#clicked on wrong blog and was scarred

[waitwhatl]

clicking on a dodgy blog by accident like

[gazeofseer]

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍?

𓇼🐚☾☼🦪 🎀🫶🏻💌💓

••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°°••....••°°°••....••

Texas, Australia, United States and California, You are a queer by soul who lives by their own even amongst the crowded room, seeking something as distant and indifferent to what seems the same after all, but subtle do you fear the idea behind crossing lines, edges that drew scars around your borderline of heart the reason you easily withdraw the click and connection with places and people, you feel everything should be new as each passing moment because anything that stay longer bored you because you feed in daydreams and expect teh same dosh to be served outside around you, but all you taste is something different but not you.

Guidance : You are looking for yourself from within by blocking all the external settings and invites believing the world to be a harm to your existence throughout your journey down the lane to changing seasons and places so far, now you are just tired and tormented wanting to settle but truly can't keeps you restless.

Leo sun, Aries Rising, 8, Saturn in 9th house, Silver accessories, Denim Jeans, You brought something last week still waiting to be worn.

I see you are not only brain fogging but also bloating with overwhelming thoughts and emotions at the same time because you want but you don't, you don't but you want so badly, you have been guided to not make any decision right now, and not to hang in either, changes kept happening, but you are holding something beyond it did. It could be a little picture or a memory too, let it go to where it belongs it will harm you in the long run. Stop sitting with disappointment, disgrace or insult. Let that find peace within you and embrace these changes as a chance for you to strike this fog with the sword of your consciousness on if the very next second you would die, what will you do in the given second of the moment? Chose what is right, and needed for now that is how you lead life always rightly despite the wrong being gifted.

Netherland, Germany, Scotland, Denver & Amsterdam, there are eerie chills to your soul which plays chivilrious in the darkness and acts demure in the light, like a nasty kid you carry the flaws around the forest creeks but throw a elegant gaze the moment a eye flickers upon you, the mask of basking in solitude feels so enchanting enough to thrive through life beyond its hardship and pain, you take it as gift for the one who got none even sorrow becomes the only life present before.

Guidance : The ostracized child, who was not even a count nor in the quantity or quality leave the first and last of being a choice but never an part of any option to even begin with? I feel you started to heal enough that you understand the value of pain you received so far and treat it exactly right that it has become your that safe home which strengthens you instead to tame, instead of guidance your spirit guides have messages 'That, we really appreciate your pure heart and acknowledge your being of existence as of great as of the any other living, we are around you, when you believe you are lucky enough after seeing something weird l, quirky and unique because that is who you are and we show up there'

Fox teddy, bear, herbivores, cozy vibes, brown eyes, eyeglasses, Aquarius Venus, Capricorn Venus or sun, writing a novel or blog, secret lover.

Paris, France, Italy, London, Russia and South Korea, What beauty of it doesn't scares a bit right? It took you a trail blaze or ages to burn down and pave one path for you that fire runs through your body despite the sickness you feel in your heart and fatigue you carry on your soul, the more you get tested the more pure you mold into the miracles and become the magic itself, you accept the essence of love, that sets free, wild and at the arms of death where one can love so truly to the depths of each feels and moves of life.

Guidance : Okay, so this pile has been through a lot bodily or mentally the sickness which prolonged seems like a default, or your mistake or an accident which made you be on bed for rest and feel this helplessness from the echoes of the room and beyond the sky where slowly you discovered and connected to your soul and learned the ultimate truth of being all that you need to yourself exactly when you need yourself.

'Hey, sorry to interrupt I am just worried and kind off ..sorry again how are you? I hope you are doing well now, I promise I am on my way please, kindly don't give upon me, for that I have not yet arrived into your life, all the lovers you met were the lie you told yourself to hold yourself tight in your head, but let go the grudge and find me within your heart whenever you look into the mirror with those doe eyes, those two flicks of your hair curls around you ear I did kiss those cheeks with freckles and toughened skin, I did hold you like the witch who carries her wretched wand in her power and strength, I love you, can you hear that, I say that everyday before you sleep'

Well, that was tear jerking right? Give me a second.

Important Updated my services list do check (;

[kikker-oma]

Wild Gets Snapchat

The SEQUEL to the SEQUEL

THE FINALE

oh my goodness I cringed so hard reading my older ones but I hope this is better 😅

Oh and I am absolutely destroying Sky in this chapter. I love him so much but I just wanna test out this head canon lol.

ALSO I CAN NOT WRITE MEAN POSTS JUST PRETEND THEIR RUDER LOL. THIS IS ALSO A REMINDER TO ALWAYS BE CAREFUL WHAT U POST ONLINE TO WHOEVER SEES THIS, WORDS HURT AND KINDNESS IS FREE!

____

So maybe he never gotten Snapchat, or perhaps it was the time he messed up with, as the Hero of Time notoriously named, 'Tiktoking'. But this time the champion was serious about this one! He promised!

He could post his food, and get other recipes. What's not to love about the-The champion quickly squinted at the letters, the nights of staring at the slate in the pitch black wearing at his eyeballs. Right he mouthed, his voice a wordless whisper, The Tumblr.

This time, he thankfully learned the old man's password, courtesy of some gentle persuasion (Sorry, Twilight. Didn't mean to give you chocolate). He questioned whether or not Time was forced by Malon to pick said password, but it didn't matter.

"Hey, what are you doing up?" The questioning voice of the chosen hero startled Wild out of his scrolling trance, "That can't be good for your vision."

The fellow hero quickly forced a smile in return, turning over his slate instinctively towards his chest, hiding its contents, "Just looking through some... pictures." The tone sounded hazy towards the end, almost as if questioning his own statement.

Sky didn't give a hint of skepticism from that answer, only placing a sturdy hand on his shoulder before talking, his voice a gentle kind of care that couldn't be matched, "Alright, just get some sleep, 'kay?"

Wild fidgeted his thumbs, clicking the button on the slate to instal without causing alarm, "Okay, goodnight Sky."

And with one last smile, the hero went back to bed.

The next morning, the champion lagged behind the group. His eyes were at work scanning the slate. Different blogs shown up, many that displayed an uncanny resemblance to his adventures, current and past.

Odd.

Looking through more posts, one struck his eye.

I'm starting to regret Hylia's choice of heroes... The writing wrote, intrigued, Wild clicked on the blog.

Chosen_Hero_246

Wasn't Sky the chosen hero? Wild quickly pushed down that question, Sky was sweet. Sky would never do much as step on a fly. Scrolling through the blog, he couldn't help but feel like these... coincidences... were not as much as coincidences anymore.

Smith isn't even that smart, so what if you could hit some metal? I forged this blade too, and last time I checked you didn't go to a proper academy.

Rude. Four is quite the intelligent guy.

Scrolling deeper, he could almost feel the blade of the next words cutting into his heart before he even laid eyes on them.

I think the heroes are getting lazy. I mean, they didn't do a lot of work.

Well, sorry, Tumblr-Sky, didn't know being dead for a hundred years was being lazy. He didn't know having everybody he knew die was being lazy. He didn't know having to carry the award for the biggest fault in the world was being lazy.

And just like that, the slate dropped.

Tears pricked his eyes as he looked down to the now black screen, before a faux-warm presence stood next to him.

"What's wrong?" The voice of the chosen hero that once sounded like a mother holding her child tight felt hollow, yet the ears perceived the voice the same, "You look upset."

"I am upset."

The embrace he received felt as if it was given by air itself. Empty. Nothing. The warmth didn't meet his nerves. The smell of cleaned laundry blown away. The sound of rustling fabric deafened by the wind. The look of comfort now blinded through a salty cloud in his eyes.

"Well, if you need anything, I'm here." His grip felt pinching, nails that once gone unnoticed digging into his scarred flesh.

He couldn't even bring himself to nod back.

Some things were meant to be left inside the head.

Some things were meant to not be downloaded.

(sorry I've been off Tumblr for a few days)

NOOOOOO NOT SKY, THIS CAN'T BEEE

say it aint so😭😭😭😭 not the vent account! I'll throw hands with Sky💥💥💥 but oh sweet poor Wild🥺 yeah sometimes ignorance is bliss. Hopefully sky doesn't actually think these things about his brothers, tho I understand sometimes you need to vent to get out all the bad thoughts.

NOT THE FAKE HUUGGGGG RAAAHHH BLARE YOU HURT ME SO

[rielzero]

Original by for-tymora's blog, altering this slightly and removing some bits to prevent overly spoiling my oc.

30 Questions for Your Tav! [ Ask Meme ]

Your Tav as a Companion

1. What would your Tav’s greetings be (at different levels of approval)?

Negative (<0):

He stares just at you, Clicking his tongue in an annoyed tone.

"Got nobody else?"

"I would prefer if you'd find a better source of entertainment."

Neutral (0 - 19):

"Seems like you've got something to say."

He stares at you, just raising a brow and cocking his head sideways.

“This better be important.”

Medium and up (20+):

"Hmm? Sorry, you caught me off guard."

"Feeling chatty? I don't mind."

"I'm all ears." Gestures to his ears.

When spoken to by someone other than the player character:

"I'd prefer to be in touch with someone better suited for important conversations. No small talk."

Flirting:

Pretends he wasn't intensely eyeballing your back earlier, winks.

"Something wrong, love?"

"Hey, caught you staring.''

"I was hoping you'd talk to me."

"You're looking dreamy today."

"Hello, love."

"..Hmm? Hmm.." He seems happy.

"I was wondering when you'd need me again."

Partnered:

"Hello, partner in crime." Mischief on his face.

"Say what you need, I'm here to listen."

Act 3 Vampire - Partnered:

"You look hungry, or maybe I'm... Heh."

"Ask me anything, anything, anything.."

"I'd kill if it'd make you happy."

"My love, we are so close to victory, I can almost touch it." (To Astarion Origin)

''You're looking splendid and magical today.'' (To Gale Origin)

"Yes, my sun?" (To Astarion Origin)

''Yes, my love?''

Broken up:

He Just looks at you emptily, and disappointed. Dead eyed.

2. Describe their tent setup! What’s on the outside? The inside?

It's the most put-together you've even seen. Stitched to the brim, looks like it can collapse and barely covers the bedroll. Has a bunch of bags surrounding it and crates to support the rest, kind of like a pillow-fort situation.

3. What would their character quest be titled? Why?

I personally haven't decided on this yet. Rat-themed perhaps, or something to do with him looking sickly.

4. What would your Tav’s romance scenes look like? How many would they have?

Probably depends on the Origin character, I can't picture him being romanced by anyone other than Gale or Astarion at this time. There would be romance and bonding scenes.

5. Describe their idle animations!

Cracking neck, cracking bones, stretching uncomfortably.

Pondering, tapping his foot on the ground with arms folded.

Wiping his face and looking at his hand for a moment before wiping it off his pants.

Tightening his arm wraps (would look like he's rubbing his lower arms.)

Casting Shocking Grasp, just to look at the sparks in his hands, then waves it off.

Pulling out his journal and browsing through it or jotting something down.

Sitting down and drawing (Stops upon approach.)

Act 3 idle Animations would be conditional adittions.

Poking his teeth, then stare at his finger..

Observe his wrist scars, turning it around and stroking it.

Scratch his neck scars, stretch.

Looks like he's smelling something, clearly bothered by it.

Pull out a bottle of blood and sip from it excessively.

Sitting down and drawing (doesn't stop when approached.)

6. How would the player go about meeting them in Act 1? What is their introduction?

I've done a post on this before I think, but it would be in the location near the intellect devourers, hunched over and trying to keep himself from hurling.

8. After Act 3, What are they talking about at the reunion party?

Probably about the change of appearance and hairstyle, and how he's doing better than he was after the defeat of the netherbrain. He's still settling down and getting used to things, 6 months wasn't enough.

Back to Basics

9. What’s the significance behind your Tav’s name?

Locke misspells his name, because he came up with it when he was sixteen. In his mind, Loki is written Locke at first because it sounds like ''Lock-i'' to him, he was the lockpicker in a gang of orphans.

10. Does your Tav have a last name? Is there a meaning behind it?

He comes up with it on the spot, it means ''Trick'' and its very much meant to be a trick.

12. Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

Locke's facial tattoo is magic ink, its a protective ward of sorts. Won't elaborate. His scars are all from abuse, different people.

13. What is your Tav’s main color palette? Why do they choose those colors?

Has a strong attachment to purple because of his dead childhood friend, who was a purple tiefling.

14. Where are they from? What was home like?

Baldurian sewers. Not much of a home, more like a nightmare.

15. Is your Tav more likely to fight/flight/freeze/fawn?

He fights in most cases.

17. Do they have any enemies outside of the main plot? Any friends?

He has acquaintances, his closest being a fatherly figure, The Undertaker, Jermaine.

Deep Dives

20. What is their relationship to touch? Do they shy away from it? Do they need it to feel present?

Very much touch-starved, but dislikes casual friendly touch because he's afraid of affection at first.

21. Describe a defining moment from their past, which makes them who they are today!

He has CPTSD, it wouldn't be a singularity, though I'd say the moment he became a warlock is pretty big.

22. How is your Tav’s relationship with their family? Their parents?

The woman who raised him thoroughly abused him, so did the other orphans he was raised with. As adults, their relationship is strained and reduced to just being familiar with one another. He doesn't view them as family. He simply can't.

24. What does your Tav consider to be their own biggest character flaw?

He desires to have something of his own, but fails to give it a place. He feels like everything that he does have will never be completely his own, at times. (I'm being vague on purpose.)

25. What is something they would die on a hill over?

Wizards being prone to explosiveness. He will not accept the reality that some wizards never blow themselves up in any capacity. They're all one wrong step away from exploding themselves.

27. What is the worst thing they think they’ve ever done/said to someone they loved?

Say no to his ex-boyfriend.

28. Describe a smell that reminds your Tav of childhood.

..Cooked Dwarf roast.

29. What fears keep them up at night?

Sleeping in the dark.

30. What does your Tav want more than anything?

Power, or to feel like he's worth something.

[aingeal98]

Steph for the ask game?

three facts about them from my personal headcanons

-The first woman Steph was ever attracted to was Zatanna. She didn't realise this until later on when she was dating Cass and it clicked that it hadn't just been platonic girl crush appreciation

-She did actually die. The body they put in the ground was actually Steph. Due to reality warping from various villains she ended up in Africa with Leslie who admitted that she hadn't actually let Steph die but tried everything and saw her bleed out regardless. They were both highly confused how she was alive again and they never did fully confirm why.

