#any further messages like this will result in a block because I’ve been trying to be nice but I’m sick of letting others try to take | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

smitcr · 2 years ago

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𓅖𓆓𓂧𓐦𓀭 ≈ "ꜱᴍɪᴛᴇʀ", "ᴄʀᴜꜱʜᴇʀ".

─ indie rp blog for the ancient Egyptian god, "ᴍᴇᴅᴊᴇᴅ" (mḏd, or metchet). An obscure god of punishment and smiting. Private, Selective, low-activity, lighthearted, & primarily iconless. Sideblog to @bcneheaded. Loved by Emory. * beta only user. Primarily Moonknight related, but otherwise fandomless.

✧ mobile friendly rules + muse info under the cut ✧

RULES:

➤ Well hey! My name is Emory; I’m 27 (they or he please!). Thanks for coming to read this! I’ll try to keep it as brief as I can. This is a selective, low-activity blog for an OC of mine. Created, developed and loved by me! :)

➤ When sending memes/asks please try to specify a muse that you're interacting with if you're a multi-muse blog, otherwise you may be ignored, or I may prioritize others before you.

➤ I work a full-time job, and often struggle with my mental health, as well as deal with chronic pain – I may take a long time to respond both ooc and ic because of this; I apologize in advance. It’s not because I don’t want to write or talk with you, I promise! I’m also quite forgetful, so don’t be afraid to nudge me if I haven’t gotten back to you in a few days time; but on the same breath, please don’t hound me for responses.

➤ This blog is Mutuals-Only. General rule of thumb is that if you're followed by @bcneheaded, then we're mutuals here and on any of my sideblogs that you decide to follow! However, though I'll follow from the main blog to indicate mutuals, you are NOT obligated to interact with the main blog. Similarly, if you follow a sideblog but not my main one, or used to follow the mainblog but soft that one + continue following the sideblog I'll just assume you're still cool interacting from that singular blog.

➤ I’m not follow for follow, so that means I only follow those that I’m interested in writing with! I also read everyone’s rules and character information before following/interacting, and expect the same from others. I won’t follow those without a rules page or a finished (or mostly at least) character info page; I like to know who I’m writing with! I follow from @bcneheaded as that is the main blog this one is attached to. If I believe you haven't bothered to read my information, I'll likely unfollow/softblock you.

➤ I ask you to please do not repeatedly unfollow and refollow me (or likewise like/unlike things) to get my attention; this behavior will result in a hardblock. Please communicate with me if you need or want something.

➤ Triggers will be tagged as trigger tw. Things I need you to tag for me are ped*philia, and emetophobia (irrational fear of v*mit** For me, in example… Saying you threw up is OK, but do not discuss or describe it any further than that please. Thank you.] ) If you deliberately ignore or frequently forget this rule, you will be blocked and anything we have will be dropped.

➤ Quality over quantity! But of course, please don’t give me a sentence in return for a couple paragraphs. On a similar note, I have the tendency to ramble. So please don’t feel the need to match my length if I’ve gone off and made the thread quite long. I’ll be happy with just about anything you give in return!

➤ Ships will be based on chemistry and mun to mun comfort, and are possible here. Though given the nature of the muse, it may be a bit of a long game, or a difficult thing to initiate. Discussion for pre-established relationships of any sort are super welcome and encouraged though! He's never been in love before

➤ I love continuing ask memes as threads and I definitely encourage you to do so if you’d like to. I likely won't offer starters, so these are a great way to break the ice. Just be sure to @ me if you do continue something!

➤ I don’t do drama, so please don’t involve me in it. Any passive aggressive or hateful asks or messages will be ignored and whoever it is sending it will be blocked. The anonymous feature is a privilege, please don’t abuse it.

➤ NSFW content of sexual nature is very unlikely to appear here... but ya never know I guess. NSFW themes may be more likely to appear in terms of DARK themes, as this muse is horror based. (depictions and mention of death, parental death, violence, animal death, etc will all appear here.) But these kinds of things will be tagged as such. The catchall tag will be “ ( horror tw ) ” if it warrants it.

~ These rules subject to change over time, but if/when they do I’ll be sure to make a post about it to let ya know! Thank you for your time; it’s appreciated!

_________________

BACKSTORY:

(X) <-- from here, basic info below.

Medjed is a lesser known Egyptian god that had only been rediscovered recently. Not much is known about Medjed as he was written about on very few occasions, unlike most Egyptian gods who are commonly depicted through art, Medjed only has two known pieces of art depicting him. All of this adds to his mysterious nature.

Medjed as the god of punishment, punishing those who do evil deeds including the gods.

Medjed was rediscovered in the Book of the Dead. Medjed for a long period of time was relatively unknown, no other manuscripts mention Medjed. But in 1910 the Greenfield papyrus, a 121 foot mosaic was discovered with the full appearance of Medjed.

When the Greenfield papyrus was shown off in japan, Medjed grew exponentially in popularity in japan. He quickly became a cult icon.

Appearance

Medjed's appearance is commonly described as unknown or unseen. However in the art depicting him Medjed is depicted as a being with a body of cloth, human feet, and two eyes.

As most Egyptian gods are depicted in a side profile, Medjed's frontward facing depiction alienates him from the rest of the gods even more.

Personality

Medjed is commonly described as strange, his general disposition puts most gods at unease. His presence causes all in his path to freeze in fear.

His relationship with Osiris is more friendly however, the two are on friendly terms as Medjed deals out the Justice onto the dead that Osiris presides over.

Despite his status as a god, Medjed's justice isn't only for humans, as he has fought and killed several evil gods in the past.

Myths and Legends

Medjed is a member of the house of Osiris, his role in Du'at is unknown. However in the Book of the Dead he is described as the smiter, in other translations Medjed was described as being someone with great authority, which has led to the belief that Medjed was a god of justice who dulled out punishment to those who did evil.

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flowerbull · 2 years ago

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🌱🌻𝐹𝐿𝒪𝒲𝐸𝑅𝐵𝒰𝐿𝐿🌷🌼 ≈ 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳… 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘳.

─ indie rp blog for a minotaur oc. 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐬-𝐀𝐫𝐥𝐨. ( 𝘰𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵… 𝘈𝘙𝘓𝘖. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘮𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮.) Private, Selective, low-activity, iconless. Sideblog to @bcneheaded. Loved by Emory. * beta only user.

useful links: memes / opens / interest tracker

✧ mobile friendly rules + muse info under the cut ✧

RULES:

➤ When sending memes/asks please try to specify a muse that you're interacting with if you're a multi-muse blog, otherwise you may be ignored, or I may prioritize others before you.

➤ This blog is Mutuals-Only. General rule of thumb is that if you're followed by @bcneheaded, then were mutuals here and on any of my sideblogs that you decide to follow! However, though I'll follow from the main blog to indicate mutuals, you are NOT obligated to interact with the main blog.

_________________

~ These rules subject to change over time, but if/when they do I’ll be sure to make a post about it to let ya know! Thank you for your time; it’s appreciated!

xxx —credit to @/rpiconsgalore for the banners and page break(s)!

BACKSTORY:

So she raised him like he was her own. And watched as he grew and grew and grew... He wasn't human, and he wasn't a bull... But whatever he was, he was her little boy and she was his mama... and she loved him very much. And it showed in the way he was raised. She taught him what it was to be loved and how to love in return, she taught him how to be gentle, and how to stand his ground when necessary, and when to run away. She taught him that he was different, that people might be afraid of him and it was safer to avoid strangers... but perhaps even more importantly, she taught him that although he was different, and others may hold fear over him through not understanding those who are different.... she taught him that there was nothing wrong with him.

There once was a german woman who was tired of her life. So she moved far, far away and started a new life, far from the cities and lights and convenience and into a life of calluses, sunburns, and cold nights. But she loved it, she did. It was everything she'd ever wanted, even if it was a difficult life-- all but living off the grid.

One day, she found something in the far edges of her field... She heard what she thought was a calf crying out for it's mama. And it was-- or so she thought. Until she got up close and held the poor thing in her arms. She didn't know what he was, this creature that had the head of a cow, and bend legs like one too -- but the body shaped like a child. A human. It mewled desperately in her arms, eyes still blue and unseeing in their newness. She looked around for days for the things mother, tried laying bait and asking around town if anyone had seen any odd creatures or stray cows, even... but to no avail.

Arlo loves music, westerns (like his mama), strawberries, and ranch animals. He was just a little boy that was different, helping his mama tend to the ranch and snuggling up with his stuffed animals when it came time for bed. One day, as life does... His mama got sick. He tended to her, and loved her in her final days, and when she didn't get better and died... he buried her out back, under the tree they'd spent so many afternoons reading comics and eating apples under.

He eventually got too big for the house, so squeezing in one last time, he grabbed what he needed (knocking a few things over unfortunately)-- a picture of him and his mama, his stuffed cow she'd made him when he was small, some clothes.... The essentials. And he moved into the old barn out back instead.

He's lived there by himself ever since... He still tends to the farm, bales the hay and harvests the crops, feeds the chickens and cows until they got too old and died too. And now... he's alone, mostly. Chickens were easy to tend to and breed, so were the goats. So now, if you walk a few miles out of your way, you might find this property... thriving somehow, under the watchful eye of what would appear to be in the distance to any unknowing traveler to be a large bull, laying down in the grass far away. Protecting his mama's house, and the things he loves.

He's a good boy man. He's gentle, and caring, and smart and full of life and love for life.... but he's also big, strong, and scary. Very scary. And extremely protective of the property. Nobody bothers him though, usually. He's had to defend himself once or twice... unfortunate as it was. But for as terrifyingly large and powerful a creature he is, he is good. His mama's love made him so. You can find him in his barn sometimes, listening to his radio, reading old comics, sitting on his bed he made. He's lonely... but it's okay. It's for the best, he thinks.

#( pinned post )#( rules )#( about )#( DNI )

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rainbowsans · 3 years ago

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alright this needs to be addressed but I’ve gotten really tired of it at this point. I’m getting really sick of having to see or deal with messages on my inbox and DM’s of people writing me full paragraphs as to how hurt they are of my rules because I dislike certain things they like and don’t wanna interact for my own sake and boundary and try to guilt trip me into making me feeling bad about MY own rule.

If your first instinct when reading my rules are “I’m so hurt and betrayed I’m going to send frech paragraphs of messages stating how hurt I am, and that I’m unfollowing him because clearly I am the problem”

then don’t bother, just unfollow me. It’s not my problem, I dont have to reply to you; because I shouldn’t care. If you read my rules and respect me as a content creator and person even tho you like some of the stuff there and go “I now acknowledge that you and I like different things but now that I know you stated you find this thing uncomfortable then I’m going to keep that in mind and follow your guidelines regardless because I like your content!” Then cool beans we’re chill!

But don’t try to guilt trip me over trying to set boundaries in my own blog, because if that’s the case then please unfollow me. Me putting up those rules isn’t a personal attack towards you, it is me just trying to be comfortable here as I make content you all enjoy in my own space away from stuff that makes me uncomfortable. That’s all. If you respect that then that’s it, we just chill and go on our normal day. It’s not the end of the world.

#txt #it clearly upsets me people do this because I know they don’t respect me as a person #but PLEASE don’t do this #any further messages like this will result in a block because I’ve been trying to be nice but I’m sick of letting others try to take #advantage of it #please just respect my boundaries and we’ll be ok I promise you

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hereforhalstead · 4 years ago

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Prove it

*Gif not mine, credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Yes.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me walk you home/ If i asked you to stay, would you?”

• Warnings: swearing/ mention of drugs

• Summary: Jay insists on walking you home after a night in Molly’s but after seeing you with Adam he decides to tell you how he feels.

• Words: 2893.

• A/N : Hope you enjoyed! Thanks so much for the request, I’m feeling motivated to get writing again due to all of the lovely messages and chats I’ve had over the past few days. Please feel free to send across any requests or prompts that you would and as always my inbox is always open :)

***

“Cheers to no one getting injured on a drug bust for the first time” Adam announces as you all raise your glasses in amusement “Not even you Halstead, gotta be a first. Right?” he adds but Jay rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his drink “Listen, It’s not me you should be congratulating. Y/N is always the one who does something without thinking and gets herself hurt, you should be directing this at her” he tips his glass towards you and you give him a menacing look “Talk about beat around the bush” you mumble but Jay’s chuckle is enough to break your facade as you mirror his grin “Just saying” he shrugs and winks.

The team had just finished up on what felt like a month long operation, in reality you had been planning it a week or so but the observations and scoping out the area made it feel so much longer. You managed to get the guy you were after and as Adam said, miraculously all of you had avoided injury which was definitely a first. His speech was clearly aimed towards you and Jay out of anyone, Jay was known for getting far too attached and close to cases which often blinded his awareness of danger. You were very similar in that if you saw an opportunity to help someone out you would take it, not weighing up the situation and resulting in you taking risks you probably shouldn’t.

Because of this, you and Jay had each others backs. Of course everyone had everyones back but not in this way. You’d seemed to have grown a close bond due to you both being very similar in the way you work and think, often knowing what the other is going to do before they even think it. As much of this being a good thing, it has often not panned out as the other will take the first step to try and protect the other and things going south, you’d probably put yourself in more danger trying to prevent Jay getting hurt rather than a result of your own misjudgment. Jay was the same, not thinking about himself and would rather put himself in a compromising position instead of you - sounds twisted but that’s just the way your partnership worked.

By this point, you’d had a few drinks but was cutting yourself off. You had an early shift in the morning and the thought of the pile of paperwork on your desk reminded you it was not something you wanted to tackle with a hangover. No one else seemed to think the same way, this was soon proved as Hailey made her way back from the bar with another tray of shots. “Oh none for me, I’m having a quiet one tonight” you excused yourself and carried on sipping the remainder of your drink.

“Yeah, I’m also out. Don’t want to be feeling rough with all that paperwork tomorrow” Jay winced and you laughed to yourself at how similar your thoughts always were. “Something you two aren’t telling us?” Hailey downs one of the shots and you almost choke on your drink “Are you being serious?” you question and she shrugs her shoulders with a click of her tounge “I don’t think it’s just me that thinks it, I overheard Kev and Adam gossiping the other day” you dart your attention over to a stunned Kevin who simply purses his lips and turns to Adam for him to defend “I-I.. Don’t know what she’s talking about” he stutters out “You couldn’t come up with something better?” Kevin mumbles under his breath and you shake your head “Nothing to report, right Jay?” you hand over to Jay who was quietly sipping on his nearly finished drink “What? Oh.. right”

You smile back at Hailey but she doesn’t seem satisfied “I’m just saying, I don’t think he would run into a burning building for much but if you were on the top floor he would be sprinting up them stairs” Kim widens her eyes at Hailey who seems so casual about everything she is saying but you weren’t taking it as lightly and were now feeling slightly uncomfortable “Well on that note, I think I’m gonna head out” you place your empty glass back on the bar and hear them continue to bicker being you “Good one” Adam curses at Hailey who again doesn’t seem fazed “I’m just saying what we’re all thinking. You can’t tell me they’re both so oblivious to it as well”. Adam runs his hand along his jawline and stands to pick your jacket up which had fallen on the floor, you hear him mutter a soft ‘sorry’ which you acknowledge with a forced smile “I’ll see you tomorrow”.

You shrug your jacket on and head for the door, slightly underestimating how cold Chicago can be and regretting not picking up a thicker coat. You start the traitorous walk down the road but feel your phone buzz in your pocket

‘Stop walking and wait for me’

You squint to see who it was from and your heart slightly picks up speed when you say Jay’s name at the top of the screen, you come to a stop and turn to look over your shoulder. Not seeing anyone there you carry on walking but keep your phone in your grasp when it vibrates again

‘What did I just say Y/N..’

You chuckle at the message and take another look behind you but this time seeing Jay a few steps away “you really don’t listen for shit do you” he greets and you scoff “Well, nice to see you too”. You carry on walking and Jay jogs to catch up and walks closely alongside you “Early night for you as well then?” you break the silence and he just nods with his hands stuffed in his pockets “Not as good when you’re partners not there” he remains with his eyes pinned to the path ahead and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks and are suddenly grateful for the darkness so he can’t see. You come to a stop and Jay turns back to look at you confused “You don’t live this way? In fact that way” you point in the opposite direction you’re walking and his eyes quickly dart back to you “You think I’d let you walk home alone?” he almost chuckles to himself but you don’t match his amusement “Jay, it’s not even 8pm and I’ve only had a few drinks. Thank you but I’m fine” you pat him on the shoulder and continue walking, you barely get a step away when he’s back by your side.

