. You try your best to ignore any noises and try to stay focused. As you reach the top of the stairs, you see his bedroom, which is the first room at the end of the staircase.

You walk towards the room, you open the door and look around. Chuuya’s room is surprisingly fuller than the rest of the house. There is a dresser, with several items stacked on top of it. It has drawers, which you assume were full. His closet was also filled with clothes, with various hats on the shelf above in his closet.

Chuuya’s bed was neatly made, giving the impression that he had not been home in weeks. Unoccupied, cold, and abandoned. Yet you felt a temptation to lie in it either way. Your eyes dart to the dresser again, and you look at the various items spread out on it. None of these are of much use to you. Besides the gun that seemed unused.

Your hands move to the drawers and you begin to search them. In the first one, there was nothing. Just a bunch of stationery, and papers, some of which had blood on them. You shudder in disgust and move on.

You struggled to pull the second drawer. After a moment, it slides open and you look at the inside contents. You stare at it, wondering if you open it. There is no address on it, and it isn’t sealed. 

You have a bad feeling about this, but your hands move faster than your brain. You pull out the piece of paper and read its contents.

The letter is addressed to you. It doesn’t include much. Just A single sentence that holds an address. 

And then it hits you.

Chuuya had been planning this for a long time. He had purposely left the door unlocked, left his house empty, and left you because he knew you would try to find him one day.

It infuriates you more than you expect. But you can’t stop here. You’ll go to a specific location. 

Just to be sure, you look in the third drawer, you see your spare key, as well as a lock cutter. 

Its dark now. It’s still pouring. You have no choice to stay here for tonight. Begrudgingly, you curse yourself for dragging yourself into this. Still, you were in too deep to back out now. Whatever happens, will happen.

-

You wake up. 

You're lying on Chuuya's bed, in his clothes, begrudgingly. Your own clothes are discarded onto the floor, dried during the time you had been asleep. Still, you don't exactly feel like changing into them. It felt too gross to wear them. 

You shake your head. Now's not the time to be thinking about that. You sit up, and stretch your arms. Then, you walk towards the desk again, and look at the address. You take note of the address, and take your spare key. Before you go, you flip over the paper, ensuring that you didn't miss anything. There's another sentence scribbled on the top of the paper.

I know you're reading this. You want to know why I'm gone, and why I did this. The address that is provided will help you, but it will not give you the answer, nor will I be there. 

…What? 

You read the sentence over and over again. The words sink in, making you feel conflicted. You knew you were getting yourself into a certain kind of danger by doing this, but you didn't expect it to be this risky. Hell, you didn't even know where the man was now, and not to mention… the location…

You look at the location again.

It's on the street where the explosion happened. And you're no fool. If it was on that street, it meant it was that building. There were no other possibilities. You doubt it would be any other one of those tall skyscrapers, anyways. The one where the explosion happened was the only building Chuuya had any affiliations with.

Which was going to be incredibly difficult to get into. Let alone, to the top floor. You'd be dead even trying to set foot into the door. It wasn't worth your life for this. You should forget about it and go back home.

You look through the paper again, hoping there might be something more to help you. Sighing, you came back with nothing. I suppose I really have to go through with this, don't I? There's no turning back. 

-

The walk to the Port Mafia's building was rather short, if you were being completely honest. It was located in the heart of Yokohama, and was one of the tallest buildings there, if that told you anything. 

You stand outside the building, as the apprehension and fear build up inside you. You had never felt as much of a need to run from anything, as much as you did now. The doors, despite their grandeur size, and large glass design, looked uninviting. Almost like doors to a bank vault; the kind of doors that told you, you wouldn't be able to get out, as soon as you stepped in. And from various things people has told you throughout the years, the Port Mafia keeps people it's had come into contact with. It's more powerful beyond belief. 

It doesn't need to control you. You'll be forced into being pliant for them, simply by fear. No one can betray them. Death is almost a guarantee if you do.

And recently, they had also become violent as well. You might as well be walking yourself into a death wish.

But your feet remained rooted into the ground, and part of you remains determined to see this through. So you take a deep breath and walk into the building. 

You try to remain calm as you push through the doors, into the lobby. You pray Hou won't be swatted with bullets as soon as you enter, but much to your own surprise, there's no one in the lobby. It's completely empty.

It doesn't feel right. You wonder if what happened. Well, it's not your business anyways. You couldn't care less. You just needed to find whoever Chuuya's office is and-

"Who are you?"

shit. you curse under your breath. "I-I'm," you turn around to face the person talking g to you. As soon as you do this, the man's eyes widen, and you acknowledge away slightly. "Sorry… um… do you know where Chuuya is?"

You had never felt so idiotic and out of place in your life. You can physically feel your heart pounding inside your chest, as you pray you don't look too suspicious. You can't mess up here. Though the man you are currently talking to isn't holding any firearm. That may just as well mean he has even worse methods to kill you off.

"He's not here."

of course, he isn't. You think to yourself. He wrote that in his own letter, or whatever you call it. 

"He's been arrested." The man looks you directly into your eyes, and as on instinct, you look down, too scared to actually look at him. A few moments pass in silence.

"Can you… perhaps tell me why?"

"After the previous Port Mafia executive committed suicide, Chuuya was forced to lead the Port Mafia. He hated the job greatly, and he eventually…" He stops himself.

"Go on." You mutter.

The man tilts his head and looks at you again. "Are you sure? If you want to see him… it's better just to see for yourself." He stops for a second. 

"No… please tell me. Tell me everything that you possibly can."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Fine then. If you insist."

"Chuuya lost his control over himself. He slowly became more, deranged, if you will, as time went on. After the old executive killed himself, Chuuya had no one left. Or at least, that's what we saw. His orders became more and more irrational, often just resorting to killing everything, and slowly, he eventually broke. He went on a rampage, as you've probably seen, Yokohama is not safe with him around. He almost destroyed Yokohama in its entirety, and it took serveral organizations to stop him. I don't know the exact details after that. He remains locked up underground."

You feel as if you had been doused under cold water. You didn't only have your question answered, but that also explained several other things as well. You try to recollect your thoughts while figuring out what to do next.

"By the way, you look familiar."

"How so?"

"I don't know, to he honest. You look like someone who used to work here. Maybe my mind js tricking me, though. You look too weak to be here."

"Yeah," you force out an awkward laugh, "I could never work here for the life of me."

"Figures."

another awkward pause, as you stare at the man.

"I assume you need Chuuya's location, don't you?"

You nod.

"Here." He hands you a piece of paper, with an address messily scrawled onto it. "Although, I don't recommend going to see him, tell the guards you are a relative of his. Hopefully, it will convince them enough to let you in. Though, if you want, I'm sure you can attempt to knock the guards out. Chuuya's well… very restrained so he won't hurt you."

"Ah… thank you."

"Don't mention it."

You bow and leave.

"Hey wait-" the man calls out, his voice echoing through the empty lobby. He seems hesitant to ask something. You stop and turn around. "Yeah?"

He looks down, and awkwardly avoids eye contact for a second. It's at this moment you realize he's a man with short, white, hair, as well thick bangs that were cut into a slant. He’s rather short, and he’s wearing a long jacket.

He looks… familiar. I wonder why.

“What’s your name?” 

You stare at him for another moment before answering. “It’s Y/N.”

You could have sworn you had seen a face of surprise from him for a second, but it could have been your imagination because the next instant you blink, it’s gone. “I see,” he says slowly. “Be careful then. He’s not the same as what you may remember.”

As… I remember? What….

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. Just go to the address, and everything will make sense.”

“Hey wait-”

He’s already turned his back and left on you. You’re left with so many more questions than you started off with, and dread creeps up you again. There was a warning tone in his voice, almost as if telling you to do this was a terrible idea. That you were going to be landing yourself in scalding hot water, and you wouldn’t be able to get out. You knew the risks from the start, but…

You quickly unfold the paper, and look for the address. Once again, the address is written in the center of the paper. You carefully look around for any other writing on the paper.

It’s completely white. Blank. Except for one sentence on the bottom: It’s never too late to back out. 

And you stare at it, and think about the several cryptic warnings you received from this man. So… you’re telling me, that after that explosion happened in the sky… a dead body, the previous executive was found. Then shortly after that, Chuuya became the executive of the Mafia. He hated it. But he had no choice and was left alone to do it. Eventually, he lost his sanity and mind and the Mafia… I guess? Because very corrupt, violent, and unsafe. It took many people to stop him, and how he was arrested in an underground cell. At this address.

It’s clear he’s cutting something out. He said to be careful. Of course, if Chuuya has lost his mind, I need to do that. But he empathized that I should be wary of him. Also, he said I looked familiar, and he also looks familiar to me. He mentioned something about… me remembering? Have I known Chuuya for longer? 