-She has all the autopsy scars and long lasting damage from Black Mask's torture. She used to play the piano but when she came back her fingers didn't stretch the way they used to and the first time she tried it gave her a panic attack.

a reason they suck

They were created and written by Chuck Dixon, which often meant being a part of his shitty conservative propaganda. She was more of a victim than a perpetrator most of the time, but I'd love to have modern Steph reflect on that and be like "Damn that internalized misogyny was kicking my ass sometimes huh."

a reason they are great

What if the entire narrative was stacked against you, what if your writers and editors looked down on you for being a teenage girl and treated you as nothing more than a pawn in their shitty sexist manpain stories. And what if you survived and triumphed and became loved enough to carve your own narrative. What if people have come and gone from the "family" that once excluded you maliciously but you're still here and kicking, a core part of it now. They put you in the Robin uniform as a consolation prize before killing you but you're still here and you're clawing your part in that history with everything you've got. For everyone that'll say Damian is the fourth Robin there's someone who'll reply "Actually that was Stephanie Brown."

a reason I relate to them

Being an isolated teenage girl who feels a deep anger at the injustice of the world and doesn't quite have anywhere to fit in or fully vent that anger? I was literally two bad days away from going out on the street to fight crime when I was a teen. I tend to relate to Cass more because the specific mentality and issues she have resonate strongly, but Steph also has plenty of material for me to dig into.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character

Stephcass. It's gotta be stephcass. I could give a million reasons but I've yelled about this so much on my blog already. They bounce off each other so well, they've got the backstory and angst and complex dynamic while also being funny and cute together. The accidental romantic narrative they created is so damn good it barely needs anything to canonize it at this point.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened

A proper go at being Robin. An apology from Bruce. A discussion with Tim about what they did wrong and an apology too. A long talk with Cass after she came back from the dead with (you guessed it) an apology from Cass. Getting to talk to preboot Jason about what it means to be a sacrificial lamb to give Batman manpain and hype Tim up as the perfect Robin.

five people that character never fell in love with and why

-Dean. Even if she hadn't gotten pregnant it would have never worked out. He was simply too old and for all Steph hates herself she would have realized it eventually

-Detective Gage, for exactly the same reasons as Dean.

-Jason. He died before she came along and by the time he came back it would never cross either of their minds to be anything but purely platonic. They can bond but neither of them appeal to the other romantically.

-Kyle Mizoguchi. He's sweet and they could be something but unfortunately she's in love with Cass at this point. Like the entirety of Batgirls is just Steph and Cass being in love and not realizing it. Kyle had the wrong timing.

-Dick Grayson. The hypothetical age difference isn't a problem for Steph. But obviously, it's an issue for Dick. If she were ever to fall in love with him in an alternate universe and confess he'd be highly alarmed to find out why she thought things were possible between them. It might actually be nice for Steph to get an understanding ear and a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell her that it's not her fault and those men were wrong, but that's all. For one thing Dick is not a scumbag who creeps on young girls and for another thing that's his little brother's ex. In no universe could this ever be more than a one sided crush.

[yandere--stuck]

nosramus's relationship headcanons, maybe? 🫶 idk if you write for them, but if not, ok!!

but speaking sincerely with all my heart; i've been following your blog for a while, and i'll tell you-- i sincerely love your writing, like really - very really !! i giggle and do 10 spins in my room when you post about my favorite characters (or characters i don't even know, 🤭🤭) maybe that sounds not honest ((i don't even know)), but i really mean it.

AND

hope you have a good night/or day (or whatever time is) !!!!!!!!!!

Thank you so so much!!! That's so sweet of you to say and I'm so glad you enjoy my works aaaaa ;w; it means a lot!!

I hope you have a great day/night yourself and that these are good <3

---

🤍 Immortality is both a blessing and a curse, Nosramus has found. Though she finds enjoyment and purpose in her studies and in the mundanity of life, even within the dungeons of Fear and Hunger, this has also led her to a life of loneliness. Many days spent with only herself for company. Her guard is there, of course, but he's not really much for company. It's even manageable most days. But the longer the future stretches out in front of her, the more the chasm in her heart where others had once touched deepens and darkens further.

💛 Such isolation gives her cause to look into different areas of study - such as The Soul. Everyone is born under a specific Soul type that will shape who they are and how their life will play out. Less understood, however, is that concept of a Soul Mate. The idea of one Soul bearer having one (or more) Souls that are naturally attracted or drawn toward one particular Soul type or even particular individual that bears a particular Soul type that seems to inherently click with another's. Once, she had thought she found them. But, she was wrong. She was betrayed and forgotten. In the end, they were the worse for it and Nosramus, in the grand scheme of things, was far better off. Still, she was left scarred by deception. To be alone was better than being hurt again in such a way. It was better for a long, long time. But now, the darkness and isolation of the catacombs have become almost too much to bear. She can feel her Soul call out for the touch of another.

🤍 Brave adventurer, what is it you seek? Her, perhaps unknowingly…? Why else could Nosramus feel you within the halls? Your footfalls echoing through her head, the brightness of your spirit felt pulsing in her own Soul. A feel of giddiness makes her entire body shake. She can't concentrate on her studies. She can't even hold a cup of tea steady without shaking. She sees flashes of you in her enlightened mind's eye. So desperate is Nosramus to see you in the flesh. Is this what it feels like to meet your one and only? A part of Sylvian's design perhaps. The anticipation and impending doom of meeting who you are meant to be one with. Nosramus can't help to distract herself much longer, nearly running from her laboratory as she feels you enter the mines.

💛 Don't be afraid. She can see you from the shadows. She will wait as long as you need to step into the light and see her. Nosramus tries to keep her smile from widening too greatly. She introduces herself. Tries to ignore the burning sensation in her very being. Extends a hand out to you and tells you the kettles on. Care for a cup of tea? She smiles even as you hesitate. Of course you're hesitant, poor thing. All alone in such a place without her. How did you ever survive? When your hand slips into hers, Nosramus is nearly set ablaze from the inside-out. Oh, yes, she thinks she'll keep you.

🤍 As a show of good faith, Nosramus offers you to partake in her potions and peruse her tomes. Not like you'll be leaving with them. The home she's made feels so much more alive with you inside it. Like you were always meant to be here. Your voice is music to her ears. She implores you - why are you here, where are you from, who have you left behind, what do you love, what do you despise, what are your dreams and wishes. She sprawls down notes when she gets a moment between preparing your tea. Just the beginning of her study of you. When she sets your cup in front of you, she makes a show of giving her own a hearty sip. And by the time you've realized what's happened, you can barely keep your head up. Poor dear. 

💛 You must understand. Or, you will understand, eventually. Nosramus has been burned before. She wants to trust you, but can't quite yet. But, it's okay, pet. She will take care of you while you learn how much your meant to be. She can hardly be near you without touching you - holding your hand, stroking the top of your head, pressing soft kisses across your face. When she must rip herself away from you, her guard will watch over you. One day, you'll be free to be lucid when kept in her quarters, but not yet. She must show you that your Souls are meant to be one. She cannot wait for the day that Sylvian blesses your union and you finally do become One.

[ryndicate]

Hypothermic ⨳ Todoroki Touya

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

warnings: fem body/pronouns, zombie apoc au (ofc), assault, enemies to not quite enemies, gun mentions, choking, quirkless au (no scars), blood mentions, dry humping, make out, starts out dubcon as in he doesnt ask first but she doesnt tell him to stop, and a semi ungodly pov switch but let’s run with it

event: @medusashima’s Rise of the Dead collab! Click the link for similiar lovely works!

notes: thank you for being so accommodating of me Dusa!! this came right from my soul. Love how its somehow a zombie au fic with no direct contact with zombies but like.... it works. and im over the moon about it (himmm)

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog Rules/DNI

The first thing Touya notices, besides the glaringly obvious there’s an intruder—is that somehow, you’re both pretty and don’t look like much. Pretty in a way that wiggles old thoughts into his brain, old from long gone time where’d hesitate to hurt a little thing like you. But there’s a more prominent, high prevailing relief that he’s confident he can, because he has to. Because of that stupid little ramen cup that you’re helping yourself to right now. Because there’s no way you’d have that right now now unless—unless…

The undead corpses on his front lawn had been his first clue to something being wrong. Shoto doesn’t leave the zombie fuckers to rot if he can help it, an annoyance Touya’s barked at plenty of times as a waste of time and energy, only for his words to be met with quiet disapproval. So to find four of the disgusting things still pouring putrid black and stenching up the frost on his front porch…well, it gave Touya reason to be cautious. Swallowing a burst of nostalgia, he quietly opens the kitchen window—the back door squeaks loud enough to wake the dead—and climbs through with perfect silence, a skill earned in a long forgotten world that had been nothing but a blessing in the world it had turned into. The slow movements it requires give his swirling panicking mind a moment to gauge all the what if's, but when he discovers that the person sitting in his house is not his little brother it's impossible not to come to a single grim conclusion. 

That’s how he was lucky enough to get the drop on you, sitting in front of the makeshift fireplace in his beaten up living room, slurping up that ramen cup like it’s the only thing you’ve eaten in days—and given how his last run went, it’s pretty fucking likely that's how it is. Touya had already been in a pretty foul mood on his return to the safehouse, leaving to find the one thing they’re always running out of. And for the first time, he had nothing to fucking show for it. Clouds on the horizon sent him trekking home empty-handed. Scavengers fearing the approaching cold probably cleared everything out before he could get a look in. Everything they had left to eat, which wasn't much, he’d left with Shoto—who'd promised him that stupid instant ramen on his return. Said he'd save it for last. And damn it all if he couldn’t trust everything that came from his brother’s mouth, even in a world like this. 

The seconds are dragging past in Touya's mind but he knows in real time you'll notice him any moment now. By luck or skill, you've survived this long, and that counts for something. He can't give you the benefit of the doubt. He’s got a gun, secured in the waist of his jeans, but it’s been out of bullets for ages now. It’s mainly been a deterrent for strangers, kept in vain hope that he finds more ammo one day. He’d use it now, if he wanted to scare you.

But he doesn’t. Touya’s past that now. His knife comes off his belt just as silently as he came through the window. Stepping quickly on the balls of his feet, Touya crosses the room towards you, and you react a mere breath before the blade finds a new home in your neck.

Your body twists, and his reach slashes too wide. Before he can redirect the arc you’ve got your hands braced on his arm, forcing it straight with a strength he couldn’t have expected from you. Touya snarls at the combination of anger and fear on your face. You have no right. 

“The fuck’re you doing?” you growl at him through grit teeth. There’s evident strain in your voice so Touya doubles down and your wince sends a blistering satisfaction tearing through his body. When your grip weakens, he lets the blade fall and tackles you to the carpet. 

You let out a muffled yell as your back hits the ground hard, and Touya is quick to plant himself over your center mass, hands bearing down on your throat. You buck and thrash, trying to dislodge his weight, movements limited as you try to block him from cutting off your air. Touya spits a curse down at you as your nails shred at his wrists and the back of his hands. It’s incredibly difficult to keep hold of you. You’re like a fucking animal, choking and wheezing and hissing and fucking growling at him as you fight him off. With ridiculous effort, you manage to shove one of his hands off and get leverage with your feet on the ground, using his own weight to send him in an ungainly tumble to the floor.

It’s startling how quickly you react after that, gasping for air and lunging for him, putting a fist in his gut. The force of it shoves air and spittle from his lungs and has him sucking in air desperately. He rolls away from you as you pounce at him again, your shoulder checking his chin and giving him the taste of blood in his mouth before he gets a solid shove at your chest, resulting in a moan of pain. There’s a brief pause as he staggers to his feet and he freezes as his eyes lock with the gun you now have pointed at him.

You seem to have frozen as well, joints locked and chest heaving.

After a long moment Touya scoffs. “What? You just gonna point the thing at m—”

The gun clicks; time shifts; Touya jerks. 

There’s no gunshot, and your eyes fly wide in obvious fear. Time slows down just enough for him to realize that he recognizes that gun, patting his waistband. His eyes narrow, and you react, whipping the gun right at him.

Touya dodges and you turn and sprint from the living room. He lunges after you, skidding nimbly into the hall as you make a run for it. He grabs at the back your jacket, howling a curse as you jerk out of his grip, the material making an audible ripping sound and snagging at one of his nails instead, forcing him to falter. Blood wells up out of the cuticle and drips down his hand; Touya grips it tightly, hissing through his teeth and tearing after you again, catching up with you right as you start slamming a door on him. He gets his weight against the door and there’s a mad struggle as you both become opposing forces, but there’s a moment where he loses traction, the blood from his finger making his hand slide.

The door slams shut and Touya slams his fist against the wood as fury overtakes him.

“Where’s my brother, you fucking bitch!” 

Fucker was carrying an empty gun!

You wildly look around the small space that you despairingly realize is a bathroom. The man is still pounding on the door, shouting, and shaking the handle. You have no idea what he’s talking about and you need a fix before he stops being pissed enough to figure out that a few solid kicks is all it would take to get through the flimsy wood. You rip down the grimy plastic shower curtain and twist it tightly around the handle, looping it through the towel bar above the sink, hosting a pair of decrepit floral washcloths that look like they haven’t been used since patient zero. You continue weaving the figure eight until you’re forced to tie it off as you run out of length. It’s not much, but it’ll buy you an extra minute or two if you’re lucky. 

The handle creaks with one last aggravated twist. There’s a short silence that follows as you stare at the door, heart beating out of your chest. Then his voice filters through the door, a throaty rasp full of a rage that makes you quake with adrenaline and fear.

“Ain’t nowhere for you to go, lady. Get the fuck out here and maybe I won’t kill ‘ya.”

This not what you’d bargained for. “Like I’m gonna trust the guy who tried to stab me without so much as a hello.”

He chuckles, a soft sound that you’d find pretty if it weren’t for the way your skin breaks out in goosebumps that have nothing to do with the cold. “You want a hello? Come get one.”

Ignoring him—and the way your body tremors—you turn and start trying to peel away the board covering what must be a small window. If you’re lucky enough to get it off, maybe you can drop out through the window. 

But after a solid half hour of tugging, scraping and peeling, and nothing more to show for it than torn and bloody fingernails, you admit defeat. Wincing, you carefully wipe away the blood on your jeans and listen to see if he’s still outside the door. It’s hard to tell anything over your thumping pulse in your own ears, but it sounds quiet. 

It’s better not to risk it. You settle against the back of the tub and sit; if you wait long enough, he’ll pass out and you can slip out quietly. Moving quietly and disappearing is the only thing that’s kept you alive this far, especially after the last group you left. The last thing you want to do is be out at night, between the cold and poor visibility—that’s just asking to get killed. But no part of you can deny that facing that deranged stranger outside this door would be doing more than just asking. 

Time passes slowly, painfully. Ever since the turn, dozing off idly became a thing of the past, something dangerous. You’re stuck being alert and aware of every little creak, every little sigh this house can produce. The wind tears around outside and your fingertips have become numb. It’s gotten much colder tonight that it has in the past few days, and you dig your arms from your sleeves into the body of your clothing in an attempt to keep warm.

A light tapping puts you on edge before you realize you’re shaking so hard that the buttons on your jacket are clacking against the floor. You clench your jaw. You have to try now; if you wait any longer it’ll be too cold to make it down the street, let alone how far you’ll need to get away from this place to feel comfortable ever again. Your joints protest as you stand as silently as you can, after sitting for so long. It’s much more painstaking to get the shower curtain from the door; it’s like trying to tiptoe with a windbreaker, but eventually you manage and crack the door open. 

The house is dark, but even after a few moments no one shoves the door open, so pull it wider and peek out. There’s no sign of him. You step quietly out and feel your way down the wall, back towards the living room. There’s no chance you’ll get your pack back, not much in it besides clothes and water anyways, but you’ll have to make do. You inch into the kitchen where you remember seeing a backdoor, and gently turn the lock before pulling the door open. The hinges squeak so painfully loud that you suck in a breath, heart thudding in panic, but that’s not what has you frozen, shivering in the doorway.

What you heard from the bathroom floor wasn’t just wind, but a full blown snowstorm. It’s too early for snow, at least you’d thought, but here it is swirling so thick that you can’t see more than a couple of feet into the yard, and there’s already about a foot of snow. The moon highlights your breath getting swept away in the wind.