“I get that, but I’d feel better if you let me walk you home “. You’re reminded that you still have your phone in your hand when you feel it vibrate, you look down to see Adam’s name flash up on the screen. You show Jay the screen and you can’t help but notice the way he seems to straighten up when he reads the name, you ignore this and answer the phone “Hey Adam” you chime and Jay vaguely hears him respond on the other end “Hold on a minute” you put the phone to your shoulder to muffle the speaker and so Adam can’t hear “Look, if I stay on the phone with Adam and walk home alone. Will that make you feel better?” you whisper to Jay who clears his throat and nods “Do whatever you want” he responds in a harsh but quiet tone before heading back towards the bar. “Sorry, as you were saying..” you turn your attention back to the phone call and carry on your journey home.

The phone call only last a few minutes after Jay left but you made a note to tell Jay it was the full length of your journey home if he ever asks.. You step in the elevator to your apartment block and click the button for your floor, you grasp at the hand rail behind you and lean your head back on the mirror, you were shattered and just ready for bed. The elevator chimes and the doors open, as you exit and head for your apartment you find yourself rummaging around your pockets to find your key, you turn the corner and nearly jump out of your skin as you see Jay stood outside your door, leaning on the wall with his knee bent and foot resting below him.

He sees your reaction and turns to face you walking towards him “sorry I didn’t mean to make you jump” he softly whispers as you turn the key in the lock “Maybe don’t wait outside my front door when I’m not expecting anyone to be there smart ass” you hit back, still not sure on his attitude when he left you earlier.

You walk in the apartment and hang your jacket on the hook but turn back to see Jay still hadn’t moved “You coming in or did you come all this way to stand in the hall?” you question but head further in, leaving the door open. You pour yourself a glass of water and hear the door close and the floorboards creak as Jay walks over to join you “What’s going on Jay?” you ask as he leans on the doorframe and therefore making it difficult for you to get past “What did Adam want?” he tilts his head to question but you can tell he isn’t feeling as confident as he wants you to think. You exhale in a laugh and take a step towards him, you expect him to move but he stands his ground and remains in his spot. This forces you to step sideways out of the door, your body glides closely with his. So much so that if you had looked up as you passed him your faces would’ve been inches apart as he looked down at you. You huff and place your glass of water on the side and begin to take your shoes off by the sofa “Just wanted to apologize again for Hailey, I don’t know I wasn’t really listening” you trail off as you find your attention is now more on Jay’s actions and what he’s doing.

It takes him a minute to turn from where he is standing and face you, you walk in front of him and lean the back of your legs on the sofa to examine him, his eyes flick up and down your body and you reach for your drink to try and act like you didn’t notice “So you’d rather have him keep you company on your walk home than me, I see” he confidentially takes a stride towards you and folds his arms across his chest. You can’t help but notice the way his arms bulge through the tightness of his shirt and struggle to keep your eyes on him and not roaming to admire them “Grow up Jay” you scoff but see him take another step towards you “what are you even doing here anyway?” you add but he remains silent.

“If you’re just gonna stand and not say anything I’m gonna leave you here and go to bed” you stand from your spot and step away from him and towards your room. You’re stopped in your tracks when his arm latches onto your wrist to stop you “Hailey was right you know” he keeps his grasp on you tight, not in a way that it hurts but almost as if he was worried that otherwise you would walk off.

You open your mouth to speak but he soon cuts you off “I mean not about the fact there isn’t much I would run into a burning building for, as we know from past experiences that isn’t true” you laugh at the memory from when he darted back into an old house that had just caught alight because he had left his phone on the side but he seems to regain your attention “You know what, It’s late I should probably go” he releases his hold on you and you can’t ignore the emptiness you feel from loosing the tiniest bit of contact from him “You can’t be serious Jay. You can’t say that and then leave?” you both fall silent as you wait for the other to speak but you weren’t going to crack first.

“I didn’t plan on coming here Y/N. I didn’t think I would be standing here saying this to you but you were on the phone to Adam and instead of me heading home I found myself coming here to make sure you got home safe. I wish I didn’t care if you were on the phone to him when you walked home, but I do Y/N. I care that it’s me that you choose to keep you company and I’m the one to make sure you’re safe because quite frankly I don’t trust anyone else and especially you to make sure that you are. You’re the most caring person I know and honestly it terrifies me because I know you won’t stop at anything to make sure everyone around you is fine, even if it means that you aren’t and I’m sorry but it’s true”. The way his chest is quickly rising and falling from his outburst stuns you, you’d seen him loose control of his emotions before but not like this. He always struggles to hide his true feelings and shows alot of emotion, but in more actions than words and you never thought you’d see him act this way towards you.

“That’s great Jay, just great. Here you are turning up at my door because you don’t trust me to keep myself safe. You’re my partner Jay you’re supposed to trust me an-” you begin to retaliate but yet again he is there to cut you off “I do trust you Y/N. I trust you with my life and I trust you a fuck tonne more than anyone else I know but I know you won’t stop at anything to make sure everyone else is okay, so is it so bad that I wanted to make sure you got home safe?” you find him now stood inches from you and you had absentmindedly mirrored his actions but tensely hanging your arms by your side, so rigid that you can’t bring yourself to move them “So what, if I asked you to stay. Would you?” you half heartedly laugh as you almost expect him to shrug if off and give you some funny look.

“Of course I would Y/N. Are you not listening to me? I would stay tonight, I would stay tomorrow. I would stay every god damn day if I could. I don’t wait you on the phone to another guy when it should be me, I should be the one making you feel safe and not anyone else” his tone and volume picks up again just when he seemed to be calming down and you curse yourself for making him react this way again. You take another step towards him as he tries to say something else, you raise your finger to his lip to stop him. His eyes flicker between your fingertip and then back to you in confusion but he doesn’t say another word. The desperation in his eyes as he scans your face makes your heart ache and you feel it alight something within you “Just don’t say another word” you bring your face towards him and place a quick kiss onto his skin “Take your anger out on me”. You run your fingertip along his jawline run your thumb along his bottom lip to place another kiss to the side of his neck “Y/N” he warns, his voice now in a low and much more serious tone.

“I mean it Jay, everything you just said. Prove it to me” you continue to trail light pecks along his skin and leading up the the corner of his mouth “Don’t start something you don’t want to finish” the way he grips at your hips makes you edge them towards him, earning a low moan to escape from his lips “Prove it to me Jay, prove why it should be you and no one else” you taunt as he locks his eyes with yours, he nudges at your legs which are positioned together so his knee slips between them “you have no idea what you’ve just let yourself in for”.

***

#jay halstead x reader #jay halstead drabble #jay halstead smut #jay halstead x y/n #jay halstead x you #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #one chicago x reader #one chicago #Chicago PD #chicago pd imagine

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bittermuire · 4 years ago

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A (long) analysis of Azriel,

+ a bit of discussion about Gwynriel vs. Elriel at the end.

Lately I’ve seen much discussion surrounding Azriel, and there seems to be a lot of hazy gray area. We know he has a terrible past, carries a lot of trauma, is both mentally and physically scarred, and has disturbingly possessive habits. But why? That’s the question.

I think most of Azriel’s character can be filtered into three sections: his anger, his possessiveness, and his self-loathing. Altogether I believe these form his crippling sense of emotional immaturity, which ultimately shines through most every action he makes in the books.

So yes, I firmly believe Az is a child in the body of a 500 year old Fae. But is he treated as such? No. No, he is not. In fact, he’s treated as the exact opposite, and that can’t be doing wonders for his mental health (which is already in shambles. Off to a cheery start.)

Let’s take a look at his past. He was both mentally and physically abused for the majority of his childhood. Then he was thrown into an unforgiving culture that both mentally and physically abused him as well. Then he was essentially bullied by Cassian and Rhysand for quite a while... until they randomly decided to like him, which is a choice he didn’t seem to play a hand in. And then he became a professional torturer. All the while falling madly in love and becoming obsessed with a female who can’t love him back. Not to mention he’s been ostracized his entire life.

(One big thing though, that I’m going to reference frequently, is Azriel’s constant chase of “happiness.” Kind of like my friends with ADHD. We squeeze all the serotonin we can get out of one thing and then fall into a listless, depressed haze until we find another. I honestly think Azriel does the same thing with people--he latches onto them and lets his mood swings rely on how much attention they do or do not pay him, and whether it is positive or negative.)

So I’m going to go through his relationships with pivotal characters and try to explain what I think is really going on with Azriel.

Regarding Mor:

He was obsessed with her for most of his life. He was incredibly possessive of her and fell instantly in love upon seeing her. Do I think it was love? No. But does Azriel think it was love? Yes, and that is so important. It shows how desperate he was for human connection.

This “love” spiraled into centuries-long obsession that we’ve all seen play out throughout the series. But why is it obsession, and not love? Well, I’m going to go ahead and say that Azriel doesn’t know how to love. He’s never been shown genuine love and so he doesn’t know how to show it to others in the way he intends. He’s basically a baby.

But right after he falls head over heels, Mor sleeps with Cassian, and then Cassian plays the role of the buffer between the two of them all the way up until the events of ACOSF. This is where I think Azriel’s anger comes into play. He can’t get to Mor. His best friend, his brother, is blocking him from her. He can’t touch her, love her, feel her, and he’s so desperate to. But he literally has no way to communicate it because he doesn’t know how, and so he responds in the one way he’s able: anger. And jealousy. And intense protectiveness that eventually begins to translate as possessiveness.

Again, he lets his happiness rely on Mor because he can’t make himself happy, and so his lack of emotional maturity ends up revealing him as desperate and unable to communicate his feelings of inadequacy and frustration. I’m not trying to justify his behavior, not at all. But I think this could be a decent explanation.

Regarding Cassian and Rhysand:

I mean... I kind of hate the way these two have treated Azriel. They all have their fair share of trauma, but Cassian and Rhys also bullied him and ostracized him, and then basically said, “Oh, we like you now.” Which completely leaves Azriel in the dark as to where he stands with them, and strips him of awareness regarding how his friendships with them will operate.

And then he becomes the head of espionage for the Night Court, which involves lots and lots of torture. What kind of message does that send? You’ve seen dirty things, Az, so you don’t mind doing the rest of the dirty things for us, right? That’s the only real message I can get from this. Which then plants the message in Azriel’s head of: Not only do I do dirty things, I myself am a dirty, disgusting thing. Thus, furthering his already deep-seated sense of self-loathing.

Plus, the IC generally operates with a pack-like mindset. One person’s method of healing is everyone’s method of healing. It worked for one person, so it worked for everyone. It’s a very naive mindset, and very toxic as well, so it’s not surprising that literally everyone in the IC is colossally messed up despite preaching themselves as having overcome their demons.

So Azriel never really gets to understand himself and mature as a person. He’s stuck pretending to be perfectly fine underneath Rhysand’s oh-so-benevolent and compassionate hand. Rhysand and Cassian recognize Az as being a little... odd, by seeming to think things like “he’s the quiet one” and “he’s the serious, scary one.” But do they attempt to understand him? No. They leave him to his own devices and let him figure it out himself.

That’s the issue. He’s not ever going to figure it out himself, so long as he’s surrounded by the people who’ve been unwittingly suffocating him for most of his life.

Regarding Elain:

Azriel’s infatuation with Elain, in my opinion, comes as a direct result of his detachment from Mor. Just like one hyperfixation fades quickly from an all-consuming thing to a passing thought, Azriel has shifted from one obsession to the next, in order to keep his spirits on a high.

But I think his feelings for Elain reveal a lot of what Mor did not. Why does he view Elain as so holy compared to him? Why is he so hesitant to touch her? Why does he put her on such a pedestal? That’s his self-loathing coming through again. He hates himself so much that he has to place her above him.

He wants to touch her and love her, just as he did with Mor, but again he is unable. It's a repeating pattern that he can’t get himself out of.

Let’s also look at the way Elain and Azriel’s friendship/relationship began. He had to take care of her, and treat her with utmost respect. She looked at his scars or his siphons, both monstrous looking things, and called them beautiful. Let’s remember that he’s basically a child who’s rarely known genuine love. The minute he gets a glimpse of it, he’s going to grab it by the neck and crush it to his chest. Plus, the fact that she’s the last sister left unattached and he’s the last brother left unattached is probably even more convincing for him that he and Elain are meant for each other. When he’s denied this love that’s come nearly close enough to grab, he responds in the only way he’s able: anger. And jealousy. Just like he did with Mor.

But moving on, that glimpse of potential love comes from Elain. That’s why he’s able to let go of Mor; a relationship with Elain suddenly becomes possible. He’s terrified of ruining this potential love and is incredibly drawn to her all the same. Best of all? She wants him too.

BUT. Azriel knows how fragile Elain is, so he walks on glass around her, coddling her, putting her first like he’s put everyone else first since being a part of the IC. I think he wants to save her from becoming like him. He essentially plays the role of her white knight, entirely losing his sense of self-preservation (not that he ever had one), and thus loses any chance of letting Elain help him mature in return.

Regarding Gwyn:

Now, Gwyn is a different story.

We know Azriel likes her. Maybe not in a consciously romantic way, but he likes her. She makes him smile and laugh, and he finds her amusing. He doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around her.

The big thing, I think, is that he doesn’t have to take care of her. At least, I think that’s what makes him so comfortable around her. With Gwyn, he can relax, and he doesn’t have to watch every move he makes. She treats him like a regular person and he treats her similarly.

Now, is it a bad thing that he doesn’t put her on a saint-like pedestal like he does Elain? No. Definitely not. I think this ordinary friendship signals a much healthier relationship than his festering obsession with Elain. Gwyn simply being his friend and not someone that he feels he has to be perfect for is a good foundation for Azriel growing as a person.

Gwynriel vs. Elriel (the necklace):

Honestly, I’m scared for whatever SJM decides to do, because Azriel has a shitload of trauma to move past and years worth of emotional growth needed before he can be a steady partner in a relationship. Both Gwyn and Elain’s character arcs are definitely not finished and so I think that no matter which way his narrative goes, it’s going to be disappointing in some aspect or another, unfortunately. I don’t think that either one of the females’ arcs really fit well with Azriel’s.

But I’m going to take a closer look at the necklace, because I think it’s a telling narrative point.

For Azriel, the necklace for Elain and Gwyn herself, are both “thing[s] of secret, lovely beauty” to him.

By describing the necklace for Elain as such (instead of Elain herself), Azriel unconsciously reveals his more idealistic view of Elain rather than his love for Elain herself. I kind of get the sense of Azriel giving offerings to a goddess, or something like that. He seems to be more preoccupied with appeasing Elain than actually loving her.

Now, this probably comes from, again, his self-loathing and his emotional immaturity. I’m just repeating myself at this point. He doesn’t know how to love himself and he doesn’t know how to love anyone else.

But then he describes Gwyn as such. Gwyn, the person. In my opinion, this demonstrates a potentially much healthier relationship than what he has with Elain. Azriel, instead of wanting to be perfect for Gwyn and wanting to appease her, is simply made happy by the thought of her. It is Gwyn whom he is taken with, not the idea of Gwyn loving him. And so that takes off so much pressure for him, and introduces the hope that he might be able to mature as a person in a friendship or romantic relationship with Gwyn.

Closing thoughts:

Azriel is a blundering, hormonal child desperate for love with no idea of how to get it, in a 500 year old Fae’s body. He’s also surrounded by people who refuse to address his clear issues... his future’s pretty dim, and I think he realizes it. Which is why whoever SJM chooses to be his romantic interest is going to be very important.

In short, I’m scared for what’s to come. But fingers crossed that his incredibly complex character is done justice.

