#ill be on those asks and sharing my BRAIN soon!

[buuniebaby]

You and hamzah being flirty friends but not ever doing anything until one night when yall hangout everything changes!!

NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER. 🎀

includes: fluff! for the first time on my page lawll sorry for being a hoe for dis man. cc!reader oo

it’s not until late in the night when it hits you - an ache, deep in your chest, taking the breath out of you whenever you’re in his presence.

fuck.

you’re in love.

it’s no secret to anybody that you and hamzah have.. tension. sure, you guys play it up a little when you’re on camera or around friends, but there’s always been some sincerity deep down. at least, on your side.

that’s you’re only problem; you’re not sure if hamzah truly shares that sort of unspoken understanding. you find yourself overanalyzing every little joke he makes here and there, the way he acts around you, and even the way he acts around his other friends. he doesn’t jokingly flirt that way with martin is what your brain tells you, feeding into your delusions.

you’re snapped out of your train of thought by hamzah sliding into the chair next to you, pulling his phone out and setting it up on the table. speak of the devil.

“..what are you doing?” you say, watching as he opens tiktok. you shiver when his thigh grazes over your smooth, just-shaved legs as he turns to look at you, enthusiastically.

“me and martin are gonna do a tiktok live. i figured you would wanna be in it, or you could just like, exist on the side.” you roll your eyes at him, but your heart warms a little at the way he automatically included you, even without asking.

“oh, ok.. sure. it’s less fun when martin isn’t in the same room as you though.” you playfully joke, a grin beginning to form on both of your faces.

“i like having you here more than martin, don’t worry.” is all he says back. you think you feel yourself twitch at that.

when the live starts, donations are immediately rolling in. as soon as he sees one of those filter donations pop up, he’s grabbing the phone and making sure it’s focused on you so you’re the one with the stupid filter on your face instead of him. every. single. time. you roll your eyes, but you know you’re not annoyed by it.

as you two continue to stream along with martin, the chat begins to feel the same way as you do. every little “are they dating??” or “y/n back off hes mine” gives you a twisted feeling of satisfaction. it’s taking so much energy out of you to not just kiss him right then and there.

eventually, martin gets off, but hamzah wants to stay on live. he eventually finds himself requesting to join random people’s lives. especially… little kids who are probably too young to be on tiktok.

you guys end up doing tiktok “battles” against a little boy who doesn’t look a day over 12. it’s funny, until the kid asks a question that really makes you feel crazy.

“is that your girlfriend?” is all you hear before your eyes widen. yet before you can even panic, hamzah is already cutting you off.

“yeah.”

holy fuck.

“we’re actually in a throuple, our boyfriend isn’t here right now.”

nevermind.

even if he’s obviously joking, the thought of hamzah calling you his girlfriend so casually feels so right. you can imagine him introducing you as his, being your man-

“bro, you’re lying. kiss her right now and ill believe you.” says the kid, snapping you out of your daydreams.

immediately, a loud “WOAAHH” comes from hamzah, laughing at the shocking comment from the kid on the other side of the screen.

“five bucks bro, five bucks if you kiss her.”

your cheeks are on fire right now - you feel like if you looked in the mirror, you’d probably look like you just came from a beach day in the middle of arizona. you know hamzah isn’t going to actually kiss you, but the way he’s awkwardly laughing and looking down at you really-

holy shit.

he just kissed you.

HAMZAH JUST KISSED YOU?

it’s a quick kiss, a simple peck on the lips, but it feels like forever as he grabs your face and leans in. you aren’t even processing what just happened yet. he just.. kissed you? on live?

you watch as the chat panics just as much as you are. “HUHH??” and “I KNEWW HE LIKED HER OMG” is all you can see as you stare at the phone with your mouth open. even hamzah seems a little shocked with himself too, as he quickly ends the live without saying anything.

you two sit there in silence for a second.

“what just.. happened?” you ask, making eye contact with him. because genuinely, what the fuck just happened.

his immediate reaction is to rapidly apologize. a series of “fuck- I shouldn’t have- not in front of viewers- im sorry-“ is all you hear before you shut him up and kiss him again.

there’s passion in this kiss, lasting longer than the first one. your hands wrap around his neck, gently caressing it with your fingers.

as you pull away, he just stares at you, breathless.

“i’ve wanted this for so, so long hamzah.”

[cardo-de-comer]

Hi Cardo, I've just read on twitter that you've been ill lately and struggling with depression. I wanted to send you strength and I hope things get better for you soon.

I love your art so much and it always brings me joy to see your illustrations on my timeline. you're truly one of my favourite artists and I love your use of colour, I love your compositions, how intriguing your characters are... I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like there's an entire mythology behind every single one of your illustrations, and I find that fascinating.

I've had one of your illustrations as a wallpaper for my latpop for like a month now, and everytime I switch my laptop on to do work, it brings me joy because I see your beautiful art, even if I'm not motivated to do work. A few people sitting next to me in the library/other places have seen my screen and they've told me the illustration is really cool. Someone even asked me where I the illustration is from, so I know I'm not the only one who enjoys it.

Anyway, I truly hope you feel better soon. I struggle with anxiety myself, so I know those things don't magically go away, but at least I hope you can have easier days —more tolerable ones.

Stay safe and thank you for creating your art and sharing it with the world. Some of us really enjoy seeing it and it does make a difference :)

hey! well this kinda hit me like a truck but in a positive way. :_)

i don't even know how to thank you properly in a way that shows my gratitude, like i want to thank you for reaching out and writing all this and i still cannot wrap my head around the fact that. there's people who look at my art like daily or it makes them feel things... it means a lot to me really, that's one of the reasons to try and not give up just yet. i don't like sharing my mental problems online bc i figured that's not what ppl wanna see but sometimes it's getting so bad i stop caring for a moment. it was a rough month and idk if it's getting better but i always find some escape in art. as i said before, i won't stop drawing until the end and i feel like it's worth it when i hear from someone that they really like what i do. idk where i'm going with this, my brain is fried today with meds and i start to ramble but once again thank you for your words and i hope you have a nice week <3

[ticklishprincey]

A New Kind Of Coffee

Can you tell that I'm hyperfixated on Helluva Boss? Like holy shit this freaking show has a CHOKEHOLD on me in the best way possible. Also there's like two fics of Asmodeus and Fizz which has me very upset so here's to satisfying my brain. Warning for implied depression, sex joke mention (passively like one time) implied eating disorders (not really but refusing food nonetheless) implied mental illness Fizz is having one of "those days" again, but luckily his beloved boyfriend is here to cheer him up! THIS IS PURELY SFW ALL NSFW DNI OR I WILL THROW A BIBLE AT YOU!!! (I’m not religious but damn some of y'all need jesus) Fizzarolli was tired. No, not the physical "I need to sleep tired" kind of tired. He was the mentally drained type of tired, like "I need to collapse in bed and never get up" kind of tired. But of course, he has to keep up his image of the clown that never shuts the fuck up and blows air horns in everyone's face, because what was he if not energetic? After a day of fake smiles and half-hearted sex jokes, the clown collapsed into the bed Asmodeus and him shared. He was absolutely exhausted. Nothing he did excited him. He was tired, drained, and depressed. Asmodeus, despite being the busy sin that he was, noticed. He was worried for his beloved imp, but knew he would never open up when there was work to be done or people around. Normally Fizz would be tired after a stressful day, but this was different. He had turned down any form of affection, which was not like him. He had refused to eat all day, even when Asmodeus had offered to take them out to his favorite burger place. This was more than troublesome to the sin. A gentle knock at their shared bedroom caused Fizzarolli to look up from where his head had been buried in a pillow. "You don't gotta knock, Ozz, it's your room too." The clown responded, burying his head back into the pillow. Asmodeus nodded, coming in and gently shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bed next to Fizz, laying a gentle hand on his boyfriend's back as he looked down at the imp in concern. "Fizzy Frog, what's wrong? You haven't been yourself today." The clown responded with a simple grunt. This wouldn't do. "Talk to me, love, what's on your mind?" Another grunt. Asmodeus sighed and ran his hand softly up and down Fizzarolli's back in an attempt to comfort him, startled when he received a muffled squeak in response. "Darling? What's the matter- Oh, my dear Fizzy, are you ticklish~?" To say the clown was embarrassed would be an understatement. Another squeak, then his head popped up from the pillow, a bright red blush ever so present on his face. "N-No! Why do you aSK!?" The sin chuckled as his boyfriend's sentence was cut short by his own squeal. Asmodeus ran his fingers up and down the sensitive spine, reveling in this newfound laughter which he had missed in the stressful work hours. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because your little squeals and giggles give you away oh-so easily~" Fizzarolli squeaked again, giggles pouring freely out of his mouth as he rolled over onto his back to try and escape the teasing hands. "Ah-ah-ah! Let's see how ticklish this little tummy is, shall we?" Despite the protests of his boyfriend through bubbly giggles, Asmodeus dug into the soft belly, awarded by the excited and bubbly laughter he had been looking for. "BAhAahAhBE!! CuhuHuhut iT OuHuhuT!!!" Asmodeus simply chuckled and kept up his attack, only to rest his hand on Fizzarolli's stomach. "Do you know what a tickle monster's favorite food is?" The clown squirmed and giggled before it even happened, releasing a loud squeal followed by

bubbly laughter as his lover bent down and blew a raspberry directly onto his belly button, his robot appendages rendered useless against the attack as they flailed left and right. "OHOHOZZIE WAHAHAIT STAHAHAHAHAP!!!" The attack stopped as soon as it had begun, replaced by the larger demon scooping his lover into his arms and cuddling him close to his chest. "Feeling better, Fizzy-Pop?" The clown nodded, resting his head on Asmodeus' chest before mumbling quietly, but the sin heard every word. "Thank you for loving me, Ozzie."

[purplebehittindifferent]

FAQ!!!!

before asking, check this out!

How many comic series do you have?

TLDR: As of currently I have 3!

Reconnecting: my deltarune fan comic. It is completed and the masterpost can be found on my pinned.

SpiderVerse: this is completed… for now. I had more plans but they fell through as the friends I had planned to do them with, left. Link on pinned.

IEYTD: this is just little comics scattered about, masterpost in on my pinned :)

RULE5: coming soon!

(if you would like more masterposts send an ask <3)

Is there going to be more reconnecting??!

TLDR: kind of? vvv

There will be no more COMIC/DRAWN content related to reconnecting (at least no more than the occasional doodle.) but I do plan to keep writing fanfiction on Ao3 to continue the story as long as it will go.

Can I send prompts for fics or art?:

Of course! Just know I might not be able to do them all!

Vivi “enjoyers” can be a bit much… are you comfortable with the way they (we) act?

I’ve decided long ago that Vivi is welcome to any sort of reaction. You are welcome to draw her however you’d like etc etc. as long as you don’t force others to look at it if they would not like, I do not mind what you do for your own enjoyment. Enjoy!

Your art is online and your AO3 is open! aren't you scared AI is going to steal it!?:

TLDR: my ao3 will remain open, my art will always be here vvv

I hate AI stealing creators' content as much as everyone else does. However, more so, I want anyone to be able to access real art. I have selected all of the available options to keep my works from being taken, and am very aware that the only way to keep my work safe on AO3 is to close it to guests. 

It took me, an avid fanfic reader, 4 years to get an Ao3 account. I care more about you guys being able to read what makes you happy and feeds your brain worms, than I care about my writing being stolen for this AI boom we are living in. It would tear me apart if you wanted to access my writing but had to wait so long for an account. 

I do not support AI in any form that replaces human beings, and though I know eventually I may never be able to have my work safe from AI on any platform, I will keep sharing it, and downright refuse to take it down. 

Taking all of my art down in fear of AI will be something I never do. In that way AI will kill me just as much as if it started stealing my work. Art is meant to be seen and shared. They will not take that from us.

I believe there is a group of people who like real artwork and writing made by real people. And I keep my trust in those people to see the value in non AI generated content. 

We will persevere.