But he also said that only Chuuya has the answers to all my questions. So that means in other words, he knows what happened during the explosion, he knows that Chuuya has been breaking into my apartment and he knows more about my entire predicament now, than I do.

Just… who exactly is he? How and why?

You cut yourself off from those thoughts. 

Ugh. this is ending up being so much more complicated than it was supposed to be. You thought in bitterness. So basically, I’ll go to the address, and get the answers to my questions. Sounds simple enough. There’s no need to overthink this. Maybe i’m just being paranoid. What’s the worst that could happen?

Well, a lot. But I’ll just ignore that for now.

You turn around and walk towards the door again. To be honest, you don’t want to know what might happen once you see him. You were already nervous from the implications the man had told you moments ago, and you were coming to realize there were some things that you noticed when you were in Chuuya’s house. Things that you maybe weren’t supposed to know about or see.

In the bottom of the drawer… there were documents. Documentation of everything that happened on the day of the explosion. A bright light illumined the sky, followed by the dead body found; the previous port mafia’s executive; Dazai Osamu. The two closest people to the explosion were a member of the port mafia, Atsushi Nakajima, and a member in the training of the Armed Detective Agency, Ryounouske Akuwatagawa. They are believed to be the cause of the explosion.

No one knows the exact events inside the Port Mafia on that day, except for the individuals involved in the actions that happened. According to the Armed Detective Agency, Akuwtagawa had barged into the Port Mafia to challenge the Port Mafia Executive. He accordingly, fought many individuals in the Port Mafia, a body count is yet to be determined. Data from thereon forth is unknown until the individuals reach the top of the building, where the most notorious event stated above occurred.

Additionally, after thorough examination of the body of the previous Port Mafia Excuetive, it can be concluded that he had committed suicide by jumping off the building. 

The document ends there, and the paper is ripped in half.

-

It felt like every meter you travelled towards that location was walking towards a terrible, yet inevitable fate. The drive there, dragged on and on as if mocking you for your choices. You find yourself counting down the seconds until you can arrive at the location given.

Oh, how you wished you had stayed at home instead of seeking him out. If only your morbid curiosity hadn’t gotten the best of you.

You’ve lost track of the time you’ve spent on the train, only waiting for the loudspeaker to announce your stop. The location you figure you were given led you to a rather remote area, likely in the outskirts of Yokohama. If not further. The man had told you he was locked underground, completely isolated from everything.

You found that part the most unsettling. If they needed that many security measures to keep him in place, it was likely he was completely gone. Gone beyond saving. If he had succumbed that much to his own grief and madness, it would be a question of whether he would still remember you or not. 

You look out the window again, enjoying your last moments of peace.

This is the eerie calm before the storm, isn’t it?

Moments after you think that, the train halts to a stop at the last station in Yokohama, and you get off. Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, and you’re not sure if you can stop it.

You try your best to remain calm. Force yourself to keep going. He’s special to you. You can’t lose him, even if you hate him. You need him. He’s the only one who still cares. 

And above all, he’s the only one who remembers you at all.

And so, you go. You take all the correct turns. You try to walk as quickly as you could, to arrive at the destination. You keep going, and going and going until…

You’re here.

It’s one of the better buildings on the outskirts of the city, yet… it looks incredibly unsettling. It’s a mundane building, one made from standard concrete, and glass. Yet. As you stand so close, you see cracks in the building. The door is partially cracked as well. 

Well, I’m here already. Whatever happens, happens. I may die in there, still, before I die, I have to know the answer. The answer… why can’t I remember? Chuuya. I want him to tell me, what he did to me. Why he came to my apartment every day. Why he’s… he’s…..

Oh. My hands are shaking. Surely I cannot be this terrified can I? I will do this even if it kills me.

You pull the door open and enter the building. The piece of paper told you that it was on the lowest floor. Your footsteps echo in the empty building, and it feels creepy no one is here.

Huh. Gives some Deja Vu, doesn’t it?

You proceed towards the elevator at the end of the hall, and press the down button. Almost instantly, the elevator makes a “ding” noise, and the doors open. You quickly step in and look for the lowest button. With a deep breath, you push the button, and the door closes.

You stare at your face in the mirror. You look terrible. Pale and your hair is completely dishevelled and a mess. If you didn’t know any better, you’d look like you were sick. You had been extremely anxious about this for an entire day, after all.

The elevator doors once again slide open. 

Here goes nothing. You sigh. I’d better hear you talking today, Chuuya. You have a lot to tell me. And you’d better tell me it all.

You step outside the elevator. There’s nothing. Absolutely nothing, and no one here. The halls are empty, and the strong scent of stale air, combined with dust fills your nostrils. You feel like coughing for a second, but you hold yourself back. You didn’t want to make any noise to give away your presence. You take another step.

Despite what the man said, it was clear that there was no one else there. No prison guards, no other cells inside. It was clearly a floor made, simply to detain one individual in particular. Isolated, and secure enough that they’d never be able to escape. Deep enough underground that they’d never even know where they were.

Your footsteps tap loudly against the concrete and echo everywhere around. As you walk down the hall, the lightbulbs behind you light up. The man had told you it was in the deepest part of the prison. However, what he didn’t account for, was that you had no idea how this floor was organized. 

Not to mention it was starting to get creepy really quickly. Although there should be nothing else in here, you were starting to get the sense that there was something dangerous that might lurk in the air. You tell yourself it’s probably just the dark and your own fatigue and you were imagining things.

The emptiness of the entire building creeps you out. It’s eerie. It feels like you were lead into the wrong location, and you were walking into a dead end. It almost felt almost like a trap that you had been lured into. And every second, the floor grew significantly more eerie. The lack of any presence and the darkness despite the very few lightbulbs attached to the ceiling enhanced that. 

I should be getting close now… right?

You were. You could see a light at the end of this hallway, which was illuminated with an orange light. It must have been where Chuuya’s cell was. There was no other place as illuminated as this, and there was no reason for it to be.

You had gotten this far. There was no reason you should be stopping now. Should you? The answer… you had always looked for, you could get it now.

Chuuya always hid something from me. He has never answered once, one of my questions. He’s never told me why he comes to my house every day, he never told me once why he was gone. For as long as I remember, I’ve been coming back from my job, and seeing him there. But one day, he disappeared. No reason why, no reason of how. He just did.

But apart from my job, there’s another piece missing to this puzzle. There’s something else that I’ve always wanted to ask him besides why he’s gone missing, and the explosion which I already had the answer to. He knows me, better than I know myself.

What was I before all of this happened?

I know there’s something before all of this. It just doesn’t add up. The man I saw in the mafia looked familiar. The building itself was in a place that I had felt I had been in at some time before. There’s deja vu there.

But when I first walked into the apartment, the first day before I saw Chuuya, I had jamais vu. A familiar place, that I didn’t know. And consequently, I couldn’t remember much before that. So what-

“I know you’re there, (Y/N). You’ve been standing there for quite some time.”

Shit.

Your thoughts are cut off by that voice you instantly knew. Chuuya was indeed, there. But his voice didn’t sound the same as you remember. There wasn’t any of the snarkiness, or egotistical attitude in his voice anymore. Instead, his voice was laced with aggression, and a malice that made you hesitant to even come forward.

You open your jaw to speak, but almost if Chuuya knew, he spoke before you. “I know what you’re thinking. You want to know why I left you, don’t you? I assume that someone has already told you about what happened on the day I stopped seeing you, and I’m sure you know all about the aftermath of that.”

You feel like you are doused in cold water. How did he know? Did he plan all of this. You want to open your mouth and tell him to slow down, but he continues, anyways.

“And you’ve been having deja vu for several days, too. You feel like you know the Port Mafia building, you feel like you recognize everything you saw, including my home.” Silence, as he pauses for a second. “So why don’t you… come and face me, and I’ll tell you what actually happened?”

“Chuuya-”

You hear no response. You sigh and walk towards his cell. You’re not ready to hear this, and you’re not sure you can face him.

He’s different. He’s not the same anymore. He sounds more violent, his composture is much less controlled than it was before. What…what happened to him?

And then you approach his cell. He’s got cuts everywhere, specifically the gash on his face. You instantly feel the need to run away, to get this image out of your mind. He was thin, his face was significantly more gaunt than it had been the last time you had seen him. And the most unsettling thing was how he was kept. Both arms were harshly chained to the ceiling and the wall. The chains were wrapped around his arms several times (you would assume most likely to stop him from breaking free), and they cut deeply into his arm. Then his body was also tightly bound to a chair, and his legs were bound to the chair’s legs. His body you noticed, was bound so tightly to the chair, you wonder how he still managed to breathe. Still, nothing would be as unnerving as to look at as his eyes. They were not dull per say, but they were empty. Not in the hopeless kind of way, but in the tormented sense that he had been tortured so badly that it would be unlikely he ever saw the light of day again.

Truly, he was a lost cause. You could only describe him as tortured and traumatized, as you couldn’t glance at him a second time.