#azriel #acotar #character analysis #gwynriel #kind of anti elriel #but open to interpretation

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scripttorture · 4 years ago

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One of the central characters in a fantasy story I'm writing has torture as part of her backstory. She was captured by an evil race, and one individual in particular put her through a "training" regime designed to turn her into a useful/trustworthy slave. Specifically the goals of the training were:

- destroy her sense of self / agency

- overwrite her ingrained response of healing herself when injured (she has magical healing powers)

- an affectionate or worshipful disposition towards her captors

- immediate obedience to any command

I feel like both physical and psychological torture / mental conditioning are probably appropriate, though I'm leaning away from including sexual abuse. I honestly don't know much about torture at all and the only things that come to mind as producing a result similar to what I'm looking for are the Game of Thrones torture sequence and the use of obdience collars in the Codex Alera book series. The latter is very interesting to me because it is a magical device that inflicts pain in reaction to disobedience but also inflicts pleasure to reward obedience.

I guess I'm just wondering if you have any advice for what kinds of methods would be good to include in a process designed to produce obedience, rather than torture for its own sake or to extract information, as well as if there are any common pitfalls I should try to avoid in writing about such a thing.

The training itself won't be in the book, but I need to be familiar with it for backstory purposes because later in the story this character encounters her torturer again, and is subjected to some further abuse before she finally overcomes her fear and kills him.

Alright well I’m going to be straight up with you: the scenario you’ve presented is a very common torture apologist trope. It’s incredibly unrealistic. And it’s unrealistic in ways that support torture by claiming it can be ‘useful’.

Which probably means that you’re new to the blog and haven’t heard me give this talk before. That’s OK, we all learn sometime and it’s not my intention to shame you for the fact you’re not as obsessed with this stuff as I am or couldn’t afford to shell out for the books.

Torture does not produce obedience. The best evidence we have right now suggests it encourages active resistance.

If you got a lot of your inspiration from Game of Thrones then frankly I’m not surprised you came up with apologia. The torture in that series is incredibly badly handled. And a big part of the point of running this blog is that most people are getting their information on torture from shows like that. Which happens because the research is inaccessible and hasn’t been popularised the way fictional tropes (sometimes fictional tropes literally started by torturers) have been popularised.

The important thing is what you choose to do now.

I’m going to break down the problems here and make some suggestions for what you could do instead.

Firstly: there is no torture or abuse that will guarantee obedience. Pain does not make people meek or compliant or willing to follow commands.

Torture survivors are not broken.

They are not ‘controlled’ by their torturers and the suggestion that they are is used in the real world to bar real survivors from treatment. It is also used to bar them from entering safe countries and to argue that they shouldn’t be allowed visas or passports.

The best statistics we have for any sort of compliance under torture come from analysis of historical French data where torture was used to try and force confessions (something we know torture can sometimes do).

The ‘success’ rate averaged at 10%. Under torture 90% of people will not comply long enough to sign their name.

Secondly: torture does not and can not ‘make’ a victim feel ‘worshipful’ towards their torturer. The suggestion is kind of like asking if someone can tap dance immediately after removing the bones from their legs.

Torturers have no control over a victim’s emotions. They have no control over their symptoms. They have no control over their beliefs.

And there is no such thing as a torture that can change someone’s mind in a way torturers can control.

Once again, this fictional trope is used by politicians and the media to justify marginalising real torture survivors.

I have read hundreds, possibly thousands, of accounts from torture survivors. I’ve read historic and modern accounts. I’ve read accounts from all sort of people from all over the globe. I have never seen a survivor say anything positive about their torturers. I have never seen anything close to toleration.

A lot of survivors are blisteringly angry at their torturers. A lot of them feel overwhelming levels of spite and some report literally putting themselves at risk of death in order to spite their torturers. And yes, a lot of them are afraid too. None of these emotions are mutually exclusive.

Affection is impossible. We are not wired that way.

Thirdly: I understand that ‘evil races’ are a long standing fantasy trope but it would be remiss of me if I didn’t mention the racism inherent in that idea. That some people are ‘born bad’.

I’d strongly suggest you look up the Black, Indian and First Nations people that I know are on this site critiquing these kinds of fantasy tropes. Because they will be able to explain it better then I can.

Fourthly: the term ‘psychological torture’ is a pretty common dog whistle for torture apologia.

Most of the time tortures that people dub ‘psychological’ are things with real, physical effects that lead to lasting injury and death. They just don’t tend to leave obvious external scars. I use Rejali’s term ‘clean torture’ for these techniques. Researchers distinguish them from scarring tortures because they are harder to detect and prove in court.

The majority of survivors today will have experienced clean torture. They will have no obvious physical scars. But they will still be disabled. They’re ‘just’ less likely to see any form of justice for it.

Fifthly: torture is a terrible training method because it decreases a person’s ability to learn.

Torture causes memory problems. It also often causes lasting physical injuries that make performing basic tasks more difficult. And it causes a lot of serious psychological problems which make performing basic tasks more difficult.

A trained person who was never tortured will always out perform someone whose training involved torture.

I probably sound quite angry here.

I write fantasy and I also write about torture a lot. But I can’t imagine that it’s just flavour for a fantasy world or some artefact of the past. Torture is a real, present threat in the country that I grew up in. If I was to return now I could, literally, be tortured and executed.

If you want to include torture in your world, in your story then you are committing to telling someone else’s story. You are representing an incredibly marginalised group of people and you are presenting that representation to a third group, one that has never had contact with real torture survivors.

Are you comfortable with the idea of telling your peers that survivors are still controlled by ‘the enemy’? That they’re passive? That they don’t have the capacity to make their own decisions?

Are you comfortable knowing that the popularity of this message keeps millions of genocide survivors in refugee camps, blocked from citizenship, aid and safety?

I understand feeling attached to a story and a character. And I understand that this information is hard to find. Hell I’m probably going to end up with the only English copy of one of the pivotal textbooks because I’m shelling out to get it translated.

You say you want to write a torture survivor. With respect I don’t think you know what a torture survivor looks like.

I think the most helpful, and kindest, thing I can do here is describe what torture does to people. Because I can’t tell you whether that’s something you want to write. I could try and rebuild this scenario for you (and if you decide you’re interested in that after reading all of this and all the links then I suggest looking through the blog tags for ICURE, torture as training, Black Widow and Overwatch.) But I think you need to decide whether you actually want to write a torture survivor first.

Here’s a post on the most common torture apologia tropes.

Here’s the post on the types of memory problems torture commonly causes. I strongly recommend picking at least one.

Remember that this would never go away. Improvement and recovery in torture survivors means learning to live with symptoms. The symptoms themselves are permanent.

It’s a hundred different alarms set up on their phone to try and make up for the forgetfulness that makes them miss appointments. It’s the little bottle of perfume in their pocket to bring themselves back to reality when they get intrusive memories at work.

Here’s a post on the other common symptoms.

You want something in the range of 3-5 of those, though more are likely if your character is held for years. Each of them should be severe. Every single symptom should have a large, negative, impact on the character’s daily life.

Do you know anyone with chronic pain? It warps their world. Work can become impossible. Basic household tasks like getting dressed, cooking, cleaning the dishes are done through gritted teeth or not at all. Hobbies and ‘fun’ activities dwindle as they struggle to find a way to do them that doesn’t hurt. Interaction with other people, even loved ones, can easily become barbed.

Because the pain makes everything more difficult. It means everything takes more energy, more effort. Which means that things fall by the wayside, whether that’s by a pile of mouldering dishes in the sink or snapping at a child. It means tears and the social judgement that follows them. It means the world narrowing as it gets harder to go out.

Do you see what I mean? Every part of life.

That’s an example for one symptom. You need to work out at least four. Then figure out how they interact. Then figure out what the character can do to make her life better.

With chronic pain that can mean painkillers but it’s always more then that. It’s re-learning how to do things; how to put on trousers without aggravating the bad knee, how to sew with one hand. It means learning to cut down on what they do and it means learning a new sort of flexibility; accepting that there are days when the pain is too much.

It can mean having the same conversation about disability over and over again. With family, with friends, with colleagues. ‘I can’t do that.’ ‘I can do that sometimes but not always.’ ‘That will hurt me.’ ‘I can’t use that chair.’ ‘I can’t get my arms that high above my shoulders.’ ‘I need help with this.’

And that sometimes means learning a kind of patience that is really barely held back rage. Or perhaps I’m projecting a little with this last one.

If you’ve never met a torture survivor, if you’ve never looked at a survivor’s work, then all this is difficult. You’re trying to imagine something from first principals with nothing to fall back on.

So let’s bring some survivors into the discussion here. Some reality.

Who’s listened to Fela? How about Bobi Wine?

Fela Kuti was the father of modern Afro beats music. He was tortured multiple times and during one attack, which destroyed his home, his mother was murdered by the military. When he got out of jail Fela marched her funeral procession past the biggest barracks in Nigeria’s biggest city. He wrote two songs about this attack and he doubled down on his opposition to the military government.

Fela’s music started causing riots.

You can read what I have to say about him here. You can listen to his music on youtube.

Here’s an interview with Bobi Wine, which was conducted shortly after he was tortured in Uganda. He talked about how he was determined to go back and continue fighting. Which he did. He even ran against the president.

I’ve also got a short piece on Searle who was a cartoonist captured by the Japanese during World War 2. His drawings of what happened in To the Kwai and Back are worth seeing. Especially if you want to write atrocities on this scale. They will show you the scale and how to focus on the small, human elements despite that overwhelming scale.

Alleg’s The Question is pretty much a must, it’s one of the most thorough accounts from the Franco-Algerian war.

Monroe’s A Darkling Plain is also a must, it’s a series of interviews with survivors of various different conflicts and atrocities. Some are torture survivors. Some are not. It is essential reading because it shows the variety in survivors as well as giving a sense of their lives beyond the symptoms.

Finally Amnesty International has literally hundreds of interviews and studies available for free online.

The most important decision for any story with regards to torture is whether it should be there at all.

So much of this topic is intimidating and so much of it is difficult to write. Not just in the ‘oh this is horribly effecting’ sense but in the ‘I have twelve things to juggle in this simple scene’ sense.

Ask yourself what torture adds to this character and this story. What does this backstory actually give this character?

Because if the point is to have her vulnerable and then ultimately triumphing violently over her attackers I don’t think you want a torture scenario. You could get the same thing from a bad guy trying to drug her and having the kidnapping fail when she fights him off, clumsy but effective nonetheless.

And she could still come out of something like that traumatised.

Right now I really don’t see this adding anything but torture apologia to your story.

Handling torture well in a story means accepting that it can’t be the same story without it. It means watching the characters and narrative warp under the weight of it. It means lasting effects, for all the characters and for the world itself.

I believe you are capable of writing that if you want to, pet. But this ain’t it.

Edit: I’m having trouble seeing the beginning of the answer here. Can anyone let me know if there are formatting issues again please? The first word in the htmal is ‘Alright’ but what I’m seeing on tumblr starts 8 paragraphs in.

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

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nadohunter · 4 years ago

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kind of disappointing to see you supporting something like H*talia, I liked your art a lot but you support one of the most racist anime out there....

Okay. Lets talk about this. I’m actually going to copy and paste something I already wrote on my main blog about Hetalia then I’ll add a few notes... Yes. Hetalia the show is problematic. I garentee most sane Hetalia fans will agree, the fandom is probably going to go down in fandom culture history as one of the first disaster fandoms way before the fandoms that surrounded voltron or Steven Universe. Again, most Hetalia fans will also probably agree with that. There’s certain bits from the comic and show that are absolutely not okay- however for those of you making a ton of assumptions about ppl who were in that fandom or are excited about the possibility of it coming back-> let me just explain a few things.

1. Hetalia made massive history nerds out of a lot us, it’s not that didn’t have some problematic results and of course it’s very euro-centric. But I’d argue because of this show It made a lot of people interested in the world and history way more than they ever would have and educated themselves further as a result

ADDED NOTE: The fandom, while small, I’d say has grown up a LOT. The people in it are a lot more informed and aware - The abbreviation was changed pretty damn quick as people started coming back with the new season announced from “APH” (Axis Powers Hetalia - We can all know what’s wrong with that) to “HWS” (Hetalia World Stars).

2. If you were a fan of Hetalia…. that honestly actually meant you were more a fan of the fandom than the actual show. Hetalia has more AUs than probably any fandom I’ve EVER seen: these people made a ton of content Off of characters that appeared in episodes less than 5 minutes long. It got to the point where a lot of people’s interpretations of the characters were SO far removed from the original show they may as well just be entirely new characters. I’m not going to sit here and argue like the fandom couldn’t get toxic, I was there, I remember. This is absolutely a piece of media you SHOULD ABSOLUTELY still be critical of and many many many many many people since the day Hetalia showed it’s face and the ended up getting a creepy pasta story made out of it already have. We’ve been here. Fans have used these characters as an easy way to inform and educate, even more so now than there used to be. So any new fans coming in as well may actually learn a lot about history and other cultures. Which can be really important when done right. It CAN aND HAS been done responsibly. So at the very least if you see a few current or ex Hetalians on your radar just don’t automatically assume shit. It’s way more complicated, we’ve all been through this shit before. Us oldies have seen and understood many a fandom through aaaaaallll the highs and lows. We were there. We know both the bad and the good that can come from this, as is the case with literally any fandom ever. All of them can be great, creative, and create friendships and community (I have my long term best friend in large part due to Hetalia) … and they can also be latched on to by people who aren’t gonna have others best interests at heart, and are gonna try and use something for bigotry or being just gross. That’s why you stay I n f o r m e d above all else. If you weren’t there for this whole rodeo before, just… at least get the idea that this ain’t a cut and dry situation FURTHER ADDITION: “One of The most racist anime” is a pretty bold claim. Shows like Attack on Titan I would argue have way more damaging mixed messaging around the holocast and nazism. However I wouldn’t go so far to call fans of it racist. Because either A. People aren’t focusing on that aspect of the anime and just like the cool action or B. They know but they’re consuming and reacting to it critically and making informed choices about where they put their money and time. Naruto and Once Peice - two of THE MOST POPULAR ANIME for a LONG time out there, have characters that are EXTREMELY racist charactures of black people but no one talked about that for a long time. I would also argue that yes, the Hetalia dub has some very racist and problematic things with it, we should all get on funimation’s ASS about that, however, the original sub is mostly harmless outside of just plain not acknowledging the horrors of the holocost - which I think since the show is supposed to stay a comedy is why the author steered away from having things set in the 1940s because at a certain point and most modern Hetalia strips don’t touch it - you either make a mockery of a serious topic (cough cough the musical in a lot of ways) , OR you don’t touch WWII and just keep the setting modern and you can continue making fun of Europeans especially all you want.

Point being, If I draw Hetalia fanart... that is not me putting a stamp of approval on everything in the show. If you see a Hetalia fan drawing a character in a Nazi uniform, or putting the pasty-ass character for America in a Native American headdress of course! Call them the fuck out! We are too! Report and block them! So... yeah. And look, I get it, from an outside perspective where the only thing you’ve heard about Hetalia is the absolutely WORST of it, of course you would feel that way, that’s how most Fandoms get a bad reputation. It IS good to talk about this. And if you or anyone still wants to disagree with me, look I’ll still hear you out... but I think we have to get out of this headspace in any fandom of EITHER YOU STAN EVERYTHING ABOUT SOMETHING AND SUPPORT EVERYTHING ABOUT IT OR YOU MUST HATE AND DESPISE IT. Life... human thoughts... just don’t work like that.

#long post #hws #hetalia #tw #tw discussions of racism and anti semitism #thoughts #response

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years ago

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Colour Prompt :)

#22 - purple: bruise, pain, mystery

For Scott & John (& Gordon?)

A Little Ruthlessness

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Gordon, John, Scott

First thing I've written in a good week and a half, and the longest thing I've written in... a while (thank you, rl, for hitting me hard enough to wreck my muses when I was planning on celebrating finishing my dissertation by writing lots). Also highly self-indulgent because why not.

So we have some Scott&Gordon&John, which is a highly entertaining combination and I loved writing this. I think I actually hit all three of those prompts with this...

Colour Symbol Prompts

“He’s late,” Gordon huffed, fog erupting from his mouth as he rubbed his arms to stave off the winter chill. “What’s taking him so long?”

Leaning against a nearby wall nonchalantly, bundled up in so many layers Gordon had laughed when he’d first seen him and poking at his tablet, John shrugged. If Gordon didn’t know his brother as well as he did, he’d think the ginger wasn’t worried at all.