Is fanart allowed?

TLDR: YES

SO MUCH YES. I BEG PLEASE PLEASE if you create fan content of my content or content inspired by my content, that is absolutely as long as I am either credited or @ on the post so I can see!!!

Where can I read RULE5?

TLDR: Rule5 isn't released yet!

Rule 5 is my original comic in progress, I have posted teaser art and some concept stuff. The hope is that it will start releasing weekly in early 2025. I am completing all the art first, so that it can have a consistent upload schedule and I can relax for a while. Trust me when I say- I will not shut up once it is available.

I want to make a comic but don't know where to start…

TLDR: DM me!!

My DMs are always open to genuine questions! I've actually spoken with many people who wanted to start their own series and have been told it's been helpful!

Though my biggest advice is GO FOR IT!!!!! The first couple updates might not gain a ton of traction right away, but persevere, keep going, and @ me so I can reblog it to help support you!!!

Are you LGBTQ+?

TLDR: nope :) cishet.

Many people have asked me this lol

Where can I find the masterposts and links to your other socials?

They are all on my pinned!!!

You have mental disorders + illnesses… What are they?

Respectfully it is none of your business. I try to spread awareness because I believe that is very important, but I also try to keep my personal things personal. If i'm ever outright about something, feel free to ask questions, and if i'm uncomfortable I will just say I do not wish to answer <3

How do I commission you?

There is a link on my Ko-Fi that goes to my comms!

 If you have any questions before ordering you can DM me anytime. Click the option you want, order it, and it will give you instructions from there. I check my orders once a day. If you set your order and I have not gotten back to you, please DM me it's possible I missed it.

Do you/will you draw NSFW and post it?

Not here.

Are you really in my walls?

Yep. I'm not kidding. That skittering you hear? It's me. Go hydrate yourself or I'll steal all your left shoes.

I found your work reposted without credit, should I tell you?

Yes please tell me!! I have not found any of my stuff randomly reposted without credit but I'm sure it will happen someday.

What art program do you use?

I use procreate! I highly recommend, as far as the brushes go, I use all of the base ones that come with the app itself. Nothing fancy.

Will you draw my OC?

If you commission me! sure!

if theres any more questions you think should be added here LMK

[acefantasyy]

Thoughts on Vash seeking out physical touch pls?

Like his eyes trailing over your waist as he imagines how you’d feel in his hands, the weight of you perhaps comforting.. or how your breath would feel against his skin, how warm you’d be, etc

✦- Vash x gn. reader

��cw. none that I can think of, just some touch starved content

✦note. I'm so mentally ill over him, I love him to bits an piece the thoughts are endless with this I swear!! 98 vash was in my mind when I wrote this but it could be perceived as 23 vash as well. Thank you for the request chris!! I had lots of fun writing it

✦word count- 1k

••

•There is without a doubt that he is so unbelievably touch starved, he’s been around for such a long time and has been on the run which obviously has left little to no room for him to become close to someone on a level close to romanticity. Well at least that was the case until he met you, a kind soul that didn’t think he was all the rotten things that were being spoken about him and wasn’t afraid to voice it when those harsh words got into the blonde’s head. That had been months ago now since his first meeting with you and when worse came to turn you set out beside him on his travels to the next towns he walked towards despite his multiple attempts to get you to not travel with him.

•And with those travels sometimes came cheap shared inn rooms and shared beds after the two of you continuously fought over who got the bed but disagreeing when the other said they would take the floor and use their sleeping bag. Those nights left the blonde wide awake from the proximity of both your bodies, but mainly the gentle breath’s he felt hit him while you slept and the way your hand would reach out to take hold of his own in the midst of slumber and gently stroke his knuckles with your thumb. Days after that those moments replay endlessly in his mind wondering what it could possibly feel like to hold you in his grasp while the two of you slept peacefully in another rickety hotel bed. He’d aimlessly wondered if you had ever shared his same thoughts too after a long tiring trip across the blazing desert to the next closest town, the constant light brush of your hand against his keeping the endearing thoughts running rampant in his frazzled brain.

•Vash’s thoughts are soon answered though when late one night when the two of you were in separate rooms for safety reason after a particularly dangerous situation involving a group of very angry gunman that tried to use you as leverage to get him to give himself up, your tired form slinking into his room in the dead of night and gently nudging him awake, asking if it was okay if you stayed with him instead of being alone. There’s an instant yes from him before he moves over and holds the dusty comforter up for you to crawl in beside him, your arms instantly wrapping around his middle in a bone crushing hug while you buried your face into his shirt leaving the blonde to keep his hands in the air not knowing what to do with them until you quietly tell him to hold you, which he gladly does, an arm wrapping around you in a gently embrace while the other slowly brushed through the back of your hair in attempt to calm you down the best he could.

•There’s no questions asked after that night from either of you and no more fighting over the bed, you now wordlessly wrapping his arms around you when the two of you laid down at night to sleep. During the nights spent under the stars your usual two sleeping bags are now joined together as one giant one to keep the cold out so you two would stay warmer but in all honesty you both had it in your minds that the real reason was because you didn’t want to sleep without the other. Vash admittingly tells you that he really enjoys being able to hold you close when the two of you sleep because it brings him a strong sense of comfort that he hasn’t really felt before and that he knows that you’d be safe in his arms while you slept the night away. 

•At some point down the road the two of you eventually become an item after a very very long talk late one night about what being in a relationship with vash would be like to him, how it was much different from what the two of you had going on before and what it could possibly lead to in the future. And from that Vash finally tells you the truth about him and the reason why he was on the run and had such a high bounty, it leaves you a little stunned but nonetheless you tell him that it doesn’t change at all how you feel about him and you reassure him for however long it takes, you having him lay on you while you give him heartfelt affirmations all the while you run your fingers through his blonde hair and leave kisses along the crown of his head. He ends up drifting asleep to the sound of your heartbeat that night, the rhythmic thumps sounding like a ever so sweet lullaby to his ears. 

•During the blonde’s darkest moments when everything seems to have gone worse for turn, the nights where he would spend long hours in the bathroom so as not to bother you, they are now spent in your arms on a rickety inn bed. When he voices to you that he feels as if nothing around him is real and that he doesn’t deserve the kindness that he’s received, you're there to ground him in the best way that you can, carefully pressing your weight onto him as you lay on his chest and tell him that everything is in fact real and that he deserves every bit of kindness that is given to him. You let him soak your night shirt in tears that he’s had to keep hidden for so long, and when sobs begin to wrack his body that he can no longer keep silent you press soft kisses to the apples of his cheeks and wipe away his tears with your thumbs. The press of your lips brings him a sense of calm, the plush warm softness making him sigh as his eyelashes flutter to a close.

✦tags. -

[weirdmarioenemies]

Weird Mario Enemies Presents: A Chris Pratt Carol

‘Twas the night before April, when all through the flat,

Not a creature was stirring, except for a Pratt!

Chris Pratt couldn’t sleep, after such a long day,

For his movie premiere was just five days away!

“I’m so excited”, Pratt thought, with a grin on his face,

“For my role as the Mario, I’m definitely an ace!”

But just as Chris had thought those thoughts with his brain,

He soon heard the sounds of a rattling chain…

A scary ghoul appeared right before Pratt’s eyes, 

And its face looked familiar, much to his surprise!

The ghost was Bob Hoskins, it was clear to see,

As he was cast in Super Mario Bros. (1993)!

“Why are you here?” pratted Chris, with a fearful tone,

And the specter replied with a ghostly groan,

“I’m here to warn you, so hear my plea,

If you carry on like this, you’ll end up just like me!”

“This cannot be! Don’t take me for a fool!

Even Miyamoto-san thinks I’m so cool!”

“So it may be, but take a look online...

As the voice for the plumber, they all wish you’d resign!

Anya and Charlie, and Jack Black too,

Not one of them receives as much hate as you!

You’ll be visited tonight by three Mario ghosts, 

From them you must learn, or your career is toast!”

First came the Ghost of Mario Past,

At his brilliant white glow, Chris Pratt lay aghast!

The room was illuminated by his ethereal light, 

Though he was a pro wrestler, he came not for a fight!

The ghost showed him visions of an old cartoon,

In which Mario danced to a familiar tune, 

 The live-action plumber was a certain Paisano, 

Portrayed only by the legend Lou Albano!

“Bah! Humbug!”, scoffed the Pratty Chris,

‘You come to my home just to show me this?’

But despite his attitude, Pratt really knew,

That he didn’t have as much Pasta Power as Lou…

‘Hey paisano, lemme give you a clue, 

Super Mario’s Italian, through and through!

Your bland voice acting just makes me sigh,

At this rate you’ll go to hell, before you die!’

The Ghost of Mario Present arrived as due,

He was heard all through the house, with a resounding ‘wahoo!’

With a torch in his hand and sitting upon a heap of food,

This jolly ghost could only spread his good mood!

The ghost brought Pratt to a world of Wet-Dry,

To a small home with a family that struggled to get by,

The ghost gestured to the window to peek, 

For there Pratt would find a situation most bleak.

A poor uncle and niece shared one measly dish,

But the frail young Spikina held only one wish,

Her beloved Super Mario, she wanted to see,

On the big screen, going ‘yahoo’ and ‘yipee!’

Were she to hear Chris, she’d soon be let down,

Hearing her hero so dull would just make her frown!

If her illness got worse, we’d surely know why,

Chris Pratt would be to blame if she were to Die!

The Ghost of Mario Yet to Come was last, but not least,

For he took the appearance of a demonic beast!

Even Pratt could only tremble in fear,

As this frightening new apparition drew near.

Just as the silence was making Chris choke,

The ghost opened its mouth and spoke, 

“Where is god when you need him?”

And this left Chris Pratt feeling quite grim.

Chris didn’t really know what the spirit had meant,

But he was left with a feeling, a need to repent,

And though it hadn’t spoken of the future at all, 

Just its presence had made Pratt want to bawl!

“O spirits of Mario, I ask that you forgive!

I won’t voice another cartoon, for as long as I live!

I now understand the depth of my sin,

I’ll no longer voice Mario, I simply give in!”

With that, Chris scrambled out of bed with a start,

He dashed to his window with a beating heart. 

From his flat he saw a boy standing outside,

With a small hint of hope, Pratt leaned out and cried:

“You there! What day is to-day?”

“To-day? Why, It’s April Fools Day, sir!”

“April Fools! That means I haven’t missed it! Wahoo!” said Chris Pratt, as he flipped his turtle with joy!

He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived upon the Total Abstinence Principle, ever afterwards; and it was always said of him, that he knew how to keep Mario well, if any man alive possessed the knowledge. May that be truly said of us, and all of us! 

And so, as Tiny Spikina observed, Mario bless Us, Every One!