“Hey. You done oogling yet?” His voice came out as almost an aggressive snarl, and you instantly look away. “Look at me.” You do your best to look at him, while trying to avoid looking at any part of his face in particular. You didn’t want to see it. Truly, you don’t want to look at him in any way whatsoever. So you settle on looking at a corner of his hair. The only thing that was still familiar to you.

“I said look at me. In the eyes.”

You don’t want to.

Chuuya sighs. “I know I probably look terrible right now, but please. Just do it. For the sake of me. Just look me in the eyes. It’ll probably be the last time I see someone for a long time.” He draws that last sentence out for longer than you expect, and you start to feel uneasy again, but you try to ignore that and ask him the question. The question you had been dying to ask for an undefined amount of time.

It’s a second before you can really bring yourself to ask it. “Chuuya. Where are my memories?” your mouth tightens… “Who am I? Why did you… do this?” You take a deep breath, to stop yourself. “Just tell me. Please.”

There’s another stretched-out pause before Chuuya responds again. “I knocked you out.”

“You… you what? N-no… you’re kidding right?” Your voice wavers slightly, before seeing Chuuya’s face again. He’s dead serious. “Why would you do this?”

“You were in danger. I couldn’t help it, alright?” He yelled, and you flinch. He takes a deep breath in again, slightly more calm, and continues. “Let me explain.”

“You were part of the Port Mafia, (Y/N). In fact, you, me, and Dazai used to be assigned to the same team all the time. Of course, it was always despicable working with Dazai. He never told us about anything, instead only telling us what to do, while he schemed about whatever he damn chose.”

“You can’t be serious…”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Do you think I’m joking right now? That I’m making a story and pulling it out of thin air for fun? You wanted answers. I’m giving them to you right now.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Chuuya ignores you and goes on. “Out of the three of us, you were always the weakest one, without a strong ability, nor any supportive abilities, however, we always had to drag you along anyways. To every mission gaven to us. Dazai would always make a plan, and we’d have to follow through. And if any of us ever messed up, we’d always get into trouble.”

“I bet you wanted to know how you got that bruise on your arm, that’s never healed, huh? Well, it’s cause you messed up one of the missions, and one of the higher-ups broke your arm. It never completely healed, and it was a warning that you should never mess up again.”

You look at your arm, where the ugly purple bruise marred your skin. It had never healed, and you couldn’t do anything heavy with it. Although it made a lot more sense than the reasoning you were told, you found this all too unreal. There was no way you were a mafia member. You were always weak. There would have been no reason for you to join. But even past the static buzzing in your brain, you could make out everything he said feeling familiar. As if your memories were just behind a wall you couldn’t break through.

“Still, I wasn’t able to do anything at the time, and Dazai didn’t care too much for you. The damned bastard treated everything and everyone like a chess piece, and played them as he wished. You were constantly treated as the runt of the three of us, and often used as the punching bag when missions weren’t successful. But, over time, you managed to become more ‘competent’ and not ‘drag us back’.”

“Of course, that all was, until the Dragon Head incident. All you need to know was that it was a bloody fight, and most of us were sent to deal with it.”

“As always, we were sent to deal with the mess. Dazai and I were obviously vanguards during the entire ordeal, and you were backup. When we had found the person behind it all, I used my own ability to kill him. We had won, but just barely.”

“You had managed to find the location of the man first, but you didn’t notify us. This person later told us that you actually refused to tell us. Ultimately, you botched Dazai’s plan, and almost destroyed an entire city, because you didn’t follow his instructions. Of course, Dazai was disappointed, even if he didn’t say anything. He essentially dismissed you, and planned to go back, and remove you from the Port Mafia. But, I didn’t want that.”

“So after a very long fight with Dazai, I managed to make a compromise with him. You would not be killed for betraying the Port Mafia, however, you wouldn’t be allowed to go back. But if I told you this, you would have rather accepted death, since the Port Mafia is the only thing you have ever known. You couldn’t go into the real world since you have no identity there.”

“So later that night, while you had looked like you were at least, partially asleep. I had no choice… but to give you severe head trauma, which would make you lose all your memories.”

There’s an unspoken silence between the two of you. You had always been told that your head was fragile. When you tried to think about your childhood or teenage years, your head would fill with static and it would hurt. Never had you ever expected it to be… this…

“You must be shocked. You probably think I’m not being serious, or that I’m joking. Well, I’m not done yet.”

“You were in a coma for years after that. For about two or three years, if I remember correctly. I had to make sure that you wouldn’t remember anything, so I bashed your head, pretty hard against the concrete. I brought you to the hospital after that, and told them that you had been injured badly, because you had attempted suicide. A balatant lie, but I couldn’t tell the doctors any more than that, otherwise I would have been detained.”

“For several years, you stayed in the hospital, completely unconscious. I’d visit you everyday, and see if you would wake up. At one point I had considered just giving up. But eventually, you did wake up. But, you didn’t have an identity in the real world, let alone education, or anything that would let you survive. When you were discharged, I paid a company to forge you a fake identity, which is what you live by now.”

“I’ve watched over you for so long, (Y/N). You once asked me what you needed to be protected from. I didn’t answer that question because I didn’t think it was the right time to let you know the truth. Alas, you’ve come searching for the truth yourself. The Port Mafia was after you for a long time. I had to constantly monitor you, you were constantly on my mind every day. And even when you were discharged from the hospital, I still had to watch over you while you slept. They wanted to kill you. I didn’t want you dead, in fact how could I?” Chuuya laughs in bitterness. “I loved you for a long time. I did all of this to make sure I’d be able to see you happy, for once. And you were. You moved into society rather nicely. You were simply not meant to be part of the Mafia, despite the potential in your ability.”

“You have the gun I left on my desk, didn’t you? You knew you had to take it because you might have been in danger.”

“Chuuya… stop.” You’re still in shock, but you know you’ll never properly remember any of your memories now. You can only trust him. Whatever he says, you have to believe. He’s not lying. He never was lying.

“That was Dazai’s gun. The gun he left before he killed himself.”

“No… please. Stop. Chuuya. Don’t do this please…”

He chuckles. “I have no merit in my future, I am simply left to rot and die here. You wouldn’t understand, (Y/N). I spent so much time in my life for you, that it would have been simpler to just kill you. But I can’t do that.”

“But in a life where you don’t return any of that to me isn’t worth living either…”

“CHUUYA,” you scream. “Stop this. Don’t…”

“So shoot me please. I know you’re dying to do it. You brought the gun with you, you wanted to kill me. I know you do. Why? You’ve reached into your pockets serveral times while I was telling your past. My life is hopeless, completely doomed. I’ve lost everything I once had, except for you. And I can’t even see you now.”

“So kill me. Put me out of my own misery.”

He smiles, in a twisted sort of way, expecting you to shoot.

“You won’t regret it.”

And it’s true. You were planning on killing him, but you don’t want to now. But if what he said was true, you were also ruthless as he was. You had to make a choice, quickly.

Your hands move faster than your mind, and you can’t stop yourself.

You shoot once. Once at his chest.

You can’t bear to see what you did.

But you also can’t see control what you were going to do next. You hear another gunshot being fired, and you weren’t if it was from yourself, or maybe someone else in the floor.

Your vision stops and you feel yourself falling to the ground.

[theraggedygirl11]

Baš ja, koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud

Bojan's POV

Kris' POV: AO3 - Tumblr

SUMMARY: In a world where Heaven and Hell exist, angels and demons are constantly fighting and killing one another. What if a demon easily dominated by his emotions falls in love with a stoic and cold angel trained to kill demons?

PAIRING: Bojan Cvjetićanin/Kris Guštin

WARNINGS: swearing, blood, implied violence, hurt/comfort, implied suicide, emotional rollercoaster, enemies to lovers, hint of jance in the background

WORDS COUNT: 5.094

LINK: AO3

NOTES: Hello! Welcome to my first ever BoKris fic. It all started from this post by @arctixout and that damn tag (for reference: #stoic angel!kris and demon!bojan who's slave to his emotions and then they somehow fall in love wait who said that). And what could I do? It was too juicy to not write something out of it! So here we are.

Besides, as you can see from the title, I used Bluza (Youtube video and lyrics+translation) as my inspiration (and background music while writing), and this songs plays a role in the plot too 👀 yeah, I know we all think this is a BoJere song, but in this fic it's a BoKris fic, you'll understand why

Also, thanks to my beta @anxious-witch!

Last but not the least, I did this aestethic/moodboard trying to match @arctixout gifs

“You should talk to him.”

“Why? He's a demon. He's impure, a damned soul.”

“And you love him.”

“Angels can't love. He started corrupting me.”

“Angels can love and they must love. It's not corruption.”

“How can you tell it's not his corruption, Jan?!”

“Because I fell in love with a demon too. And I accepted it. Go to him, speak to him. He’s singing for you.”