“Still thinkin’ about running?”

You shut the door and warily face him, not deigning to answer. The chances of making it more than a couple of blocks without freezing to death are slim. You can’t see much but his silhouette and a mess of pale hair, so it’s hard to make out what he’s thinking. All you know is that he hasn’t wrapped his hands around your neck yet.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t go pointing a gun at me again, and I won’t kill you tonight.”

“Try not to stab me then.”

You think he’s smiling. “No promises.” 

Another shudder wracks through you and you try to tighten your jacket around your body. There’s a tear somewhere near the underarm seam—another reason why running is a terrible option.

“C’mon. It won’t last the night, but I’ve got a small fire going.” He turns his back on you, and you have no choice but to follow him. “Name’s Touya, by the way.”

The “fire” Touya’s got up is nothing but a few table legs crumbling into ember, but you have to admit it’s much warmer in here than it was in the bathroom. The soft light gives you your best look at him yet, and you notice he’s far more handsome than he should be. Hair a bright white, his skin is fair beneath the light grime, and he has piercing green, maybe blue eyes—it’s hard to tell in the flickering orange glow. 

He glances at your raised eyebrow and scoffs. “Look, it’s all I had left. Shoto was supposed to be gathering wood while I was gone.”

You sit slowly a small distance away from him, as close to the fire as you can get. He tosses you a ratty blanket that had been hanging off the back of the couch. “Is Shoto your brother?”

He looks at you and scowls. “Yeah he is, and the only reason I haven’t come after you again is because I have no leads if you’re dead. I need you, if I’m gonna find out what happened to him.”

“Is that why you attacked me?” you ask him quietly. He’s throwing a couple of torn book covers into the embers, light flickering brighter as they catch and blaze. “You think I—”

“An eye for an eye,” Touya chuckles, his expression hardening into something devoid, something frightening. 

“I didn’t kill your brother.” You tell him softly, wondering how you’re supposed to convince him when he’s already convinced himself. You have no idea who he is. He simply stares at you.

“Right.”

“Look when I got here, there were a bunch of zoms in the yard. I barely got past them, my knife broke in one of their heads. I figured the place was empty and needed somewhere to hole up. I never saw your brother, I swear.” Touya’s expression is still hard, but his eyes have begun to flicker with doubt. “Bet you went through my bag already. You know I don’t have any weapons. I’ve got no reason to lie.”

“Other than to save your own neck.”

“Isn’t that what we’re all trying to do?” You glare at him. “Look, if he was here, I would’ve asked him to let me in. I’ve never… I’ve never killed someone like that before.”

“Like what?” He looks at you now, eyebrows slackening at the tremble in your voice. “You were all too willing to pull the trigger on me.”

“Self-defense is different.” You look away, curling your legs to your chest. “I’ve never…murdered someone. I’ve seen it happen before, but I can’t. That’s why I’m so good at running.”

Touya stills, seemingly taking in your words, sifting through them like one would examine sand through a looking a glass. Finally, he sighs.  

“He’s not dead.” You glance at him; that didn’t really seem like he was talking to you, so you let it rest in the air like that. His eyes shine in the dying fire before they flicker and pin themselves to you.

“So that’s why’re you alone, then? Couldn’t kill someone?”

Your lips twist into a frown, and you look away from him, resting your chin on your knees. Your mind is a swirl of blazing violet eyes, crimson full of rage, viridian vexed of indecision. “My last group was falling apart. Left before things got ugly, been on my own since.”

“How long ago was that?” Touya asks quietly.

You peek at him warily. “Long enough.”

He nods at you at that, grunting as he lays down and gets comfortable. You take that as his signal that conversation is over and follow suit, inching closer to the tiny flames that you vainly pray will last the night.

The night passes but sleep does not come for you, held at bay by memories that you wish would fade as quickly as the fire seems to, a deep cold settling over you as the embers turn to smoke. You pull the blanket tighter around you, now scared to sleep in case you don’t wake up.

“Well fuck,” Touya sighs, sitting up and leaning on his palms. You can hear his teeth chattering. With the fire gone you can’t see his face, there’s no lighting coming through the covered windows either. “Daylight’s still a few hours off. That sucks, ain’t nothing for it.”

“What?”

He rolls into your space and you try to scramble away from him, only for him to yank you to his chest and curl and arm around your back.

“You’re fucking insane.”

“No, I’m fucking freezing, and not interested in dying. You interested in dying? Or I don’t know, losing a few fingers and toes?”

You glare into his chest, clenching your jaw to keep your teeth from echoing his own chattering.

“That’s what I thought.”

After your racing heart settles, you hate to admit that it’s the only way. Wrapped up in his arms, tugged tight to his chest like this…it’s still cold, but an endurable kind of cold, the kind that has you worming your way closer to him to make it less uncomfortable. 

“Don’t,” you warn him as you feel his cheek stretch into a grin against your temple.

“Alright, alright. Fine. Could make this nicer, you know. Just sayin’.”

Suspicion blooms in your chest at his cheeky attempt at charm. “What are you talking about?”

A growl tears up your throat as he rolls you onto your back, ready to shove him off but you tense in shock as he leans down and closes his lips on the spot right beneath your ear. You exhale sharply on instinct. You haven’t been touched like this since—you slam your mind closed on those thoughts and try to think through his tongue tracing over your pulse point.

“Wh– what are you doing?”

“‘M gonna make you warm,” he whispers, nosing up and nipping lightly at the shell of your ear.

“Holy fuck, you are crazy. I’m not sleeping with you,” you hiss sharply, trying to wiggle away from him.

Touya tosses his head back in a wry laugh. “Sweetheart, if you think I’m dropping my pants in a blizzard, you’re crazier than me.”

“Then, then wh—”

“Shut up and stop thinking for a minute, won’tcha?” Touya grumbles and lowers himself back towards you, capturing your lips and working your mouth open with a little rumble of approval when you relax back to the floor. One hand comes up to hold your cheek, fingers cradled around the back of your head and the way he groans into your mouth sends a heatwave of embarrassment and arousal crackling across your body.

He paws at your covered chest, something warm and hard digging into your thigh as he grinds against you, and you resist the insane urge to wrap your legs around his waist.

Like he’s reading your mind, long fingers dig into one of your thighs and hike it up, and you gasp into his mouth as he shifts and suddenly his clothed dick is pressed hard against your core.

“Oh, you ain’t so hard are you?” Touya chuckles as you bite his lower lip in retaliation. You can almost imagine his eyes flashing at you as he begins to grind against you in slow, controlled motions. Your clit throbs underneath the rub of denim, and you can feel yourself slowly soaking through the material of your panties. “Still fiesty though. ‘S nice.”

“Fuck you.”

Touya groans, fingers digging into your hips as if trying to pull you up into him. “Don’t make me think about that, darlin’”

“Not your darling.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep reminding me darlin’.”

He moans low and sweet into into your neck, suckling softly in one spot and continually moving to the next. It’s maddening and you keep shifting and rocking your body into to his, feeling pleasure unfurl in you so hot and deep, clit pulsing and sensitive, sparking until you’re sure it’s going to take you apart.

Touya stiffens, hips jumping before he grits his teeth and collapses gently over your chest, fists curled tight on either side of your head. The swirling ball of pleasure that had been moments from reach boils and begins to fade, leaving you gasping in frustration.

“Seriously, you’re stopping now?” you whine, squirming when he holds you in place. 

“‘M not interest in finding out how fast my pants would freeze to my dick with spunk all twisted up in there,” he snarls under his breath, biting back the urge to keep rutting against your body. “Believe me, sweetheart. Blueballing myself is not the end goal here. Fuck. You’re warm now, yeah?”

You’re struggling to get your heavy breaths under control, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. You’re warm all over, but you don’t know how long that’s gonna last. 

Touya grabs the ends of the blankets and makes sure they’re tucked around you both, shifting so that he’s no longer on top of you, but on his side next to you. “Then fucking sleep, okay? I know you haven’t yet. We’ll figure it out later. Deal?”

You snort. By figure it out, you wonder if he’s talking about the thing still twitching against your hip, or the whole mess of a situation. But either way, you’re heeding him. As the rush slowly drifts from your system, exhaustion takes over and you find yourself dead asleep, tucked under his arm. 

[aceofwhump]

Hi everyone! Welcome to my blog!

I decided to make a new pinned post with all the information that is available on my desktop site but that will be more accessible for mobile users. Plus a few extras 😉

So an introduction.

I'm Ace. I started this blog back in February 2018 after seeing a post that referenced the whump community. I had no idea there was such a large community here on tumblr! As soon as I saw that making a whump blog was an option I immediately made one. And I haven't regretted it since. I love this blog, I love this community, and I'm thrilled to be here three years later! 

Here on this blog you'll see lots of gifsets both reblogged from wonderful creators and gifs made by yours truly. I also write fanfics on occasion. You can check out my work on AO3 under the name "aceofwhump" or you can look under my tag "ace writes stuff". That tag will have some stuff not on AO3 too. I also do whump lists for certain characters, trope lists, video clips of good whump, and fanfic recs.

Click on the read more for even more information and important links to things like gifmaking tutorials, my trope tag list, my show/movie tag list, my fanfic masterlist, and more!!!

My favorite tropes are:

Emotional: panic attacks, nightmares, insecurities, feeling inadequate, fear, grief, flashbacks, flinching, emotional breakdowns full of sobbing, emotional outbursts, scar reveals, anxiety, self hatred

Environmental: accidents, natural disasters like earthquakes or storms, hit by a car, collapsed building, falling through ice, heat exhaustion, hypothermia, falls, burns, infected wounds from lack of medical equipment, sickness, being unable to breathe, drowning

Small moments: limping, feeling weak and seeking support, breathing through the pain, moving wrong in a way that aggravates the pain, and the sudden seizing of his body, shaking hands, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple because of a headache, taking a moment to close his eyes because he’s light headed/exhausted/has such a bad headache

Sci-fi: space illness, oxygen deprivation, isolation, being locked in the brig, hull of the ship getting damaged, alien attacks

Injuries: broken bones, gunshot wounds, hidden injuries, bruises, beaten, concussions, collapsed lung, slings, casts, crutches, knocked unconscious, blood loss

Torture/Captivity: Being strung up by their wrists from the ceiling, drugged, chained up, caged, tied to a chair, handcuffed to a pole, interrogated

Comfort/Caretaking: hugging, “Are you okay?”, “You’re safe now”, “I’ve got you”, hand holding, helping to walk, ice packs, covering someone with a blanket, a cool cloth on their forehead to help with a fever, a fever check, touching their face to offer comfort

Magic: magical healing that causes pain, draining of powers, powers that are painful to use, curses

Stoic or defiant whumpees

Team whump

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Long detailed look at how I make my gifs

Gifmaking tutorials:

Gifmaking for Begginers: my ginormous all you need to know tutorial

Another look at how I make a gif

Tips for beginners

Tips on brightening dark scenes

How to get into gifmaking

Photoset dimensions

How to make a layout gifset

Gif speeds

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Links from my desktop blog for mobile users:

My gifs

My whump videos

Ace writes stuff

My Writing Masterlist

Trope tag list

Show list

My Whumptober Masterlists

Fanfic Rec Lists

Blog Archive

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Introducing…

ACEOFWHUMP’S FANFIC MASTERLIST!!

This has been a massive, ongoing project of mine for a while now in which I am endeavoring to catalog and categorize every fanfiction I’ve ever bookmarked. I fear this project will never be complete as I'm always reading and bookmarking new fics but I’m going to share it anyway.

Inside, you will find links and summaries to the fanfictions I’ve read over the years on both AO3 and FF.net. Each fic is sorted by the specific whumpee that they center on. So there’s a page for Danny Williams, for Mike Warren, for Lucifer Morningstar, and many many more. The fics are 90% whump with a touch of fluffy ones thrown in too. This list is based on the fics I’ve read and bookmarked so it leans heavily on my favorite whumpees and my favorite tropes. 

I’ve been working on categorizing every fic by its tropes (so theoretically you could search for say seizure fics or sick fics) but that’s taking me a loooong time because I have to reread every fic in order to determine what kind of categories to make and to look for the specific tropes. So for now you’ll have to make do with the fic summaries and using the search function. When it’s done, each whumpee will have their specific trope categories so you won’t necessarily find the same tropes in each category but it should help narrow down the fics better once I’m done. This is an ongoing project for me.

The list gets updated all the time so check back in every now and then. There might be something new.

I do take suggestions of fics to add to this masterlist but please keep in mind that it may not end up on the list. It's nothing personal I promise. I just can't add every single fic in the world.

Here's the link (note that it opens best on desktop browser because it is large):

[thisdreamplace]

i get confused when people say you shouldn’t mix loass and non dualism because i feel like loass cannot be operated as a conscious and consistent practice without nd? why are people acting like it’s blasphemy to recognize how nd facilitates loass? is it that people are understanding loass as ego-based? nd ≠ loass, but to me loass IS nd actioned into a creative practice? help 😫

youre so real for this anon <3

i say, this is why we have to be able to think for ourselves and not just listen to everything people say online. lol bc... youre like... not wrong (and i know a lot of people aint gonna like me for saying that lmfao)

but i remember when nd started to gain popularity and how some accs were SWEARRRRINNNG it has nothing to do w loa and how dare anyone confuse the two. and im just sitting there reading like o___O but theyre literally interwined. and i get why people would want to totally seperate the two, bc no one ever says it, but i think loa scarred/traumatized a lot of us.

its like when everyone first switched from loattraction to loassumption and were like ewww theyre not the same thing dont get them confused !! but it was bc 90% of people at the time had been failed by loattraction and felt like loass was the solution they had been looking for lol and yet, they are the same in ending, different in practice. teaching the same point, in different ways. two different paths with the same destination. nd is like this.

nondualism skips to what the point of loass is, which a lot of people dont see bc they associate loass with manifesting ur desires and that is the ~mainstream~ idea of it. but it is a popular misunderstanding. anyone who has mastered loass has simultaneously succeeded in what nd teaches. with an actual understanding of what loass is, it was never about getting ur desires. it was always about reaching "the promise"... however, people tend to focus much more on the manifesting part, which isnt a problem in loass. its a problem in the people who decided to teach loass. but that was kinda the point. if it werent for knowing about being able to get ur desires, a lot of people wouldnt have listened. but it brought us here, and nd gets to focus on the actual point. the promise. the thing is that manifesting desires has been grossly focused on, and skews the point of loass. lol

the thing is, nd focuses on the end "goal" entirely, so they seem to be different to people who have a mainstream understanding of loass. and there's also semantics, which is entirely fair. for some people, the way loass is explained doesnt click but nd does. and thats why it can make sense to group it seperately, bc they are taught differently. however, once again, you have two different routes leading to the same destination. its not that complicated, but for some reason ppl like to complicate it by calling it a whole new thing. theyre all so delicately intertwined though, and i think thats great. bc we're all different people and we will respond and understand things differently.

so many different roads, simply to lead us back to who we truly are, to wake up from this dream and experience the true self.

so yeah, youre right. and this is why you should learn to trust yourself. :)

"this place is a dream, only a sleeper considers it real. then death comes like dawn, and you wake up laughing at what you thought was your grief." -- rumi

felt like it was relevant to place that here, as that is the exact quote that inspired the name of my blog so many years ago. and rumi is no loass guru, nor nd teacher. and yet, and yet. it just goes to show how interconnected this all is, because of the fact that it all comes from the same source conciousness. <3

xo 🕊🫧

[evilrat-sabre]

Welsknight Season 7, EP 3 and 4 a Rat's report

So I guess I am doing this, I am watching the entirety of Wels Hermitcraft Season 7 series and doing a actual written report on it.