[magic-is-something-we-create]

2023 recap + 2024 plans

i wrote 261,200 words in 2023; 172,500 of those for Whispers, 88,700 for Goddess-Touched!

i read 16 books to completion, beta'd for an additional 2, am currently reading 3, and got partway through 5 others before having to put them down.

i maintained my streaming schedule with only a handful of emergency-related exceptions, and drew, uh, a shit ton over the course of the year!

writing goals for 2024:

fix Echoseers (full stylistic rewrite, along with some plot tweaks)

finish the first draft of Goddess-Touched (and edit it hardcore as well)

work on as-yet-unnamed book 4 of tms

fix up Whispers with the added feedback of beta readers

start querying Whispers (i'll look into self publishing down the road if i don't end up finding an agent. the way my brain functions i must cling to the hope of not having to market it myself tooth and nail for the time being)

POTENTIALLY. if my brain fixates on it. write the script for The Lost so that i actually have something to work with to make the comic happen

one of my offline friends is starting to get into writing, and im hoping to help them through some of the early rough patches and potentially co-write a thing with them!!

i completely dropped the ball on the weekly writing updates so im gonna try and get back to that on wednesday. and potentially get back into the weekly ask games!

non-writing goals for 2024:

youtube. i want to make speedpaints and worldbuilding videos and shit. ive already made the basic animation stuff to have a lil sona to do the gesturing for me and i know how to make videos i just havent done it in a While

twitch!! i want to stream a bit more often because its fun and if i let myself branch out into video games as well as art itll be easier to do that. u might see me streaming in the evenings sometime soon. (psst im not streaming this weekend as im still doing a shit ton of holiday/social stuff but the weekend of the 13th ill be back to both patreon and twitch baybee)

SPEAKING OF i want to get my shit together enough to do like. monthly short story releases for my patrons/ko-fi members. early access, that is, so if i post one in january, it'll be posted here a month or two later for all to see/read

i want to read as many books as i did in 2023, if not more! im also considering adding book reviews/thoughts to youtube or patreon/ko-fi perks

my weekend hiatuses aren't going anywhere. having time where im not actively engaging with tumblr + don't feel obligated to do Anything online has done wonders for my mental health and i highly recommend it. focus mode on my phone and leechblock on desktop has helped so so so much

and that's all i'm sharing here!! i hope 2024 is a better year for all than the last <3

[basketsys]

We're sick so I wrote a stand up comedy script about being a system called "Late night insomnia (and fever) driven system themed stand up comedy" or just "Dudes Inside Disorder"

[Sources from some jokes are in the bottom of the post, if you click any of the little numbers they will send you to the original Google document I used for writing]

Hello and welcome to this mess of a show, my legal name is unimportant since you are not the government to be concerned about it but you guys can call this sack of meat and bones “Basket” or “Basket System” if you want to quote on quote full name us. A little background about that name, it is supposed to be more like one of those baskets that you often find in farmer markets full of fruits and berries and stuff, but you can kinda also see it as a dirty laundry basket too because, to be fair, these clothes? They stink a bit now, you just can't smell from your chairs which is probably better for the sake of both of us.

You didn't need to know that but, oh well, I'm already over sharing tonight, what a little more to throw at the mix.

If you don't know what a system is, don't worry, I will explain, a system is a little silly thing the human brain does where it gives you silly guys to live with inside your brain alongside you. And if you're already thinking “I never met a system before nor heard about one ever” then it might be because of 1 out of 3 reasons: Either a. You must really live along with people without trauma or problems which, good for you, b. We only tell very close friends or partners about this kind of stuff so someone might not want to cause problems in the relationship or something along those lines, or c. Damn, you might be the problem. Like sincerely, you must be the reason why we don't talk about it so openly and only so secretly and we have to be like the LGBTQ community almost getting out of the closet and all that.

And honestly if you are the type of guy that heard about the people in your head stuff and immediately thought “Oh like that one movie, Shattered” then yes you are the problem so me and my other 50 friends are coming for you, except that when I mean my other 50 friends I really mean 1 body with 50 people in their frontal lobe.

Because really, get that movie out of the way, the people who did it are hated so much by thousands of people who actually suffer from this, including us. So let's clear up what a system really is like.

Being a system is more like living in a house with so many roommates you lost count and also almost never see and then one day you go to the fridge to get that one snack that you were saving for later, and then going to said fridge and not finding it and immediately screaming “WHO THE FUCK ATE MY SNACK?!” except you scream it internally and not out loud in front of your parents who are already disappointed in the fact that you either keep saying that you can't remember your childhood, which I'm sure they worked so fucking hard to give you a memorable one (/s, shaking head, dead stare), or the fact that you are a little too fruity for them and you don't want them to know so soon how mentally ill you actually are. And after that you just start planning murder and then suddenly and without any notice you just hear someone behind you saying “Calm down, it's fine, we can get it later, it's no worry” and you're just there mid planning going “When the fuck did you fucking appear? Like dude, at least make a little sound. Also this is my problem, it doesn't concern you.” and the guy just responds with “It does concern me because in fact you're planning on murdering my son. You're planning the murder of 6-year-old Timmy here over a snack.” and then you just don't know how to feel, either you feel like an asshole or you still keep going on with your plans because technically they can't put you in jail for beating the shit out of a child that resides inside your frontal lobe.

Yeah, just to be safe, never ask a system what crimes have been committed inside that brain, because in fact, it might be a lot. Some might even say arson and you'll be so glad that the fire 10-year-old Sarah did was in a safe space and not in a forest unlike a middle-aged singlet woman making a baby shower.

Oh, right yeah I haven't talked about how we call you guys, right. Systems refers to normal people as “singlets”, comes from the word “singular”. Yeah we have to pretend we are singlets a lot. Either it's school, a job, social media even, Thanksgiving, Christmas, for government papers like a birth certificate, imagine if the government creates a law for systems where we have to update the birth certificate everytime we get a new silly guy in the headband they just attach the list of names and date of splitting to the already 1 page long certificate using tape or staples, the list would be fucking endless and we would contribute a fucking lot to global warming. It's not like we even care about the headcount a lot, we also sometimes don't keep count of how many people are in this sack of bones and meat. Also it's hilarious when you start talking about introjects because you might as well be committing either illegal cloning or identity theft in the eyes of the government, so. Yeah better to not keep track of the infinite amounts of Wilbur Soot's in every system and how many each body has as well, they would end each shift like “How many Wilbur's did you count today?” “Today was a chill day, only 22. Like 5 different bodies, it was cool. One of them was trans I think.” like it's no longer ‘How much did they pay you this week?’ it's ‘How many times did you have to press ctrl+v this evening?’.

The government would be like “You wouldn't download a movie” or even “You wouldn't download a car”, well, guess what bitch, I fucking downloaded a car and his fucking name is Lighting McQueen.[1]

Honesty sometimes I feel like introjects are like Rule 34 even, if there's a character there's an introject, especially if there's a lot of attention on that media, oh boy. I'm just gonna say, the quantity of Marvel introjects I've seen, even worse than when DSMP was popularized. For you who are not zoomers, that's something off the internet which was basically a theater club to say the least, don't ask, you don't wanna know, you don't ask more questions about it nor say why did Dream actually needed to stay in jail forever because if you do you're gonna get doxxed. And it's not fun, look at us we change identity every random amount of time because of this exact same thing. Just kidding it is not because of that, it's because someone was mean to us at the ripe age of 8, so now we're fucked up mentally[2] (with an up-beat voice). Now, we're 15 fuckers in a trench coat with one goal, taking a nap, and also trying to figure out who ate the last of the fettuccine Alfredo. I'm looking at you, Alejandro. (looking at nothing) You could've just left a note. I won't be mad for eating my leftovers (nodding at audience while mouthing “Yes, I will” )

What's also fun about this (whisper: “it is not, not really”) is that, you don't only get DID, the “Dudes Inside” Disorder, you also get a fun little combo of other mental illnesses so you don't miss out on the offer, like a McDonald's promotion where you just pay $2 extra and get something else, the same here, you get a little bit more fucked up and you get a new guy and a mental disorder, like ADHD, autism, OCD, BPD, Bipolar, PTSD, anxiety, the whole DSM-5 diagnosis criteria. Like yeah they can come free with your new guy, even bundle up and the newbie could also be like “Oh my God, I wanna front and experience life like I have never been more alive” a then when they experience life and also with the several other disorders and even sometimes disabilities that the body can have they're just like “…I don't want to be here anymore, I wanna go home” and then there's the one alter who's been there for the last 5 years just looking from afar and saying “You must be new here, welcome to hell” like an old war veteran while they're just, what, 17?

And then you do the math and realize “Goddamn that 17-year-old was 12 when they appeared” and to that I say, and in complete honesty, the people that can appear can already come pre-traumatized like a pre-cooked meal that you just pop into the microwave. It's no longer “I can fix him” now it's “I will get him so he goes to therapy himself”.[3] I got that one off system Tumblr, it's fine the amnesia will make them forget they ever did that joke. Also, you're not even the one checking what's available in the alter market, the brain just looks and analyzes the world like a menu like “What do I need at this moment, a medium ugly half dead man? No, too fruity. Boy failure male wife wet cat? Too pathetic. An intergalactic teenager from another species, a completely different civilization with completely different culture, skin colour, inhumane features and an asshole personality? (Gasp) Yeah I'll get that. Excuse me, I'll get the Karkat Vantas, directly from Homestuck, don't do any of those fancy AU stuff, I'll get the original. Can I make that a combo? Yeah, give me the social anxiety, extra shake. Want this to get called a nervous system[4] instead of whatever name they made up for themselves, thanks”

Another thing that also changes a lot is how you consume content, either a song, a series, movie, you name it. You guys are just out there saying “I want to watch this movie” let's take Penguins of Madagascar as an example, and you just get through the movie, silly movie, funny even, you enjoyed it and then never think about it again until that one night you're scrolling Netflix, great. But as a system? Oh boy.

As a system, you have to pray to finish the movie sometimes. Either someone else wanted to see the movie too and can be a child or an adult so now either they kicked you or you're getting a friend to chat with during the movie, sometimes even babysit but everything cool, you finish the movie and mission accomplished, you survived.

Or also what can happen is a secret third thing which we all just sweat cold at night. If you get through the movie, amazing, you made it, now pray so Riko doesn't follow you home like a demon attached to you, don't matter which fucking God you have to pray to, even if it's the angel inside your brain you got from reading the fucking Bible back when you were on Sunday school or fucking Zeus, you just do. You're atheist? Not anymore, you need all celestial help you can get so he doesn't appear ever. You heard his voice? No you fucking didn't. Just keep walking. You don't wanna hear it from the host, or the system manager, asking when and how did we get an arsonist terrorist spy penguin that can puke bombs at will and also doesn't communicate very well. Anyways, just smile and wave…wait, NO.

One last thing I want to talk about is how diverse sometimes the alters in systems can get, they can be transgender, cisgender, human, non-human, straight up animals, demons, angels, a fucked up drawing you did when you were 12, anything. And also leaves the room for them to be part of the LGBTQ community and also form families and relationships in the same system.

For example, remember Timmy? The 7-year-old about to be murdered? And how this guy just said “That's my child?” yeah, we just, start saying shit like that, sometimes is because of the memories that they have before forming or it can be just because they saw a child and said “Yoink, now you're my son” like there's a 50/50. But a lot of systems consider each other family and that's actually very nice. Even internal dating happens, genuinely. Which yeah, it is already pretty fruity to have silly little guys inside you, now they're actually gay?[5] Damn, okay box of fruit loops, we get it, calm down. That's actually what one of our singlet friends told us when I explained my relationship with my fucking husband which lives with me in the same frontal lobe, and to be fair, he's right, if we actually bought each one of them their own pride flag we would be broke in no time, like. It was to pick a single struggle, not to grab a handful of them. It said it on the sign “Take one”.

Moving on, you know, hopefully I live long enough to see a system meeting expo-like event, I want to see the posting of the event saying something like "Thank you for coming to our meeting! We had a thousand attendees in this event" and then someone as an outsider just saw like 6 different bodies in front of a Starbucks.

Some references:

[1] Came with this one with a friend system

[2] Sysblr

[3] Sysblr

[4] Sysblr

[5] Close singlet friend

[triumphantfury]

Hi!!! Just dropping by because I was missing your fics so I reread them and now I have to tell you how much I love you. I love you a lot, by the way. Like literally every time I read a chapter of yours I love you more because GAH the writing is so damn good. Ahem anyways thank you so much for the update on Wrapped in Red and I still have to fan myself every time I look at Upside, but I've been thinking the most about "To Suffer a Witch." I don't mean to put any pressure on you or anything but may I inquire on the next chapter's status? Or perhaps just request a snippet? Also when you asked the readers whether or not they'd like an eventual lemon I'd like to vote yes to the lemon. Please. Possibly-Demon Hiccup is hot as hell and I'm greedy. 😅

Thank you so much for sharing your wonderful writing with us and I hope you have a wonderful day, week, and at least a virtual cabin in the woods where you can relax, read, and at least think on writing!

Oh boy….