When humans think about demons, the mental image they have is that of a terrifying creature, maybe with huge bat wings, a tail with an arrowhead at the end, claws, horns, red skin, maybe even hooves instead of feet.

Well, we do have a tail, and wings, and claws, but nothing alike of what you see in those pictures, and not every demon has them. We own a human form, just like everyone on this planet, that we use to roam among mortals. We have feelings, desires, hobbies, friends and families. Our only drawback is being born a demon from demon parents. We are guardians in Hell, we just watch over the damned souls who doomed themselves to suffering.

Heaven knows this, angels too, but they deliberately chose to not see this, to hate us, and they kill us with no hesitation when they find us on Earth. They think we are impure beings that don’t deserve to live.

And this is what led me, a demon, to meet the most beautiful creature ever seen on every plane of existence. I fell in love with an angel, I don’t even know his name, but I will discover it.

He almost killed me, I was terrified for my life, but he stopped when our eyes met, the sharp point of his dagger barely touched my throat. Something exploded in my chest, my heart was beating so fast. I've never felt something similar to what I felt at that moment.

And since that night I find myself staring at the sky so often, during both daytime and nighttime. Am I a hopeless romantic that waits for his angel to come and get him? Oh yeah, you can bet on it. And I'll wait for him to appear for eternity, if necessary.

* * *

“Bojan, come on!” Shouts Nace, one of my dearest demon friends. “We are late!”

I turn my eyes in his direction. I was staring at the sky, again. As always, no signs of my angel. He will appear, I’m sure of it, but this is not that day. I sigh, then reach Nace and Jure.

“Still looking for that feathered ass?” Jure asks.

“I…yes. I’d like to meet him again.”

“It’s better if you forget him, he will try to kill you again the next time he sees you,” says Jure while looking me in the eyes.

“He’s different. I’m sure of it. He didn’t kill me.”

“No, but he was about to,” replies Nace. “You know better than us that those winged assholes can’t be reasoned with.”

I lower my eyes, aware of the truth behind Nace’s words. We lost so many of our demon friends because of angels. But maybe…maybe he’s not like the other angels. I saw something in his eyes, something different, this sparkle.

With this thought in mind, I followed Nace and Jure to our destination: there’s a concert of a human band we all like, so we decided to go. We enjoy music so much, we also joke about forming a band together and tour together on Earth, among mortals, but that would put too much attention on us. It’s too dangerous. But at least we can enjoy concerts and gigs!

I’m dancing, taken away by the rhythm of the songs, when my gaze meets familiar eyes in the crowd, two amazing blue-green seas. I completely stop, and so does he. The music and every other sound disappears along with the people around me.

We stare at each other for moments that seem to last decades, blue into brown, light into darkness, Heaven into Hell, a perfect but forbidden combination, something that should never exist.

This magic spell breaks when I feel a hand on my shoulder and immediately after a tight grip. I turn and see Nace on my side, who is harshly staring at my angel. Jure appears on my other side.

I turn again towards my angel and I see two other people near him, one of them with dark and long messy hair and a beard, the other one with shorter hair but well combed and a trimmed beard. They are definitely angels. And they know we are demons.

The guy with messy hair steps in our direction, but my angel stops him, raising his hand and using it as a barrier. The dark-haired angel steps back and quickly glances at his friend. No one says a word.

“Bojči, let’s go,” Jure whispers into my ear, then grabs my arm and pulls me away.

I keep looking at my angel until I can no longer see him in the crowd.

In the next weeks Nace and Jure forbid me to go to the surface, but I sneak out. Every other demon could tell that my self-preservation instinct got fried because I want to talk to that angel, at all costs.

I keep looking at the sky, searching for him. Waiting for him to show up. And every single time nothing happens. But I’m stubborn, I won’t give up.

Tonight the sky is clear, stars are shining bright, and there's a small crescent moon. I'm lying on a patch of grass in the middle of nowhere, around me only trees and mountains. 

Suddenly a shadow partially covers the sky above me.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

I startle and stand up immediately, recoiling scared. When I recognise the person in front of me, I wide my eyes and open my mouth in surprise.

“Angel,” I whisper.

It’s dark, but I can sense his piercing blue eyes on me. He’s tall, taller than Jure and Nace too. His cheekbones are prominent, I can for sure cut myself while stroking them. Maybe I’m a masochist, but I want to touch them and feel them under my hands and bleed for him. He’s standing straight, rigid like a soldier, or maybe a general, I can’t tell his celestial rank.

“I repeat, since you seem to not understand my words, what are you doing here all alone?”

Shivers run down my whole body, his voice is…ok, this might sound cheeky, but yes, his voice sounds angelic, a slow caress of a lover on my back down to my waist. 

“I was looking for you.”

“For me?” He’s surprised.

“Yes, for you. I wanted to talk to you, angel.”

Now he’s confused. Well, not every day a demon comes looking for an angel. I go closer to him, moving slowly.

“I’m not armed,” I show him my hands. “You can check on me. This is not a trap.”

His eyes follow every single movement I do, even more carefully when I’m in front of him. I stare at his face, stunned by his beauty. I lift a hand to touch it, but I stop mid-air. No, I can’t touch him, my dirty hands can only ruin his perfection.

“Why do you want to talk to me, exactly?”

“I…I want to know you, angel.”

“I beg your pardon, you want to know…me?”

“Yes,” I nod. “You are amazingly beautiful, angel,” I let slip this comment, without realising. 

I notice a weird red-ish colour on his face. Did I just make him blush? I chuckle, he replies with a shy smile. Oh, he’s so wonderful! That smile almost made me melt on the spot. 

“Would you like to…I don’t know, come grab a coffee or anything else to drink?”

Who said that angels and demons can’t get along well? They must have never met an angel, then.

My angel, whose name is Kris, is a pleasant company. Well, he’s still a little bit rigid, but since that night when we had a couple of drinks together in a bar he became much more open and relaxed and he smiles so much now! Oh, I adore his smile. And his laugh too! 

We started going out together here and there, but every time it happens, my heart almost explodes out of joy. I can’t wait to see him again and again and again. Jure and Nace are worried for me, but I feel safe around Kris. He’s not like the other angels.

Our “dates” are pretty diverse. Sometimes we just hang out in some park or in the middle of wild places; once we sat on a cliff for hours, we talked and we observed the environment, at least Kris, I was too busy looking at him with heart eyes. Some other time we choose a city and we explore it, we can just appear anywhere in the world, a perk of being supernatural creatures!

This night though is special. Tonight I will confess my feelings to Kris. By now we have been seeing each other for some months and I’m completely sure about my love for him. Yes, I, a demon, fell in love with an angel, I’m not afraid of saying it, I want to shout it from the top of a building.

I’m putting on some makeup. I’m in front of the mirror in the bathroom of a small apartment I rented for when I’m roaming around on Earth. Jure and Nace are with me in the room, they are still worried for me.

“Are you sure of what you are about to do?” Nace asks.

“Yes, never been so sure in my long demonic life,” I reply.

“But he’s an angel, Bojči,” Jure whispers. “He’s dangerous. What if he’s playing with you?”

“He’s not, Jurček. I see how he looks at me, he…I think he’s in love with me too,” I glance at him through the mirror. 

“Angels are sly creatures, you can’t trust them,” Jure adds.

“They say the same stuff about us, you know?” 

I smile at my reflection. That black eyeshadow with glitter is perfect for me, my eyes are shining. “I love him, I’m going to tell him this. Tonight will be a special night, nothing can change this.”

We hear the sound of wings in the living room. He’s here.

I almost run in the room, a huge smile appears on my lips when I see him. He’s wearing beige trousers, a shirt with light colours and floral designs and a silver jacket. He’s from Heaven, no one can be mistaken. And his clothes collide with mine: I’m wearing black trousers and a black t-shirt, when we’ll go out I planned to wear a bright red leather jacket. He’s the good boy, I’m the bully, the bad boy.

“You are stunning, ljubavi .”

“You…too, Bojan.”

I notice his eyes passing over me. I turn and I see Jure and Nace.

“Oh, yeah, these are my dearest friends. This is Jure,” and I point to the blonde demon. “And this is Nace,” I move my hand towards the tattooed demon. “They are safe, they won’t hurt you. I ask you to do the same.”

“...fine,” he grants. His eyes turn back to me. I notice hesitation in him.“You put on makeup.” 

“Yes, just for you. Do you like it?”

“You…look good.”

I grab his hand. “I have a surprise for you. Close your eyes and follow me.”

I practically pull Kris to the bathroom, where I make him sit on the edge of the bathtub.

“What are you trying to do, little demon?”

“I told you, it’s a surprise,” I reply while I take the palette I bought the other day. I start putting makeup on his face, I chose a wonderful golden eyeshadow for him. I admire my work.

“You are otherworldly, ljubavi . Open your eyes.”