There was an urgency to the way he was poking at the screen, though. John didn’t do big, flashy, displays of emotion, but when you knew what to look for, the deliberate placement of each digit as he manipulated whatever was on the screen screamed unease, and even a little bit of frustration.

Their brother was supposed to have met up with them an hour ago, as soon as he escaped the social gathering he’d been coerced into by what Gordon could only assume was an old flame from high school. For all that Scott was naturally charismatic and popular, it was an open secret in their family that he hadn’t managed to keep any of his old high school friendships. Teenagers were fickle things, and he��d been too busy raising four younger brothers to fill the social quota they’d expected of him at the time, let alone after they lost Dad as well.

Still, the high school reunion had called, and for some reason, Scott had answered.

He wasn’t supposed to stay there so long, though. Gordon and John had both determined that there was a high chance Scott would be leaving the reunion reminded of all the reasons why he hadn’t been able to keep those friendships and decided to make their own arrangements for the evening. Nothing outlandish – not when John was involved – but a trio of brothers hanging out without the stress of their otherwise busy lives hanging over them.

Not the usual trio of brothers that might be expected to hang out, but as much as Virgil would always jump to help Scott, where they had planned really wasn’t for their softer brother – and Alan was underage anyway.

Beating casinos at their own money-laundering game required just a touch of ruthlessness, and that was very much John’s area of expertise. Gordon found it fun, and Scott always enjoyed taking selfish rich snobs a peg or several. It also required enough strategic thinking and brainpower to cut off any unwelcome dwelling their big brother might otherwise land himself in.

That meant nothing if Scott wasn’t even showing up in the first place.

“Have you called him?” Gordon shot over at John, who was still poking away deliberately at his tablet.

“No answer,” the ginger replied, breath fogging in front of his own face. He didn’t even seem to notice – then again, all those ridiculous layers were probably doing their job to keep him warm. Gordon’s had failed him about half an hour ago. In his defence, he hadn’t exactly planned to be hanging around in the cold this long. “He’s not read any messages, either.”

If they’d gone to all this trouble to plan a pick-me-up for Scott after an expected downer of an evening, their big brother had better not have managed to find some entertainment and forgotten to let them know.

But that wasn’t like Scott at all – even if he had initially forgotten, a call or message from John would have reminded him instantly.

Gordon shivered again. Something didn’t seem right.

“So now what?” he asked instead, not because he didn’t have any ideas – crashing the reunion was an obvious one that sprung to mind – but because John was probably already enacting a plan or several of his own already.

“His phone’s location transmitter’s off,” John said by way of answer. “Actually, his phone seems to be dead in general.” The same phone John and Scott had both checked was fully charged on the way here so he didn’t lose contact with them?

Gordon’s eyes narrowed.

“So what have you got?” There was no way John hadn’t got something by now.

“His watch isn’t transmitting, either,” his brother reported. “But…” He trailed off, staring intently at something Gordon couldn’t see on the screen.

The temptation was there to prod him – verbally or literally – but unlike when John was a mere hologram that may or may not be transmitting, this time Gordon could see that he was mid-thought, still working, still doing something to figure out why their big brother had gone dark, and held back.

It didn’t take John long to finish whatever he was doing.

“I’ve got a location.” The astronaut kicked off from the wall he was leaning against and started striding forwards, long legs uncaring that Gordon’s were much shorter. It took a second or two to jog to catch up.

“What have you got?” he repeated.

A map of the area flashed up above the tablet; orange and yellow highlighted their own position, moving quickly down the street, while a flickering blue icon blinked in and out of existence unsteadily down a side alley four blocks away.

“You said it wasn’t transmitting?”

“It’s not,” John said shortly. “I triangulated all the signals within the appropriate parameters until I picked up traces of its electronic residue.”

Residue didn’t sound promising. Gordon resumed his jog, knowing that John was fully capable of keeping up with him, and mentally mapped out the shortest route to the weakly flickering blue dot. It was staying in the exact same location, not even a slight waver in position, and that, Gordon really didn’t like.

Scott wasn’t one for staying still.

Unconsciously, his pace hastened further. By the time the alley loomed ahead, visible in person and not just lines on a hologram, he was all but sprinting. John was a little way behind him, but that was fine.

Gordon’s instincts screamed for him to keep going, to charge straight into the alley and find out what was going on, but he reined them in, forcing his legs to slow to a walk, and then a stop at the entrance to the alley.

They had no idea what they were walking into, and despite all the signs pointing to not, Gordon really didn’t want to interrupt if Scott had simply found entertainment and forgotten about them. More realistically, he also didn’t want to charge into a hostile situation unaware.

There were no sounds coming from the alley. Nothing to tell him what was going on, but also enough to tell him what wasn’t. With one glance back to see how far behind John was – not far, only seconds out – Gordon slipped around the corner.

Alleys were always somehow gloomier than the surrounding streets. Lighting never seemed to work quite so well; John could no doubt explain it, but an explanation wasn’t important right then.

What was important was that, in the resultant gloom, something was slumped over on the ground. Something that Gordon approached carefully, glancing around to make sure nothing else was laying in wait with a nasty surprise.

Nothing appeared, even as he took the last few steps, and his rigid restraint snapped.

“Scott!” His knee protested as it hit the street sharply but that was insignificant in the face of the ragdoll impersonation his eldest brother was doing spectacularly well. “Hey, Scott?”

His cold fingers found his brother’s throat, pressing up against the pulse point. Scott’s skin was almost as cold as his own, but the steady thrum of his heartbeat beat reassuringly against his fingertips.

Hurried footsteps behind him announced John’s arrival.

“Give me some light,” Gordon ordered, not looking up at him. A blink later and a pale, holographic blue washed over the pair of them. Tablets didn’t have the best torches in the world, but it did the job.

Scott’s eyes were closed, although the lack of response had already implied their brother was out cold. One had a spectacular ring of colour around it, matching the blotches that covered every visible section of skin. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth in a way that had Gordon fearfully inspecting his lip in the hopes that it was just a cut.

The light quivered a little as John knelt down on Scott’s other side.

“His watch is smashed,” the ginger reported. It made sense, considering how difficult it had been to track, but their watches were IR standard. They didn’t smash easily. “Broken wrist, too. How’s his head?”

“Bruised, like the rest of him,” Gordon replied. “Looks like he cut his lip on his tooth, and he’s going to have a fantastic shiner.” He gingerly felt around. “Splitting headache, too. His head’s not bleeding but it’s taken a hard knock.”

“Try and get a response while I deal with his wrist,” John ordered. The tablet light moved away from Scott’s face, leaving it shadowed by alley-gloom, but Gordon could still see well enough to lightly tap a less-colourful portion of his cheek.

“Hey, Scott,” he coaxed. “This isn’t a great place for a nap, you know, bro.” Rustling indicated that John was deploying something medical. Gordon wasn’t even surprised he had something on him, although it was probably brought along just in case gravity got the better of him, and not because he was expecting to patch up their brother when they’d left home earlier. “C’mon, Scotty.”

The faint groan he got was music to his ears.

“That’s right,” he encouraged. “Really not a good place to nap.”

In the gloom, he couldn’t make out the exact moment familiar blue eyes edged open, but he heard the second, louder, groan, followed almost immediately by a sharp inhale that could only be pain.

“G’don?”

“Right here,” he confirmed, resting his hands lightly on Scott’s shoulders in case his idiot of a brother thought attempting to sit up was a good idea. “John’s here, too.”

He got a pain-smothered grunt in response. Muscles twitched under his palms, and then he was predictably forced to keep Scott still.

“Nope,” he chirped. “No moving for you just yet. How’s his wrist, John?”

“Strapped up,” the ginger answered. “How aware is he?”

“’nuff,” Scott rasped weakly before Gordon could reply. “W’ah-ow.”

“Hospital or home?” Gordon looked away from Scott to glance at where John was once again poking at his tablet, somewhat awkwardly as he was also holding Scott’s arm still with one hand.

“’ome,” Scott interjected.

“We’re closer to Thunderbird One than the hospital,” John agreed. “Once we reach her we can run a scan.”

And if the scan showed up something they couldn’t handle at home, Thunderbird One could get Scott to a hospital faster than an ambulance. Gordon nodded.

“Sounds like a plan,” he agreed, looking back down at Scott. “I’ll need a hand picking him up.”

“Ic’n-”

“Nope.” He overrode Scott’s protest. “I doubt you can even see straight right now. You’re not walking.”

The wordless noise he got in response told him he was right, and that Scott didn’t want to admit it.

John’s tablet vanished somewhere in amongst the multitude of layers he was wearing as the ginger left Scott’s wrist to kneel opposite Gordon instead. “How do you want to do this?”

Gordon considered his options, quickly realising that the one that would hurt Scott the least was also the one his brother would hate the most. With no idea what damage he’d taken to the ribs, putting any substantial pressure on his abdomen could spell disaster.

He drew Scott’s unbroken wrist up, to renewed protest, and looped it around the back of his own neck. “It’s not far,” he said. “Bridal’s safest.” Not the easiest, but Gordon was always up for a challenge.

“No,” Scott huffed, but John nodded, like he’d come to the same conclusion. He probably had.

Between them it took no time at all to get Scott loosely in position, broken wrist cradled limply on his stomach as Gordon and John slipped their arms beneath him and prepared to shift.

“Whenever you’re ready,” John said, and Gordon’s mouth twisted into a wry grin.

“On three. One, two, three.”

Scott wasn’t light by any means, but despite his protests he didn’t resist as between the two of them they got him into the air, suspended between them for a moment before John carefully shifted his grip until the battered body of their big brother slipped neatly into Gordon’s arms.

His shoulders protested at the weight, but Gordon ignored them in favour of immediately starting to move. He wasn’t Virgil; he couldn’t carry Scott around as though he weighed nothing, and there was a definite, short, time limit before his muscles gave out.

Scott gave a pained huff, the air brushing past Gordon’s jaw. “Ic’n walk,” he muttered again. Gordon appreciated that he wasn’t trying to prove it, because if Scott actually tried, he’d almost certainly end up dropping him and probably injure them both in the process. At least Scott was mentally aware enough to recognise that.

“Not until we know how badly injured you are,” John told him firmly. “One’s not far from here.” Gordon let him lead the way, trusting him to pick out the shortest route to where the Thunderbird was secured. They left the gloom of the alley for the better-lit streets, and Gordon almost wished they hadn’t. The bruising had been bad enough in the half-light conjured by the tablet; under the powerful street lighting, Scott looked even worse.

When Gordon found out who did this to his brother, they were going to regret it.

Blue eyes, one barely able to open, were regarding him worriedly, as though Gordon was the one that needed fretting over. The hand slung over his shoulder squeezed shakily when something made him stumble, and Gordon grinned down at him thinly once he regained his footing.

“Nearly there,” he promised, both his brother and his protesting muscles. In front of him, John had reproduced his tablet from the volume of clothing he was wearing and was tapping away even as he led Gordon around another corner.

Thunderbird One glittered in the darkness of the park, tucked away mostly out of sight. The stealth coating Scott rarely bothered to use since the Zero-X had done its job at preventing gawkers gathering around, although now John had turned it off it was only a matter of time before late night crowds gathered.

Gordon stumbled again as he approached, muscles burning, and Scott let out an almost silent hiss. A hum of a hover stretcher murmured its way into earshot, guided by John, and Gordon gratefully let it take Scott’s weight, slipping his screaming arms out from underneath him and ducking away from the arm slung around his shoulder.

True to form, Scott immediately started to sit up, but John was there with a gentle but firm touch. In his other hand, the medscanner flickered yellow.

Rubbing at his protesting shoulders, Gordon was reluctantly relieved to hand over responsibility to his older brother as John somehow managed to keep Scott laying down long enough to get the stretcher inside Thunderbird One. Gordon followed, just in time to hear John sigh.

“-broken foot, so no, you couldn’t walk, Scott.”

“So,” he interrupted before Scott found a reason why that wouldn’t stop him. “What’s the verdict, Johnny?”

“Don’t call me that,” John snapped back automatically. “Nothing’s flagging up as beyond our facilities, but I’ve sent the results to Grandma for final verdict.”

Grandma, Virgil, and their arsenal of medical equipment could handle a lot, so that by itself wasn’t completely reassuring, but it went a little way towards it.

“Do we know what happened?” he asked, rather than dwell on that for long. “Scott?”

“N’dea,” his brother mumbled. “D’n r’mber ‘thing ‘fter th’arty.” He sounded put-out enough for it to be the truth.

Gordon caught John’s eye and the ginger’s lips thinned. They’d find out who did it, one way or another. No-one messed with their family and got away with it, no matter how much that contradicted with International Rescue’s philosophies.

Sometimes, a little ruthlessness was necessary.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #john tracy #thunderwhump #drabbles #purfectpurple #a little ruthlessness

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juminly · 4 years ago

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Moonlight (Arthur Conan Doyle x Reader)

Summary: On a night where you thought Arthur was simply sweeping you off your feet as he always did, he wanted to do much more than that. He had so much to be thankful for. All of those reasons were... you. Word Count: 2.1 K. (This was supposed to be a drabble...) Tags: Pre-relationship fluff, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergent (in a way?), Not Beta Read. –♥– You thought it was just one of those times when one of the residents, one of which was Arthur, would try to occupy your time somehow, distracting you from the fact that you were away from home, far from the reality that you knew, grew up in and loved. It didn’t bother you that much, especially since you were in good company yet getting used to different customs, being surrounded by people who didn’t even speak a language you understood wasn’t really the easiest. After breakfast was over, Arthur was one of the first to leave, creeping up slowly to stand behind your chair at the dining table and slipping a small note in your hand as he leaned down to whisper something in your ear, low and sweet: “Don’t be late, pretty dove. I’ll be waiting for you.” You were not one to be easily swayed with sweet words and flirtations, very much able to throw some back and exude the same playfulness back at whoever it is that was trying to woo you yet when it came to the mystery writer, the heat that crept up your cheek was involuntary, accompanied by the smile that he always managed to draw on those lips of yours. Hearing his voice and the smile in it was plenty to have you filled with happiness and the prospect of spending more time with him, alone, was so much better. Reading the note while you were on the way to your room, you grinned at his cheeky message, inviting you to a day out with him where he can flaunt you before all of the skirts in Paris and show them how beautiful your wings were, the prettiest dove he has ever laid eyes upon. Shaking your head at this, knowing that it was just some prelude to what he really wanted to say. Reaching a small note at the end, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you gazed at the intricately written words on the piece of paper, a dreamy sigh escaping you as you wondered how such a wonderful man is often disregarded and even scorned by those who surround him. You had absolutely no idea what he was up to and you didn’t even care. “I would love for you to accompany me to an occasion that I cannot bring myself to attend on my own. Lend me your hand for the evening, love and I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Also, tonight will be quite chilly so do make sure to bring a shawl with you, unless you would rather be warmed in my arms. A much more agreeable option, if I may say so.”