It’s taken me forever to get around to answering this ask, but as the new chapter update is almost complete (after way, WAY too many rewrites), I feel like I can finally post this reply with some measure of confidence. Sorry it’s taken so long. I wish I had a good excuse, but my brain sometimes just shuts me out.

Anyway, after much anticipation, and likely a little cursing, here’s an excerpt from the soon to be posted next chapter of TSaW:

*The next couple days seemed to drag by for Astrid. She felt trapped between a longing to see Hiccup again just to prove she wasn’t mad, and a strong urge to just write it all off as a delusion. Perhaps one brought on by some bad grain or curdled milk. Countless times she’d been sure she heard hoofbeats outside, only to have them grow into a roll of thunder the next second. Or she’d catch a glimpse of a dark shadow approaching on the road, only to have it melt from her sight a moment later as if swept away by the driving rain.

Some small part of her was starting to worry she was actually going mad. Her mood darkening as she channeled her other feelings into straight anger so as to help herself deal with it better. It wasn’t as if she could really speak of it to anyone, anyway. She was still too confused about it herself.

Resigned to bear this burden alone, Astrid had kept to herself as much as possible while trapped inside. Waiting impatiently for a break in the weather when she could distract herself with repairs outside instead. The Lord knows there was always plenty of work to keep her busy. That, and manual labour was better than wasting time dwelling on… Whatever it was that had occurred here the other night.

Fortunately - or maybe unfortunately - she’d soon discovered that the storm hadn’t done anywhere near as much damage as she’d expected given its ferocity. The house, shed, and barn had all weathered fair enough at least. An old tree had toppled near the back of the pasture though. She’d gone out to repair the section of broken fencing yesterday. Her brothers helping her as much as she would allow them to - which mostly meant keeping the opportunistic goats from escaping through the hole while she worked.

It had been while she was winding the last of the rope around the newly set post that Ruffnut had approached her from across the field. Somehow always keyed in to the local to-dos, Tuffnut had heard from one of their other neighbours that some people had started to fall ill in town. The worst of which was little Argh — Mr. and Mrs. Ack’s youngest son, who was not yet a full year into this world.

“Gunnar thinks it’s because of those witches that Trader Johan was talking about the other day,” Ruff stage-whispered over the fence. Her thumb gesturing towards the home on the far side of Mildew’s plot as she glanced around, as if to make sure no one else was within earshot.

“I’d be rather foolish to agree,” Astrid huffed. “It’s likely just been brought on by the rain. We all know that a chill in the air today sets a chill in the bones tomorrow.” Looking away from her gossipy neighbour, she dressed the knot as her father had taught her before pulling it good and tight. Then she stood and gave her work a proud once over. Nodding, as if to show her approval to the craftsman.

“Maybe…” Ruffnut’s hesitant reply trailed off thoughtfully, and she was chewing on her lip when Astrid at last looked her way again. It was almost as if she had something she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if she should speak it aloud.

“Go on,” Astrid grumbled. “Whatever it is, spit it out.”

“Well, Gunnar told Tuff that Trader Johan said the evil, or what ever it is, would arrive first in the form of a black shadow on horse back…”

“Trader Johan has always enjoyed adding plenty of dramatic nonsense about ghosties, ghoulies, and other such things to his tales,” Astrid felt the need to point out. “He seems to think it makes the stories more exciting.”

“I know,” Ruff agreed. “Thing is, Tuffnut swears he saw a stranger dressed in all black when he was out in the woods yesterday. A stranger riding atop a huge black horse. When he tried to get a better look, man and horse were already gone. Maybe the horse was just really fast, but… Tuff said it gave him the creeps.” Her eyes were shifting all around again as she leaned closer over the fence, and she looked unexpectedly nervous.

“Oh, that was probably just…” Astrid’s words died on the way to her mouth as she thought better of it.

Astrid knew how Tuff felt. The unease of not being sure exactly what you had just born witness too. This did not mean that she should necessarily encourage him to repeat his tale. Especially when she didn’t yet know what to think of the whole thing.

Would it truly be wise to mention it to someone else? The twins had never been known for their discretion, and Astrid’s words would simply confirm Tuff’s suspicions — which he would then feel required to share with every person he came across. At best, it could cause a slight scandal that a young man had spent the night in their home. At worst, the superstitious townsfolk may think the Hofferson clan had entertained something entirely inhuman, instead.

No, it was best to keep what she knew of Hiccup Haddock to herself for now. Surely the others would learn of him soon enough. “Just… because Tuff was busy snacking on unknown mushrooms in the forest again.” Astrid finished awkwardly. Covering her near slip-up with an eye roll, just to be safe, and hoping Ruffnut wouldn’t notice.*

If anyone wants to read it, here’s a link to the rest of the story. Or at least the beginning…lol

[witchersmistress]

Heads You Lose

Hello my darlings!! here is part two to Tails you win. https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/716840196299276288/tails-you-win?source=share

Ive linked part 1 for those who have missed it or havent read it.

Warning: Blood, violence, death and gun shot wounds.

Word count: 9.8k

my usual warning, you do not have my permission to copy or use my work in anyway, if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days!!

Propbably gramatical errors and typos but i type to fast for my own good lol

Name pronounciatuion for the FMC : her given name is Saorise, Sheer-sha, in Irish-Gaelic means freedom

Her nickname, gifted to her at a young age by Syverson: Louhi, Lo-hee, Finnish origin, she is the goddess of Death and Disease.

“People like you and me don’t get to love…” 

Those are the words that play on repeat inside my head as I stagger to my feet, blood seeping from the bullet wound just below my right shoulder and mixing with the drying blood already covering my body. I don’t feel the pain from it. On the contrary, I’m numb to everything bar Saoirse’s words. People like you and me…

Don’t get to love… 

Don’t. Get. To. Love…

 She’s right in a way, but not entirely. It’s true that the likes of us don’t get to love without fear. When you mix with the people we do, you gain enemies. Even the friends you think you have can turn against you on a penny if the price is right. Look at the King - he was ‘friends’ with Carter, but he took the opportunity to take him out the moment it was offered.

I took out my boss without a second thought.

 Granted it was to protect the woman I love from her very own dad, but she doesn’t know that, and I can’t tell her. 

Not yet, anyway. But one thing I do know with absolute certainty is that I do get to love. And I never thought that was possible for me. Yeah, it’s dangerous to love when it can be held against you, but it doesn’t make it any less true. If I know anything about myself, it’s this: I won’t give up on our love. I refuse to, because what the fuck kind of man would I be to turn my back on something so fundamental to my very existence? A fucking pussy, that’s what, and if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a pussy.

 I won’t give up on our love. Not now, not ever.

Lifting my head, I meet Saoirse’s hard stare with that promise burning in my veins. But right now, no matter what I say, I know it won’t make a difference. Saoirse might love me, but Louhi has to make a stand. We both know that. Shooting me was her only choice given the circumstances. Closing herself off, shutting down, was her only option. I don’t fight it, I can’t fight it, but most importantly, I won’t. “Get. Out!” she snarls, the slightest flicker of regret in her eyes the only sign that beneath the pain, betrayal and disappointment, she still cares for me. 

That Saoirse is still there inside of Louhi, who stands before me now. “I said, get the fuck out!” I ignore Rodriguez’s laugh. I ignore the King’s smirk. I ignore Dom asking Saoirse to reconsider. Instead, I lower my head in acquiesce. I raise my hand and place it over my heart, over the tattoo of her handprint embedded in my skin and vow to myself that I will find a way to protect her from afar, no matter what. With one last look at Saoirse that I hope conveys all the love and affection I feel for her, I twist on my feet and stagger towards the exit, my gaze falling to Dom as I reach the door.

“Take care of her,” I bite out through gritted teeth, fighting the darkness that’s threatening to drag me under. He nods. “You can count on me, Sy.” 

*Hours later*

“Fuck me sideways!” Connall exclaims as I blink back the heavy fog of sleep and try to get my bearings. “Where am I?” I ask, groaning as I try to sit up. Bright white light pricks my eyes like a bullet straight to my brain, and I lift my hand to my head, feeling my scalp where Derby whacked me, hissing when I feel the tender skin and the stitches there.

 “Joey’s place. He’s fixed you up. Got you on a drip as soon as we arrived and gave you a couple pints of blood. There was a moment I thought we’d lose you.” “I’m hard to lose,” I reply, giving him a weak smile. “But man, do I feel like shit.” “You look like shit too,” Joey says, stepping into his makeshift operating theater and giving me a toothy grin, antiseptic and the scent of car oil following him into the room. The amount of times I’ve been in the back of his garage getting fixed up is crazy, though to be fair, he keeps this room spotless. I mean, I haven’t died of my injuries or a nasty infection yet. That’s got to count for something, right? Thank god for old ranger buddies. “Thanks, old man,” I reply, easing myself upright on the gurney. It creaks under my weight, and I feel every single bit of pain now that the adrenaline has worn off.

 Damn, I could up chuck. Swallowing back the queasiness, I wait for the room to stop spinning. “What’s the damage?” Connall asks, frowning as he stares at me. I have a vague recollection of calling him for help, but other than that I remember nothing after stepping outside of the club. He’s a good man, one I can count on.

The fucking best. “Couple broken ribs, lots of bruising,” Joey says, drawing some clear liquid from a vial into a needle. He pulls it free, presses the plunger to get rid of any air bubbles, then stabs me in the bicep with it, dispensing the liquid. “I fucking hope that’s painkillers,” I say, trying to laugh but failing. He nods, pulling the needle free before throwing it in the medical waste bin. “I got you, pal.” “What else?” Connall urges impatiently.

 “The gash to his head was pretty fucking deep. I’ve sewn it up but you’ll need to keep an eye on him over the next few days. He was concussed pretty badly, and there’s always a danger of bleeding into the skull or swelling on the brain, but I think we’re good where that’s concerned.”

 Connall swipes a hand through his hair. “You think?” “Well, short of getting Sy into the hospital for a CT scan, I can’t say any better than that.”

 “No hospitals,” I say firmly. “Don’t need the law on my ass for offing Carter-fucking-Davidson.” 

“You what?!” Connall exclaims, looking from me to Joey. “Did you know about this?” “First I’ve heard,” Joey says, casting a look my way. He knows I had my suspicions about Carter and his relationship with the King, so I imagine he’s putting two and two together and coming up with a pretty good assumption about what went down. “Jesus fuck, Syverson! What the hell happened last night?” “Last night?” I have a question. “How long have I been out?” “Ten hours, but stop avoiding the fucking question. Spill. I need to know so that I can give the family a head’s up. If a war is coming, they’ll want to back you.” “There’ll be no war. We’re leaving.”

“You and Louhi?” Joey asks, even though I’m pretty fucking sure it’s a trick question given she ain’t here and he’s not fucking stupid. “No.” I shake my head, ignoring the pain in my chest that isn’t coming from my bullet wound, but is most definitely coming from my heart. I look at Connall. “When I said we, I was kind of hoping you’d come with me.” “Me? Go where, exactly? And what about Louhi?” “Saoirse was the one who shot me,” I explained, leaning my head back against the gurney. Joey whistles and Connall’s mouth drops open in shock. “Wait, back the fuck up a minute,” he says scraping a hand over his face. “You killed Carter Davidson and Louhi shot you for it?”

 “Pretty much,” I replied.

 “But she’s in love with you,” he counters.

 “He’s her dad, Connall.”

 “And clearly a prick given you killed him. You don’t need to tell me what he’s done for me to know you’d only ever off your boss because he’s done something unforgivable. So, I’ll ask again. Why would Louhi shoot you when we all know that girl is head over heels in love with you?”

 I heave out a sigh. “I wish I could say that was still true.” “Are you still in love with her?” Joey asks me pointedly.

“Yes.”

 “Jesus, Mary and Joseph! She shot you, Logan. Are you gone in the head?” Connall yells, shaking his head in frustration. “You know what, don’t fucking answer that.” “So you’re running?” Joey asks, moving the conversation along. “It’s complicated.” “So UN-complicate it for us because as much as I like Louhi, I don’t like the fact she nearly killed you and you’re leaving like a beat-down dog.” “Number fucking one, I’m not a beat-down dog!