Kris opens his eyes and looks in the mirror. I observe his reaction: I can read astonishment in his face.

“Gold is your colour. It suits you perfectly.”

“I-It does,” he whispers.

I smile and kiss him on the cheek. “We can go, then. I have other surprises for you, my angel.”

Our first stop is at a wonderful restaurant where we had already eaten so many times because it’s Kris’ favourite. I let him order whatever he wants and then pay for the whole dinner. We talk about many topics, but Kris is weirdly more silent than usual.

“Is everything ok, ljubavi ?” 

“Yeah, sure, don't worry. I…had a rough day in Heaven, that's all.”

I smile fondly at him, then gently grab his hand and slowly stroke its back.

“Now it's time for you to relax, then. Enjoy this night out.”

Our eyes lock. I see him relaxing a bit, the shadow of whatever happened retreating.

Once dinner is finished, we take a long walk into the city centre. It's almost summer, the temperatures are pleasant, so many other humans are around. We blend in, looking like a proper couple, even because we are holding hands.

When we arrive at our final destination of the night, I bring Kris to the top of a building, so we can be alone and closer to the sky, his home.

“Why did you bring me here?” Kris asks.

I shake one hand in the air, around us many candles appear and some slow music starts spreading, embracing us. I turn towards my angel and offer him my hand.

“Would you like to dance with me, Kris?”

He looks at me, confused, but then takes it. I lay my other hand on his waist and smile at him. We start dancing, slowly. My angel is a bit embarrassed, but he tries to follow my lead.

“Just let the music flow over you. Hear it inside of you and allow it to take control over your body,” I whisper to him with a tender voice.

A few seconds later Kris is more relaxed and we are dancing more fluidly, following the rhythm and the melody. I can’t stop smiling while I look at my angel. He’s so beautiful, so ethereal, so perfect. I can see stars reflecting into his eyes, an entire galaxy in which I could lose myself, bewitched by its beauty.

We keep dancing along with the music, but the more we dance, the more I see a shadow coming back in Kris’ eyes, until he leaves my hands and takes two steps back.

“We can’t go on doing this, Bojan.”

“Why not? I don’t understand.”

“Because we can’t! You are a demon, and I’m an angel. We are not supposed to…mingle.”

“We are not mingling, ljubavi . This is a romantic date between two creatures who have feelings for each other.”

I grab the angel's hands and look him in the eyes.

“Kris, I'm not the monster Heaven teaches you to despise. You saw me, you got to know me.”

“You are still a demon, Bojan, no matter how you behave or what you do.”

“And so? What does it change between us?”

“I'm a freaking angel! We are supposed to fight each other, not…doing this, dancing alone like two teenagers in love!”

“Only because we are not human teenagers? Because we come from two different places? Because others tell us that we should hate each other?” I clutch his hands between mine. “You know me,” I repeat. It’s the truth, we have been seeing each other for some months now. I bring one of his hands on my chest, right over my heart. “This heart is yours, ljubavi , and no one else’s.”

“Bojan, this is wrong .”

“Kris, I love you. What's wrong with that?” I feel my heart sink into my chest. “You…don't love me?”

“No, Bojan. I don’t love you. Let’s stop pretending.”

My heart stops beating in that exact moment and I feel my head spin. The ground under my feet is crumbling. I’m falling even if I’m right in front of Kris, my angel. I struggle breathing.

“I-I’m not pretending.”

“Don’t lie, Bojan. You are a demon, all demons do is lie. You know who and what I am, you saw weakness in me because I didn’t kill you that day. You are corrupting me because you want me to lose my wings!”

“I know you are an angel and nothing else! I-I don't want you to lose your wings!” There’s panic in my voice, and maybe it’s showing on my face too. “I’m not lying!”

“You want to bring me to the path of perdition! You want me to fall, just like Lucifer.”

I let Kris' hands go and recoil, stuttering. My heart is clenched, it can’t beat.

“I-I’m not, Kris. I-I don’t want to-”

“Stop lying!” He shouts and his eyes begin shining out of celestial power. “You are a filthy demon. You don’t change, you just want to destroy us.”

I recoil again, scared, I even fall on the ground. I stand up then turn and run away as fast as I can. Tears sting my eyes violently, they want to come out and a few seconds later they manage to do so. My makeup is for sure ruined and dripping down my face. 

I feel like an idiot. I hoped that Kris would be different, but what was I thinking? He's an angel, those creatures are heartless killers when it comes to demons like me. Their hatred for us is blind, almost innate. I just got another proof.

Nace and Jure were right. Angels and demons are not meant to be together. Then why did I, a demon, fall in love with an angel? If we are supposed to be mortal enemies, then why was I destined to lose my reason for a celestial creature that would slaughter me just because I am what I am? Just why? Will I ever get an answer? 

I’ve been locked in my room in a building in Hell for…who knows how much time. I don’t want to see anyone, neither Nace nor Jure. I keep crying, stopping the tears coming out of my eyes is difficult, or dare I say even impossible. My heart is shattered.

Why are demons born with such intense feelings? Why can’t we control them like angels do? Or are we cursed to be dominated by our emotions exactly because angels don’t have them?They teach us that the universe needs balance, so if angels can’t feel, someone else must feel double the time. 

I wrap my body with my arms, trying to look smaller. My tail is out, wrapped around my leg. It’s a pathetic endeavour to not feel so alone and abandoned. 

I wince when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I open my eyes and see Nace sitting by my side. He’s visibly worried.

“Bojči, what happened?”

I sob. “Y-you were right about him. He-he’s a heartless angel, just like anyone else of them,” I stutter, my voice is trembling.

Nace lays on my bed, facing me, then pulls me over to hug me. I plant my face against his chest. I feel his hand running up and down my back.

“Not every angel is heartless.”

“He is, Nace!” I shout, utter despair in my voice. “He is! I showed him my love and he accused me of trying to corrupt him! I-I gave him my whole heart and he laughed at me, he stabbed it with his ice dagger and killed me-” I stop. I can still hear his words in my mind. “H-He called me a filthy demon, Nace. After all I did for him and showed him, I-I’m still a filthy demon to him.”

My friend says nothing, he just stays there and cuddles me, attempting to make me feel a little bit better. 

And since that day I kind of started feeling better. Well, it’s more of a euphemism. Let’s say that I was barely surviving. I came back to my chores as a demon, but now I don’t smile anymore, or very little. I’m quiet. I prefer to stay alone than in the middle of a crowd. With me I have a small notebook in which I write my thoughts, ideas, feelings, and also lyrics. I can’t be a singer in the human world, but no one can stop me from writing what I feel, what I experience. 

This is how I wrote a song about my angel and how I fell in love with him. It has a stupid name too. I can write good songs, but I’m not able to name them. I will find a better one, one day. Hopefully.

“What are you writing in that notebook?” Asks Jure while sitting next to me.

We are in the human world, more precisely in a park. We needed some fresh air and some sunlight. 

“It’s nothing…” I answer.

Jure leans forward to read. “Is this about him?”

I nod. There’s no one else in my mind. I don’t like his presence, he’s haunting me, my mind is working against me. 

“It’s really intense,” Jure whispers. “Do you really love him?”

I nod again. “I know I’m a stupid demon. I should move on, forget him, but I can’t. He doesn’t love me back, he said it,” I sigh. “I’m just hoping to forget him as soon as possible. Maybe writing this stuff will help me process this stupid feeling.”

“Love isn’t stupid!”

“My love is absolutely stupid. An angel, Jurček! I’m a freaking demon and I fell in love with an angel.”

“You are not the first one.”

“Yeah, and how many of them survived? Are they here to tell their love story? No, Jurček, because angels killed them. I’m lucky I’m still alive.”

Jure pushes me with his shoulder. “Don’t lose hope, Bojči. There’s always time to change.”

I look at him. I don’t believe his words. Months have passed since my last moment with my angel, his shiny eyes are still impressed in my mind. He was about to kill me that night. 

No, he won’t change. Kris is an angel, full stop. He’s born to despise demons like me. I just need to accept that, but it will take time.

Is this despair that is guiding my actions? Possibly. Will I regret my decisions? Almost certainly. But if I can’t be with my angel, then I’d rather be dead, maybe slaughtered by him directly. That would be pretty ironic, wouldn’t it? A demon executed by the angel he’s fallen in love with. There’s poetry behind all of this. Maybe demons will use me as an example to the younglings to warn them to not fall in love with angels if they want to live.

I tried to forget him, move on, but every time I close my eyes, I see him. He's haunting me. And with him also the lyrics of the song I wrote for him. 

I’m in the middle of an abandoned industrial area. I prepared an amplifier with a microphone and a computer. I recorded some music for my song and I will perform it for the first (and last) time here, hoping that my angel is listening to me and will come to…I don’t know, to do anything. I’m ready for whatever he will decide to do to me. Included death.