As he had instructed, you were a pretty dress that Sebastian had gotten you, one of many that he populated your wardrobe with, to make sure that you didn't feel completely out of place, having to always wear the same clothes or go to town, every single damn time you felt like you wanted to wear something different. You absolutely added your own touches to it, making it a bit more modern, a little more you which always earned you a wide knowing smile from Arthur, especially now that you were all dressed up to go out with him... Wishful thinking as it was, he told himself that you were all dolled up for him, your lips painted in a bloody shade of crimson that made him wish that he could sink his fangs in your neck and kiss you, so he could share the sweet taste of you, a wonder that you could both enjoy together. Before his daydreams could fly even further away from any sort of reality that could never happen, he took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, leading you out of the grand door of the mansion and into the cities of Paris, just a little before sunset. The skies were a beautiful shade of pink, a colour that tinted both of your faces while you both laughed together at whatever ridiculous story Arthur had recounted to you, the man never failing to find any sort of avenue to entertain you. Just hearing that boyishness resonate from him, the way his eyes crinkled and his lips spread widely and freely across his handsome face, letting go of any sort of restraint that he might have to uphold some sort of image or composure before you. This was just him. The Arthur that you got was the real Arthur and it was the little things that you noticed, the things that were just slightly different when he was with you that made you want to be even closer to him. Literally speaking, Arthur had wound his arm around you, keeping your side flush against his while you walked to wherever your destination was, the simple gesture was left unquestioned since you had caught the reason why he did so. Man thought he was so smooth but you did see how many of the men passing by were looking at you, especially that it was getting darker, the crowd that you would find lurking around were much different and you would know, especially after your many trips to the bar with Arthur and Theo. But now that you were much closer, the rich smell that wafted from Arthur was even stronger, intoxicating as you always found it, making your mind swirl as you inhaled it and sighed happily as discretely as you could. On another end, the mystery writer was doing the same, a satisfied smile playing on the corner of his pink lips, the small beauty mark by his lips appeared to be a bit higher, lifting even more as you both turned to look into each other's eyes at the same moment, a round of shy chuckles ensuing as your story-filled stroll had finally come to an end. Entering through a door to some establishment that you've never been to before, slowly the sound of a crowd filled your ears as you found yourself in a room filled with people. Groups talking animatedly and excitedly in French, you obviously having absolutely no idea what they were talking about but one thing you couldn't miss, they were all holding a book in their hands. Throwing a curious glance in Arthur's direction, his leathered fingers gave yours a tight squeeze. Whether it was a conscious or unconscious gesture, the man had no clue as he gave you a wistful smile, a heavy sigh escaping his lips when he finally leaned down, inching closer to you so you could hear him better. Sweet man, he thought he needed to do that when the moment he parted his lips and his sweet voice came from them, every other sound in the damn world was blocked and he was the only thing you could hear. "Remember when you had to tear me away from writing a few days ago, forcing me to rest as I couldn't bring myself to do so. Well, love, this is the result of your kindness to me. It was exactly what I needed yet, something I never bring myself to ask for." He lifted a leathered index, circling it around, a gesture ushering you to gaze around you, take in your surroundings before you brought your eyes back to him, his tone oozing with gratitude and an atypical solemness that he only exuded when he was serious and speaking from the heart. "I've known about these gatherings even since I began writing again. The moment one of my writings is published, these people flock together to celebrate it, for a reason that I could never comprehend." With a sheepish yet derisive chuckle, Arthur turned his eyes down and at your linked hands, squeezing them tighter, expecting an onslaught that he had become accustomed to, when you began reprimanding him for not valuing or showing any love to his work. The warmth that painted his cheeks and filled his chest was not what he was expecting as you pulled on his hand so your lips could press gently over that mark of his that you really loved, while you went on the tip of your toes to grace him with the soft touch of your crimson lips. "Thank you for choosing me to be with you today." You murmured softly before resting back down on your heels, basking in his soft gaze, his expression tender and heartfelt. He was one step closer to his journey of self-acceptance and you were happy that he even considered keeping you close, not even knowing that he borrowed strength from you. Strength that he needed to turn his back on his past and look forward. Even if it was just a baby step, you were going to cut him some slack and refrain from giving him a piece of your mind. Just seeing him radiate ease, the comfort of a man that had just found light at the end of a dreary and dark tunnel. Shaking his head lightly, he brought your linked hands up to his lips and kissed your hand once again before placing them right over your heart "I would never fathom anyone other than yourself accompanying me on a day like this, my lovely dove." You sighed at the softness of his voice, if only he knew that you really wanted to be 'his' dove and you still had yet to know that he felt the same. Pressing a soft kiss upon your knuckles, a grin stretched on his handsome face, an unmistakable playful glint in his eyes as he simply said "Let's go" and pulled you through the crowds and out of the building you were in. As usual, the man was unpredictable and you never knew what he was up to. When you stood your ground, furrowing your eyes at him and asking him why you even left that small party, he clicked his tongue as you told him that he should enjoy being 'the man of the hour'. That was the last thing that he really wanted. Because he was now truly where he wanted to be and if you were going to fight him on it, then he would have to do it the hard way. Swiftly leaning down, he threw you over his shoulders as he strutted the streets, the resounding click of his oxfords on the pavement joined by the sound of your useless cries. If there was anything that was true, Arthur was able to match you when it came to stubbornness. When you began to kick your legs, whining for him to let you down, you yelped as he tapped your bottom, a sudden cheeky (literally too) gesture and chuckled in response to your mock offended tone. "I thought you were a gentleman!" Feeling him shrug under you, he replied in between his laughter."A small correction, love. I am a playful gentleman." You've finally found your true rival when it came to that but he was the best opponent that you could ever wish for. Finally halting in a quiet corner by La Seine river, Arthur finally let you down on soft grass and comfortably sat by your side, his head falling on your shoulder while his hand sought yours once again, his thumb brushing softly on your skin as he cut through the silence before you could ask, knowing what was on your mind. "As selfish as it may be, I wanted to be the one you watch the full moon with during your time here, love." Lifting his head so he could kiss your temple, turning his body so he could lay his back on the ground, with his head nestled on your thighs. This was a sight that he prayed that he would never lose, seeing you smile down at him with your fingers threaded through his soft unruly waves, eventually lulling his eyes shut as the slumber that he tried to chase away caught up to him. Blinded by his own love for you, he couldn't see the yearning in your eyes as you watched the man you were irrevocably in love with, melt under your touch. Unable to help yourself, you brushed your lips against his forehead, happy to see Arthur at peace, his breathing growing steady as he slowly fell asleep with a smile on his face. You had no idea that he was awake all along, trying to give himself a reason to keep you all to himself before he had to escort you back to the mansion, in the late hours of the night. Still... While you both bathed in the moonlight, your love began to simmer, the glowing embers burning brighter as time went by. –♥– A/N: I know the some elements in this fic might not be as per what’s in the game but this is how I believe Arthur’s character development would slowly but surely happen. Tagging: @nafeary @kisara-16 @delicateikemenmemes @theweebrises if anyone wants to be tagged or untagged, let me know <3 Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist !

#ikevamp arthur #ikemen vampire #arthur conan doyle #ikemen vampire fanfiction

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starryeyes-darkestnights · 4 years ago

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The City

The second part of the O’Knutzy au where Leo and Logan are still playing for the Lions, but Finn is a musician they met by chance on a roadie to Montreal.

I still don’t know what to call this story! But you can find part 1 here.

Also, this is kind of long, it got away from me :)

The song referenced in this part is The City, by Sam Fischer.

These beautiful characters and their world belong to the incredible @lumosinlove

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leo

When Leo and Logan stepped off the plane in Gryffindor painfully early the next morning, their phones buzzed in unison.

Finn: Hey guys! It’s Finn. Just sending my number. I hope your morning wasn’t too bad after the late night. Mine was excellent, I slept all the way through your entire flight 😇. Anyway, let me know you get this, and I hope you were serious about getting together when we’re all back home. My dancing legs are ready.

Leo heard Logan snort under his breath and looked over to see him smirking as he typed out a response.

Logan: Our morning was awful, thanks for asking. Your dancing legs better be training before we get together again, because I can confirm that as of yesterday, they are not, in fact, ready.

Leo rolled his eyes affectionately, typing as he moved toward the baggage claim.

Leo: Tremz is just grumpy he didn’t get to limbo. Don’t listen to him.

He heard Logan let out an offended sound somewhere behind him and bit back a smile, restraining himself from turning to see Logan’s face.

Finn: Haha, sorry not sorry Logan. Also, if that’s how it’s going to be, then the competition just got real. Bring in the judge. We’ll see whose really got the moves. Spoiler alert, it’s me.

Logan: Challenge accepted. Though I would caution you to reconsider.

Finn: Back down from a dance contest?! Never! THIS. IS. SPARTAAA!!!!

Leo let out a surprised laugh at that. It would seem that Finn shared Logan’s love of a challenge.

Leo: … oh my god.

Finn: You know you love it Leo.

Leo: I do not.

Logan: He does, I can literally see him laughing.

This time Leo did turn around, just in time to see a smirking Logan flipping him off. Leo shot him a glare.

Leo: Traitor!

Finn: Hahahahah

Logan: Ok our ride is here. I’m gonna go pass out.

Leo: Have a good holiday Finn. Let us know when you’re back in town.

Finn: You too guys. Talk to you soon.

Leo clicked off his phone with a smile and grabbed his bags.

One Week Later

Finn

Finn: Hey guys, just letting you know I’ll be back in Gryffindor tomorrow. I’ve got a late flight in.

Leo: Really? That’s cool. I thought for sure you’d be in Montreal until after the New Year.

Finn: Nah, I’ve got some stuff to do for school, and I have a gig the day after tomorrow I need to be back for.

This was at least 50% a lie.

Which meant, Finn had reasoned with himself earlier as he used the exact same line to explain to his family why he had moved his flight up almost a full week, that the other 50% was the truth.

Finn had been messaging with Leo and Logan since they left Montreal, and when he had found out two days ago that they had only had a three day break with their families over Christmas and that they were now back to work in Gryffindor, he hadn’t hesitated before looking for excuses to get back there himself.

As a result, he really did have a gig scheduled for the day after tomorrow that he had to be back for. He may have begged his way through his contacts list for the past two days to find that gig, but it was real. And even though he didn’t have a single thing due for school, if he now had to go back for the gig, he could totally get a head start on something. Which was kind of the exact same thing. So really, it was more like 75% truth. If you rounded, that made it 100%.

Logan: Sweet. Let us know the time and place, we’ll come and see if you’re any good without us 😉.

Finn scoffed at his phone. He dropped a pin with the location of the gig, took a selfie of himself shooting a rude gesture Logan’s way, and grabbed his guitar.

He prided himself on always putting his best into every show, and if Leo and Logan were going to come to this one, he needed to be a little extra prepared. He hadn’t been able to get either one of him out of his mind since the night they met, evergreen eyes and a sweet dimpled smile flashing behind his eyes every time he tried to play. It was going to be impossible to focus when they were right there in front of him, so if he didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself, he needed to get practicing.

---

Logan

Two days later, Logan was waiting for Leo outside of a coffee shop in downtown Gryffindor.

It was a chilly evening, starting to snow, and he shivered lightly as he looked up at the flakes floating gently in the light of the coffeeshop windows. He picked one and followed its path through the sky, trying to distract himself from the weird knot that had settled in his stomach earlier in the evening. The one he told himself had nothing to do with the visions of freckles and sinfully long lashes that he was trying desperately to keep from flashing through his mind unbidden.

“Whatcha looking at Tremz?”

Logan had been so focused that he nearly jumped out of his skin when a calm voice sounded just beside him.

His hand flew to his chest as he looked up to see Leo smiling down at him, his cheeks flushed from the cold, and a streetlight behind him lighting up his golden curls. Logan’s pulse stuttered. Fuck. He hated being caught off-guard.

“Mon dieu, Nutty.” He choked out, putting a hand to his heart, which was now pounding against his ribs. “Learn to make noise when you walk. You scared the shit out of me.”

Leo just laughed, “If you were paying attention you would have seen me coming. I’m not exactly easy to miss.” He gestured at his long limbs.

He had a point. Logan made a face at him and turned toward the door, looking up at the sign above the entrance as he tried to pull himself together. It read ‘The Burrow’.

“Come on,” he grumbled, his pulse beginning to calm, “let’s get a drink before Finn starts playing.”

When they walked in, Logan was surprised at what they found. The Burrow was much bigger than it looked from the outside. The brightly painted walls went back further than expected, and a second level ran around the perimeter of the room, giving patrons a view down onto the main floor, where a permanent stage was set up in the front corner. The back wall was taken up by a dark wooden bar, several baristas moving gracefully around one another in quick, practised, movements as they mixed and delivered drinks. The rest of the space was filled haphazardly with tables, and those tables were already filled with people, the low buzz of their conversation filling the room.

It was warm, and bright, and it smelled like chocolate and coffee.

“Wow,” said Leo, looking impressed, “This is… not what I expected.”

Logan hummed his agreement, eyebrows raised as he looked around, impressed at how cozy it managed to be despite its size. His eyes landed on an empty table halfway back from the stage and he nudged Leo. “I’m gonna go grab us seats over there. Will you get drinks?”

Leo agreed, and as he headed toward the bar, Logan started to make his way across the room. He was halfway there when he caught a glimpse of red hair in his periphery. He stopped in his tracks as his stomach made an unexpected flip. Finn was standing near the stage, talking to an older woman who seemed to be helping him with some cables. He was laughing, and even from a distance Logan could see the way his face lit up with it, his wide brown eyes glowing in the warm lights of the coffee shop. Logan was suddenly gripped with the desire to be the one eliciting that laugh, the one who got to be right there to experience it.

He pulled in a sharp breath and stopped himself. This was why he had been trying to block those visions from his mind. It could never happen. Not so long as he was playing in the NHL. Logan had chosen this career knowing it would mean hiding this part of himself away, very deeply, for as long as he wanted to play. He had been doing so well with it, hadn’t even slipped up with Leo. He could shut this down too. Stop it before it had a chance to start.

He took another a deep breath and pulled his gaze away from Finn, moving more quickly now until he was able to slump into the chairs he had targeted. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, trying to get his thoughts back under control. When he opened them again, it was to find Leo right behind him, full lips turned up in an amused smile at catching him staring straight up at nothing for the second time that night. His stomach flipped again at the unexpected sight. Damnit. He needed to get his feelings under control, and he needed to do it now.

“I would ask what you’re looking at again, but it didn’t go so well the first time.” Leo joked as he pulled out the chair across from him.

Logan forced out some kind of noncommittal response and straightened to look at the cups in Leo’s hands, desperate for any kind of distraction from his thoughts.

“What’d you bring me, Nut?” he asked, trying to keep his voice upbeat. But Leo was a goalie, and a good one. His observational skills were well-honed, and he knew Logan. His gaze shot immediately to the older boy’s face, soft blue eyes flickering over his features intently. His eyebrows furrowed and Logan tensed under his gaze, silently praying for him to leave it alone. Whatever Leo saw in his face, he must have decided to let Logan have it, as he gave him a final once-over and then slowly pushed something that looked iced and sugary in his direction.

“I will never understand why you like these things,” he said carefully, “but I picked the most sweet-sounding one they had.”

“I like them because they’re delicious.” Logan replied, grateful to him for letting it go. “You just have no taste.”

Leo narrowed his eyes, “Strong words coming from – “

A voice interrupted him, “Logan Tremblay?”

Logan looked up to find a very pretty girl standing beside their table.

“And Leo Knut.” added a girl standing beside her.

Logan felt relief wash over him at their timing. This was familiar. This was a distraction he could work with.

---

Finn

Finn had just finished setting up the stage when he finally let himself look for Leo and Logan. He leaned against a wall and cast his gaze around the room, smiling at the comfortable familiarity of the space- one he had performed in dozens of times before. He was stoked to be introducing the boys to this place. He loved the Burrow, and the people who filled it. He had been coming here religiously since his freshman year of college, after falling in love with the strange way it managed to be both big and bright, and cozy and warm. He had been delighted by the contradictory nature of the place on his first visit, and had immediately turned himself into a fixture. After a while he had gotten to know the baristas, and through them, the owner, Molly.

Molly had become somewhat of a second mother to Finn over the years, and, due to their similar fiery red hair, was often mistaken by customers for his actual mother- something Finn found hilarious and she found… not so hilarious, given that she was only ten years older than him. It had been Molly who had helped him overcome his stage fright, had set up his first ever show here at The Burrow way back when. She was also the one who had come through when he was pleading for gigs earlier that week, and even though he was suspicious of the fact that she had, uncharacteristically, not questioned his last-minute request, he had been very happy to see her that evening when she had popped by and helped him untangle a mess of cables.

Now, though, there were only two people Finn wanted to see, and he was hoping to catch them before he started playing. His eyes skimmed across the crowd of cheerful patrons and quickly caught sight of Leo’s tousled blonde curls moving across the room, a head higher than almost everyone else. His smile gave way to a grin as he watched the younger man sit down at a table and pass a drink to Logan. Excitement thrummed in his veins as he pushed off the wall toward them, only to be stopped dead in his tracks when he saw two girls approach the hockey players. He watched as they introduced themselves, and his stomach twisted as Logan sent one of them a cocky, flirtatious grin, pulling out the chair next to him. The girls joined the table and leaned in, and Finn’s smile turned rueful. Of course. He didn’t know what he had been expecting from this reunion exactly, but as he watched Logan flirting shamelessly from where stood, he realized that he had been hoping they felt what he felt when they first met. That they had experienced the same sparks. Now, as reality came crashing down around him in the form of two beautiful girls, he recognized how ridiculous those hopes had been. They were NHL players for fuck’s sake. He was an idiot for thinking either one of them could have been anything more than a friend. He gave them one last look and changed his trajectory to the washroom instead.