First / Next

Deep Storage Warehouse | Hermitcraft 7 - Ep. 3

27:41 lenght, posted 29 may 2020, watched 30/01/2023 and 31/01/2023

He clicks record button and it starts raining. He complains that this is "Just his luck" and I agree, this sums his lucky very well. (Personal note: I had a brief flashback to Doc in season eight talking about the fact of how hard is to see rain in Hermitcraft, and I find it amusing that Wels is one of the culprits, as one of the local sleeping maniacs.)

He is tiding up his river "Basically you are trying to avoid the appearance that you just spammed bonemeal, even though you just spammed bonemeal everywhere" (Time stamp 3:50)

"So I don't think there is a rule against two timelapses in a single episode, lets do it!" Stares in House Flipper series at this 3 year old video.

Personal note: I was building a puzzle with friends while watching it and I zoned out a bit, when I zoned back he was so amused talking about his own building that it just put a big ol' smile in my face.

Fwhip mentioned! He built one of Fwhip's boat designs and gave credit, he started talking about Fwip and how he likes his videos and how he watches it! Idk it just made me soft seeing he talking about Fwhip, knowing that in like 2 years? The man would be steeping in Hermitcraft ground, its a shame Wels wasn't active and didn't got to interact with the Empire people.

"My knight time senses are tingling" *proceeds to spam clicks a bed

"My sleep sense are tingling again" *proceeds to spam clicks a bed (I guess this is his superpower now)

He needs to make a shop

-Wels: No one sell leather and I need a good source of food -Me: Nodding in redstoner "Okay so he will make a hoogling farm, sounds fun" -Wels: I need some cow -Me: Excuseme what? -Me: Stops and thinks for the exact amount of 3 seconds, oh yeah the nether was still bad.

He will vote for Joe as dog catcher! Good to know!

He bought the Hermit Heralds!!! The only thing I managed to read was "Unsanitary Scar"

Wels is talking about cow, stops mid phrase "Problem must sleep" Sir just admit you have a problem.

Wels is doing a cow pen (This is where I suffered from multiple organs failure) "Ha you are mine, forever forever, forced to live a life of breeding" SIR (pERSONAL notes: Yes I am one of the mods in correct Hermitcraft quotes, and yes I have posted worst things there (It was Keralis and xB), and NO, I will not post this in the blog, for the sake that my little rat hearth will NOT survive receiving this quote as a notification.)

FULL House Interior! | Hermitcraft 7 - Ep. 4

25:12 length, posted 5 june 2020, watched 01/02/24

This is a interior decor episode, this Brazilian redstoner Rat will do some comments about Wels decor, be prepared.

Decor talk: I love what he is doing with the ceiling, I could never though about that, I would have let it as it was and sulked.

"If I decided to put a basement in this house, this would be the ideal place to put it, and if not, this can be storage, closet, stairs, you know; Harry Potter could live in there or something" (Time stamp 7:30)

Decor talk: Ok that bedroom is gorgeous, the bed isn't functional, but at least he can sleep in the bench (that is actually a bed)

I will describe the next sequence of actions because it's funny

Goes to the shopping district to buy skulkers

Sees the free samples barrel

clicks on it

Zombies appears out of nowhere

It's a trap.

False for mayor trap!

She kills the mobs and walks away looking honestly cool

It actually worked! Wels retreat his concrete vote for Stress

He realizes that got distracted and goes and buys the shulkers

No free samples for Wels

The great entrance hall is attached to the wrong door, the main entrance door is connected to the kitchen "Planning 10/10" At least it's pretty?

Decor talk: He keeps making benches, he doesn't have a functional bed, but he has a lot of benches.

One of his goals for season 7 was to get better at doing interior!

Decor talk: He is doing great, all he builds is so good omg. For all that I joke about his house flipper, this man knows how to decorate and I really appreciate his buildings.

Beef tunes! He is buying a piano!

So I will cut a bit here, to say that Wels did a honestly moving speech about things that were happening at the time in the world, and I feel like are relevant to today 3 years latter.

I urge everyone to go watch it, because it's truly powerful and it was a good reminder of why he is one of my favorite youtubers.

Its starts roughly at 16:53 and ends at 20:06

I will now transcript part of it here, but I can't stress enough, go watch the whole thing, it got me really by surprise.

"However I will say this, I don't give a damn, and I use that word deliberately, because this is important enough to warrant it.

I don't give a damn about the color of your skin, who you love, your religious beliefs, what political party you belong to, or other description that people may use to categorize you, good people are always welcome in my community, and all it takes to be a good person in my book is to follow the golden rule of treat other as you wish to be treated."

The speech is way longer, and I got really really touched, I am still looking at it and reflecting.

Anyway back to normal now.

Some time and world observation:

In the Hermit Heralds it was written "Get gorgeous" I am curious how much it cost Stress to put this there

Shopping district remains a ugly mess

I did this at 2 am, good night.

[thefallennightmare]

The Coyotes Cry-One

*gif made by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian x OFC.

Warnings/Tropes: Warnings/Tropes: reverse harem/why chose in most parts of this story, violence, death, swearing, angst, fluff, forced proximity, forbidden love, dark romance, mafia themes, arranged marriage, tattoo artist, smut(very mature: P in V unprotected, masturbation, oral with male and female receiving, dry humping, knife play, blood play, period sex, Dom! Noah, mask play, choking, degradation, fingering, hand jobs, voyeurism, public sex, reverse harem which means one woman with multiple partners, sometimes together.)

Summary: Saoirse "Scar" McManus's life is turned upside down when her father and uncle marry her off to Noah Sebastian, the Ruler of The Concrete Jungle and Leader of OMNS, her old high school crush. A marriage based on secrets and lies comes back to destroy OMNS and The Concrete Jungle from within. When Scar has no choice but to step foot into The Grey looking for help, she realizes the price of love comes in a nest full of darkness.

Authors Note: Here is chapter one! I don't think this series will be more than six parts but you never know with how often I'm always adding things. This series will have mature themes throughout as a warning.

*I do not own the rights/names of Connor and Murphy McManus. Or anyone mentioned to the Boondock Saints.

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NOAH

The screams were muted due to the concrete confines of the room, the cold, moist air circulating us in a suffocating grip. But none of that mattered, the only thing that did was strapped to the chair in front of me. Cleaning the sharp blade on the once-white handkerchief, I clicked my tongue at the raw screams. 

“Scream all you want. No one can hear you all the way down here,” I said while pointing to the concrete walls. “I mixed the concrete myself with a special formula. Think of it as soundproof.” 

The man spat blood at my feet, nearly missing my black boots. “Fuck you!” 

A chuckle to the left of me and I glanced over to one of my right-hand men, Joakim. Although, we in OMNS always called him Jolly. 

“I applaud the fire in you,” Jolly nodded at the man. “You’ll need it.” 

Twirling the knife between my fingers, I yet again asked the same question that I asked three times previously. 

“Who killed Vincent?” 

“I already told you fuckers, I don’t know!” The man, Barry, choked out on a mouth full of blood. “You’re asking the wrong guy!” 

As Barry fought against the bindings, the chair scraping against the ground at our feet, I hummed in mock disappointment. “No, Barry. I don't think we are. My intel tells me that someone in the Irish Mafia killed a dear friend of mine.” 

“I hate to tell you, your intel is wrong,” Barry said with a dry chuckle. 

Suddenly his screams of agony sounded like music to my ears as I dug the knife deep into his thigh directly above the previous wound that Jolly had given him with the screwdriver. My hair fell into my eyes and I hastily brushed it back with my large hand, blood smearing in the dark strands. I’d been due for a haircut for the last few weeks but haven’t found anyone able to give me the correct Levi cut since my older barber passed away. 

“My intel is never wrong,” I gritted out through clenched teeth while twisting the knife deeper.

Barry was a blubbering mess, dark tendrils of his hair covered the agony on his face so with a sharp nod from me, Jolly stood behind Barry and ripped his head back so I could watch in pleasure. 

“Now, I’m only going to ask one more time,” I twisted the knife deeper. “Who killed Vincent?” 

He did his best to writhe away but with my knife piercing him in place and Jolly’s tight grip on his hair, there was nowhere for Barry to run. Blood dripped from his mouth, his nose, and the cut on his eyebrow. Before we captured him, he had the looks of a movie star but now, I couldn't help but cringe. 

“I already told you,” he sobbed, a mess of blood and snot. “I swear.”

Jolly and I shared a look for a brief moment before we pushed away from Barry to slink over to the far end of the room to have a conversation. 

“Do you believe him?” Jolly tied up his hair into a messy bun. 

I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. “I don’t think he knows who killed Vincent but he knows the right direction we need to look. We need to crank it up a notch and show him that OMNS isn't going to back down from this.” 

Instantly, he understood and while he retreated up the stairs to my office, I titled my head at Barry. 

“What family do you work for?” I asked. 

His breathing was shallow and unsteady thanks to the hard blows of Jolly’s fists to his ribs but I had to marvel at this kid's drive to remain loyal. 

“The Walsh’s,” he eventually answered. 

My brows furrowed in confusion. “The Walsh’s haven’t been around since they moved their operations back to Boston. Why are you still here running the streets for them?” 

Barry lifted his heavy head and wore a smug smile. “Call me committed.” 

“No, I don't think that’s it,” I shook my head and took two large steps towards him, him shrinking back into himself. “I think it’s the fact that you’re lying to me and I fucking hate liars.” 

“Fucking shit!” 

He cursed when I ripped out the knife from his thigh to press the blade against his neck. 

“You’re insane,” Barry shuddered when he noticed the playful gleam in my eyes. 

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But I also don’t like liars. Now, I’ll ask again. What family do you work for?” 

“It’s a new family on the rise called O’shove it up your ass,” he spat in my face. 

Literally. 

His saliva and blood dripped down my cheek but I didn’t even flinch and made no effort to wipe it away. Instead, I broke out into a wide smile when I heard Jolly returning with something special in tow; something that made Barry’s eyes widen in fear. 

“Wh-what the fu-fuck, man?! Do you just have that lying around?” He stuttered. 

Glancing over my shoulder, I extended my hand to Jolly who in turn placed the handle of the katana in my palm. Standing straight now, I studied the old sword with careful precision. 

“This used to be my great-great-great grandfathers; passed down through each generation. It might be old but I have the blade sharpened every once in a while, just in case,” I said while slowly removing the blade from the sheath. 

The dim light overhead cast its faded yellow glow on the sharp blade and something inside of me twinged with sheer delight. 

“Ju-ju-st in case fo-for what?” 

Jolly snorted at the stuttering mess of Barry while leaning against the concrete wall. 

“Tell us what we want to know and you won’t have to find out.” 

The sharp tip of the katana pressed lightly against Barry’s jugular, all it would take would be one flick of my wrist to end it all however I refrained, not wanting to end the fun before I got what I needed. 

“What family do you work for?” I asked again, this time with less patience than the last time. 

Barry’s eyes glanced down from the long blade at his throat to Jolly then finally up to me as I towered over him. His bottom lip wavered as he finally nodded. 

“Okay, okay. Promise you won’t kill me?” 

He tried to wager but to humor him, I gave a curt nod. “Tell me what I want to know and I’ll think about it.”

“Fuck,” Barry sobbed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m good as dead anyway. The McManus family don’t like rats and a low-level drug dealer like me isn’t worth saving.” 

My grip on my katana slipped slightly at the name but I was quick to recover. “The McManus?” 

He nodded widely. “ Yea. I work for the brothers; Connor and Murphy. I deal their drugs and run their errands.”

“So you’re their bitch?” Jolly asked. 

Barry’s shoulders fell. “Essentially, yes.” 

“Did the McManus brothers kill Vincent?” I asked while tightening my grip on the handle of the katana. 

“No,” he shook his head, the blood from the wound above his eye now pooling into his eyes. “But they might know who did it. I can try and set up a meeting with them, on your behalf. Maybe they can lead you in the direction you’re looking for?” 

Jolly gave me a look and I held up a finger, not quite finished with my conversation with Barry. 

“Why the fuck would they listen to you if you’re just their bitch?” 

This brought a wicked smile to his face as he used his shoulder to wipe away the blood from his chin. 

“Because Murphy McManus doesn't like it when his daughter is threatened.” 

A loud rumble erupted in my chest, like a ravenous growl, as I dug the blade of the katana deeper into Barry’s neck, blood now oozing from the fresh wound. I ignored his wails of pain, now only seeing red. 

“You’ve got some balls kid to threaten the daughter of one of the most feared Irish Mafia families,” I said. 

Barry shrugged in his binds. “I didn’t say it would be coming from me. Word on the street is that McManus' grandfather had issues with your grandfather some odd years ago. They’d believe me if I said the great Noah Sebastian was looking to start a turf war.” 

With a scowl, I snapped my head at Jolly. “Get this piece of shit his phone so he can make the call.” 

Never once faltering the blade from Barry’s neck, I watched with narrowed eyes as Jolly removed one of the binds around his wrist and tossed the phone on his lap. 

“Make the meeting. If I hear one threat on the daughter, I’ll end your life before you even hang up the phone,” I seethed behind the mask of my hair as it fell into my eyes. 

My heart beat like a thunderstorm in my chest at the thought of the McManus daughter. No one knew of her and what she meant to not only the family but me as well; besides my closest allies. 

Barry’s fingers worked fast to type out a message before showing me the screen and with my free hand, I snatched it from him to read it. 

Barry: The brother's food will be delivered at six p.m. tonight. 

Unknown: What’s on the menu? 

Barry: Japanese with a side of Swiss.

“Joakim is Swedish,” I corrected Barry. “I’m assuming this whole dinner rous is to keep the authorities off your back if they go snooping?” 

“Look at you! I think you earned yourself a gold star,” Barry joked. 

Jolly’s fist collided with his face, his neck snapping to the side, and the faint red mark from his ring began to rise on Barry’s cheek. 

“Let me guess, he’s the muscle between the two of you?” Barry spat out a chunk of blood. 

Not bothering to look away from his phone as a new message came in, I answered his question. 

“No, that’s Ash. Trust me, you don’t want to meet him.” 

Unknown: Dinner will be served in the study.  6 o’clock. 

“It’s set,” I tossed the phone to Jolly who dropped it to the ground seconds before his boot came crashing down on it. 

“What the fuck! You guys owe me a new phone!” 

Placing the sheath back over the katana, I set it on the table along with the other wide variety of weapons and turned back to Barry with my hands crossed behind my back; grasping the weapon tightly. He glanced between Jolly and me and noticed the sinister gleam dancing behind my honey eyes. 

“Hang on,” he began thrashing in the chair, free hand swinging widely. “You said I could live.” 

“I did. But watch what you say next.” 

Quickly, Jolly grabbed Barry’s free arm to drag his still-bound body over to the table behind me and held his wrist down. His hand was on display for my wicked plan. 

“Barry, I have a question for you. If you answer wrong, well-,” I pulled out the hammer from behind my back and shook it in front of him. 