 Number fucking two, if she wanted me dead, I’d be dead. We were five feet apart, there is no way she would’ve missed from that distance. No fucking way,” I say, pointing to my bandaged shoulder. “He’s right. Even if she wasn’t a trained markswoman, which I understand that she is, there’d be no missing. So do you want to tell us why you killed Carter?” Joey asks. “Because the cunt was going to use her to pay off his debts to the King.” “The fuck you say?!” Connall yells. “You heard me. Carter got into a lot of trouble fucking his way around the escorts at The Crib Club, not to mention racking up a substantial gambling debt. I found out about his plans and made the King a better offer.” 

Drawing in a deep breath to fend off the queasiness, I continue, “I would kill Carter if he backed the fuck off from Saoirse. He agreed, providing I stay quiet about his involvement, and he could remain a silent partner in the club.”

 “The conniving bastard. Why didn’t you just kill the cunt as well?” Connall asks. “Because, as you well know, he’s powerful. Much more powerful than me on my jack jones and far more powerful than one woman with a dead dad. She needs him… For now.” “And you’re okay with that?” Joey asks this time. “Of course I’m not, but equally she’s backed into a corner. The King has a forty-eight percent share in the club, he has a big army behind him and lots of fucking connections. 

She can’t go up against him. This way she keeps his protection and a share in the club whilst she establishes herself, and we find a way out of this mess.” “And you believe he won’t go back on his word the minute you're gone, and take her for himself?” “I know he won’t. Saoirse shooting me proved she’s tough enough to run the club. Besides, the King doesn’t want a woman who’ll fucking shoot him when he tries to raise a hand to her. Saoirse is too much of a handful, and one he ain’t willing to mess with, thank fuck.”

“So let me get this straight,” Connall tries to rationalize, pacing up and down as he gets all the information straight in his head. “Carter was in debt so he goes to the King for a loan, the payment of which is his own fucking daughter and a share in the club.” “Yes,” I say, the pain in my head, shoulder and ribs easing a little now the medication is doing its job. Doesn’t stop the ache in my heart though, or the constant feeling of nausea when I’m reminded of how Saoirse had looked at me as though I’d broken her heart as surely as her banishing me had broken mine. She had to do it, I don’t fucking blame her for it, but it still fucking hurts.

 “You find out and cut another deal with the King,” Connall continues, “You kill Carter and the King backs off from Louhi, acting as what, a silent partner in the club?” “Precisely, he’s also got connections with some of the best clubs in the world. He can bring in the fighters. She’s smart, she’ll grow the business, and won’t throw it down the drain alongside whisky and stripper cum like her dad did.” Connall raises his brow at that. We both know Carter wasn’t the type of man who cared about a woman’s pleasure over his own. “Turn of phrase,” I mumble.

“So the King gets to sit back and reap the benefits whilst you take the blame for killing Carter, am I close?” “I don’t know about that part. That all depends on what happens now, but I’m not sticking around to find out whether Saoirse grasses on me. Though I wouldn’t fucking blame her if she did.” “She won’t,” Joey says, sounding far more certain than I feel. “And you know how?” Connall asks. “As you well know, there are rules we all live by, unspoken ones, but ones we all obey. No fucking police. However Louhi chooses to deal with this is up to her, but that girl has grown up in this life and she won’t be pulling the police in unless they’re bent and she’s using them to cover her back.” 

 “Fair point,” Connall concedes, leaning back against the counter as he regards me. “And your big plan is to slope off with your tail between your legs, heart fucking broken, whilst there are a fuck load of snakes and sharks out there who are more than willing to take a bite out of your woman?” 

“I’m not sloping off,” I growl, “And I’m not willing to let anyone do any such thing. I trust Dom to keep an eye on her, and I believe the King will have her back whilst it suits him. Right now keeping her safe, and more importantly the business safe, is in his best interests.”

“So what’s the plan, and why do you want me tagging along for the ride?” Connall asks. “For your charm and wit, of course,” I reply, deadly fucking serious. He laughs. I don’t. “Okay spill.” “I’m gonna find her an army of the best men and women money, charm and connections can buy, and you’re going to help me.” “Well, when you put it like that, how can a man say no?” Connalls replies, grinning. “And what do you need me to do?” Joey asks. “Keep your ear to the ground and let me know the second you hear anything about the King that should concern me. Better still, ingratiate yourself with Louhi. Get in on the business. She’ll need someone to fix up her men after they’ve been in the cage. Make sure that man is you.” Joey nods.

 “You got it.” “So where to go first?” Connall asks me as my eyes begin to drift shut. “Italy. Romeo Ricci, remember that crazy bastard, he has some contacts out there I’d like to explore…” “Italy it is,” Connall replies, with a shake of his head as exhaustion and a heavy dose of painkiller pull me under.

*2 years later*

Sy’s POV

It’s been almost two years since I left. Two long motherfucking years where I’ve watched over Saoirse from afar. My Princess. My woman. My heart. She turns twenty in a week. And I’m back to tell her the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me fucking God.

I owe her an explanation, my apologies and my love. But more than that, I owe her my life. Saoirse isn’t a crap shot, and no one misses major organs when they’re firing a bullet from a few feet away without purposefully intending to miss. She shot me that night in the cage, banishing me from her life and sending out a message to the criminal underworld. No one fucks with Louhi. Not even the ones she loves. It was her saving grace, because when she pulled the trigger she proved herself a Davidson more than worthy of standing in Carter’s shoes, and she’s been proving herself ever since, building a business and an army that she can be proud of. Unofficially she’s been running the club from the moment Carter was murdered by yours truly, officially just a few short weeks since his will was read and her name replaced his as the owner of the club. Either way, she’s gained respect and a reputation. 

According to Dom, who’s been my inside man this whole time, despite the King still having involvement in the club, he’s backed off and allowed her to make a name for herself whilst he reaped the benefits. It won’t be long before she buys him out, or better yet kills the cunt, but all in good time. For now, she’s running the most lucrative fight club in all of Europe. Two months after the refurbishment, the old club mysteriously burnt to the ground and she moved premises to a larger, more discrete site where the club has also become more commonly known as Louhi’s Fight Club. As it should be. She’s a badass, and I’m so fucking proud of her. Two weeks ago, Dom called me to let me know that Carter’s will had finally been read, after his funeral took place a couple weeks before that.

 A funeral that, by all accounts, was attended by every fucking lowlife criminal you could think of. None of them were there for Carter, and even less to pay their respects to Saoirse. Like vultures around a rotting carcass, they wanted to see what they could get out of the situation because up until three months ago, Carter was deemed a missing person. And a missing person is still a threat, but a dead man? Not so much. What they hadn’t counted on was the woman they met at the funeral. A woman who, according to Dom, single-handedly laid out three men and shot a fourth in the kneecap for even trying to disrespect her. They also hadn’t counted on the soldiers she’s acquired or the loyalty of mercenaries with a big enough reputation to scare even the most hardened criminal off. Like I said, she’s been building an army. It’s also common knowledge that the remains of Carter’s skull was found in a shallow grave in Hampstead Heath, and that he was identified by his teeth.

It’s not common knowledge that the police were tipped-off with where to find Carter’s remains, or the fact that the rest of his body was fed to pigs who have long since been butchered too. Both calculated decisions that were made by Saoirse herself. Of course, speculation had been rife in the criminal underworld, and according to Dom, Saoirse endured weeks of police interrogations, interviews and accusations. But she never wavered from her story, and she never once ratted me out. Carter’s cause of death was deemed suspicious, but given there was very little left of Carter’s body and no other evidence to be found given the old club is now nothing but a pile of ash, the case ran cold.

 Though I’m more than fucking positive that there was a handout to the police chief and a few people higher up the chain of command to nip any further investigations in the bud. Like I said, Saoirse has come into her own. Or should I say Louhi has come into her own, because there isn’t one person now who’ll call her Saoirse. She won’t allow it. The last person who tried was beaten by her men so badly that he can’t even remember his own name, let alone hers, or so I’m told. Saoirse has well and truly shredded her skin and stepped into the role of Louhi completely. It’s a heavy burden to know that I’m part of the reason for that.

That my actions, my half-truths and my lies to keep her safe, forced her into a persona she couldn’t escape from. Honestly, I’m not certain she would even want to now. But I’m not back to change her in any way, I’m back because I can’t stay away a moment longer. There’s so much I need to fix and I’m not self-centred enough to believe I’ll be successful, but I’ve got to fucking try. I blow out a steady breath, swiping at the mist covering the mirror from the shower I’ve just taken, and stare at my reflection. I look much the same as I did when I left.

 I’m still a bulky fucker, probably bigger than I was given I’ve spent a lot of my time training in gyms around the world, but it didn’t matter where I was, there was no sunshine without her. My happiness wasn’t a focus, her safety was, still is. I haven’t been complacent in my time away. I’ve made alliances, acquaintances and friends with powerful men and women. And I’ve done it all for Saoirse, for Louhi. I’ve been standing by her side this whole fucking time we’ve been apart. I never stopped working to build her army. Never stopped loving her. Never stopped dreaming about her every fucking night, and thinking about her every minute of every day. I’m surprised my dick hasn’t dropped off from the amount of times I’ve abused it whilst thinking of her. 

That night in her bedroom where she’d spread herself for me and finger-fucked herself so perfectly has been on repeat in my head for the last two years. Even now, after all this time, thoughts of her make me hard. That won’t ever change. Scraping a hand over my face, I mentally psych myself up, because if I was nervous about telling Saoirse about my feelings back in my tattoo shop two years ago, that’s nothing to how I’m feeling now. I ain’t shitting a brick. I’m shitting a goddamn mountain. Dom has made it perfectly clear that she’s not the same person I left behind, but then again neither am I. Truth be known, being away has changed me. I was never a spiritual man, and I won’t pretend that I am now, but a few months back I accompanied Connall on a trip to Ireland to visit his family and met a lad who has this uncanny ability to uncover a man’s secrets and capitalize on them. The little fucker got me talking about personal shit that I would never share with anyone. I can’t even blame my loose mouth on the pints of Guinness I knocked back, given I only had two. Pretty sure he pulled some voodoo shit on me. All I know is if anyone has the heart of a criminal, the soul of a thief and the mind of a genius, it’s Arden Dálaigh, and I have no doubts we’ll meet again when he’s grown a few more chest hairs. But that’s a concern for another day. 

With a shake of my head, my gaze falls to Saoirse’s handprint tattooed on my chest, the outline of which is now completely filled with black ink. From there my eyes track across to the puckered scar that sits just beneath my right collar bone where Saoirse shot me. Both are a prominent reminder of the woman I love, and I will wear them with pride until the day I fucking die. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Connall asks, the second I slide into the passenger seat beside him. I gave him a look. “Not in the fucking slightest, but it’s time.” “She might actually kill you this time.” “She might, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take,” I reply, drumming my fingers against my knee in agitation. 

The fucker of course notices. He’s been a good friend to me and I owe him so much more than I could ever repay. Connall has been my right-hand man through all of my travels around the world. “Listen, mate, I love you, you know that right?” I laugh. “If you’re about to tell me to run away with you—”

“We’ve been there, done that already,” he cuts in with a smirk, breaking sharply and swearing at a kid that suddenly dashes out into the road in front of us. She slams her fist against the bonnet, before giving us the middle finger. Beneath her hood I can see bright blue hair and a scowl that would rival the many Saoirse has given me in the past. “Watch where you’re going, asswipe!” she yells, then pelts it across the street chucking a spray can at the car for good measure.

 “The little fucker!” Connall exclaims as we both watch her leg it down the street and disappear down an alleyway a little further up. “That one’s gonna cause someone a heap of shit in a few years.” “Looks like she’s already causing a heap of shit,” I remark, as Connall puts the car in drive and moves on. We both laugh, the tension easing a little. Ten minutes later Connall pulls up outside a gated industrial estate, manned by a security guard who looks very familiar.