---

Leo

Leo was worried. He had noticed something was up with Logan as soon as he saw him outside the Burrow earlier that evening. He had been distracted; his eyes distant. By the time they had sat down inside, he was completely in his own head, and the tension in his body was visible. Leo had wanted to ask him about it, but after seeing the panic that flashed across his features when he made a move to do so, he had decided it was best to leave it alone for the time being. Give Logan the chance to bring it up himself.

But now Logan was flirting, openly and brazenly, with this random girl who had recognized him from the Lions, and Leo couldn’t leave it alone anymore.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to seeing Logan flirt — Logan was gorgeous, girls were constantly coming up to him at bars. But he didn’t usually encourage them this boldly. At least not when he was sober, and never if they recognized who he was. They had had more than one lecture from Coach Weasley about power dynamics and taking advantage of people who looked up to them, and Logan took them seriously. This wasn’t like him.

After politely cutting off the conversation he had been trying to hold with the girl now seated beside him, Leo cleared his throat and spoke loudly enough for Logan to hear.

“Hey Tremzy, I think it’s time to go grab that snack.” He sent a bright smile to the girls. “It was really nice to meet you both. I’m glad to hear you’re fans of the team. Maybe we’ll see you at a game sometime.”

He kept that fake smile plastered on his face as he pushed his chair back from the table, catching Logan looking up at him with annoyance clear in his expression. Leo raised an eyebrow and prayed he would go along with him. He didn’t know what was going on with Logan, but what he was doing here was not okay, and it needed to stop.

Logan held his gaze for a moment before he huffed out a breath through his nose, his expression softening as he nodded. The tension he had built up since walking into the coffee shop seemed to bleed out of him as his shoulders dropped. He turned to the now confused looking girl beside him and gave her the same line Leo had used, shaking her hand and standing to follow Leo to the bar.

Leo waited until they were out of earshot before stopping and turning to Logan.

“You want to tell me what that was about?”

Logan sighed in response, pulling his hat off his head and running a hand through his hair before replacing it. “I don’t know. I wasn’t going to take it farther than that, I swear, I just…” He looked down at his shoes. “Look, I’m sorry. Can we just forget about it?”

Leo just watched him, waiting patiently until Logan’s eyes met his again. He reached out and rested a steady hand on his shoulder.

“Are you ok, Tremz? You seem… out of it, tonight.”

“What? No. I’m fine. Really. Just tired.” Logan tried his best to look it, but Leo saw right through him. He had spent the better part of the past year trying to pretend to himself that he didn’t want to learn everything there was to know about the beautiful man in front of him. He had failed, miserably. He knew Logan, and he knew something was still bothering him.

He briefly debated whether or not to push it this time, but even though Logan was clearly not yet fine, getting called out seemed to have helped. He did seem more like himself than he had five minutes earlier. So Leo settled on trying to cheer him up instead, resolving to follow up later when they weren’t in public.

“Alright,” he nodded at Logan, letting him have his excuse, “but you know I’m always here if you need me.”

Then he switched to a teasing voice. “You want me to order you another disgusting excuse for a coffee? Maybe that’ll wake you up.”

Logan let out a small laugh at that, and his smile finally seemed genuine. Leo nudged his shoulder and started moving toward the bar again.

“Come on. Finn’s gonna start any time, and I was serious about the snack. I need cake.”

Leo didn’t need to look back to know that despite the eyeroll he was certain had occurred, Logan would follow him to wherever there were baked goods.

---

Finn

Finn had given himself an excellent pep talk in the washroom, telling himself it was good he had come to his senses about the boys now, while he was alone, instead of embarrassing himself in front of them later. The disappointment he felt was still settled deep in his chest, but he knew himself well enough to be aware that he worked through his feelings best on a stage. And luckily for him, that was where he was currently headed

From the moment he started the show, Finn let himself get lost in the music, feeling his spirits lift back up as he watched the energy of the room rise and fall with his, letting the tempo of the songs he played encourage their dancing or their calm swaying. He had managed to sneak one of his own songs into the set list, and he played it for people for the first time, watching for reactions and not holding back his smile when people seemed to like it. It was a hard one for him to sing, bringing back some not so great memories. He didn’t look for Leo or Logan again, but he knew they were there, and he put in his best effort to make sure they were entertained. By the time he started his final song, his mind was blissfully clear again. Thank god for music.

After wrapping up the show with a grateful thank you to the crowd for their support, Finn started once again looking forward to reconnecting with the two men he suspected would become important to him. He may not be able to get rid of whatever these decidedly non-platonic feelings were, but he was confident he could push them to the side to make room for their friendship.

He had just hopped off the stage – buzzing with post-show energy, sweaty, and looking for water – when a familiar French-Canadian accent sounded from behind him. “Ok, you win. I admit that you are still incredible, even without our help.”

Finn spun around to find a head of dark curls bowing dramatically in front of him, Leo a few steps back with his eyes closed and a hand over his face, as if hiding from Logan’s antics. He threw his arms in the air and grinned at the two of them, genuinely happy to see them. “Guys! You made it!”

That brought a smile out of Leo. “Of course we did,” he laughed as he and Logan both moved in to give him congratulatory high fives, “your show was incredible, by the way. These people really liked you.”

Finn smiled sincerely at that. “Thanks, Leo.”

Leo handed him a bottle of water. “Also, we thought you might want this. You were looking kind of sweaty.”

“Oh my god, you absolute gem of a human,” Finn moaned as he cracked open the bottle, “I was just about to go hunt one of these down.”

Logan watched with an amused smile as he downed the whole thing in one go. “Glad to be of service.”

Finn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shot them both a grateful look “So much better. Thank you, guys.”

He looked back toward the mess he still had to pack up from the stage. “I need like twenty minutes or so to get this all cleaned up, then did you guys still want to head down to the bar?”

The three of them had previously planned to head out to a place down the street after Finn’s set, and Finn was looking forward to releasing some of the evening’s adrenaline on a dance floor.

“Ya, for sure.” Leo responded, eyes flicking up to the stage. “Is there anything we can help you with?”

“Nope! Cleaning up is a lot easier than setting up. You guys go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be done here quick.”

Leo and Logan looked at one another, and Logan looked like he was about to object, so Finn started shooing them away. “Go!” He encouraged them, waving his hands to guide them back toward the tables. He wanted them to enjoy themselves, not be stuck helping him clean. “It’s fine, I do this all the time, I have a system, I promise. Get a nice drink and relax.”

Logan put his arms up in surrender, green eyes sparkling with laughter as he watched Finn flap. “D’accord, ok, we will go. Put your crazy hands away. Just let us know if we can help, ok?”

Finn agreed, and then watched them head back over to the bar with a smile on his face. He was surprised, he thought to himself as he started looping up cables, at how the interaction left him feeling. He had expected to be a little nervous and awkward, especially after the way the evening began for him, but instead he found himself immediately feeling the sort of comfortable ease that usually comes from being around people you’ve known your entire life. It was like they belonged together.

As friends, he reminded himself. Only as friends. He could totally do this.

---

Logan

Logan leaned against the bar, playing with the strings of his hoodie as Leo once again ordered drinks for them. He was feeling much better now, the knot that had taken up residence in his stomach earlier that evening finally gone. There had been something calming about watching Finn move across the stage, singing familiar covers with an energy that was uniquely his own. He had poured himself into it, connecting to the songs in a way that drew the audience, including Logan, along with his every move. It had been fascinating, seeing that version of Finn. His grin was still mischievous, his movements still wild, but he was also… purposeful. Less dorky on stage than he had been on the dance floor. Logan had been mesmerized. Sitting there next to Leo’s steady, grounding presence, letting Finn’s charisma pull him out of his own head, Logan had slowly unwound. By the time Finn had finished his final song, something unfamiliar that Logan had made a note to download later, he felt much more like himself.

“Hey, Nut,” he nudged Leo’s arm, “ask them what Finn likes. We should get him something for when he’s done.”

Leo looked over as the barista dropped three drinks on the counter in front of him, a stray curl falling in his eyes. “Already on it, Tremz.”

Logan ignored the way he wanted to reach out and push that curl back, and looked down at the drinks, surprised. “Oh shit. You’re fast.”

“Yes, Logan. That’s what happens when you don’t run through the entire list of drinks and their ingredients before you order.” Leo responded drily, standing as he wrapped his long fingers around two of the beverages in front of him.

“Well, how else are you supposed to know which one is going to taste the best?” Logan picked up the third cup, his own iced coffee, and sucked at the straw happily.

Leo huffed out an affectionate laugh. “You get the same thing every time anyway! Why does it matter?”

Logan shrugged as they headed back to their table. “I switch up the flavours sometimes. It’s not my fault nobody’s come up with anything better yet.”

They were still bickering about the pros and cons of knowing every component of your iced coffee when Finn pulled out the chair next to Leo and flopped into it with a grin. “Hey guys! Thanks for waiting.”

Logan looked over at him, definitely not noticing the way the warm lighting brought out the freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose. “Finn!” He cried, pointing at the redhead. “We have a drink for you, but first you have to pick my side in battle.”

Leo’s jaw dropped, affronted. “Logan! You can’t bribe your way to a win!”

“Watch me.”

Finn looked between them, amusement spreading across his face. “Hmm. Well, I don’t know what this battle is, but before I decide whether to help Logan cheat his way to victory, I need to know if the drink is worth it. What’s in it?”

There was a startling flurry of movement as Leo groaned loudly, dropping his face into his hands, and Logan jumped up from his chair with his fists in the air, letting out a victorious cheer. “Aye!! Right answer Finn!” He high fived the redhead and sat back down, feeling triumphant.

Finn laughed, looking startled and confused but accepting his drink from Leo’s outstretched hand anyway. He took a sip as the taller boy fold his arms on the table, dropping his head to hide inside of them.

“Hey! This is my drink. How did you know?”

“We asked the barista,” Leo’s muffled, grumpy, voice came from where his face was still buried in his arms. “She knew.”

“Chin up buttercup!” Logan crowed, leaning over to ruffle Leo’s blonde curls. “It’s ok to lose sometimes. As long as you’re not me.”

Leo lifted his head, eyes narrowed at Logan. “I am not a buttercup.”

Finn couldn’t help laughing at his disgruntled face. “Do you prefer daffodil?” Leo turned the withering glare his way. Finn tried again. “Marigold?”

Leo just dropped his head again.

“Meh, I’ll call that a win. Marigold it is.”

Logan chuckled, deciding it was time to offer up an explanation for the scene Finn had walked into. “Leo doesn’t think it’s important to ask what’s in a drink before you order it. We were discussing why he’s wrong.”

Leo’s head shot back up as he glared at Logan again. “That is NOT what—” He stopped himself, sighing and closing his eyes as Logan just looked at him, face gloating. “You know what. No.” He opened his eyes again and raised his hands in surrender. “It’s fine. I accept my defeat.”

“Good man.” Finn clapped him on the shoulder. “Way to be the bigger person.”

“Thank you, Finn.” Leo smiled at the other man before turning to Logan. His intimidatingly blank goalie face slid perfectly into place as he looked Logan dead in the eyes. “I will get you back for this.”

Logan, used to Leo using this tactic to try and throw him off on the ice, simply met his gaze and grinned back cockily, straw between his teeth. “I look forward to you trying.”

“So,” Finn jumped in, changing the subject, “did you actually like the show?”

Leo turned to him, a genuine smile returning to his face. “We did! You didn’t tell us you wrote original music.”

“Is that what that song was? The last one?” Logan asked, surprised.

“Oh, ya. I don’t always play my own stuff at shows like the one we had in Montreal, but I can usually get away with sneaking a couple in at places like this. It’s part of why I like playing here so much.”

“I really liked it,” Logan complimented Finn, watching a red flush creep across his cheekbones again, “I was actually going to ask you what it was so I could download it. It reminded me of when I first moved to Gryffindor.”

Finn looked at him with an unreadable look on his face. “Seriously?”

Logan nodded, worried that he had said the wrong thing.

“That’s… I wrote that song about Gryffindor. About what it was like when I first moved here and didn’t know anybody. Before I made friends, before I discovered this place.”

“You really captured it.” Leo said softly.

Finn looked flustered, his calloused fingers rubbing the back of his neck in a way that made Logan want to take their place.

Leo, ever intuitive, noticed Finn’s discomfort and changed the subject, “You mentioned you were in grad school, are you studying music?”

“Nope! English Lit.” Finn looked relieved for the new topic, his features brightening. “But I did double major with music in undergrad.”

Logan sat back, content as he listened to the boys across from him talk, first about music and Finn’s connection to the Burrow, then about hockey, chiming in from time to time with questions or stories of his own as they moved smoothly between subjects. The time flew by as they chatted animatedly, and by the time Logan thought to check his watch, it was close to 1 am.

Surprised, he looked up at the room around them and realized it was nearly empty. He hadn’t even noticed people leaving. One of the baristas was sweeping the floor. He waited for Finn to finish a story about the time he had accidentally adopted his neighbours pet (“I helped her look for her cat for almost two weeks before I realized it was the one I had been feeding every night. Embarrassing does not begin to explain.”) to point it out to them.

“Uh, guys, I think we’re about to be kicked out.”

Leo and Finn both looked startled, turning to look around the room the same way he had, and Logan realized he wasn’t the only one oblivious to what had been going on outside of their bubble. The thought made him feel strangely happy.

Finn looked back at Logan, surprised. “Huh. I had no idea. What time is it?”

“Almost one. I know, I didn’t realize either.”

Leo checked his watch. “So it is.” The corners of his mouth turned down a bit, “I guess we aren’t going to the bar then. Sorry guys, I should have been paying attention”

Logan shook his head and reached over to nudge Leo’s shoulder. “Not your fault, Nut, none of us were paying attention.”

“Plus,” Finn added cheerfully, “now we get to add ‘closing down a coffee shop’ to our list of accomplishments as a trio. We already had the bar checked off, so no loss.”

Leo met Logan’s gaze across the table, blue eyes twinkling. “We’ve started a list?”

“Yes.” Finn stated, his voice confident. “We have. Which means we now need to make a plan to cross off the next item on it.”

“Okay,” Logan conceded, leaning his elbows on the table, fingers steepled, “I’ll bite. What’s next on the list?”

Finn looked at him, aghast. “Logan. That is not how the list works. The list is clearly unlabeled. We must first have the adventure, and then name it.”

Logan regarded him for a long moment. He had to give him credit, Finn could hold a straight face when he wanted to. But eventually, a twitch from the corner of his mouth gave him away and Logan dropped his arms and leaned back in his chair, laughing. “You are full of shit.”

Finn grinned in return, all hints of seriousness disappearing as he stood to grab his coat. “Maybe. But either way, we should get together again soon.”

“For sure, drop your schedule in the group chat. I’d love to see you play again, and I’m sure Logan would too.” Leo said as he led them to the door.

Finn’s face lit up at that, and Logan smiled softly at how adorable it was. He felt light and happy as they said their goodbyes, and when he saw Finn’s schedule dropped into their group chat on his cab ride home, he found himself already looking forward to when the three of them could do this again.

#sweater weather lumosinlove #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #I'm still not convinced I know how to do tags right but I am trying my best I promise :(

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theres-an-impulstor-among-us · 4 years ago

Note

I hope you don't mind me bombarding your inbox with requests, but how about some Bdubs and Etho? Maybe some Shade-E-E's new employee training?

Thank u so much for this <3 I strayed slightly off prompt but I know you won’t mind :)

Also you are SO welcome to bombard my inbox with requests any time :D

...

One afternoon, Etho is checking his profits at Shade-E-E’s like normal when he hears the door slide open. Glancing over, he spots Bdubs walking into the room, looking rather grumpy.

“Hey, Bdubs,” Etho says cheerily. “How’s it going?”

“I got stung by a bee and nearly killed by endermites,” Bdubs replies bluntly. “Why couldn’t you have sent me to do free glass instead?”