His eyes widened in fear but I paid no mind to it, simply asked my question. 

“Will Murphy’s daughter be there tonight?” 

“Fuck no! Dumb broad never leaves her bedroom,” Barry answered. “She’s holed up in there all hours of the day. The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” 

Jolly sucked in a breath just as I raised the hammer, bringing it down on Barry’s pinky, whose cries were overshadowed by the noise of his bones breaking.

“Why are you so obsessed with this broad?!” 

I brought the hammer down again, this time breaking his ring and pointer finger. Now he was practically having an exorcism with how he was moving about on the chair, struggling to break free from the binds. 

“One more question then I’m finished with this game,” I said while craning my neck to the side before getting eye level with the man. “Do you suspect the McManus family killed Vincent?” 

While he stayed silent, the look that flashed over his hazel eyes told me everything I needed to know. Turning on my heels, I dropped the hammer on the table and began walking upstairs to leave Jolly to clean up until Barry’s voice halted me in my tracks. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the broad pulled the trigger herself. She’ll do whatever she can to get Daddy’s attention since she was never the favorite..” 

My shoulders went rigid and I could faintly hear Jolly mutter under his breath something in Swedish before I grabbed the gun from behind my back that had been tucked in the waist paint of my black slacks and fired two rounds straight into Barry’s chest. 

“Noah,” Jolly started. 

I waved him off before dropping the gun on the table. “Let’s be real, Jolly. We weren’t letting him walk out of here alive anyway. 

“McManus,” he sighed while rubbing his jaw. “Why does that name sound familiar?” 

I cleaned the blood from my fingers and rings before letting out a long breath. I knew he wouldn’t remember the name but that name haunted me for years, plagued my entire existence in more ways than one. 

“They’re one of the most notorious Irish Mafia families. Their lineage started in Ireland generations ago before relocating to Boston where the McManus brothers were raised by their grandfather, Fergal. They moved to Los Angeles when the brothers were in their mid-twenties.” 

“Wait,” Jolly’s head snapped over towards me. “The twins that went on that killing spree all those years ago in Boston. The last anyone heard from them is when they shot Yakavetta in open court.” 

“Exactly why they moved here. Fergal didn't appreciate the hot trail on them so they hid out here for a few years. But Fergal couldn’t handle laying low for long because he began building the ranks here. Overstepping on my grandfather's turf, because he was still young at the time.” I grabbed the weapons we used on Barry and tossed them into the bucket of bleach in the utility sink. 

“You know a lot about this family,” Jolly noted. 

I hummed. “My grandfather told me all about them growing up. He wanted to make sure I was well versed in the McManus family once I took over.” 

Glancing down at myself, I hummed again in displeasure when I noticed the blood spatter all over my white turtleneck.

Should have worn the black one, idiot.

I went about cleaning up the mess, ignoring the slumped-over body in the chair for a moment. 

“The daughter. Do you think she did it?” Jolly wondered. 

I halted unraveling the plastic we used to wrap the dead bodies for a few seconds before letting my shoulders drop slightly. “I don’t believe so. While the McManus brothers do hire hitmen to do their dirty work, there’s no way Murphy would make his own blood do it.”

“I know there’s some sort of history between you and her. With all of us-” 

His words trailed off when I snapped my eyes over to him. “There is no history, Jolly. She’s just someone who went to high school with us. That was years ago and I doubt she even remembers that we went to the same school. She was too busy being preoccupied with other things.” 

All of us in OMNS grew up together since we were twelve years old, Jolly moved here from Sweden when he was ten. We’d all been inseparable for the last sixteen years in the schoolyard and now the streets of the Concrete Jungle. 

Not saying another word, the two of us busied ourselves cleaning up our mess and by the time we returned upstairs to my office. The staircase to the hidden basement was located behind a bookshelf and while Jolly closed it, I rummaged through the drawers of my desk to find a different shirt. 

Now dressed in a fresh black t-shirt, we stepped out of my office and the sounds of tattoo machines reached my ears and I smirked walking into the open lobby. Every one of my artists had someone in their chairs and my most sought-after artist, Nicholas, glanced up at me for a second before returning to tattooing his client. 

“How’d the meeting go?” He asked. 

“Didn’t work out. We have another one set for 6 tonight,” Jolly informed. 

I went up to the counter of my tattoo shop and glanced down at the book. It was a full day of appointments not to mention the group of girls that came in for a walk in. They were chittering like birds about how it was the blonde's bachelorette party and she specifically wanted me. 

In more ways than one. 

While she was cute, she wasn’t my type. 

Roger, the receptionist of Under The Right Lights Tattoo Parlor, and newest recruit of OMNS glanced at me over his shoulder. 

“Oh hey, Noah. Are you ready for the walk-in?” 

I shook my head. “No, I’m not tattooing today. But I do have a job for you.” 

His eyes lit up. “Yeah?” 

“Tonight when the shop closes, stick around. We need your help with something,” I patted his shoulder. 

“You got it, boss,” Roger nodded with a wide smile. 

Turning on my heels, I stuffed my hands in my pockets to glance at my studio. I opened Under The Right Lights about six years ago and even though we had a slow start, once word got out that Noah Sebastian and Nicholas Ruffilo tattooed here, business flowed in through the doors. 

I took over my grandfather's other business eight years ago but needed something to cover those dealings so that's when I thought of opening a tattoo shop with my best friends; my brothers. While Nicholas tattooed, Jolly ran the financial side of things, and Nick, or as we called him Folio, ran the motorcycle shop right next door. He was a mechanic, one of the best in town, and he often frequented here through the door to the left of Nicholas’ booth when he wasn’t busy fixing bikes.

Above my tattoo shop housed thirty apartments, all owned by me, and I lived in the penthouse on the tenth floor. Everyone in OMNS also lived in their own units so we could always be close to each other, in case something came up. With nine of the units being occupied by us, I rented out the other twenty-one for another form of income each month. 

I treated everyone as an equal with the tattoo studio and OMNS but they also respected me enough to know that I had the final say with both. Things didn’t get approved unless I gave the okay. 

Glancing down at my watch, I noticed that it was only four in the afternoon meaning we had a few hours until we met with the brothers. So I walked over to the back area of the shop where we used a private section to make a small gym where I knew Ash and Byran would be. 

Ash was not only my bodyguard but he was also my trainer and Bryan took photos of the tattoos and ran our social media account. 

“Tonight, six o'clock,” I said while crossing my arms. 

Bryan wiped the sweat from his forehead and nodded. “I’ll make sure the SUV is loaded up.” 

“Thank you,” I then turned towards Ash. “I’ve got a body downstairs. Do you mind?” 

He shook his head. “Not at all. I’ll bring Matt. He needs a break from managing everything. Get out and smell the trees in the woods. Or the salty brine of the ocean.”

With a snort, I bid them goodbye before retreating into my office and ignoring the preposterous waves of the blonde in the waiting area and instead thought of a certain redhead. 

SAOIRSE

With a longing sigh, I brushed away the fire-red strands of hair from my face and adjusted my position on my bed to continue reading the book in front of me. It was the book Wolves: Behavior, Ecology, and Conservation by L. David Mech. This was the third time I’ve read but every time, I somehow learned something new. 

I've been out of college with my degree for four years now and although I haven’t done anything since then, I still tried to keep up with my studies. The possibility of opening up a wildlife rescue still weighed heavy on my mind but I knew my father would never agree to it. His money was to be used for other business opportunities.

The spiral notebook was filled with my chicken scratch handwriting and after tossing down the pen, I shook out the cramp from my hand to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It was nearing six in the evening and when it would be time for dinner with my father and uncle, they had to cancel due to a meeting that seemed to come out of nowhere. 

Next to the clock was a picture that made my heart drop to my stomach like it did every time. It was of me, my father, and my mother back on my eighteenth birthday and high school graduation; the last picture we took together. 

Because she was murdered that night. 

Eight years later the tears still burned in my eyes when I thought back to that night. We were driving home from dinner when someone crashed into our car and ran it off the road into a ditch. My father managed to pull me from the wreckage before the car burst into flames; my mother however wasn’t that lucky. We never found out who ran us off the road that night and whenever I asked about it, my father would wave me off and say one word only. 

Revenge. 

The relationship with my father was never the same since that night and once my Uncle Connor moved in, I retreated into myself. I loved them both dearly, but I blamed their life in the Irish Mafia for my mother's death. I did my best to remain respectful because I still lived in the McManus estate and knew I couldn’t make it on my own; not yet. My father had made it clear more than once that the only way I was to move out was either if I had my own money or married. 

Hence why I was doubling up on my studies, I needed to find some kind of job with my degree, a simple job at a store or fast food place would not be enough to survive on my own. And clearly, my relationship with my boyfriend was nowhere near marriage level yet; we’d only been together for less than a year and never spoke about getting married. 

I checked my phone and noticed Cory texted me a little while ago. 

Cory: I have to cancel tomorrow night, sorry. Work is sending me out of town and won’t be back till Sunday. 

I rolled my eyes knowing damn well he wasn’t the slightest bit sorry. 

Me: OK. See you then, I guess.

I locked my phone, the sound echoing in the quiet of my bedroom, and I busied myself once again with the book in front of me until there was a soft knock on my door. 

“Yes?” I called out. 

The door cracked open slightly and a head of white curls popped their head inside and I instantly smiled. 

“Hi, Dortha.” 

“Hello dear,” our housekeeper smiled, resting her frail hands in the pocket of her apron. “I know your father and uncle can’t make dinner but I still made your favorite. If you’re hungry.” 

My stomach growling gave way to my answer so with a chuckle, I let my studies be to follow Dortha out of my room and down to the dining room where I knew she already had a plate of food set up for me.

NOAH

The car ride across town to the McManus estate was filled with the ramblings of the other members of OMNS while I sat quietly behind the wheel, mind filled with more pressing matters. I gripped the wheel so hard that my knuckles were turning white, something Nicholas, who sat in the passenger seat, noticed right away. 

“Are you alright?” 

I nodded. “Just going over what I’m going to say.” 

Pulling the car to a slow stop at a red light, I drummed my fingers against the dashboard, trying another thing to calm my nerves since the deep breathing exercises my therapist recommended weren’t working. 

“Hey boss,” Roger spoke up from the back seat between Ash and Bryan. “Maybe someone else should drive. You seem nervous.” 

My eyes sliced into him through the rearview mirror. “No one drives my car but me.” 

With a shaking hand through his golden locks, he nodded and kept his head down the rest of the drive once I hit the gas again. 

“Do you know what you’re going to ask them? Folio wondered from the seat behind me while tapping the wooden drumsticks he always carried on his lap. 

“I’m thinking of coming out right and asking if they have any idea who killed Vincent,” I answered. 

Jolly shifted in the seat behind Nicholas and without having to gaze over at him, I knew he wasn’t too thrilled about my idea. 

“I’d say we just pop these fools. End this turf war once and for all,” Roger pipped up again. 

His excitement for being brought along tonight was evident but I was suddenly regretting my decision. 

“Chill, we need to be smart about this,” I said. 

“We can’t go in there with guns blazing,” Jolly added. 

I came to a stop in front of the large, gothic-like gate, and rolled down my window so I was able to click the button on the intercom. 

“Yes?” A thick Irish accent responded. 

I cleared my throat. “I have the brothers' dinner. Japanese with a side of Swiss.” 

Only static came from the speaker for a long moment until the loud creak of the gate caused Roger to jump in surprise and Byran to stifle a laugh behind his hand. The SUV glided up the long drive with ease as the setting sun spilled inside casting all of us in an orange and purple glow. We all piled out as soon as the car was parked in front of the McManus manor and I nodded towards Bryan, Ash, and Roger. 

“You three hang back in the foyer in case the brothers don’t want all of us in the meeting,” I said while clicking the safety on my gun before stuffing it in my back waistband. 

While Ash and Bryan agreed, both double-checking their weapons, Roger on the other hand made his distaste for my orders known with a low scowl. 

“All due respect, Noah,” he began. 

I adjusted the peaky hat on my head and raised a brow. “Is there a problem, Roger?” 

He shifted on his feet. “I’ve been the recruit for six months now, don’t you think I worked up being involved in one of these meetings?” 

I bit the inside of my cheek to my snarky remark to myself but Folio was quick to respond in my place. 

“Kid, calm down. It took Bryan six years to work up the ranks. Ash, it took him ten years.” 

Roger gaped at the two of them who seemed to have played along with Folio’s joke and agreed with a nod. 

“Can I atleast get a gun?” He outstretched his arms. “You guys are sending me into the warzone with no weapon!” 

“It’s only a warzone if you make it one,” Ash said. 

“No weapons for recruits,” I said. 

Not wanting to waste any more time out here, I led the group of us up the crumbling steps and came to a stop in front of the door. Motioning to Roger, I waited for him to ring the bell, and glanced around the vast grounds of the McManus estate while stuffing my hands deep into the pockets of my black peacoat. 

“Nervous?” 

Peering to my left, I nodded to Nicholas. “A bit.” 

He clapped my shoulder. “Let’s keep our questions short. Try to get the info we need then we can leave.”

“Yeah,” Folio agreed while shivering. “This place gives me the creeps. It looks like it's days away from caving in.” 

Glancing up at the old brick mansion, I had to agree with him. It looked as if neither of the McManus brothers bothered to keep up with the maintenance of the home and the overgrown grass on the other side of the driveway was proof of that. 

Suddenly the front door opened with an eerie creaking and all of our eyes met with an older lady with a head full of white curls. 

“Yes?” 

I stepped forward. “My name is Noah Sebastian. OMNS has a meeting with the brothers.” 

Her brown eyes shifted between all of us before she slowly stepped to the side, letting us all pile inside the grand manor. While the outside needed some work, the inside was marvelous with expensive pieces of art and not a speck of dust anywhere. 

“My name is Dorthea. I will let the brothers know you’re here,” she said with a thick Irish accent. 

Movement from the corner of my eye caught my attention and when I gazed up at the top of the stairs landing, all of my breath left my soul when those familiar hazel eyes met mine. All of the hairs not only on the back of my neck but on my arms stood straight with the buzz of electricity that shot through me when I noticed her eyes double in size. The brightness of her gaze struck a chord in my heart, playing a soft melody that only the two of us could hear. 

It had been a long while since I’d seen her last but fuck, she still looked absolutely breathtaking like she did the night of high school graduation.  

Her hair was deeper red than the last time we saw each other, now it cascaded down her back, and when she outstretched her arms on the wooden banister, her head tilted to the side in a way to assess all of these strangers in her home. 

Although four of us weren’t strangers to her. We all went to high school together even though she wouldn’t remember us. She was always with the group of kids that were rich, too good to be seen with the bottom dwellers like us. 

I removed my hat to hand it to Roger to hold onto it then shook out my hair from my eyes before slicking it back and I could have sworn I heard someone’s breath catch in their throat. 

“Noah Sebastian, standing here in my house. I must say, I almost didn’t recognize you without the long hair.” 

Well, shit. 

“Saoirse McManus,” I hummed in response to her sarcastic tone. 

A low scowl pulled on her lips before she pushed herself away from the banister and quickly scurried down the hall, disappearing around the corner. 

It was almost bittersweet seeing her again after all this time. While I wish it had been under better circumstances, I knew that I couldn’t allow myself to get wrapped up in Saoirse McManus; not again. I had built an empire since dropping out of high school and I couldn’t let anything tear it down, especially a silly little crush. 