I test the volume and the music. Everything sounds good, so I play the music and I start singing, looking directly at the sky.

“ Stolicu primakni, ruku mi dotakni, noćas ti si moja muza, ja u ritmu tvoga bluza ću da plešem bez prestanka .”

Nothing. The sky is blue, there’s not a single cloud, not a single sign of feathered wings. I continue singing.

“ Soba nam je mala. Ja ko pijana budala, a ni čaše nisam popio. Ja mislim da sam se zaljubio u tebe. Baš ja, koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud. Za tebe, kao u pesmama i filmovima ljubavnim, staviću zvuk .”

Still nothing. But I won’t lose hope, I will keep singing for him. He will show up, eventually. I just need a sign, Kris, please, I’m begging you.

“ Samo se okreni, baci pogled prema meni. Preći će tišina sama kilometre među nama dok jednom srce otkuca .”

Now it’s again time for the refrain. Some tears started running down my face, but I continue singing, I must, even if he won’t appear. I need to take these feelings out of my heart or it will explode. Maybe it will be my heart to kill me and not my angel.

“ Soba nam je mala. Ja ko pijana budala, a ni čaše nisam popio. Ja mislim da sam se zaljubio u tebe. Baš ja, koji nisam verovao da za nekim biću lud. Za tebe, kao u pesmama i filmovima ljubavnim, staviću zvuk .”

I see something in the sky, then the clear sound of wings hits me. I lower my eyes and I find Kris right in front of me. I see his three pairs of wings. A seraph, I should have guessed. Of course, I fell in love with one of the most powerful angels in the sky. When I do something, it’s always something big or I’m not happy with the result.

I kneel in front of him. Now I’ll sing the last part of my song.

“ Ne palite još svetla, još samo jedan tren da se nagledam lepote te. Ne palite još svetla. Ne prizivajte dan. Spasite me, smislite neki plan. Ako svane sunce, ostaću sam .”

The music stops. I’m looking at my angel, finally here for me. I’m breathing deeply, my heart is racing in my chest. My hand that’s holding the microphone is shaking. I’m afraid of what might happen, but at the same time I’m relieved. 

“You came,” I whisper.

“You called.”

Silence falls again between us. Kris slowly approaches, his facial expression is cold, hiding every emotion. I have pure angelic power in front of me, a deadly machine trained to kill my kind, and I’m looking at him in adoration.

“You know I should kill you right now because you are on Earth and not in Hell, right?”

“Then do it. I won’t fight, I won’t run away. If I can’t be with you, I’d rather be dead.”

Kris averts his eyes and presses his lips together, then talks. 

“You are an idiot, Bojan.”

“Yeah, I know, ljubavi . Love made me lose my mind in a way I didn’t think possible.”

“You said that in the song.”

I chuckle. “Maybe it’s just one of the many flaws that make us demons so imperfect in front of you angels. I was so unlucky to fall in love with you, but I don’t consider myself unlucky. I had the best moments of my life with you, I don’t want to change this for anything else in this world, not even a place in Heaven, if this means that I will lose my ability to love so strongly.”

I let the microphone fall on the ground and grab Kris’ sword, he has it in his hand, then I lay his sharp point right on my heart.

“You are here for this, no? Killing another impure soul that doesn’t follow the rules.”

Kris looks at me, finally. I smile, those eyes are so cold and so beautiful at the same time.

“Don’t make me do this, Bojan.”

“It’s ok, ljubavi . It’s ok. It’s…it’s your nature, you have been trained to do this your whole life.”

My voice trembles with emotions. Tears keep running down my face. No, I realise I’m not ready to die. I want to live, to be with him, but I know I can’t. It’s not allowed.

I feel the point of his sword pressed against my chest. In a few seconds it will reach my heart, and it will stop beating. I close my eyes.

But nothing happens. I’m still here, alive, breathing. I hear a metal sound against the ground, then two hands cup my face and I feel warm and soft lips pressed on mine.I open wide my eyes. Kris is kneeling on the ground in front of me and he’s kissing me.

I close my eyes again. I kiss him back, desperate to feel him, to make him feel my love through that act. I gently grab his wrists. 

When we interrupt the kiss, I touch Kris’ forehead with mine. I keep my eyes closed, trying to process what just happened.  

“Please, let it be real,” I whisper, without even realising it. “Please, please, let it be real.”

Kris chuckles. “It’s real, Bojan.”

I open my eyes and part a bit from him, just to look him in the eyes. “Real-real kind of way or…real-I’m-in-some-sort-of-Heaven-for-demons-because-I’m-dead kind of way?” I ask.

My angel gently strokes my cheeks, then leans forward to kiss me again. 

“This kind of way, my little demon,” he whispers against my lips. I shiver thanks to that lovely nickname. I hate being called little because it reminds me of my lack of height, but I’d let Kris call me whatever he wants, just to hear his voice again and again.

“I’m your little demon, then?”

Kris nods while looking me in the eyes. He caresses my lower lip with his thumb. His touch is so gentle, shivers run down my spine again.

“What made you change your mind?”

“Your song. I had feelings for you, they developed pretty early, but I…wasn’t acknowledging their existence because I never had the chance to fall in love with someone.”

I jump on Kris to hug him, sending us both falling to the ground, so I end up on top of him. I burst out laughing.

“Well, now you have someone right here.”

My tail appears behind me and shakes in the air, showing my happiness. I kiss him on the cheek, then giggle when I see him blushing. A couple of tears run down my face, but this time they are out of pure and simple joy.

* * *

I've been a demon my whole life. I grew up fearing angels, but nothing could have prepared me for what fate had planned for me. I fell in love with Kris, an angel, a seraph. Our relationship began with the worst scenario possible, with him trying to kill me. And yeah, I might be dumb, because I fell in love with him in that moment, but now we are happy together. And I wouldn’t change a thing about us.

Heaven and Hell finally united thanks to the love between an angel and a demon.

[rosethornewrites]

NR, E , & M reading since 11/10

Tumblr has issues with imbedding links, so sometimes the URL is included.

Finished

Not Rated:

Before the Thirteen Years Without You, by Bblottiefottie (2 chapters) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/39293991/chapters/98327496)

-Novel Spoilers-

In which Lan Wangji hides an emotionally unstable Wei Wuxian in a cave after the massacre at Nightless City

becoming a ghost, by duravis (https://archiveofourown.org/works/35823868)

Perhaps it’d be easier to turn them away if she were a little more cruel. If her years being brought up by Wen Ruohan had hardened her heart a little more definitively. But—

Here is a wound. Here’s how you fix it.

Explicit:

Coming Back to Yourself, by acernor (7 chapters)

Lan Wangji gets cursed with a ~woman's body~ and has to orgasm to go back. Since he's 1) a virgin 2) super repressed and 3) SUPER gay, he has no idea what to do.

If only he had a super nosy friend who's read lots of erotic novels who could help him figure out what to do... hm...

follow the sound of my song, by sassybluee (🔒, 2 chapters, 2nd in a series)

He reaches up to touch his forehead, to remove the ribbon that has been his constant companion, his constant reminder of who he must be. The one piece of himself that has been with him through everything, from his earliest memories, to his deepest regrets. His entire history is in its very fibres.

His brother lets out a small gasp as his fingers pinch the material, raising his hand as though to reach out and stop him.

Lan Wangji lowers his hand.

___

Lan Wangji begins his new life with Wei Wuxian

call me home and I'll build you a throne, by anaphoricae (8 chapters)

“I’ll help,” Lan Wangji says.

“Hey, Lan Zhan...” Wei Wuxian unfolds his leg and gives his foot a playful kick. “I told you to think about it! This means I’d be here for a long time, taking up your time, your space, your peace. And I can’t pay you! I have nothing of worth to give. It isn’t as simple as-”

“I’ll do it,” he says again, more forcefully this time. “You don’t have to give me anything.”

Wei Wuxian looks away, hiding a small smile. Doesn’t he know Lan Wangji would do anything for him, by now? Doesn’t he understand that he holds Lan Wangji’s life in his hands?

-

POST-CQL Wei Wuxian comes back to the Cloud Recesses to ask for Lan Wangji's help with his new golden core.

Together, they learn how to communicate, how to ask for things, and how to touch each other.

Their relationship develops in between quiet dinners in the Jingshi, meditation sessions, core training and a lot of Lan Juniors speculation on whether or not they're actually together yet.

Mature:

the flutter of a butterfly, by Krissy (https://archiveofourown.org/works/38751807)

The writing described a ritual of some sorts and the more he read, the more he crumpled the paper under his fingers, the more his head started to spin.

His sister. If this worked, he could see his sister again.

☾

One year after Wei Wuxian’s death, Jiang Cheng finds an old ritual that allows one to travel back to the past. He didn’t expect the consequences to be that disastrous.