“Because everyone already has enough free glass. What people need right now is a lovely gardening service.”

“But you always say there’s no such thing as “enough” free glass,” says Bdubs innocently.

Etho considers this for a moment. “That’s true, I do say that. Okay, why don’t you take out some free glass next. But first, have you had your break?”

“Not yet.”

“Do that now, then. You can take out some free glass after that.”

Bdubs beams. “Thanks, boss.”

“No problem.”

Relieved that his friend has stopped calling him his “delivery boy”, Bdubs heads over to the back of the shop and sits down on the chair.

Less than a minute later, a message comes up on their communicators.

Docm77 was slain by Tactical Tickle

Etho snickers. “You put endermites in Doc’s base?”

“Yup.” Bdubs grins, clearly pleased with himself. “His name was in the Refer A Friend chest so I spawned them in his bedroom.”

“I’m so proud of you, buddy. Anyway, I’m just gonna step into my office for a sec to count profits. Call me if you need me.”

“Will do.”

Bdubs relaxes in his chair in the shop on his own, proud of the work he’s doing. He’s being paid to bamboozle people AND he gets to spend more time with his best friend. To him, it’s a win-win situation.

A few minutes after Etho leaves, the door slides open again and Doc himself storms into the room. Bdubs jumps up from his chair, a nervous expression on his face, and pushes out both his hands, stopping Doc from coming any closer.

“H-Hey Doc!” he says nervously. “L-Let’s just talk about this…!”

“You put those stupid endermites in my bedroom!” Doc thunders. “After they killed me, I was trying to pick up my stuff and a creeper blew up the redstone I’d been working on all day! This is all your fault!”

Bdubs’s heart skips a beat. He’s known Doc for years; he knows his friend is going to kill him, or at the very least hurt him.

“Doc, I’m sorry, I-!”

He breaks off with a cry as Doc lashes out.

But instead of the punch to the face he’s expecting, he feels himself get pushed backwards, causing him to trip over his foot and tumble to the floor. When he looks up, he finds Etho standing in front of him, facing off against Doc, sword in hand.

“Doc, I need you to leave.” Etho sounds steady and stern, but Bdubs has known him for long enough that he can detect a slight hint of pain in his voice.

“Your employee caused me a death AND-!”

“Listen, I run this business,” Etho interrupts. “The buck stops with me. And I’m sorry about what happened, but there’s no call for violence. Please leave until you calm down, and THEN we can talk about it. But you don’t get to come into my place of business and assault one of my employees. Now LEAVE.”

Doc’s narrowed eyes flicker from Etho to Bdubs, who gulps. He isn’t sure if Etho can beat Doc in a fight if it comes down to it.

But thankfully, after a moment, Doc backs down and leaves.

Dropping his sword, Etho turns to Bdubs and offers him his hand, but Bdubs freezes as he takes in his best friend’s face. “Oh my god, Etho…!”

The skin around Etho’s right eye is bruised and swollen, and his eye is red and half-closed as a result. He gives a thin smile. “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

Bdubs hesitantly lets Etho help him up. He winces as he gazes at his best friend’s swollen eye. “I’m so sorry, Etho…!”

Etho shakes his head firmly, gingerly touching his eye. “It’s not your fault, Bdubs. Are you okay?”

“Me?! I’m fine. Are you sure you are?”

Etho hesitates, wrestling with whether to tell his best friend the truth or not.

Finally, he says, “I can’t see.”

Bdubs stares at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve always had vision problems in my left eye. And now I can’t see properly out of my right eye either.” His voice shakes, finally betraying his fear. “I can’t even see you properly and you’re right in front of me. All I can see of you is a fuzzy outline.”

“Oh, man…” Bdubs hesitates, grimacing sympathetically. “I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do?”

Etho shakes his head. “No no, I can do it myself. You can take the rest of the day off if you like. I’ll be in my office.”

Bdubs watches his friend very slowly walk towards the entrance to his office, almost bumping into one of the chests as he did. “Okay, okay, hang on a sec. Wait. Stop moving.”

Etho pauses as Bdubs comes up next to him and lifts Etho’s arm over his shoulder. “Come here, I’ll get you down to your office.”

“R-Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah, cuz without me, you’re definitely gonna fall down the ladder and break your neck.”

Bdubs guides Etho to the entrance to his office and then down the ladder, constantly talking to his best friend to make sure he doesn’t miss a step or a handhold. When they get to the bottom, Bdubs leads his friend to the sofa set up in the corner and lies him down.

“Here, I’ve got an ice pack.” Bdubs takes out a piece of ice from his inventory and wraps it in his headband, before pressing it gently against Etho’s eye.

Etho lets out a quiet hiss, before relaxing as the pain is relieved. “Ahh. I’m so glad Doc decided not to fight me, cuz he would definitely have kicked my ass. I can only just hold my own against him with ONE working eye.”

Bdubs watches him awkwardly. “So...um… How long have you had vision impairment in your eye?”

“Left or right?”

“You know exactly which one I mean.”

Etho clears his throat. “Since I got the scar.”

“I see…” Bdubs hesitates, wondering whether to ask further. “How… um… How did it happen?”

“I’m sorry, Bdubs, but that’s not a story I’m ready to tell yet.”

Bdubs sits back, nodding. “Yeah, I thought not. Don’t worry, I totally understand. But if you ever want to talk about it, or anything else for that matter, I’m always ready to listen.”

Etho gives his best friend a grateful smile. “Thanks, Bdubs. I appreciate that.”

“Hey, I should be the one thanking you,” Bdubs responds. “You saved me from a nasty punch.”

“Bosses always protect their employees.”

Bdubs scoffs. “Uh huh, yeah.”

“Well…” Etho chuckles. “While that IS the truth, I honestly didn’t even have to think about it. The instinct to protect you got burned into my code years ago.”

“Ah…” Bdubs pauses, trying not to show his friend how emotional that one sentence has made him. “Well, uh… Th-Thanks. That means a lot. Anyway, you… you’d better rest your eye for a bit. I’ll keep sorting through the subscriptions upstairs; call me if you need me.”

“You don’t have to do that,” says Etho softly. “I don’t mind if you call it a day and head home.”

Bdubs shakes his head. “No way, I’ve got work to do. Besides, if I leave now, you’ll eventually get hungry and go looking for food on your own and inevitably get your ass kicked by that ladder.”

Etho can’t help a laugh. “Your opinion of me is incredible.”

“My opinion of you is extremely high. I just know you’re enough of a derp to try climbing up a twenty-block ladder half-blind and we both know how that’s gonna go.”

“Okay, yeah, I can’t really argue with that.” Etho smiles. “Thanks, Bdubs.”

Bdubs pauses at the ladder and looks back at his best friend. Etho is always so strong and capable, even if he can be a bit of a moron at times. But this incident has reminded Bdubs that everyone has weaknesses, and that’s okay. He’ll always be there for Etho and Etho will always be there for him, no matter what.

So he smiles. “Thank you too.”

#hermitcraft #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #etho #ethoslab #shade-e-e’s #Vaunna writes

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step-on-me-khun · 4 years ago

Text

Right By Your Side

SFW/NSFW:

Warnings: Angst, major character death

Word Count: 1828

I got this idea from listening to a particular song, and I actually got a bit emotional writing it, make of that what you will, sorry you’re getting angst on Valentine’s Day. This will be posted on ao3 when I wake up as it’s just past midnight

Fighting would sometimes result in death, in some form of graphic or unseen injuries. It's always difficult to ensure everyone's safety, to predict any unknown opponents strengths or weaknesses. Would this fight produce someone's death, or would a serious injury be its result?

Blue eyes opened, the feeling of being numb spread throughout Khun's body. A sudden sharp pain was felt in his head as he sat himself up. The metallic taste of blood was in his mouth.

He thought he had dreamt it all, his imagination getting a good, tight hold on his brain and playing tricks on him. But this was all real. The surroundings were painted red with blood, the bodies of strangers lying lifeless on the ground. Some had been impaled, others decapitated. It was all so brutal and horrific.

This was a massacre, but he felt unsure as to who had started it. Very few of the bodies around him were breathing, and some of them were only just taking their last breaths.

It unsettled Khun. His heartbeat rocketing as the looked around, trying to pinpoint any familiar face. But it all seemed worthless, everyone around him was nothing more than strangers to him. He couldn't see Shibisu, or Endorsi, or even Baam. Panic and dread swept through him, from his head down to his feet, sending a shiver through him.

He wanted to run, to find the team that had been separated. But Baam was the only person his mind was on. The more he thought about the situation, the more the panic blocked out everything else.

Why couldn't his damn feet move? This was just so fucking stupid, no previous fight had conjured up this amount of fear in him, so why was this so different? Was it that he didn't know Baam's current location? I wasn't just that, he wanted to know how badly he was injured. He wanted to heal him. But with time passing him by, and his thought processes going into overdrive, any injury Baam would have got could have gotten worse.

These damn voices in his head, reassuring him that Baam was okay, made him want to just shout out to shut the fuck up. His sanity was being tested every single second he stood there.

"Khun!" Shibisu shouts from a distance, snapping Khun out of his thoughts and panic.

"Sh-Shibisu," Khun's low voice says softly.

Shibisu's silhouette got closer and closer, revealing Hatz, who was on Shibisu's back, unconscious. The lower left leg of his tracksuit bottoms shredded, his leg all bloodied.

"What happened here? Either I've forgotten, or this all happened so suddenly,"

"I have no idea, maybe something's messing with our memories,"

"Figures you'd be alive, earrings," Hatz says hoarsely, his consciousness returning to him.

Khun smirks smugly at Hatz. "I was going to say the same thing about you," Khun says sarcastically.

"By the way," Shibisu starts, distracting Khun slightly from his thoughts, "you've not seen anyone else have you? I've only found Endorsi and Hockney, and they said that they saw the rest of the group other than Baam,"

Khun's eyes widened, and his feet ran as fas as he could.

"Hey, wait a minute, Khun!" Shibisu shouts, but it wasn't enough to stop Khun from rushing forward, his fear and anxiety overwhelming.

There were too many people around, too many bodies covered with their own blood. Everything around him made him assume the worst.

Shibisu hadn't seen him, no message had been sent to his pocket. Damn it, he just wanted reassurance that Baam was still alive, and still breathing, he would dread Baam losing a single ounce of blood. As determined at Baam was, Khun was worried that he'd get into a situation that would prompt him to give his life because of his stubborn nature.

Baam, don't you dare be dead. Khun thought he had lost him once, and had to try to survive without him, god forbid he ever lose him again, permanently.

The sight of blood around him felt like the sea, a never-ending ocean of despair and fear. He felt as if he was going to be swallowed by his fear.

He took the chance to stand still, catching his breath. A single tear dropped from his eye, trailing down slowly, then dropped to the floor, his eyes caught a glimpse of it as it fell.

When was the last time he cried over Baam? It must've been years ago when he thought that Baam was dead. He spent that night bawling his eyes out quietly like a baby. He pride made sure that that tear was the only one that fell from his sapphire orbs.

"I'm never going to find him in this mess," Khun complains silently, his feet running again.

Was this pointless? It is worth trying to find him? Yes, and yes, it didn't matter what others had said to Khun in the past, what that Silver Dwarf said to him, even if Baam does get strong and more powerful than him, Khun would always follow. Baam wasn't pointless or worthless at all, even if Khun was, he just wanted to be by his side. It was paining him to imagine Baam lying in a pool of his own blood, the light from his eyes fading away.

The more he ran, the less amount of people he saw, and most importantly, his eyes perceiving them as not that injured at all. It gave him just a slither of hope that Baam was okay, and that he would eventually find him.

It didn't matter how long it would take him, he wasn't giving up until he found Baam alive. Every happy memory, every smile of his, it made it harder for him to want to give up on his search. Those smiles and memories were what he would live for. If he could sacrifice his life to make sure Baam was safe, he gladly would.

His eyes continued to scour around while he ran, trying to find a single trace of Baam. He stood still for a moment as his eyes focused on something in the distance. It seemed familiar to you Khun, his instinct driving him to run towards it.

Time stood still as he saw a body lying there, blood staining the floor around it. Yet it still felt familiar, there was a looming sense of dread for some unknown reason. The reason comes to him quickly once he realises it was a body. Not just anyone's body, but Baam's.

Khun's heart dropped to the floor. He gave into his fear and urged his feet to move faster. But the more he ran, the further away he felt Baam was. His heart was breaking with every second, keeping his tears in until he knew for sure it was Baam, and not some lookalike.

His feet slower down as he approaches the body, eye gazing at it, hoping it was all a horrible nasty dream and Baam wasn't lying there.

He was on his side, facing away from Khun, who couldn't even see his face.

"Baam," Khun says, his voice shaking, "oh, god, please be alive." If he believed in any god at all, he would pray, his desperate fear would resort to that if it ever came to it, and it felt like his last resort was near.

"K-Khun," Baam's voice says, hoarse and breathy.

He wanted it to be a dream, he so desperately wanted it to be a dream. Fear was keeping him still, it was stopping him from falling to the floor, and his tears from spilling a river in front of him.

His feet brought him forward, towards the body of Baam, which was heaving from his struggling breaths. Walking slowly in front of him, he could see just how injured Baam was. But was it too late to use the firefish on him? Khun hoped he wasn't too late.

"You always end up getting yourself in some sort of trouble," Khun says, his voice trembling. His pale hand reached for Baam's.

Baam's eyes open slowly, his near lifeless eyes looking into Khun's sorrow-filled ones. He smiles a little at Khun.

"You knew that, and you still decided to follow me," he comments.

"I'll always follow you Baam," Khun says, squeezing Baam's hand.

"Mmm," Baam moans out in pain, "you're holding my hand a little too tightly,"

Khun bit his lip as he watched Baam's eyes closely, not wanting them to close for even a second.

"Anything to keep you conscious,"

Every moan and groan of pain Baam let out made Khun feel physically sick. He didn't want to lose him, but that possibility could edge closer and closer by the second.

Baam's golden eyes slowly drifted closed.

"No, no, no. Don't you dare close your eyes," Khun says loudly, "I need you here, we all need you,"

Baam struggles to keep his eyes open, his head turns to Khun, his neck injury becoming more prevalent.

"Why didn't you call for me, I'd have come in a heartbeat,"

"I didn't want you to get hurt," he was struggling more and more to breathe, "I'm grateful that you're always there, but I couldn't watch you get hurt,"

All of Khun's emotions came out at once. Tears spilt from his eyes as he clutched Baam's hand tighter.

"You're not going to die dammit, you can't," Khun cries.

"I don't think even you can stop that from happening, Khun," Baam says as he feels the firefish trying to heal him, "goodbye, Khun,"

"I told you, you're not going to die, stop being so stubborn damn it,"

His eyes continued to drift closed, then would flutter open slowly again. Even his eyes and skin were becoming lifeless.

"I love you too much to let you go," Khun says.

Baam's hand slowly slithers out of Khun's and reaches up to Khun's face, his thumb wiping the tears away.

"Thanks for being there, Khun, you've always meant the world to me,"

"Baam, don't, you're not doing this to me, not now,"

"I love you too, Khun,"

Baam's hand falls from Khun's face, the sound of Baam's limb on the ground travelled to his ear.

He was dead, that was it. Khun had no other reason to live, to fight or get stronger. Baam was everything to him, and now that everything had just vanished.

Baam's lifeless body sat beside him. He could hear footsteps approaching, his eye look over at Shibisu, who had finally caught up with him.

"He's dead, Shibisu," Khun says, struggling to hold his tears in any longer, "he's fucking dead and it's my fault,"

"Khun, it wasn't your fault, he tried to save us," Shibisu says.

Khun's hand reaches towards Baam's again, holding onto it tightly. It wasn't right, it wasn't real. Baam's lifeless body was beside him, and damn, did he want to hold onto him one last time. He would have always stayed right by Baam's side.

#tower of god #khun aguero agnis #25th baam #khunbam #khunbaam #khun aa #twenty fifth baam

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gallickingun · 4 years ago

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bnhabookclub’s rules were plagiarized.

when creating the archive/club blog and server, i was looking at other fandom archive blogs, event blogs, fandom servers, writing servers, and the like, and they all seemed to have similar rules. that doesn’t make what i did right.