It never was a silly crush. It was always more than that. You’re just bitter that she never felt the same.

Why would she ever have feelings for me? In her eyes and her financial stature, OMNS were nobodies; the gum on the bottom of their shoe. While they ran their empire up in the rich estates of the wealthy, we ran ours in the slums of the Concrete Jungle. There may have been a point in my life when I wanted to be in the same stature as her but now having earned my wealth, I realized that all I needed was my brothers. 

Bullshit. 

If that were the case, seeing her tonight wouldn’t have taken my breath away and cock twitched with such a dire need for her. 

“What was that about her not remembering you?” Jolly asked. 

I ran a hand over my mouth. “I didn’t think she would.” 

“Hey,” Roger’s head popped in between Jolly and I. “That’s the daughter, right? You know, rumors are going around the CJ that she’s the one that killed Vincent.” 

My eyes sliced into him and Jolly had to press a hand to my chest to keep me from wrapping my hands around his throat. 

“The CJ?” I spat out through a clenched jaw. 

Roger swallowed thickly. “Yeah. The Concrete Jungle. I thought you would understand the nickname since you were the one who created the Concrete Jungle. I spend a lot of time in the tunnels with groups of guys who tell stories of OMNS success. Why do you think I wanted to join so badly?”  

“Do me a favor, kid. Stop lingering in the underground parts of the jungle because you don’t know what dwells underneath there. You don’t want to find yourself in a situation you can’t sweet talk your way out of,” I said. 

“What?” He let out an airy chuckle. “Are you hiding a tank full of sirens? Or creating your own artificial intelligence?” 

With a dark look filling my eyes, I gave him a smirk before giving him my back when I heard the faint footsteps of Dorthea returning.

“Just the Japanese and Swiss,” she pointed to us. 

Jolly let out a groan. “I’m Swedish.” 

“Follow me,” she hooked a finger at us, ignoring Jolly. 

Giving the rest of my brothers a nod, we followed Dorthea down a long wide hallway, and I took in the sight of all the pictures lining the wall, noticing that they were family pictures of the McManus family. 

The first picture was of the man who started it all over one hundred years ago, Cillian McManus. It continued for a long while until Fergal’s familiar face caught my eyes, followed by his son, then Connor, then Murphy with his wife and Saiorse. 

Coming to a brief stop, I studied the picture for a long moment, before Jolly pulled me along. 

“The brothers are allowing you five minutes of their time,” Dorthea informed as we stopped in front of a set of double doors and her hands wrapped around the golden knobs. 

“How generous,” I grumbled under my breath just before the door opened. 

Inside was a huge library/office combo. Three out of four of the walls were just bookshelves full of books, the smell of old literature tickling my nose. Thick black carpet covered almost every inch of the floor and in the center of the room were two long burgundy couches that sat horizontally to an old fireplace that was blazing with hot flames. I felt the warmth on my face when Jolly and I stepped inside.  

On either couch sat the brothers, both having a glass dangling from their fingers, and their hushed conversation seized when they noticed our presence. 

“Ah,” the taller one with shorter hair muttered as he slowly stood to his feet and extended his free hand toward me. “You must be Noah. An acquaintance of mine said I’d be expecting you. I’m Conner.” 

After we shook hands, Connor motioned to the other man on the couch, who still had yet to stand up. “That is my twin brother Murphy.” 

Giving him a curt nod, I clasped my hands behind my back. “This is Joakim. We won’t take much of your time. But we do have one question to ask.” 

While Murphy muttered something in Irish under his breath, Connor urged me to ask. 

“About six months ago, a dear friend of ours Vincent Riquier was murdered, his body being left on the doorstep of my tattoo shop. I had some intel point me in the direction of someone in the Irish family.” 

Connor's brow raised as he took a small drink of his amber liquid. “Are you saying we had something to do with it?” 

Jolly shook his head. “Not at all. We were just wondering if you could let us know if our intel was correct since it came from one of your men.” 

This caused Murphy to snap his head towards us and brushed away the long hair from his face; blue eyes boring into us. “One of our men?” 

“Barry,” I said flatly. “Movie star looks. Although, I must say that was before.” 

The twins shared a look before Murphy rose to his feet with a roar. “You killed him?” 

I stood toe to toe with him, not showing him an ounce of fear because I knew guys like this could smell it. 

“Never said I did,” I answered with a shrug.

“Imigh leat,” Murphy waved a hand in my face before turning on his feet to face the fireplace. 

Connor let out a displeased noise at his brother before giving Jolly and me a tight smile, the lines in his face creasing. “You must ignore my brother, he just argued with his daughter before you arrived.” 

Saoirse’s face crept into my mind but I did my best to push away those feelings. I couldn’t give away my feelings for her; the ones that stayed buried for so long. 

“Again with this foolish dream of opening an animal rehab facility. Why she wants to work when she has all the money I can give her if she just stays here is beyond my thinking,” Murphy muttered after downing the rest of his drink, slamming the cup on the table next to the couch. 

“About Barry,” Connor ignored his brother while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dress pants. “If you did kill him, one less thing for us to worry about. He was a pain in our arses anyway.” 

“So then, as a token, you’ll give us the direction we need to look into for our friend's death,” Jolly tried while scratching the facial hair on his chin. 

With Connor’s silence, his gaze locked in on us with his hand on the holster on his hip, and Murphy’s back still to us, I nodded towards Jolly, who understood and we bid the brothers goodbye. 

“Thank you for your time,” I said before ushering Jolly outside of the room before me. 

Once we were back in the solitude of the hallway, we rushed back to the foyer with a burning feeling at the back of my neck. Something wasn’t right, their silence told us way too much and I needed to get far away from here. 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Jolly noted. 

I agreed with a low rumble in my chest, placing my hat back on. “I know. They were quick to dismiss us and I didn’t like how Connor reached for his gun.” 

Hearing our footsteps echo loudly on the marble floor, Bryan glanced up from his phone with furrowed brows. 

“That was quick.” 

“We’ll discuss it in the car,” I said while ushering everyone outside quickly. 

One by one we all piled out of the house and before I stepped through the threshold, I dared a glance back up to the stairs landing, hoping to catch sight of her but instead, I locked eyes with two large guards who had their guns in their grasp. 

“Boss, this doesn't make sense,” Roger turned swiftly on his heels and blocked me. 

“Roger, not now,” I said sternly. “Get to the car. Now.” 

“All these rumors, they had to start somewhere,” he continued to ramble on. 

I backhanded his chest and then threw a thumb over my shoulder to the men who were now descending the grand staircase. Finally, when Roger noticed them, he scrambled out the door, me swiftly following behind him. 

All of us gathered around the SUV to discuss what our next plan of action would be. There were other Irish families I could talk with but they all had connections to the McManus brothers so they wouldn’t give me anything. 

As I was chatting with Nicholas, Roger began pacing in front of the car, running a hand through his hair. 

“What’s his problem?” Nicholas mumbled to me. 

“He thinks the brothers are hiding something,” I informed him while shrugging. “I must admit, I feel the same. They were too closed off in there. And the way those guards were staring at me, I swore they were looking for a fight.” 

“In retaliation for Barry?” 

“Could be,” I ran a hand over my chin. “Or they don’t appreciate us showing up tonight. Either way, we need to get out of here.” 

Everyone began loading into the SUV, besides Roger, who was still pacing. 

“Roger, get in,” I demanded from behind the driver's door. 

"They're a bunch of liars. all of them. I bet you that broad upstairs knows something.” 

All I saw was read for a few moments before I realized that I had Roger pinned to the hood of the car by his throat, my tattooed fingers cutting off his oxygen. Strands of my hair fell into my eyes but I made no effort to let up my grip. 

“Watch how you speak about her,” I spit out. 

Roger’s eyes were white as he struggled to fight me, his nails digging into the skin of my wrist. 

“Shit,” Ash muttered while scrambling out of the car to wrap his arms around my chest, trying to pull me away. “Let him go, Noah. You’re going to kill him.” 

With an effortless grunt, I tossed Roger to the ground and did my best to fix my hair when Ash let me go as the front door of the manor opened; Saiorse walked out with the two guards following closely behind her. 

She paid us no mind as she trotted down the steps and began walking the opposite way of us. Glancing at my watch, I noticed that it was 8 p.m. 

“The only time she leaves is at 8 o'clock for her nightly walks.” Barry’s words from earlier rang in my ears. 

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I grumbled while adjusting my jacket. 

Roger quickly scrambled to his feet and when he finally noticed the two guards who had stopped walking to watch us with careful eyes, something switched in Roger’s mind. My jaw began to drop when I saw him reach for something underneath his shirt, my next words came out slow, almost inebriated. 

“Roger, no!” 

The sound of gunfire erupted, and all of us dropped to our knees around the car for some sort of protection. Bullets ricochet off of the car, one nearly missing my forehead as it blew the hat clear off my head. I strangled out a vacant cry while pressing my body closer to the car. My heart was beating widely in my chest and my hands shook but I didn’t have time to dwell on almost dying, I needed to stop this before it became worse than it already was. 

“Mother fucker!” 

Glancing over my shoulder, I cursed when I saw Folio go down to the ground clutching his thigh, his gun skidding halfway down the long driveway. I crawled over to him, keeping my head down when I noticed that a couple more McManus guards had emerged from inside and now we were outnumbered; seven to nine. 

Blood oozed out from the wound on Folio’s thigh and I grabbed a handful of his shirt, ripping a large piece from it. 

“You’re alright; just a flesh wound,” I reassured him while fixing the makeshift tourniquet. 

“Where the hell did Roger find a gun?” Folio asked through clenched teeth when I squeezed too hard on his wound to stop the bleeding. 

“I’m about to find out,” I patted his cheek before ripping my gun from behind my pants and clicked off the safety. 

Using the open door of the SUV as a shield, I peered around it to see that four guards were lying dead on the ground, two were hiding behind the pillars of the manor for their own protection, and one was coming towards us. 

Firing off two rounds, both hitting the mark of the guard's chest, I watched him crumble to the ground and then gave a sharp whistle towards Jolly who was firing his weapon in the car through the shot-out back windshield. 

“Two on the porch!” I yelled over the sounds of gunfire. 

Jolly nodded and I gave him protection against the other two guards who were firing their weapons from behind a bush, he snuck up to the two guards hiding on the porch, their lives ending before they even noticed him. 

Now the numbers were in our favor so slowly rising to my feet, I stepped out from my shield and called out to the last two McManus guards. 

“You’re not walking out of this alive!” 

“Imeacht go fánach ort féin is ar do chnapán miúlach!” A deep voice rumbled out from behind the bus. 

A flash of red caught my attention and I forgot for a moment that Saoirse was outside when the shootout began. I could hear my heart in my ears with worry if she’d been hit but when I saw her slowly rise to her feet due to one of the guards pushing her to farther safety, I breathed a little. 

Until a gun went off to my left and with sharp eyes, I watched as the bullet hit Saoirse in the arm, blood splattering against the fading white paint of the house. 

“Bitch! That’s for Vincent!” Roger bellowed his victory. 

I let out a vicious growl as I tackled him to the ground, laying fist after fist into his face. Poor kid never saw me coming and gave no fight against me. By the time I finished, my knuckles were broken and raw, covered in not only my blood but his as well. Roger’s face was a mangled mess as he rolled over to his side, spitting out chunks of spit mixed with blood. For a final measure, I laid a swift kick to his stomach making sure he wouldn’t get up for a while. Through the white noise in my brain, I did my best to calm my breathing when I gazed over my shoulder to the carnage that lay in our wake; all thanks to Roger’s trigger finger. 

Besides Folio, all of my men were unharmed and it seemed as if Folio would be fine. However, out of nine McManus guards, only two remain. One held something to Saoirse’s arm while the other tossed his gun to the ground, showing us he surrendered. 

“Is she alright?” I called out to them. 

“Fuck you, Noah!” She spat, eyes almost as red with fury as the color of her hair. 

Yeah, she was fine.

Through the eerie silence of the night air, I watched as the front door carefully opened then both the McManus brothers stepped into the carnage. 

“Saoirse!” Murphy’s voice boomed. 

“She’s over here!” The one guard who was tending to her wound called out while pulling them out from behind the bushes. 

I sucked in a breath when I saw all the blood staining the gray long sleeve of her sweater as the guard quickly whisked her inside, her father right on her tail. The look of pure hatred was on Connor’s face as he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Whose bullet hit my niece?” He asked. 

I pointed to the broken body of Roger, who was still struggling to rise to his feet. “I’ll take care of him, I promise you.” 

Conner gave a curt nod before hooking his finger in my direction. “You. By yourself. Now.” 

Licking my lips, I nodded and handed over my gun to Ash, who looked at me with bewilderment in his eyes. 

“Are you insane?” He demanded. “You can’t go in there by yourself.” 

“If they wanted me dead, I would be,” I said with more reassurance in my voice than I was feeling. 

Giving a soft smile to the rest of my men, letting them know I’d be fine, I stepped back inside the manor with Conner close behind. 

SAOIRSE

“What the fuck!” I screamed while pushing myself away from the table, but hissing as pain shot through my arm.

The doctor we had on standby informed me that it was merely a flesh wound I suffered and closed it up with a few stitches and some pills for the pain. 

“Watch your tongue,” my father warned while not looking away from his plate of food. 

“You just told me that I’m supposed to marry Noah Sebastian! How the fuck can I watch my tongue?! This is absurd! You can’t make that decision for me.” 

He pushed away his plate with a sigh and then steepled his fingers together. “I can because I am your father. And for the price of peace, I couldn’t deny his offer.” 

I nearly fell back into my seat at the dining room table. “His offer? This was his idea?” 

My Uncle Conner nodded. “That man is quite the negotiator. He didn’t want any more bloodshed and for a truce, he asked for your hand in marriage; we agreed on one condition.” 

“Oh, I can't wait to hear what this condition was,” I placed my hand on my hip. “Does he want a baby in a year? Do I have to abide by his command? Am I to be locked away in a castle for the rest of my life?” 

“Far from that,” my father lit his cigar, puffing the smoke into the air. “We agreed that you can marry him as long as he kill the man that shot you.” 

My eyes widened. “The kid? Fucking hell, dad! He can’t be more than twenty years old!” 

“Then he shouldn’t have been involved in a game that was designed for men!” My father’s fist slammed on the aged oak of the table. 

I didn’t even flinch, being so used to his outbursts like this. Instead, I fought back harder against this offer. 

“What about Cory?” I questioned. 

“Who?” My father’s thick brows furrowed as the age lines in his forehead creased. 

“The boyfriend,” my uncle informed him while swirling the ice cubes around in his cup. 

My father did a double take. “How the fuck do you know?” 

“Fuck you, I know shit,” he shrugged. 

“Very well,” my father sighed. “It’s not like this relationship would have worked out anyway. You will end it and move in with Noah by Friday.” 

“FRIDAY?!” I screeched. “That’s in two days!” 

“The wedding will be at the end of the month,” my uncle informed me. 

Too much information had been thrown at me all at once and I pinched the bridge of my nose to keep myself from crying. I typically wasn’t a crier but from the moment I laid my eyes on Noah Sebastian in the foyer of my home, all of my old feelings came rushing in like a tidal wave and I still didn’t have time to process that. 

“If I say no to this deal?” I shot back. 