 Mark.

 The last time I saw him, he was in the crowd at the club whilst I was getting the shit kicked out of me by Derby. Connall gives me a look. “Is he gonna give us trouble?” “I guess you’d better roll your window down so we can find out.”

Mark steps out of the little hut he’s sitting in and strolls over to the car, ducking down to look through the now open window. It takes him less than a second to lock eyes with me. “Well, fuck! Dom said you were back, but I didn’t believe it. Syverson, as I live and breathe. How are you, mate?” Not quite the reception I was expecting, but okay. I grin. “I’m good, you?” “Head of security here these days,” he says with a wink, tapping on the walkie-talkie attached to his chest. “That uniform looks good on you,” Connall says, jerking his chin towards Mark’s outfit. He looks like a cross between a copper and a bouncer in his deep blue shirt and trousers. 

The fact he’s got a handgun strapped to his hip and a knife slotted next to it just adds to the whole don’t fuck with me vibe he’s got going on. “Louhi likes her soldiers dressing smart. Things have changed around here since…” His voice trails off and neither of us fill in the silence. Mark was at the club the night I fought Derby, but he wasn’t there when I killed Carter. I found out later he was dragging a fuming Hudson Freed home. 

Though he couldn’t keep him away according to Dom, who’s been my inside man this whole time. Hudson came back an hour after I left and is as deep in this pile of shit as the rest of us in attendance that night. Honestly, I expected to hear that Saoirse and him had got together after I’d gone, but to my surprise they’re still just friends and have remained close. I guess I owe him a thank you for looking out for my girl too, even if it pisses me off that he got to spend time with her and I didn’t. I should be grateful, I am grateful, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to beat the shit out of him for having her time and attention though.

 Never thought I’d be a jealous man, but here we are. “Sy is here to see Louhi. Is that gonna be a problem?” Connall asks, before I’m able to even clear my head enough to do the same. For a beat Mark looks between us, his expression serious. We were friends once, and the thought of having to knock the fucker out so I can get inside the gates doesn’t sit well with me, but I’ll do it if I have to. “A few weeks back I would’ve seen you on your way,” he admits with a wry grin. “And today?” I ask, my stomach churning at the thought that just on the other side of this gate is the woman I love. “Today you’re allowed in.” Connall grins. “Excellent, want to get the gate open then?”

Mark’s smile drops. “Sorry, Connall. Sy goes in alone. Orders of the Boss.” Connall looks affronted, glancing at me. “Why is she pissed at me? I ain’t done nothing wrong. Surely, she has missed my Irish charm?” I laugh, and Mark grins. “Couldn’t tell you. All I’ve been told is if Logan  turns up he comes in alone.” “Not a problem,” I say, unclipping my seat belt. “Follow me then,” Mark replies, bumping fists with a put-out Connall, before striding back to the gate. “Seriously, Sy, are you sure you wanna do this? We both know that Louhi has quite the reputation these days.” “I’m sure. Go home. I’ll call you later.” Connall nods, blowing out a breath.

 “Well, don’t let me tell you I told you so when you end up in the coroner's office with a bullet in your brain.” “Pretty sure I’ll be incapable of listening or responding at that point,” I say with a laugh, before jumping out of the car and striding through the open gate.

Two minutes later I’m pushing open the door into the warehouse Mark pointed me towards, and stepping into a cornered off wire cage with wrap around curtains and a locked door opposite. In the corner of the space is a table and a sign that says:

 Remove all weapons or entry will be denied.

I grin. Saoirse is way smarter than her father. Security is clearly a priority, as it should be. Glancing around the space, my attention is caught by a tiny red light flashing in the top right hand corner of the cage. I stare up at the camera and wait, a smile pulling up my lips. “Weapons on the table,” a familiar female voice barks through the intercom. It’s been a long time since I heard her voice and for a moment I’m taken aback. Struck fucking dumb, actually, though my dick doesn’t seem to have the same problem. It jerks at her voice, standing to fucking attention. “Jesus fuck,” I mutter. “Weapons on the table, Syverson. You’ll get them back when you leave.” 

Syverson. Call me a fool, call me whatever the fuck you like, but the sheer fact she’s addressing me by my real name is a good fucking sign. I hear the sass buried deep beneath the coolness, and it fires my fucking blood like nothing else. Maybe there’s hope. “I have no weapons. I come in peace,” I reply, grinning, unable to help myself.

For long moments there’s just silence, then the intercom makes a clicking noise and her voice follows shortly after. “Prove it. Strip.” “Sure thing, Princess,” I reply without hesitation, more than happy to oblige. I hear the sound of the intercom clicking once more and wait, but there’s nothing but static. Maybe it’s too early to be calling her Princess again so I follow my reply up with a statement that I hope she takes as truthfully as it’s meant. “Ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Her scoff comes through the intercom clear as fuck then. “Just get on with it.” I stare up at the camera and nod. If she wants me naked, then I’ll get naked.

 She can see how my cock is growing for her too. I don’t fucking care. She can take her fill. Removing my jacket and boots first, I throw the former onto the table and kick the latter across the concrete floor. There isn’t one moment when my gaze isn’t focussed on the camera, and I’m hoping she can feel the intensity of my stare, because I sure as fuck can feel hers. Next, my t-shirt, jeans and socks come off and I stand in my boxers with a raging hard on that would rival any of those other fuckers that she might’ve invited into her bed. I sure hope I get the chance to erase any bastard cock that has had the pleasure of her attention these past couple years. It fucking kills

I know that someone else has taken what was always supposed to be mine, but I can’t blame her for it. I won’t do that. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking gut me though, or that I won’t off the fucker who took it from me. Just saying. “Do you need me to remove my boxers too, because you know I will, Princess,” I say unabashedly. This wasn’t exactly how I pictured our reunion, but I get the psychology behind it. She wants to show me who’s boss, what she doesn’t realize is that I never wanted to be hers.

 Every action I took came from a place of love, and the need to protect her. “Is that a gun in your pants or are you just glad to see me?” a familiar male voice says, followed by a burst of laughter that has my cock deflating quicker than you can say gonorrhea. Across the other side of the space the curtain surrounding the cage is pulled back and Dom is smiling at me. “Fucking hell, Syverson, I can see that cock of yours is still a lethal weapon.” I bark out a laugh, shaking my head. “You prick!” 

“Nope, you’re definitely the prick.”

“Good to see you, Dom,” I reply, my smile fading as I give him a look that I hope he interprets as gratefulness. Without him keeping an eye on Saoirse, and letting me know how she’s been doing, I would’ve been even more of a fucking mess. “Get dressed. Louie's waiting for you in her office,” he gives me a knowing look, then punches a number into a keypad on his side of the cage and pulls the door open. He waits for me to put my clothes back on, and with one last glance at the camera, I follow Dom into the lioness’s den.

Saoirse’s POV

I stare at the screen, at the man who stole my heart and made me an orphan. He looks the same as I remember and different in a way that’s difficult to pinpoint. There are lines around his eyes, and a tightness around his mouth that I have the sudden urge to soothe. He’s more muscular, if that’s even possible. His hair is a little longer on top and he’s clean shaven. If I weren’t already sitting down, I’d need to.

There’s no doubt that he’s grown even more handsome, and despite my head telling me not to get drawn in, my foolish heart is beating wildly. Don’t even ask me about my pussy because she’s already forgiven him and is about ready to throw herself at his cock and beg for oblivion. “Fuck!” I swear, my gaze roving over every inch of his face as he stares up at the camera.

 This was a bad fucking idea. I can’t be weak for this man, I can’t. Flicking my gaze to my phone, I consider calling Mark to come get his arse and chuck him out, but  I hesitate. My stomach churns with anxiety, and I grab my packet of cigarettes from the table, lighting one and dragging in a deep lungful. The tip sizzles, and when I blow out a stream of blue-grey smoke, some of the anxiety lifts. Narrowing my eyes at him I make a decision, then lean back in my chair and press the intercom button. “Weapons on the table,” I say, keeping my voice steady, cold. He stiffens, his muscles locking tight as he blinks back up at the camera. He wasn’t expecting to hear my voice. Good, let him feel as fucked in the head as I do. I take another drag of my cigarette, enjoying the power shift as he chews on his lip. There’s no doubt that he’s nervous. Well that makes two of us.

“Weapons on the table, Syverson. You’ll get them back when you leave.” I can’t help but grin at the surprise in his eyes when I call him by his real name. Before, when I used to call him Syverson, it was to wind him up, to get a rise out of him. Now, I just want to remind him that I can call him whatever the fuck I want and he can’t do a damn thing about it. It takes him a beat to reply, but when he does he gives me a grin that almost makes me forget what he did. Almost. “I have no weapons. I come in peace,” he says. I take another pull of my cigarette. 

There’s nothing about his body language that tells me he’s being anything other than truthful, and despite everything, I believe he isn’t carrying. Not that it would matter if he was, because my soldiers would have him disarmed and on his knees with a gun cocked at his head before he could even blink. Syverson might be the best fighter in the cage, but he’s no match for the combined force of the mercenaries I’ve gathered over the two years since he’s been gone. Every single one of them walked into the club as a fighter and stayed as my soldier, and I took full advantage of the universe bringing them to me.

 We eyeball each other through the screen, and deciding that he needs to be knocked down a peg, or five thousand, I test his willingness to follow my orders because there is no way I’ll even entertain talking to him if he thinks he can just waltz back in here and pick up where we left off. I don’t care how fucking sexy he is, or how much he still makes my legs go weak and my pussy wet. “Prove it. Strip,” I demand, smirking as I lean back in my chair and wait. I don’t have to wait for long. “Sure thing, Princess,” he replies then begins to remove his clothes. I press down on the intercom about ready to tell him to fuck off for calling me Princess, but then he says something else that stills my heart and immediately puts me back in the headspace of the girl who was utterly in love with him. “Ain’t nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” I blink at the screen, at his sincerity. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Swallowing hard and pushing those feelings deep down, I scoff, then say; “Just get on with it.” 

Then I click off the intercom so that I don’t do something fucking stupid like ask him to do everything I’ve dreamed of in the privacy of my bedroom these past couple years since he’s been gone. Dragging in another hit of my cigarette, I watch him undress, my mouth dropping open as I stare at the screen, transfixed. He strips right down to his boxers and there’s no denying that his almost naked form is as stunningly attractive as it ever was, but it isn’t his defined muscles or his broad shoulders

and strong thighs that leave me breathless. It isn’t even the intimidating size of his erection. It’s my handprint that’s completely filled in and resting over his heart in a permanent tattoo that sucks all the oxygen from the room and has my own heart pounding so loud that I barely hear my phone ringing. “Shit! Fuck!” I exclaim, picking it up. “What?” I snap into the mouthpiece. “He’s about to take his fucking pants off. Are you still convinced he’s packing?” Dom asks me, undeniable laughter in his voice. He’s certainly packing, I think, my gaze trailing to his boxers and the bulge there.

 “Bring him to me,” I ordered. “Sure thing… And boss?” “Yes?” “He’s a good guy.” I snort. “Tell that to Carter.” By the time Dom knocks on my door five minutes later, I’ve shrugged off the girl who was in love with Syverson and firmly stepped into the role of Louhi. I promised myself I would listen to him, and I will, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to take him back no matter what he has to say. “Come in,” I called out, arms folded across my chest in defense mode that I quickly uncrossed because letting him know I’m feeling out of sorts by his sudden appearance today isn’t what Louhi would do. She is strong, unfazed by anyone, and it’s her grit I funnel as  Dom opens the door and Syverson steps past him into my office.