I PLAGIARIZED THE SOUTHSIDEARCHIVE’S RULES WHEN CREATING THE BNHABOOKCLUB.

my intent was not malicious. regardless of how i felt about alisha/rivendell101 (even though i had never once sent her anonymous hate, made vague posts about her, or was nasty to her in the ssa server or in bnhabc, and never directly had any drama/issues with her), there was no mean intent behind this. i know there’s nothing i can say at this point to make anyone believe that, but i know it’s the truth. and that’s enough for me. i created the bc with the intent to bring writers and content creators together to grow and support one another. that’s it. i didn’t do it out of the nasty hatred of my heart to see anyone else not succeed. i didn’t do it to try and put anyone on top of anyone else, or to push anyone else to the bottom. i just wanted people to be able to work together to have a good time and to improve and get inspired.

regardless of intent, the end result is still the same. the rules on both the server and the blog were plagiarized from the ssa.

i apologize for my prior actions and silence. originally, in alisha’s post, she told me she did not want my apology, so i incorrectly assumed that meant there was no need to address the situation because she deliberately stated that there was no need for a response. regardless, i should have done the right thing and owned up to everything from the start. i apologize for that.

i also want to apologize for the post where someone asked where bookclub came from/originated. i reached out to a mod in another bnha server and asked if we could have more things like the writer bot for sprinting to help create community and hype over each other’s stories. they denied that request because they didn’t want the environment to become to competitive. after that, i started working towards creating an intricate server with a points and rewards system, a fic archive to support other writers (because i had seen all of the upset regarding silent readers lately - originally there was only going to be the discord server alone), bots that were coded by a computer/software engineer (and that we paid to host), etc. i was in several servers at the time, and they all ran very similarly, so i incorrectly believed that there was no need to credit for things such as rules because other servers/blogs were all using the same type of guideline for what they deemed necessary to create a list of rules. i know better now.

again, regardless of intent or ignorance, i should have reached out and requested permission to format the rules like the ssa’s.

the fact that people are using my private messages, sent in the heat of the moment when i was upset, and also out of context, is frankly frustrating. i’ve admitted several times that the person i was around march-june is someone who i loathe. i was petty, i was rude, i was flippant, and i was not myself. i’m not going to blame my mental health, i’m taking ownership of my actions during that time. but that does not mean that is who i am now, months later, after a lot of self reflection, therapy, and intervention from very dear friends of mine. as i stated before, i appreciate being given the ability to grow and learn from these experiences and friendships i’ve had for the past few months.

regarding delaying letting alisha into the bookclub, we weren’t going to let new members in until june 1st. as per her post, she was let in around may 23-25, with everyone else. i would never delay bringing in a new member purely off of personal bias alone. and i’m sorry for the fact that those ss made it seem that way. and regarding her being blocked on tumblr, that was after a (ex)friend of mine warned me that alisha might be the person sending me anonymous hate and i just felt uncomfortable having her on my dash with access to my blog. i do not have her blocked on discord, either. there was nothing personal about it. and the allegations that i’m gatekeeping the bnha/hq fandom are frankly ridiculous. even the person in those ss that i ranted to liked/reblogged/commented/recommended alisha’s fics. alisha has a higher follower count than me, her fics get more notes. depending on how you measure success, you could say that she’s literally a more successful blogger/writer than me, based on notes and engagement alone. nothing i did ever kept anyone from reading her fics and interacting with them. i can also recognize her talent. she deserves those notes, she’s a wonderful writer. i legit have had conversations and ss where i’ve stated this, if she would like the proof.

there is no “NDA” needed to be signed prior to getting into the server, either. i made that announcement because people were upset that these hate blogs are using their messages they send in a private server as ammunition with disregard to how it might make them feel, and also without their consent. it’s not fair or right to use ss of things people say in the privacy of a server to further your agenda. i recognize that i did this in order to address the anonymous hate being sent to me a few weeks ago, which i only did in response to people requesting the “full story”, but i have since deleted the post. if people want to talk about the way they feel to the public, then that’s fine, but discord servers are private places for people to explore their thoughts, desires, and ideas. and i believe they should be kept private. and frankly, the person who is sending these screenshots can just... not let the door hit them on the way out. you’re not welcome if you’re going to lurk, take ss, and not address your issues directly.

i’m going to pin this post, because i do still have my queue running as i’m on semi-hiatus outside of prior obligations such as collabs and matchups, and it will get buried eventually. and this needs to be seen and heard and addressed. i’m not going to answer anonymous hate, i don’t condone anonymous hate being sent, and frankly, if these exposing blogs want to rip apart this post then they’re more than welcome. i feel genuinely horrible for everyone i’ve hurt in the process of all of this, intentionally or unintentionally. i know what it’s like battling mental illness, and i sincerely hope that no one has been triggered or incapable of managing their anxiety throughout this process.

as stated prior, the bookclub is undergoing a full makeover, estimated to be completed by 9/30. this was already started behind the scenes, since we’ve made so many changes to channels, rules, content, roles, etc.. there is going to be nothing remaining from the prior servers without their explicit consent. i really appreciate the time to grow and learn and adjust what’s necessary in order to get everything on the right track.

#tw: discourse

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afraidofmonsters-headcanons · 5 years ago

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So let’s talk about this blog, the fandom, and Viv

Let me start off by saying the main point of this post- I will not be continuing this blog. Why? It’s not because of Hazbin Hotel specifically, but because of the mentality of the fandom, of Viv, and of her friend circle. Friends of mine have been harassed and bullied by Faust and this behavior has been allowed by Viv.

I view Viv as an egotistical person with abusive tenancies, and the fandom is generally no better. It’s a toxic mess of bullying and harassment, and this blog has become a burden for me as a result.

You all know I’ve received anon hate from the fandom before, despite trying to keep a “Pro Viv” attitude on this blog. It generally doesn’t bother me personally and I try to overlook it.

However, I’ve recently learned that the problem is much more wide spread than I thought, and close friends of mine have dealt with harassment from the fandom and from Viv’s circle of friends.

A close friend of mine received “anonymous” harassment that were linked to Faust, which was confirmed by people in Viv’s circle as “something she would do”

Another friend dealt with Faust on a professional level and was treated unfairly and unprofessionally by her, and where harassed when they complained to her about said behavior.

Faust also seems to have a history of unprofessional conduct and mismanagement of time- a simple commission from her can take months to be done, all the while she’s opening up new slots and taking more and more.

People I know Viv’s circle have been bullied by Faust and everything was covered up and kept quiet with nothing being done about the behavior.

Others in Viv’s friend circle has said they don’t like Faust’s behavior and find her cruel, but it’s allowed by Viv and they fear speaking up, otherwise Viv and her fandom will turn on them.

Faust has a history of blocking people when complaints are made towards her, cutting off contact with them and hiding conversations from further viewing so they cannot be screenshotted later on.

Viv herself has a history of loudly calling out criticism against her and turning her fandom against people.

The more I’ve researched into this problem over the past few days, the more I’ve realized it’s not an isolated incident or two- There are pages and pages of screenshots, emails, and interactions between people, Viv, and others in the friend group that show exactly how severe the problem is. Both Viv and Faust display abusive tenancies and are bullies towards anyone who doesn’t agree with their actions.

And that’s not even including the fandom itself.

Fans will harass and threaten anyone who criticizes Viv, going as far to as threaten and suicide bait people.

The fandom is overprotective of Viv’s work and attack anyone with remotely similar ideas and arts styles,

The above point is contributed to by Viv, who loves to claim everyone from Ava’s Demons to Zootopia ripped off her work.

It’s an egotistical, narcissistic attitude that contributes to, and encourages, toxic fandom behaviors. She does nothing to control her fandom and lets them run wild.

So while I will always be grateful for the people the fandom has introduced me to, for the fun times this blog has brought, and for the positive people in the fandom, I don’t want to be included in this toxic mess anymore.

I also ask anyone who sees this post to truly think critically of Viv’s actions and behaviors, and ask themselves if they want to be a fan of someone who’s more than happy to bully and abuse just to stroke her own ego more.

That all being said, I’m not going to delete this blog, and I’m not going to give it over to someone else. If anyone would like to make a new Hazbin Hotel Headcanons blog, go ahead. I’ll still pop on occasionally to check messages, but I won’t be posting any new headcanons from now on. I do have a review of the pilot drafted up, so that will be posted too whenever I get around to finalizing it.

#vivienne medrano #vivziepop #vivzmind #hazbin hotel #zoophobia

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twiceblackvelvet · 4 years ago

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forgive me for the long post, i’m still trying to gather my thoughts on this situation but i’m going to do my best to address the most common issues people bring to me because clearly my intentions are being misconstrued, have become confused for some of you and people attempted to put a lot of words into my mouth last night that i never stated.

i’m also not the best at explaining myself at times but i am going to do my best to offer my own perspective as well as insight into my thinking, so if anyone is confused by anything detailed here, you can simply ask me in a polite manner and i will talk about it with you.

tw // mentions of anxiety, transphobia, self harm, suicide, harassment

i have for a long time discussed my dislike of this community when i first joined it. i thought that the big accounts were all in cliques together, not willing to help anyone and that they just never really cared about much except issues regarding themselves. i’ve also talked about how i personally did not want to be like that as i am unable to just simply “ignore” things i see happening, in fact, i struggle to let go of them as i do tend to hyperfixate on negative situations where i’ve felt like my feelings have been hurt which is very easy for me to feel like has happened even if someone wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. i have felt this for a large part of my life which never really became clear to me until i realised it’s also a part of adhd or more specifically rejection sensitive dysphoria.

i feel my emotions incredibly intensely and whether someone intended to upset me or not, i will in the majority of situations i’m in convince myself that they meant to hurt me and then i’ll put myself down because of that. it’s a lot harder for me through a screen to decipher people’s intentions but i try my best not to let it bother me too much, which isn’t easy whatsoever.

i also have anxiety which makes it hard for me to deal with certain situations where increased hate is thrown around so casually because i will start to panic. it also makes it hard for me to approach others particularly when i’m already in a state of anxiety which is kind of a cruel, twisted joke by the universe when you think about it.

however, i do find issues within this community incredibly important to discuss so that people can see how others have had to deal with such things as transphobia and make people realise we can all do better to protect others or make certain changes to try and stop it from happening. so, i always try my best to do what i think is right. people are free to disagree with my methods if they wish but i don’t believe you can stamp out some of these problems by talking about it behind closed doors as no one will ever know what your thoughts on it are, you have no way of educating others and it can come across as unsupportive instead.

when i first decided to use my voice back in May to talk about what in my opinion was one of the bigger accounts within this community, i figured that i had opened the floor for conversations that needed to be discussed about cis-het people in lgbt+ spaces. instead i was met with anonymous messages telling me to harm myself, i received lesbophobic slurs and even someone attacking me based on the fact i had pronouns in my bio who assumed i was trans. this was an incredibly difficult situation for me and caused me to almost be “afraid” of my own account for months. i only began to feel comfortable again when the issue with that same person arose just a few months ago which resulted in them deactivating.

i’m aware there are people out there who are upset with me and others for what they feel is us “bullying” this person off the platform, but what i see is that lgbt+ people/accounts finally decided to keep our spaces safe and i see that people are far more comfortable now with that person gone, whether you like it or not, that is the truth of the matter. they made people feel invalidated, they encouraged violence against lgbt+ people and felt like everything they did was fine. it was not. it never was.

for some reason afterward, people began coming to me to tell me about other people within this community who perhaps didn’t address something or had been friends with that person. i personally struggle to talk to anyone who was friends with them because i know some of them saw the original issue back in May and could have spoken up to at least try and stop people sending death threats, but they didn’t. however, i don’t think these issues have a time limit for people to speak up nor do i think people should instantly go to hate anyone who doesn’t but rather ask them “hey did you see x problem, what are your thoughts?” and then base what happens next on their answer.

but i want to make something very clear, sending messages to people telling them to harm themselves etc. is never the answer. it only causes more pain and takes away the opportunity to have an educational conversation with that person to perhaps make them see that their views may be problematic.

i’m only one person, you know? do i believe that i have this “power” that anons keep telling me i do? no. i think that this community has for a long time been silent on important matters and thus me and a few other blogs being outspoken on some of the bigger accounts who either once were or still are in the community has shaken a lot of things up for people and some don’t like that. i think when addressing such issues as transphobia and reblogging posts from those who have to go through it everyday who maybe detail things they experience, some people have realised they too hold the same beliefs as those who are being called out and by default they feel called out also.

but please don’t ever compare something as dangerous, life-threatening and harmful as transphobia to me not mentioning another creator in an ask. those two are in no way comparable and dilutes the issue of transphobia massively when it has real-life consequences that i’ve personally talked about a situation close to me but also happens every single day unfortunately and we all can do far more/better to protect people who are trans.

i’ve since brought up situations where other creators have either said or done something that i feel is wrong and again, if they’re willing to share opinions that are transphobic or mocking being n/b-phobic publicly, i also think other creators around them have the right to call them out publicly. i won’t apologise for this because again, it can’t be solved behind closed doors as that furthers the silence people previously relied on in this community to avoid helping or supporting others. i think anyone who does believe these things should be discussed privately after the person made it a public issue should reflect on that a little.

as for me not mentioning a specific creator in an ask. it genuinely was not my intention to hurt them or anyone else by not mentioning them, i genuinely just don’t like to talk about people on others’ blogs but especially not if i don’t know the person and they don’t know me. i understand now how that looks bad on me, but i still stand by my choice as i genuinely do not see why it caused such a huge uproar after i had explained myself multiple times.

i have apologised to that creator personally and unfortunately there are other complications there which have made it hard for me to let this issue go, through no fault of their own but rather i just am very aware of how i have now fixated on this and i have to get myself out of that ultimately. but i want to reiterate here that there is no problem on my side toward them, i genuinely just do not like to talk about others that i don’t know. i never have liked that as i’ve had it happen to me but there’s nothing more i can do about it now. i hope they’re able to see i meant no harm whatsoever as i hope the rest of you can but i understand if not.

i’m very aware that at least one of the anons from last night is someone who has previously attacked me on multiple occasions (same language etc.) and it does scare me a little bit that there is someone essentially just watching my account and waiting for me to do or say anything so they can strike and attack me but again there’s nothing i can do about that other than block them from sending asks (tried it) but if they continue to persist i don’t know what more i can do to protect myself from that.

i’ve opened myself up a lot here and i’m very proud of that because it’s something i struggle with, however, i’m also aware people can now use those things against me. but to see that someone mentioned my own relationship last night hurt me deeply because whilst i don’t mind talking about it, i also don’t wish for anyone to feel like they’re close enough to our relationship that they have the right to bring it up so casually as a way to try and hurt either of us or that any of you are entitled to an opinion on it because none of you truly know either of us or how our relationship works, nor will you ever from me at least. ultimately, no one has that right to mention our relationship but the both of us is my point. so don’t try and pull that with me, you won’t like the outcome.

i want to end this by saying that i’m fine and reassure you all that i’ve been able to let all of this go but the truth is i’m not fine right now. i always try to find a “fix” for any problems people have because i want to help everyone but i struggle to do so when it comes to my own ultimately and i also don’t believe there is a “fix” for this but rather i just have to come to terms with the fact that my values in wanting to stand up for others (which i will continue to do) or not wanting to talk about people who i don’t know have ultimately hurt others so i have to figure out a way to bring this back to a positive state for myself. i’m just unsure how currently but i’ll figure it out.

i apologise again for not mentioning a-nxny in that ask, it was not an intentional thing and i honestly did not think or believe anyone would find offense in it and had i known i wouldn’t have done that, but i do hope people can at least see this from my perspective a little bit and then it’s up to you whether you agree or disagree, again there’s no fix for this.

i am begging all of you who read this who maybe has sent hurtful things either recently or previously to please reconsider as that is never the answer and i do not condone anything of that nature whatsoever. if in future you see me talking about certain issues or if another creator does something problematic, don’t then go and harass them with asks wishing them harm. instead either approach them from an educational point of view or dont approach them at all. i am someone who this has happened with and had to get myself out of suicidal thoughts because of people doing this back in May, so don’t do it to someone else, please.

#tw: anxiety #tw: harassment #tw: self harm #tw: transphobia #tw: suicide

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