Neither my uncle nor father said anything, simply motioned to the guns that lay next to their plates. Now, I knew they didn’t mean they would kill me. Instead, they would kill Noah and every last mother fucker who had anything to do with tonight.

“This is unbelievable!” I yelled while throwing my hands up and storming my way up the stairs to my bedroom. 

The sound of my door slamming shook the old bones of the manor and I yanked the ends of my hair with a scream. I despised not only this life but also the fact that I couldn’t do anything about this arrangement. Not when the lives of innocents were on the line. 

Innocents? They shot you! 

Shaking the thought from my mind, I fell back onto my bed with a groan. It was easy to tell that the kid was the one that started the unnecessary gunfight. Noah was only doing what he could to protect his people. 

Those gorgeous almond eyes haunted me for years, plaguing my entire existence since I first saw them freshman year of high school. I never could do anything about it, however, knowing that we ran in different circles and it was forbidden. His family ran the slums while mine ran the prestige wealth. 

The last I saw of Noah or any of those guys was the night of high school graduation. While Noah dropped out three months before, the rest of his friends walked across the stage and he was there for support. Our eyes locked across the vast space of the room. His hair was long but pulled back into a high bun, showcasing the sharpness of his cheekbones as he gave me a gentle smile. Of course, I had to ignore the pull of my heart strings, no matter how strong they were. 

If someone had told a teenage me that now, eight years later, I’d be marrying that man who captured my heart so long ago, I’d laugh in their face. 

Running a hand over my face, I sat up in bed and quickly dialed Cory’s number so I could deliver the news. On the eighth ring, he answered almost breathlessly. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi,” I played with the ends of my hair. “Do you have a minute to talk?” 

There was some rustling on his end before his breath came through. “I suppose.” 

Ignoring the tone, I took a deep inhale to prepare myself for breaking the news to him. “There’s no easy way to say this. But my father just informed me that he arranged a marriage for me. I have to move in with the guy on Friday. I tried to fight it, tried to fight for us, but I didn’t have a choice. It’s something I have to do.” 

There was a very long beat of silence on Cory’s end before his voice broke through. “Ok. Thanks for letting me know.” 

My heart dropped to the pits of my stomach. “W-what? That’s it?” 

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Scarlett? You said it yourself, you don’t have a choice in this. Why fight for something that has no end in sight?” 

I bit down on the inside of my cheek hard to not snap at him but eventually failed. 

“You know, you’re right. What’s the fucking point,” I seethed. 

Before I could hang up on him, I heard the click and stared down in disbelief at my now black screen. 

“What a piece of shit!” I bellowed while tossing my phone onto my bed. 

My knee bounced in anger, that conversation adding more fuel to the fire, and as much as I wanted to scream out my frustrations I knew that it would be futile. Instead, I dragged my feet into the large walk-in closet and began packing up things that I knew I would need in my new life. 

NOAH

Wiping away the blood from my rings, I stepped into the lobby of the quiet tattoo shop and noticed Nicholas closing up his section. 

“How’d it go tonight?” I wondered after tossing the rag into the bag he had opened. 

The one we planned on burning anyway so any evidence would be gone in the flames. 

“Slow night but those aren’t bad every once in a while,” he answered before motioning to the door I previously walked through. “All finished?” 

“Yeah, Jolly and Folio are cleaning it up. This one was messier than I would have liked. I’ll admit, the kid put up a hell of a fight,” I said while leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

The tattooed muscles in my forearms flexed. 

“Did he say where he found the gun?” 

“Bought it off of someone on the street before we left that night. Apparently, he had a feeling I wouldn’t allow him to have one and he felt like he needed protection,” I informed Nicholas. 

Who, in turn, snorted while packing up his tattoo gun. “A lot of good it did.” 

My lips parted to speak but with the sound of the bell dinging above the door, revealing that someone had stepped inside. 

“Sorry, we’re closed,” the words died in my throat when I saw who walked inside. 

Her hair was pulled back into a tight braid, her green eyes standing out amongst everything else about her. She carried two suitcases behind her and one large duffel bag on her shoulder. 

“Hi,” I said while standing straight up. 

All of the breath inside of me left me with a whoosh of air as the excitement of our arrangement finally filled me. When I first brought up the idea to the McManus brothers, I fully expected them to deny it. Much to my surprise, they agreed almost immediately with the exception that I take care of Roger, as promised. 

Not even an hour after sending the picture to Murphy, his daughter was standing in front of me; bags in tow.

“Hi?” Saoirse scowled. “Do you know what the fuck I had to go through to get here? The number of times I had to circle the building to find somewhere to park? Two blocks away. Not to mention, how many homeless people stopped me along the way to ask for either money or drugs? And all you can say is hi?” 

Biting my lip at my smile, I walked over to the receptionist's desk to rest my elbows on it. 

“Are you finished?” I teased with a playful gleam in my eyes. 

She scoffed, appalled. “Am I finished? No, Noah. Far fucking from it. How dare you bid for my life without my consent? This isn’t the 1900’s where this was a common thing! I have a say in who I should marry!” 

“Then why are you here?” 

Saoirse pursed her lips and when I realized she had nothing to say back, I pushed off the counter to close the distance between us, my height towering over her. 

“Let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t pay for you. I don’t plan on holding you prisoner here. You have a say with anything and everything however to keep the peace from stumbling into my empire, if I had to arrange for your life, you bet your fucking ass I would do.” 

Her lips mimicked a fish and when her shoulders slumped in defeat, I held out my hand to her. “Keys.” 

“Excuse me?” She raised a brow. 

“Give me your keys. OMNS Legacy Villas has underground parking. There’s already a reserved spot for you,” I informed her. 

Shoving the keys in my hand, she sliced her eyes into me. “If it says Saoirse, change it.” 

I quickly tossed the keys to Nicholas, who understood and slipped out of the shop to retrieve her car. 

“Change it?” I repeated her words. 

“The only people who call me that are my father and uncle. Everyone else calls me Scarlett,” she tossed her bags on the ground at my feet before crossing her arms over her black sweater. 

This sass that fell from her blood-stained lips made me want to toss her onto the counter, rip off that sweater, and attack every inch of her skin with my teeth but I refrained. Instead, I brushed a hand through my hair and smiled. 

“Scarlett it is.” 

Scarlett glanced out the large window in front of the shop, watching as people walked past, every single one of them dealing with something in their own lives. The trash that littered the street was figuratively and literally. I had to admit that when I first opened up my empire here, the slums were extremely bad but with my help and funding, the streets had been cleaned up immensely; with a few stranglers still lurking around. 

Especially in the underground. 

“I don’t understand how you live here. The homeless, the drug deals, and the illegal activities I saw walking in here. It’s disgusting,” she shivered. 

I stood next to her now, stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my pants. “Welcome to the Concrete Jungle, Scarlett.” 

She turned her head up to me as I bent low towards her, my warm breath fanning those beautiful lips. “Where I’m the fucking king.” 

[would-holden-caulfield-like-nge]

Design Thoughts

Hey there! I am starting a new thing on this blog.

Oftentimes, I spend time thinking about goals and design choices for the art I make. But I never really get the chance to talk about it. So I have decided, that when I have something to say about some drawing I made, I will include it in a reblog (I would put it under a Readmore, but as I learned recently, they just do. not. work.)

I understand that this may not be what some people followed me for, so this will always be tagged BullyDesign, so you can filter it if you want to.

So anyways, here are some thoughts.

This drawing was supposed to be a part of a larger comic, but I realized, that the idea made no sense. But the way I imagined this, I thought this could stand on its own as a cool visual.

Scanned ink drawing

Cleaned up

Now, the basic idea behind this drawing was a contrast between straight and organic lines. I actually drew up the letters with straight line guidelines underneath. I'm not sure, if typing in the letters with a program would have been better. On one hand, it would be even straighter and less organic, therefore heightening the contrast, but on the other hand, I feel like it could be a bit boring. Hmm..

Obviously, these letters would then contrast with the more organic face drawing, which would then be unnaturally cut off at the side by a straight line. This same idea of contrast continues in the knife and the scar, both of which consist of a straight line, contrasted by a curved line. With the scar specifically, I was thinking about the way a wound actually looks, especially with an artificial cut. On one hand, you have this rather straight parting of the skin, but then the skin also... splays, if that makes sense? The edges of it simply get a bit more wiggly as it heals, less resembling the path of that first artificial cut.

I then spent a lot of time shuffling the face and the letters around, until it clicked in my brain. I feel like when you have only two elements in a relatively small space and one of them is all square, you have to place and space them apart in such a way, that it just feels geometrically right. I don't really know any rules for this, but I know it when I see it. I had to shift it around once more, when I added the borders around the letters.

The coloring also took a bit of thinking. At first, I wanted it all to be in black and white, but I thought, that that would be a bit boring. So I added color to the scar and the eye. But then I had a color balance problem, in the sense, that all the color was cramped into this one small area. So I tried to think of solutions. I thought about adding one more color to the knife, or perhaps behind the white of the letters, but I realized, that I was thinking in the wrong direction. Eventually, I made a sort of compromise and made the background black a dark red instead (though, the colors on my monitor are a bit washed out, so on your phone, it might look like an intense red. Oh well!) That way, I kept similar color values, plus this solution doesn't attract too much attention to itself. It really is clean.

In general, with this piece, I was thinking more along the lines of graphic design, which was fun. It was more about arranging shapes, rather than adding flair and details.

Gee, I sure typed out a lot! But it was fun to write. And who knows, maybe there is at least one person out there who will like to read it. I really like reading other artists' thoughts like this. I was actually inspired to do this because I like reading John Kricfalusi's old blog so much.

A designy sort of thing!

[orchid3a]

aria my bby my twin hear me out again !!!

in an au that shin didn't disband the black dragons and the gang became something like bonten, what if the big and powerful gang leader fell in love with a girl he took as payment for her boyfriend's debts? at first you hate shin because you deem him as the reason of your doom, but he's so attentive and treats you so much better than your ex boyfriend did, and you're so confused bc how can the hands of an assassin feel so soft caressing your skin?

INTOXICATION - S. SHINICHIRO

synopsis: Your ex-boyfriend sells you to his loan sharks... Something goes wrong

pairing: yandere!mob boss!Sano Shinichiro x f!reader

tw: yandere, death, implied manipulation, smut, breeding kink, swearing, implied past marathon sex, implied past toxic relationship dynamics (y/n and her ex-bf), mention of prostitution, violence (not toward y/n)

wc: 1378 words

tagging: @haitaniapologist @rnht @qiqi-tutu @momoewn

nsfw taglist click here to join!

note: put the whole ariussy for shinichiro 😼 i'm here to convert everyone to yandere!manipulative!shinichiro

no proofreading

english isn’t my native language

reblogs and comments are appreciated

MDNI 18+ CONTENT AGELESS BLOGS DON'T INTERACT

Homo homini lupus est. A man is a wolf to another man 

There is no better phrase to describe your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend, who just told you the mess he pulled you in. That dickhead, no other name can sum up his idiocy, had a huge debt with the wrong people, and since he didn’t have all the money to pay them back, he sold you to them. He sold you, his girlfriend, to the infamous Black Dragons, one of the most powerful and dangerous gangs in all Japan.

“How could you! I trusted you! I threw away everything, my whole family, my career and my friends for a fucking idiot like you!” You shout crying, the weight of the situation crushing your spirit. Your whole life was thrown away because he couldn’t pay them back.

He ignores your screams and cries while he hurries preparing a bag with his clothes, ready to flee and leave you to your unhappy fate. However a knock makes both of you stop in your tracks. You weren’t expecting guests today…The same couldn’t be said for that idiot.

You summon all your courage and you open the door, still not prepared for whatever Fate has for you.

Four men enter your home, they are all tall and not seem so friendly and open to dialogue. You gulp and one man, who you think is the leader, turns his attention to you. His dark hues show no sign of mercy, but on his face there is a gentle smile that gives you shivers. How can he smile when his eyes are so empty?

One of his companions, a man with a scar on his right eye, smirks darkly when he sees your boyfriend.

“Where do you think you are going? We just arrived, so drop that bag and hand over the money.” 

(b/n) gulps trembling like a leaf as slowly he puts the bag down, before starting babbling some bullshits and you roll your eyes, that didn’t go unnoticed by the leader.

“I think the miss here doesn’t know the whole situation, it’s rude to exclude her. Waka can you explain everything to her? Benkei you hold our friend here, Takeomi, you start searching for the cash.”

A white-haired guy, who you assumed is Waka, comes closer and with bored eyes he starts explaining what happened. The tall buff guy, Benkei, holds your boyfriend who starts begging for his life, while the guy with the scar, Takeomi, trashes your house in search of money.

You nod at whatever he tells you, but your eyes are focused on the leader, who feels your gaze and comes closer to you.

“Shin, I told her everything…I’m gonna help Takeomi.” Wakasa says and leaves you with “Shin”. 

But before he can talk, (b/n)’s screams and grunts grab your attention and you turn towards him. You freeze as you see Shin’s companions, Waka and Takeomi, kicking and punching him while Benkei holds him.

“Pretty girl” - Shin’s hand grabs your chin making you turn towards him - “Good girls don’t ignore their interlocutor when he is starting a conversation.” His honey voice is hypnotizing and you nod completely ignoring (b/n).

Shin smiles and tilts your head, his black hues bore into yours, you gulp unsure on what to do.

“Pretty girl, do you know where the money is? Your boyfriend borrowed too much money and now we need it back, ya know. He tried to sell you to us, but I’m a gentleman and I would never let a scumbag like him sell his girl for his mistakes.” 

He is a charmer for sure, he knows how to use his words and what is your weakness and how to exploit it to make you do what he wants. 

“In the wardrobe…there is a safe hidden by his clothes…the code is his birth date. It’s xx - xx - xxxx” You spill everything as if Shin casted a spell on you.

Your words make him smile, he pats your head and turns his attention to his companions.

“Kill him” The tone of his voice is cold as the ice makes you tremble, Shin gets in front of you and his big pale hands cover your ears to muffle the shot.

You couldn’t see or hear the pitiful cries of your boyfriend, you were too focused on the man in front of you, a man full of mysteries and secrets.

That night he took you with him, despite his friends’ complaints, and you let him take you. You had no one, no money, no house to return, now Shinichiro, or Shin, was your only home. 

It has been a year since you met him, and he treated you better than your ex did. Never once he shouted at you, ignored your feelings or invalidated them. 

At first Takeomi and Wakasa, his second-in-command, wanted to throw you in one of their brothels but Shinichiro didn't agree. For him you should be in a more suitable place, his arms. You know that he isn't good for you, he literally kidnapped you and killed your ex, yet there was something in him that made it impossible to run away from him. 

Were his dark, indecipherable black eyes or his warm deep voice? The way he holds you, he is warm and feels home more than anybody else. 

Shinichiro is warm, affectionate and gentle. 

The headboard is slamming against the wall, yet Shin doesn't seem to slow down his speed. He has been fucking you for hours, or so it seems, you lost the count of how many times he made you cum. Your legs are over your ears, Shin is deep inside your pussy. Your eyes roll back as Shin hits a particular spot, this angle lets him hit you deeper than before. 

" S-Shin 's to-o mu-much." You moan helplessly, your head feels light and your vision is turning white, feeling so close to your climax. 

"Pretty girl one more, just one more. I need to make sure my pretty baby gets pregnant" he murmurs a gentle smile adorning his beautiful face. 