 I glance at Syverson quickly, willing my heart to stop racing and ignoring the very real need to just go to him, then give a tight smile to Dom. “Need me to stay?” he asks. “No. Get home to Nancy. I’ll see you back here tomorrow night for Ziggy’s fight.” “Sure thing.” He nods once, flicks his gaze to the back of Syverson’s head and smirks, shutting the door behind him. “I should shoot you dead now,” I state, my fingers running over the Glock resting on my desk, internally wincing at the opposing emotions fucking with my head. I just want to go to him, wrap my arms around him, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. “I wouldn’t stop you,” he replies evenly. “Do you have a death wish?” I ask, genuinely interested, and trying hard to focus on being Louhi and not the girl who’s still in love with him. He holds his hands out, palms up. “The only wish I have is for the chance to talk. That’s it. That’s all.” We stare at each other for long moments, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t want to throw caution to the wind and forgive him instantly for everything. But I can’t do that.

I won’t do that. “Drink?” I ask instead, if only because I need something to do with my hands. Without waiting for him to reply, I push back from the table and stride over to the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room, pouring us both a three-fingered shot of bourbon. I take my time, letting him get his fill of my fitted shirt, tight leather skirt, bare legs, and stiletto ankle boots. I know for a fact my knee-length skirt hugs my arse, and the slit at the back gives glimpses of my thighs. He’s not the only one who’s kept themselves fit these past couple years. I spar three times a week with Dom and Mark and train with Cleveland, one of the mercenaries, twice a week too. I keep up with pole dancing as much as I can with Nancy and Matty as well. Exercise has helped to keep my mind focused, sharp. What no one knows is that on my nights off I indulge in copious amounts of junk food to ease the pain in my chest whilst sitting in my threadbare pyjamas, feeling lonely as fuck. There has to be balance, right? With his eyes on me, I grab the drinks and return to my seat, sliding one across the table to him. “Sit.” Syverson nods, watching me carefully as he pulls out the chair and takes a seat opposite me. I will my cheeks not to flush at the intense way he stares at me,but rather than looking away I stare right back, not willing to let him see how affected I am by him. Taking a sip of the bourbon, I wait. 

“Saoirse…” Syverson begins, his Texan accent causing a sharp pang in my chest,  “Louhi,” I retort firmly. “Louhi,” he corrects, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table, completely ignoring the glass of bourbon. My gaze trails over his thick fingers and the veins protruding on the back of his hands before I slowly lift my eyes to meet his. I’m pretty sure he was just checking out my tits too. Can’t say I blame him, they’ve filled out some since he left. I guess I’m what you call a late bloomer. “You’ve got five minutes. Speak,” I demand, so fucking grateful my voice remains steady. “You look good,” he remarks, the sound of lust in his voice like a wet dream come true. There’s no denying the need in his eyes and for a second I allow myself to bask in it. To let his words wash over me like a sweet caress. Then I pull my shit together.

“If you’re just here to compliment me on my looks then you can get your arse up out of that chair and fuck right off. I don’t need your compliments, Syverson. I get enough of them as it is.” His eyes flash with possession, and a whole dose of jealousy, but he shuts both down and nods, clearing his throat. “I’m sure you do.” We fall silent again, and I pick up another cigarette, lighting it. He looks surprised but instead of questioning why I’ve taken up smoking, he nods towards the cigarette packet. “May I?” “You may,” I say, inwardly smiling at the way he seems to shift uncomfortably in his seat. I wonder if he still has a boner. The sheer fact he got hard because he knew I was watching him strip makes me feel all kinds of ways. 

Mostly horny, but also wanted, desired. Yeah, I’ve had plenty men want to fuck me, but the way Syverson is looking at me now, it’s different. It’s more. As he leans forward and reaches across the table, his loose fitting, v-neck shirt gapes a little, revealing the top of the handprint tattoo. Now it’s me who’s staring as I remember the day he took me to his tattoo shop and stole my breath with his actions and his promises.

“I like what you’ve done with the club,” he interrupts my reminiscing. I rip my gaze upwards and watch him place a cigarette between his lips before lighting it.

 “You’ve been busy building quite an empire since I’ve been gone.”

 “You sound surprised.” 

“No. I never doubted you.”

 Blue-grey smoke curls up out of his mouth as he speaks and I can’t help but notice the note of pride in his voice. I don’t need a man’s validation, but surprisingly getting this recognition from Syverson means more to me than it probably should. “Yeah, you’re right. I have been building an empire since I banished you,” I reply, forcing all those warm feelings I have no business entertaining deep into the pit of my stomach. Anger is by far a safer emotion right now, and I’m clinging onto it with everything I have. “I’ll rephrase that. You’ve been building quite an empire since you banished me.” There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes that warms a part of me that turned cold a long time ago, and it’s that feeling and not his flirty smile that has me reacting the way I do.

 I. Can’t. Let. Him. In.

 I Can’t.

“Get out!” I snap. Stubbing out my cigarette, I push up from my desk and stride towards the door. “Now!” He twists in his seat, frowning as he watches me yank open the door . “What?” “I said, get the fuck out!” My voice is low, dripping with fury. “Woah, Louhi,” he retorts, stubbing his own cigarette into the ashtray before getting to his feet.

 “Calm down darlin.”

 “Calm down? Calm-fucking-down! No. You don’t get to patronize me.”

 “I wasn’t! Shit! Fuck, that’s not what I was doing!”

 I bark out a laugh, feeling a lot less Louhi and way more Saoirse than I have in a very long time. Saoirse is the one who flies off the handle at the drop of a hat, who’s emotional. Louhi is nothing like that and a large part of me resents that he still has the ability to pull her out of me.

 “Did you honestly think you could waltz in here, flash me a smile, give me flirty fuck-me eyes and think I would fall at your feet like some lovesick teenager?”

 “Well, I—” he smiles again in that infuriating way that makes my heart squeeze. “Don’t you dare!”

 I hiss, slamming the door shut in anger instead of slamming my fist into his cocky face. “Don’t make this into a fucking joke.”

“I’m sorry, let me start again,” he begins, scraping a hand over his face. 

“Fuck, I knew I’d balls this up.”

 “I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not someone you can flirt with and charm, who begs for your attention. I won’t just roll over and forgive you for everything just because you’re back.”

 “I don’t expect you to do any of that,” he replies earnestly as he steps towards me. “I misjudged the situation. I guess I thought—I hoped—that because you hadn’t already shot me dead that we were on better terms than we actually are. I was wrong. I apologize.”

 “The only terms we’re on is me giving you a chance to shoot your shot before I decide whether to shoot you dead for good this time!” I bite back.

 “That’s fair,” he replies, holding his hands aloft as he approaches me guardedly. “I’m just asking you to listen to what I have to say. Will you?”

 “So now you want my obedience?” I shake my head. “Nothing’s changed there then.” 

“You were never obedient,” he retorts, moving closer still. “As I recall, you did nothing but cause me shit. I’ve missed that.” 

This time his smile isn’t flirty, it’s pitted with regret and the barely stitched together wounds in my chest rip open at that. He missed me. God, I missed him too. So fucking much. But I don’t admit it.

“And you were nothing but a tease and a heartbreaker!” I retort, hating the fact that I’m losing my cool so spectacularly, that somehow I’ve moved towards him instead of putting more space between us. “I’m sorry it felt that way.”

 “Are you?”

 “Saoirse,” he says, then slams his mouth shut when I give him a glare that ordinarily would end in someone getting kneecapped. 

“Louhi,” he repeats, still stepping towards me.

 “I never meant to hurt you.”

 “But you did. And that girl you made an orphan? She’s gone now.”

 “I understand,” he acknowledges, stopping a few inches from me.

 “You don’t understand though,” I reply. “You don’t understand anything.”

 “Then explain it to me. What’s going on in your head, Princess?”

 I look up at him unable, or perhaps unwilling, to drag my gaze away. I don’t even pull him up for calling me Princess again because, fuck, I’ve missed him so much. I ache to step into his arms. It’s physically painful to keep this distance between us, but I have a reputation to uphold and letting him back in would ruin mine. No one knows for certain that he killed Carter, but speculation has been rife since his body, or what was left of it, was found. The fact Syverson disappeared the same night my dad did but has turned up alive and well two years later is a big fucking red flag.

Not to mention that he did actually kill my dad. It’s just as well I’ve got the police chief in my pocket, otherwise Sy would’ve been pulled in for questioning the second he stepped back in town. He knows that just as much as I do. “You lost the right to ask those kinds of questions two years ago, Syverson.”

 “You’re right, I did, and it guts me to know that.” He sighs, tracing my features with his gaze. “There’s so much I need to say to you, but all I can think about right now is taking you in my arms and loving you until you understand that I’m sorry.”

 “Syverson,” I warn, but he ignores me and brushes his knuckles against my cheek, and just for a moment I’m caught in his pull, in the chemistry and the attraction we’ve always shared. It’s as strong as it ever was. It’s intoxicating. 

“Fuck, Louhi. Fuck,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over my lips.

 “Syverson,” I say, trying and failing not to lean into his hold as his palm presses against my cheek and his fingers massage the shaven hair behind my ear. I can feel myself giving in, feel my heart calling out to his whilst my brain screams at me to stop, to think, to step the fuck away from him. “We belong together, you and me,” he murmurs as I struggle internally, wanting to let him in, knowing that I shouldn’t.

He lowers his head slowly towards mine, and in the short time it takes for him to lean closer, Louhi comes back fighting. I shove at his chest, taking a step back and putting space between us. “I don’t belong to anyone, Syverson. I don’t need to be loved by you. I do just fine without that bullshit in my life!” I lie, my chest heaving as we stare at one another. “We both know that isn’t true, because this thing we have, this connection, it ain’t going away. We’re inevitable, you and me…” And he’s right. We are. A part of me, a desperately needy, lonely part that has missed him, has yearned for him, wants him to take charge and pull me into his arms and kiss me stupid. The other part sighs in relief when he backs up. 

“But right now we can’t explore ourselves until you know the truth, and I’m here to give it to you.” “And what truth is that?” I ask, feeling the hair on the back of my neck stand. The look in his eyes is enough to make me withdraw emotionally, locking my feelings down, hardening up. Whatever he’s about to say isn’t going to be good. “That I killed Carter not because he wanted me dead for loving you, although that’s reason enough in my book, but because he drew up a contract with the King selling you to that asshole in exchange for paying off his debts.”

 Stunned doesn’t even begin to cover what I’m feeling. I’m fucking stupified, a sudden ringing in my ear drowning out every other sound. It takes me a few moments to gather my thoughts and I have to blink back my shock. “What?” I eventually choke out, the floor tipping beneath my feet as I try to make sense of what he’s just said. “That’s a fucking lie!”

  “I wish it was.” Sy  blows out a sharp breath, my reaction to the truth hurting him as much as the truth hurts me. “I made a new deal with the King as soon as I found out what your dad had planned. I would kill Carter and the King would back off from you, remaining a silent partner in the club. I did it so that I could give you time to build an army so that one day, when the time was right, you could take out the motherfucker yourself.”

 “He was going to sell me to the King?” I ask, disbelief quickly dissolving into rage that fires my blood and makes me wish Carter was still alive so that I could drive the motherfucking knife into his back, just like Sy did that night. “Yeah, he was,” Sy confirms, giving me a look of such deep sorrow that I almost, almost stepped into his arms. Instead, I tip up my chin, straighten my spine and funnel some Louhi energy. Maybe my dad had a hand in bringing her to life, but it was always Logan who fuelled her strength. “Tell me why I should believe you?” I ask, not because I don’t believe him—the truth is, I do—but because I need a moment to gather my thoughts. To figure out what the fuck I should do now.

 “You don’t have to believe me, but if you want to corroborate my story you just need to check the accounts at The Crib Club,” Sy says. “And how do you propose I do that?” “You managed to shut down the case investigating Carter’s murder. I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he says, knowingly. “Yeah,” I retort, already knowing exactly who to go to for help in that department. “Carter was a bastard, and he deserved to die,” he continues, “And what’s more, I’d do it all again to keep you safe.”