Jin Ling vs. The 8 Uncles of Sex Education, by Wildcard (https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960575)

(When Jin Ling turns 13, his uncle tries to kill him.

If Jin Ling ever expected a family member to try to murder him, he would’ve thought it would be Jin Chan, that bully, or at least another Jin. He did not expect to be accosted in Lotus Pier, of all places, by his beloved jiujiu.

He definitely did not expect his death to involve a comb.)

Jin Ling would really appreciate it if his uncles would stop trying to give him the talk. Please. Bad enough to receive it once but to have to listen to it EIGHT TIMES from uncles who are convinced the other uncles didn’t do a good enough job?

(And just when he thinks his suffering is over, an uncle COMES BACK FROM THE DEAD to educate him. Jin Ling is cursed.)

the shapes a bright container can contain, by litbynosun (3 chapters) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/24598735/chapters/59419996)

"Lan Zhan, look at this," Wei Wuxian calls. "They don't have organs, but they're all… fuzzy."

He gently strokes the corpse's arm -- it's covered in soft, pigmentless downy hair, like a rabbit.

Lan Wangji crouches next to him and nods.

"Lanugo," he says.

Wei Wuxian raises one eyebrow.

"They were malnourished for quite a while before death," Lan Wangji elaborates.

Wei Wuxian scans the bodies again. Indeed, they both have sunken cheeks, and their abdomens are empty of both organs and fat padding.

“That’s a question,” he says. “Did they starve to death, and have their bodies desecrated after they were already deceased? Or were they murdered, and simply starving at the same time?”

"We should stay," Lan Wangji tells him.

This is not an answer to his question. It is an offer to search for answers.

Or: Wei Wuxian and his family solve a ghost haunting. Wei Wuxain's old enemy, societal injustice, rears its head again.

Unfinished

Not Rated:

The Cultivation World Needs a Reset, by FangirlingIsLife (https://archiveofourown.org/works/55413919/chapters/140600317)

Do not succumb to anger.

It was one of the founding rules of the Lan Clan and yet Lan Zhan could feel nothing other than a cold fury filling his veins.

He watched as his husband in all but ceremony let himself fall to Jiang Cheng’s blade.

Even at his death, his soul mate would never raise a hand to defend himself against their tyranny.

Well fuck that.

Beiming: To Lament- 33 Reasons to Change the Past, by ravenhg (🔒)

It had been one week since Wei Wuxian’s life ended.

One week since his love, his life, his everything, had been ambushed by remnants of Jin Guangyao and Su She’s followers.

Wei Wuxian really should have known better.

“What will you do, gongzi?” Wen Ning asked quietly.

Wei Wuxian smiled, his eyes burning like coals.

_____________________

Or:

After the death of the most important person in their lives, Wei Wuxian and Lan Qiren choose to return to the past to prevent everything. This changes things.

Explicit:

The Threads of Fate, by WaitForTheSnitch

“What would you do if you could have him back?” Nie Huaisang asked him, a bit too seriously as he leaned forward.

“There is no way for a dead cultivator to return,” Jiang Cheng scoffed, not even willing to entertain the thought.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” Nie Huaisang shrugged, “Even if he came back, that wouldn’t do much to help, would it? Your sister is still gone. His reputation still damaged.”

“Stop speaking in riddles,” Jiang Wanyin growled, “What did you come here for, Nie Huaisang?”

“I asked you what you would do for your brother back,” Nie Huaisang started, “I would do anything to have mine back, Jiang Wanyin. And I’m here to offer you that same choice. Because our brothers’ deaths never should have happened. They happened because of schemes and plots. They happened because of lies and deception. Your brother was made to be a villain and was led to his death because he was too powerful. Mine was murdered because he stood in the way of Jin Guangshan.”

There's nothing Jiang Cheng wouldn't do to have his siblings back. And when Nie Huaisang comes to him with a proposal to save them by changing everything, he doesn't even hesitate to agree.

Little One, by LovelyTurtleBeans

During the Phoenix Mountain Hunt, Lan Wangji confesses that he was the one who kissed Wei Wuxian. The talk escalates into something more and, before they know it, they're entangled in bed in one of the guest rooms in Jinlintai. Time passes and the freeing of the Wen Remnants and Wei Wuxian's defection come to pass. The future is uncertain, and both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are on unclear waters until...

Mature:

Mine and mine alone, by Lanwangjisnights

He likes to live out his kinks, but hadn’t found anyone matching his preferences yet, has given up the hope to find someone capable to satisfy his itches.

But today, today he needs to go under. Needs someone to make sure he is pleasured, instead of going through tremendous efforts himself to find a semblance of satisfaction.

Lan Zhan opens the filters, adds a tick on everything he searches for today. Or tomorrow. Or in the very near future - It doesn’t matter as long as it’s soon. Dominance. Bondage. Subspace. Rough Sex.

Or:

Lan Zhan finds Dominant Yiling Laozu on a Kink Website, meets up with him and falls incurably in love.

A lotus instead of a orchid, by Sammie224466 (https://archiveofourown.org/works/18552892/chapters/43975183)

What if, that night on the Burial Mounds, Jiang WanYin had been the one to find Wen Yuan instead of Lan WangJi and he wound up raising the child?

To Ride A Stygian Tiger, by Madyamisam (https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143639/chapters/55386229)

Wei Wuxian changes fate and is wounded while saving Jin Zixuan at the Qiongqi bridge and a great mystery starts to unravel many hidden secrets never known before. While trying to deal with his own increasing madness, seeing threats everywhere in past, present and future, he sets an impossible task to save everyone he ever cared about with his very life and soul.

Alternate, by Hanashi_o_suru

No one is actually sure what happened, or why it happened. No one died. No one made any whacked up array that backfired --to their knowledge--and no one wasn't necessarily in discontent for where they were in life...

So, why is it they're suddenly in the past to the day they had just got to the Cloud Recesses?

[2023himbotournament]

CONTACT YOUR GOVERNMENT AND DEMAND A CEASEFIRE FOR PALESTINE

For Eu look up:

Voices in Europe for peace

For Usa look up:

US campaign for Palestinian rights

BOYCOTT FOR PALESTINE

FOA (Friends of Al-Aqsa) have organized a boycott in support of palestine. Here are the key companies to boycott:

HP (Hewlett Packard)

Coca-Cola

Israeli produce

We will be ending our call to boycott

PUMA once the contract with IFA officially dissolves in 2024. Until then, we encourage you to continue boycotting PUMA products.

Please help to spread the word by sending this copypasta to as many blogs as you can and/or going to FOAs website where you can find posters to download and print out

Ok I'm not a copypasta person unless it's memes but like. Look I'm not Palestinian but I'm also a Southwest Asian and my mental health has definitely deteriorated seeing just. Everything. Especially the increase in racism and islamophobia (I'm also muslim) and seeing all the hate crimes and knowing that someone could probably shoot me in the head while I'm writing gay fanfiction in public and justify it by saying that I could've been a dangerous terrorist and therefore my entire family tree must be eradicated-

basically what I'm trying to say is that I'm hoping that making this post on the himbo tourney blog will get some eyes on this. Like. I've been feeling really powerless about this and kinda just like shriveling up and dying lately. Tbh. The world is fxcked right now. In the year of our lord 2024 /ref, here we are post undertale we are being pro-genocide how funny is that haha. It's not funny. It's. It's not. It's not funny . I can't. I've seen too many videos of children dying and crying and I just. I saw the one thing about the kid with cerebral palsy whose parents got shot right in front of them for literally no reason and then they got yelled at by soldiers and like. People literally will look at this and call these people animals?? I saw that term get thrown around a lot. It's just disgusting and like.

have people seen the bingo the literal genocide bingo. People are treating this like a joke like. Do people not realize that Southwest Asian people are like... people??? We're people you know. Like this is mainly targeting Arabs but I've seen stuff about people discriminating against the rest of us too (mainly because they can't tell the difference. Because the idea of not treating Asian cultures as interchangeable applies until you get to Southwest Asia I guess even in progressive circles everyone just says Arab for everything even here I've seen people like-). I'm Persian and I'm still scared someone will cut my life off. I'm 16. Nowruz is next week and I just want to live to it with my family. My mind is inundated wit the tears of the families that had never gotten to have their celebrations. Because of one group on one day.