You nod and Shin smiles, still thrusting into you, his hands caressing your sides while he drowns you with praises and gentle words.

“My pretty girl, you’re doing so well” - his dark eyes full of love and lust bore into your watery (e/c) ones - “I love you baby, make me a daddy. Come on pretty girl! Fuck!” he hisses before pressing a kiss on your quivering lips .

“ ‘m cl-close Shin! Please!” you moan, feeling closer and closer to cum.

“Fuck baby me too! Let’s cum together.” he groans and his hips are still thrusting into your abused pussy.

His rough thrusts, gentle coaxing and loving gaze made you cream all over his cock, your vision turns white and mewls leave your mouth. Shin follows you after, pumping his seed inside your womb and securing it, yet he doesn't slip out. He slowly lays your legs at his hips, then he flops on you nuzzling his cheek in your neck.

Too tired to do anything, you can just stroke his black hair, mumbling a small “I love you” before falling asleep, lulled by his heartbeat and his soft kisses over your skin.

Shinichiro always wins, there is no battle he can’t win. What he wants he gets, he will use any means to get it, even using people. It was a child’s play to persuade your ex to get that money, after he “accidentally” was fired from his work. Not that Shinichiro actually threatened the manager to fire him or he would have received a bullet between his eyes. No, he is a gentleman.

It was love at first sight when he first saw you, he still remembers how beautiful you were wearing a white dress and dancing in one of his clubs. You looked so pure and innocent. He couldn’t tear his eyes from you, and in that moment he knew you two were meant to be together. It was easy to obtain information about you and the rest is history. Now he has you and he will never let you go. You two will be together forever until death comes between you. Not that Shin would let it happen.

[souyaf]

KINKTOBER DAY SEVENTEEN

INCEST + SOFT&SWEET

who: tokyo revengers: seishu inui/reader

kinks: incest (brother+sister), soft!inui, teasing, lots of pet names, praise/encouragement, no prep, multiple orgasms

info: 1098 words

summary: your big brother is just the sweetest.

+ THIS BLOG CONTAINS DARK CONTENT.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST.

He smelled so good, sweet and fragrant from the shower he just took. Having his larger body atop yours had you feeling dizzy. Your head swam and all you could think about was him. His pretty blonde hair that was still dripping wet, the scar over his eye, his soft skin that you couldn’t help clutching at.

It was wrong, but nothing felt better than your big brother’s adventurous hands caressing your body.

“My sweet baby,” he whispers, lips pressed against your ear, “You’re so wet, I can feel it.”

You immediately nod, nails biting into his shoulders, “‘S ‘cause of you, Shu.”

“Oh?” he chuckles, low in his chest, “What did I do, baby?”

As if he didn’t know. His fingers toyed with the band of your panties, exposed after he haphazardly shoved your nightgown up. He carefully dipped past the fabric, grinning when your entire body tensed up -- anticipation absolutely palpable.

But you sunk back into the bed when he pulled away. In the dim light of your bedroom, you could see the little grin he badly concealed on his face. With a dramatic yawn, he raised his arms above his head and stretched, the groan he let out making your thighs clench together.

“Well,” he hums, “I’m gonna get some sleep. Goodnight, baby, thanks for playin’ with me.”

He gives you a fleeting kiss to your forehead before clamoring off of your bed, your eyes practically burning holes into him as he leaves your room.

He lays in bed for close to 20 minutes before he hears your door creak open. A grin finds its way across his face when you sheepishly push his own door open, peeking in with the sweetest little pout on your lips.

“What is it, baby?” he asks, playing into the clueless role to watch you squirm, “Can’t sleep?” you shake your head and wander in, pushing the door shut before climbing onto his bed. He opens his arms for you, letting you fall into his chest with a whine, “Why would that be, hm?”

“You know…” you whimper, voice muffled by his chest.

“Do I?” he hums, one of his hands sliding down the length of your body until he reached the hem of your nightgown, carefully tugging it up over your ass. You eagerly arch your back, “‘S it cause your big brother made your little cunt too wet? Hm?”

You nod, “Want you to make me feel good, Shu.”

He laughs, “Alright, anything for my sweet little sister.”

You promptly find yourself flipped over, your head on his pillows before he’s yanking your panties down your legs. Now that he has you in his bed, whining about how achy your wet little cunt is and how bad you need your precious big brother to play with it, he can’t find it in himself to tease either of you anymore.

He spreads your legs, slotting his covered length against your bare pussy. You keen at the contact, glossy, dazed eyes on his every movement, just waiting patiently for him to give you all the pleasure that you know only he can give you.

He can’t bring himself to pull away from you to properly strip both of you. So he tugs the band of his boxers down, tucking it beneath his full, plump balls that have your mouth watering.

He smiles, “You can play with my cock tomorrow, ‘kay?”

You nod, already shivering in excitement at the very idea of getting to worship your beloved big brother.

“So sweet,” he coos, fisting his cock, directing the tip to your entrance, “Let your big brother in, hm? Relax, sweet girl.”

You wince at the feeling of him stretching you out unprepared. The head pops into your tight entrance and you flinch, making him click his tongue in dismay.

“Told you to relax,” he whispers, burying his face in your neck while one of his hands slides between your bodies. The second the pads of his fingers touch your clit, you sink into the bed and he sighs, cock easily sinking deeper until his heavy balls are flush with your ass, “Atta girl, look at you. Tight little pussy swallowed me all up, hm? Such a good girl.”

You thrive under the praise, raising your hips to stir his cock within your walls. He chokes out of groan, remaining still so he can watch as you work yourself sloppily, the movements uncoordinated and jerky -- as expected for a precious little pillow princess like yourself.

Good little sisters like you always get taken care of -- he never makes you work for it. It’s his job as your big brother to take care of you, he always says.

But he can’t deny how sweet you look, desperately grinding yourself on his length, making sure to play with your clit so you can get off. It’s fast and easy, your sensitive little body so addicted to cock that you cum within minutes.

Once you slump against the bed, he starts his own pace. It’s careful and slow, with well-practiced rolls of his hips. You whine and whimper, pretty little noises that make him dizzy. He knows that the sweet moans of pleasure are reserved just for him -- no one but your big brother has ever had the honor of stuffing your tender little cunt like he has.

“Fuck,” he moans into your neck, “I love you so much, you’re so good for me.”

“Shu!” you wail, clawing desperately down his back. You’re so sensitive, not getting even a moment to rest after forcing yourself to cum all over his cock. Now his lovely love confession has tears springing to your eyes, you can’t help but cling desperately to him, “I love you! I love you Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou--”

You moan moan in unison as you come, your walls squeezing and spasming around him. He feels you soak his cock, a sticky mess being share between the two of you that he eagerly fucks out of you, desperate to reach his own end and fill you up with his cum.

When he finally cums, his whole body twitches and his fingers grip desperately at your body, holding you as close as he possibly could. You meet his gaze, eyes wide and bright as if he was everything in the world to you -- his cock twitching and throbbing as he fills you up nice and full with his precious cum.

Slowly, you both relax into each other's embraces, panting and calming down from your intense highs.

He presses a soft kiss to your temple, “My sweet baby.”

+ ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO SOUYAF. DO NOT MODIFY OR STEAL.

[cypressnmarigolds]

NSFW Bo Sinclair HCs + angst

I can't believe it. I've finally managed to start carving out a little space in my mean mind where I can feel safe and comfortable thinking about Bo. This is of course thanks to help from @slutforguts @early20sfailingplenty and @visceravalentines. You three have done some amazing work helping me get comfortable with Bo, even if you don't realize it, so thank you!

Anyway Let's get to it!

Contains: Bo being a complex, complicated human being. Switch, soft needy Bo.

🚫 Minors, blank and no-age blogs are not welcome on my blog or to interact with my posts. You will be blocked. 🚫

•First things first. I think Bo is very... complex. He goes back and forth with himself a lot. On one hand, he doesn't want to be a monster. He wants to be be better than his father (I think Victor facilitated a lot of the abuse Bo faced, Trudy probably just went along or didn't care unless she was pissed a Bo) and he wants to prove his parents wrong

•On the other hand, his parents taught him, told him he was a monster, wouldn't want to disrespect the dear old folks any would he? He also enjoys feeling so powerful in instilling fear and causing suffering to his victims. Making them feel like he did.

• This means Bo is going to have very complicated feelings about you as his (potential) s/o at first. He's going to be angry at you for making him feel so soft and weak and vulnerable, but at the same time, he wants to be so, so good for you, good to you. He has to be. Show you and everyone he's not a monster.

•When Bo first meets you, something clicks for him. Something about you catches his interest, makes him feel... something. He feels some pulsing incessantly in his brain, telling him he can't let you go. He can't hurt you, he can't kill you or scare you away. He doesn't know why, he just can't. His mind is an enigma. *cue image of spilt milk*

• Now, I Cannot, CANNOT imagine Bo putting his potential s/o in the chair. One, because I can't stand the idea , personally it would destroy my mind, and I can't even fathom coming out of that and still wanting Bo. I can't. Two, like I said, Bo doesn't want to be a monster to you. He won't put you there. He doesn't want to put you through what his parents did to him.

•He might actually be somewhat skittish and more reserved around you in the beginning. He's angry he feels so soft, but he's trying to be good for you. He's still gonna be a charming flirt, he may express frustration that you don't understand at times, but he is going to try SO hard not to take his shit out on you. Any visitors that roll in during this time get the brunt of his inner turmoil Vincent's having to do serious overtime, and also hiding away. Lester too, will be less present in town.

•Things are gonna be rocky and tense for a bit.

• I don't think he's gonna want sex too soon either. He has... intense tastes when it comes to sex, and doesn't want to scare or hurt you. He may believe that his desires are fucked up. He might see BDSM as a form of torture (given that all his kink gear is stored in the torture room) and has no place in pleasure shared between two consenting adults. Oh Bo, you are so very wrong.

• Bo will probably spill his guts to you one night after heavy drinking. When his scars itch and he scratches till they bleed, and the memories are too much to bear on his own. He will pour out everything to you though gritted teeth and sobs. What happened to him and his brothers, his parents, all his complicated feelings about you and his desire to be a good man for you despite how much of a monster he feels he is because of everything. He needs to know you love him anyway, and you do.(otherwise you wouldn't be here)

• Once all is said and done, you guys can work on things more calmly. Things will be worked and talked through. They won't be perfect, but Bo will be overjoyed that he gets to have this with you. Once you guys get to work on building your sex life, this fun really kicks off. 😈

• Bo loves to be dominant (but he is a switch) He loves tying you up, gagging you, teasing you, overstimulating you, denying you, spanking you, using toys on you... There's so much he loves to do with you.

•Anything you're comfortable with, he'll do. And he will praise/degrade you for being so brave and needy for him. And he will refer to himself as Daddy if you're on board with it I don't make the rules.

If you want some samplings Bo's dirty talk...

"You're my brave, strong little darlin' ain't 'cha? Lettin' me tie you up like this and have my way with you? Look at 'cha, squirmin' for me already.

"You gonna come for Daddy, huh? Is my needy little slut ready to come for me? Thaaaat's it, there you go darlin', make a mess for me."

"Is it too much sugar? You can't take another spanking? You sure? Cause this mess you're makin' all over my lap says otherwise."

•Now, Bo is a switch. Sometimes he needs to hand over the reigns. Let someone else do the thinking but sometimes he feels he needs to be put in his place or punished. Times like those can tricky to maneuver. Check in with him often and make sure he's not pushing himself past his limits. If you're domming him and you feel like something isn't right, use your safeword. Make sure he knows you don't want to hurt him. That you don't want to actually punish him, make him suffer. Sometimes he thinks he deserves it. Keep an eye on him.

• Now when Bo just wants to be fucked dumb and out of his mind? Ohhhh fuck you're in for a treat. He won't allow you to bind his hands, but he loves it when you take his hands in yours and press them to either side of his head while you fuck him.

•He loves being overstimulated (despite what his cries and whines may suggest) Does NOT like being denied. Edging is great, but ruined orgasms and straight up denial are a no-go for him.

• For some reason I can't stop thinking about Bo being blindfolded and having as many toys as possible used on him. So... blindfolds. Good.

If you want more samplings of Bo's dirty talk...

"Oh FUCK! Please! Ri--right there darlin' Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Ah! Please... N-no more. I-I can't-- Ah Fuck! Again please. please!"

"Shit, you feel so, so, sososo good inside me. Fuck! Harder!"

lots of moans he tries to hold in, but they only turns into whines.

•Bo also loves getting on his knees and between your thighs. Because he KNOWS how powerless you are with him kneeling between your legs, staring intensely up at you with those blue eyes. He may be on his knees, but he is fully in control. He loves watching you squirm under his gaze and falling apart.

OK. Holy shit. I'm exhausted. I had to get this all out while it was still in my mind. It's waaaaaay past my bedtime but I am so happy I got to do this. I hope you enjoyed!!

[baileythebean]

Yippee! You can find more about him on his blog - @boxer-boi

I have made an analysis post for him!

Basically, he was abandoned because of his dog-like features, which are a buried genetic trait in his bloodline that resurfaced in him (Just like Lynette.) He grew up in Fontaine’s forests and when he finally discovered the Court of Fontaine, he kept doing a lot of crimes he didnt know were wrong, vandalism, trespassing, treason, ETC, so he winds up in the Fortress, where Wriothesely and Sigewinne kinda take it upon themselves to raise him and teach him about the world + give him a basic education.

He loves being in the Fortress’s fighting ring because Wrio taught him how to box and he absolutely LOVES it because it is a great way to vent energy and frustration. He kinda branched his style off into kickboxing because he likes using his legs and not just his arms. He’s allowed in and out of the Fortress whether he’s in for a crime or not, and Neuvillette is aware of this.

He’ll call Wrio dad but tries to keep it professional around others to avoid suspicion of favoritism.

The scar below his eye is from when someone smuggled a knife into the ring (because they were desperate to win money and had no fighting experience) and they sliced his face open :( other than that one fight, he has a NOTORIOUS record for winning his fights!

Refs⬆️

He also has a huge fluffy red tail and paws like Kirara, but a dog’s, and since his claws aren’t retractable, he makes little clicks on the fortress’ metal floor when he walks ^^

I think it could be fun to rp the receiving of the scar and angry dad Wrio, but it’s up to you!

Other notes:

If you wanted to bring up crushes or anything of the sort, I mainly ship him with Freminet, but you can be random with it if you want - ships I’m willing to consider are with Chongyun, Gaming or Wanderer

He’s sort of age-ambiguous? Not really sure. I’ll say his range is like, 16-20

Pyro vision! With a special casing because he recieved it while standing on the conjoining points of Sumeru, Natlan and Fontaine, and also bc he recieved the Vision from the Pyro sovereign itself.

His markings are face paint that he likes to do (other than his scars and lil birth mark under his mouth)

I think thats all! You can visit the blog for deeper analysis, sorry for the long post!

((OOC))

whoahg! Wriothesely blog!!

Hi mod, idk if you like OC interactions or not, but I have an OC (not on this blog) who has Wrio as a father figure

Please lmk if silly father/(adopted) son interactions interest you!!

// Hi there, Bailey! I think that sounds absolutely awesome! I am totally up for that! Feel free to share more about the OC if you have them developed enough! I just made my first Oc so I’m all up for ranting, goodness knows I’ve done my fair share of that!! <3