one group on one day. One group on one day. it's always that. it's always that for people like us.I feel like I'm going insane. It's just 9/11 in America all over again. I wasn't even born for that. But you can just feel it all around you. And now we have the sequel, across the world. But it's used the same way. 7/23. Can't wait for the memes /s. This one thing happens therefore we can dedicate multiple months to killing all of you just making you suffer stripping your dignity you don't deserve anything and we'll make the world hate you because fxck you and then the world goes along with it because nothing good ever happens and I just want to escape from this but every time I go on tumblr it's just this and I know if I ever stop seeing this it means that the worst has happened anyway

and then people try to act like YOU'RE the bigot because you're trying to hold a country's government and military force responsible for war crimes just because the country has its branding in minority groups. How about I make this crystal clear: I don't give a flying fxck about what Israel is, it's what it's doing that matters. I'd be saying nearly the same shzt if they were PERSIAN, and that is MY ETHNICITY. I literally do not care. It doesn't matter. Because killing people is wrong and that should not be a controversial statement but I guess some people like the sound of screams in the morning. The Palestinian death toll has surpassed the 7/23 death toll. And it's still going. And not all the deaths have even been accounted for because bodies are still buried under rubble. Because they're still bombing people and they won't stop. And no one will make them stop.

like I don't give a fxck about Hamas either, I heard some of the members did genuinely say some like directly quoted antisemitic shzt and also they like condoned a racist caricature of a black woman in a magazine I think but I'm not sure about the second one (I know the magazine thing definitely happened but I'm not sure of their like involvement at all-) like. I don't need to suck there dzcks like some people do it's one group of fxcks like I don't. They're just the excuse being used for this. You're bombing the entire population of a country where the majority population is fzcking tater tots. You're attacking children. You are killing children. Paint yourself purple. Dammit. Just. Again it's 9/11 all over again but in another country.

even then like it's like. You know that trope in cartoons that shows up more often than you'd think that was in like Avatar and Korra and RWBY I think where there's like a fictional minority that is oppressed and wants rights and then active protest is represented by an evil terrorist group who attacks people and is the villains of the media and passive protest is always portrayed as good and active protest is evil and there's no nuance and also they just frame the group as just like evil spawned out of nowhere not addressing that they literally would not exist if not for the truly evil system of oppression that basically created them. Like.

You know Hamas only exists because Palestinians were already treated like shzt right? Like they were already displaced and didn't consent to the whole Israel thing and like look up Nakba it's fzcking awful like. Hamas is just a symptom of the disease and there will just be another Hamas if you try to knock it down without actually like. Doing anything about. the fact that Palestinians are oppressed. but people will just act like you can keep punching at Hamas like that'll result in anything like they're the flowers not the roots y'know-

also I'm calling it here, this entire thing is gonna definitely be used down the line by Neo-nazis I mean it kinda already is being used to justify antisemitism but like I saw the stuff of people trying to redefine antisemitism to be synonymous with antizionism and make isrseli and jewish synonymous and to basically gatekeep jewishness from anti-zionist jews (I'm not kidding I actually saw shzt like that) and it's like. Y'all they're gonna turn around in a year or two like "ohhh look at the big bad scary jews- I mean Israelis their identity is literally tied to the genocide of Palestinians they are inherently evil there is no denying it!" (Ignoring the fact that the USA and other bastards of colonization did the same shzt as Israel literally the same story history is repeating itself but we have social media brands this time-). And then like what the fxck do you do about it when the word antisemitic now means anticolonialist so no one takes it seriously anymore. What the fxck are you supposed to do about that. And when they probably made themselves right because they probably contributed to Palestinian Genocide themselves they don't care they're just using them as props in their fxcking jew hatred. But like. Yeah you are now tied to this nationality that is tied to fxcking genocide what do you do? It's like perfect to use for fearmongering around Jewish people since the shzt they used before somehow worked despite literally being pulled out of their xss istg like where the fxck did any of the bank stuff come from like. The fzck?-

im tired. I'm so tired. Both in the literal "It's past 1am" sense and the less literal "make the stop" sense.

I just don't want people to die. I just want people to be happy. I just want people to not suffer but every day it feels like it's getting worse and I just want something to change for the better and I'm scared. Why do people act like it's a bad thing to not want people to suffer? I don't understand. I just. I just don't understand. I. am I naive? For this?

does this wish make me naive?

[orangewsunglasses]

ok listen

i've always liked chuuya as a character, his design is awesome, i love his personality, the dynamics he has with ither characters, all that good stuff right??? In general i just really love chuuya, but only having the main series to go off of, i didn't know much about his character nor did i really understand him very well

BUT, halfway now through storm bringer, i can safely say he is genuinely my favorite character in bsd. Reading it has exposed so much more of his character, and ive been able to marinate in my thoughts about him for a while now.

Now, again, im only a bit more than halfway through, so my thoughts and opinions are probably going to change. But i can't see how chuuya ISNT human. Like, okay, fine, he was born from a lab, from a singularity, he's the splitting image of an actual boy that "was chuuya" before chuuya was born. But I can't see how any of that matters when the life he is currently living is so painfully human.

That anger isn't just arahabaki, that's his own fucking emotion. That loneliness and betrayal and all of that shit is not just some sort of product of code. He is feeling all of those human emotions viscerally, and if you ask me, that makes him human.

He is so stuck between blaming himself for everything and seeing how many things were just simply out of his control, and I think that divide is showed with his friends in the mafia and The Sheep. One side doesn't blame him for anything, they never did. Their deaths were not chuuya's fault, no matter the reason verlaine was after them. How could chuuya know? The Sheep on the other hand, more specifically shirase, blame him for a lot. The fact that chuuya was taken in by them is lorded over him, and the whole "chuuya betrayed the sheep" is well, idk man, bullshit??? it was never chuuya's intent to destroy and leave behind the sheep, he always meant to protect them. Then there's Dazai, who seems to be the only one to see and understand him. I've barely reached the part of storm bringer where he comes back to "see Chuuya suffer as a human", (that line fucking KILLED me) so i dont have much comment on him rn.

I just srsly had to say how much i really truly love chuuya's character now. He will always be human, fuck being born in a lab. I know im saying nothing new, but I can yap all I want, ranting to myself about this was not enough and i needed to go to tumblr lol

tldr; chuuya is human and i bleed for him what the actual hell

[sturmovik]

Elden Ring: my new player experience so far

I finally picked up Elden Ring on sale after all these years. I knew it would be difficult for me as a casual gamer who's never played a FromSoft game before but I've been itching to try it out for years now. Here's what's happened to me so far:

(some early game spoilers btw. for those who want to visualize, my Tarnished is a Vagabond Knight that kinda looks like Saoirse Ronan)

The First Hour:

I struggled hard with the PC controls. Eventually managed to limp my way into a cave where I killed an angry dog man after dying to it like 3 times (skill issue + i'm not comfy with the controls yet). Only after all that did I rest at a grace site outdoors. That's when Melina appeared and said "You suck. Here's a horse."

Wandering:

I spend some time going around aimlessly, killing whatever small fry I run into to get my level up as much as possible. I was feeling confident so I decided to challenge the Tree Sentinel. I was most comfortable using the halberd and I read he drops a good one. As expected, I died multiple times. Eventually, Renna appeared and said "You suck. Here, use summons" (i still couldnt beat the tree sentinel)

WTF:

For the next 2 or so hours I accomplish nothing except killing more small mobs. At one of the ruin sites I massacre some unarmed... people(?) and then deal with some giant rats. A player message said the chest was a trap but I love Frieren and I know she wouldn't let that silly message stop her.

It was a teleport trap to some godsforsaken mine in a hellish death zone. Surprisingly I only died 3 times before I successfully escaped. During those three attempts I followed a phantom I saw jumping up so I also jumped up and followed that path upward (i'm in a mine, and the exits to mines are upwards duh), managing to juke the big monsters and kill one of the smaller ones that got in my way. I made it to a gate which I assumed was the escape/entrance route. I did it. Now I can get away on Torrent with some runes to spare!

To my horror, the gate opened to an isolated chamber, and a health bar appeared on screen with the words "FALLINGSTAR BEAST." I could only watch helplessly while my character was locked in an animation pushing the gate open to meet certain death. Fuck it, we ball. (there's no happy ending here, I suck at this game lol)

Turns out all I had to do was run downstairs a bit to get away.

The Erdtree:

I think there was grace in the mine but I didn't use it because I wanted to see where I ended up. I surveyed the red hellscape before me, and thought, "yeah this sucks I'm going back Limgrave." I mounted Torrent and began taking the scenic route back to greener pastures.

That's when I noticed that the Erdtree was much closer than before. So I decided to go for it. Let's head to the big tree and become Elden Lord! We fell off a cliff and died.

At this point, I have accomplished nothing but the multiplication of my own pain and suffering. Waking at the nearest site of grace, Melina appeared once again and spoke thus: "You're an idiot. Welcome to the Roundtable."

-- In summary, I feel like one of those absolute loser main characters in a fantasy/isekai anime that's stuck killing rats in some ungodly corner of the world trying to build up skills and power to eventually kill God. Idk if I'll ever get there because so far I am horrible at learning attack patterns and can't seem to time movement/dodging to save my life but so far the journey has been hilarious and I want to keep going.

(decided to post here cuz r/EldenRing automatically deletes this there. I read the rules and dont seem to be breaking any of them, even tagged spoilers and all. so fuck 'em. wassup tumblr)