 I swallow hard, trying to form the words that just won’t come, because even though I believe him, I have to know for sure he’s telling the truth. When I don’t respond, he swipes a hand through his hair then says: “The only mistake I made was not telling you everything at the time. You weren’t wrong when you said that you didn’t need a man to make decisions for you. I can see just how capable you are, have always been. I’m proud of you. I’m proud of what you’ve built and I’m truly sorry for not giving you the respect you deserved and coming to you with what I found out.” My chest swells with conflicting emotions and it takes a great deal of strength not to fucking buckle, but I stand my ground and remain calm on the surface, even though beneath it all I’m struggling to make sense of everything. I stare at him for a long long time, my throat dry, my pulse racing, my stomach churning and my heart trying its very best to punch a hole through my chest. But I have to keep my head. First I need to check out his story, and then I need to decide what I do with that information. Eventually, I swallow hard and nod. 

“I appreciate you coming here and telling me.” “It’s the least you deserve.” “I have a lot to think about,” I admit. “Yeah, I imagine you do,” he acknowledges. “What are you going to do about the King?” “I don’t know yet.” “Well, when you figure that out, I’ve got your back, no strings attached,” he says, giving me a tight smile before heading towards the door and pulling it open. “Syverson!” I call out before I can stop myself, swallowing back the fucking neediness in my voice. He stills, glancing over his shoulder at me, his eyes flickering with hope.

 “Yeah?” “Are you still fighting?” “Not since I fought against Derby, why?”  “Next weekend I’m holding a contest at the club to celebrate my birthday. Anyone can fight.” “Is that an invitation?” “The winner gets to become one of my soldiers. Are you still a beast, Syverson?” I ask, picking up the glass of bourbon I poured for him and knocking it back in one gulp, relishing the burn. We both know that this is a test, but it’s also an olive branch. The question is, will he take it? “I’ll be here,” he replies, then steps out into the hallway and leaves.

[dualityvn]

thank you nightmare for the delicious lore crumb i will now drive myself crazy over it for everyone's enjoyment

alright so, "the game isnt supposed to exist. you're supposed to forget it" right off the bat i have a pretty good idea of what i think the first part means, which ill get to, but ill be frank i have No clue what the second part is supposed to mean. maybe ill think of it as i work the first part out, maybe not, but going into this i am Clueless.

diving right into the first part then, as soon as i read it i was reminded of magic man, and how he interceded on our behalf to stop Keith from seeing an ask that would have upset him. when we questioned Keith and Tenebris about magic man later, we learned that he had approached and spoken to Keith the day we first meet him, after we had left the flower shop, and told him that we (the MC) would be someone who could love him. (i wanted to find the exact post so i could quote it but i cant find it so if im mis-rembering something let me know)

so, if we assume that magic man is in fact, magic, and somehow pulled some strings to get this "fated meeting" between the boys and the MC to happen, then i think that pretty solidly solves the question of why the game isn't supposed to exist.

because its not supposed to. we were never supposed to meet Keith and Tenebris, and they were never supposed to get attached to us, but it Has been created and they Did. but something that's not supposed to exist has to be created, which explains the existence of magic man.

what i still dont get is magic mans motives tho. if he is the one that made it possible for the game to exist, and for the boys and the MC to meet each other and fall in love, Why? why would he do that? what does he get out of it? what made him look at Keith and Tenebris and say "ill handle it"

is it because hes been in a similar situation? because he knows what its like to be deemed "unlovable" by those around him? we know from the one picture we have of him that he has some scarring on his face, what happened to him to cause that? does it have something to do with why he seemed to go out of his way to help both us and the boys?

magic man is such a fascinating character in this world primarily because we know nothing about him. we know that he is aware of us, and that he is aware of the power our words have on Keith and Tenebris. we know he gave advice to Keith that he wont tell us about, and that Tenebris doesn't know all the details either. and that's like,, it.

to be fair, i could be completely wrong here, all of this is counting on magic man being magic, and i honestly have no other leads if that's not the case.

i also still have no idea what "you're supposed to forget it." is supposed to mean. it could be related to a couple of things, like how in the game once you finish a playthrough, that's it for that particular version of the boys. they're done and move on, forever mourning the connection to you that they once had but will never have again. if you start a new playthrough, you are given a completely new set of them, who are exactly the same, but yet are not the same ones as before. (which, side note, is so cruel and heartbreaking to think about)

anyways, thank you nightmare once again for sharing with me i have been thinking about this nonstop since last night when i saw it and it has been eating my brain alive

Sorry for the wait, Cacti, I finally dug this out of my ask pile.

But you're right about the fact that "he" is involved. However, none of the motives you listed are right :P And unfortunately, you won't find out until a future game. But your efforts are appreciated!

[houndfaker]

I absolutely adore your phantom thief kikuno!!! I'd love to hear more about it, anything you want to share :] (especially the persona I really love the design 👉👈)

uhm well uhm hiiii 😊 THANK U hiii i love being the talker. got a lot to say so it’ll go under da cut

being really frank a lot of it is a heavy wip but the concepts in my brain were clear enough that i wanted to start drawing for it right away. it’s very loose structurally

it’s essentially me pulling shit from the drama cds to do something ultra self indulgent.

she becomes a phantom thief kinda late in the game as my hypothetical palace concept that would get her involved with the thieves in the first place is one that has to do with the kirijo group, placing it just after haru joins the thieves on the timeline; this follows the implicit canon timeline where p5 takes place sometime after p4au. the kirijo group announces it is taking a different direction that has bad consequences and the thieves gotta Stop It (still trying to work the specifics of this out) and they initially think they’ll be happening upon a palace belonging to mitsuru.

surprise, it’s not mitsuru, its takadera (for those who might not recall, he’s the one-off antagonist character in the drama cd kikuno is introduced in, who attempted to take control of the group while mitsuru was grieving) who is back with a vengeance and has something planned that corners mitsuru into working with his demands. they don’t figure out as much until they find him in the palace since he’s not acting as a public figure at the time.

amidst their snooping, ever-observant kikuno catches sight of the thieves and tails them, which of course leads her straight into the metaverse as they get their hits on the new palace that’s sprung up.

kikuno adjusts almost immediately to the absurdity of the situation because it feels just like the dark hour, which she’d experienced nightly for 6 years of her life up until the dark hour disappeared. the metaverse comes off to her as essentially that with a few extra quirks, which isn’t accurate to anyone but herself. upon coming face to face with shadow takadera, much like many of the past thieves, his spiteful raw feelings, especially in reference to mitsuru, trigger kikuno’s awakening.

she takes it like a champ, she’s expected for a long time to eventually awaken, even if after 10 or so years going without one and getting by on her prowess alone had her convinced it might never need to happen. she slots easily into at least temporarily aiding the thieves. kikuno by now has mellowed out a reasonable amount and become more of an individual, but her loyalties haven’t changed. she’ll do anything in the name of protecting her lady, and the shadow operatives by extension.

with the bulk of the lore happenings out of the way, ill leave bullet points for the other stuff

when initially asked what arcana i would assign to kikuno if she were a social link in p3, i proposed hermit because i felt that it well-encapsulated her at the time in her life it would have played out. but for this particular au where she has grown considerably, I think justice would suit her somewhat better.

for designing pierrot i felt something reflecting her role as a personal servant but with a touch of like…jester/clown vibes would be fun, just because i feel it reflects her personality well.

reginald is of course based on reginald jeeves, the quintessential butler character originating from pg wodehouse’s early 1900s literary works. maybe not the perfect choice for a ‘rebellious’ figure, but i couldn’t glean a better fit from my searches, and as soon as i did a little reading i had a very clear image in my head for the persona design and had to go with it. i used inspo from various depictions (the bowler hat and tie in particular), as well as just what Felt Right (the bushy brows and monocle)

i have to do a lot of the work in the way of designing a palace for takadera (hell i have to design takadera in general because he was never given an actual design LOL) but my singular important thought is that there’s a cognitive mitsuru who’s still a child running around, because takadera never stopped viewing her as too immature. kikuno is very protective of her even knowing she’s personified through takaderas mind and spends much of the palace trying to keep her out of the grasp of the shadows.

pierrot is a bit of a silly goofster but with great capacity to be ruthless. this is good enrichment for her because there are a handful of moments in canon that lead me to believe she wants to commit unspeakable violence.

as a member of the thieves despite being in her 20s and the oldest member she doesn’t step out of line Too often but as with anything, if she finds that there is a more beneficial method to something than playing it safe, she’ll go off and decide to do it on her own. unfortunately when it comes to the metaverse, this isn’t always the best option so she’s probably gotten the thieves into hot water before as a result. but she promises to take more heed next time, joker-san. her sincerest apologies.

this is Most of what i have ironed out so far. id like to think more about her dynamics with the individual thieves, as that’s the fun part. thanks for showing so much interest though :]!!

[neurodivergantizzetwitch]

intro post :3

hiii! im [insert name here]: a stereotypical AuDHD trans girl who still hasn't settled on a name yet-- my life isnt... going well rn, but tumblr makes it a bit more bearable and every little bit helps.

im a trans fem, more specifically i like the term demigirl- which feels like it fits me. im also ace(ish), by which i mean im ace but pretty sex favorable- just don't experience sexual attraction. im also very gay and have the best partner in the whole entire universe (they said they were gonna join tumblr soon- so ill at them here once she does.)

oh yeah and my brain is funky. im a peer reviewed (and officially dxed, but im an advocate of self diagnosis) AuDHDer- which informs basically everything i do. i also have a bunch of the mental illness stuff, and have struggled w it a lot. idrk or care what the exact diagnosis is, spend enough time around insane ppl and you learn a lot of the specific labels are pretty arbitrary and a lot of symptoms are shared- i just describe myself as fucked in the head or legitimately insane

also im never consistent w tags- sorry. maybe one day ill try to be but uh... yeah not today. i do tag for potentially triggering content tho- and try my best to be consistent w it, so if you're sensitive to the following and want to follow me for some weird reason id reccomend blocking them:

#cw sex mention, #cw: substance abuse, #cw: abuse #cw: child abuse, #cw: gore, #cw: sh, #cw: si, #cw: disordered eating, #cw: bigotry, #cw: disturbing content,

id also say in accordance w the previous thing i sometimes say things about my life that are "dark" in a way that can cross a line, i don't mean to do this- and i want to respect everyone's boundaries- but accidentally sharing super dark shit is smth i struggle w.

im a committed anarchist, and i will unabashedly post in accordance w those views. i haven't been able to help people as much as id like to bc of the whole being a minor in a fucked up situation with no money energy or time thing, but im trying to do more. If anyone reading this has suggestions- lmk.

i also like a lot of shit. like A LOT of shit- and i get REALLY obsessed w it too, so it is not out of character for me to start posting a bunch about smth i had not known existed until i got obsessed (as mentioned, AuDHDer). what ill post about is just kinda based on what im feeling that day and my interests, but heres some of my favorite things that im enamored w in no particular order:

games:

mtg

minecraft

hermitcraft (which yes is minecraft and no isnt a game but shut up)

hollow knight / skilkskong 🤡

celeste

metroid

nitw

botw

hades

books

cosmere

the locked tomb

percy jackson

the sandman

six of crows

the hunger games

lotr

spec fic, especially non-traditional spec-fic

shows/movies

spiderman across the spiderverse

made in abyss

hazbin hotel

hunter x hunter

the owl house

Pan's Labyrinth (& other Guillermo movies)

miyazaki movies

wes anderson movies

animated movies & shows

cinematic/classic movies (not neccessarily old just like the literary fiction genre of movies)

weird/offbeat movies and shows

music

coheed and cambria

mcr

jhariah

girl in red

will wood

pinkshift

jack off jill

paramore

mother mother

the cure

chloe moriando

bauhaus

cardiacs

dead kennedys

lena raine

siouxsie & the banshees

milk in the microwave

mitski

penelope scott

sungazer

45 grave

other interests/hobbies n shit

drawing

d&d

writing

painting

guitar

bass

drums

singing

music production

game design

coding

animation

character design

video production

poetry

theater (yes im a fucking theater kid did you even have to ask that)

musicals

even though im solidly gen z, i havent really grown up on the internet the same way. some weird combination of my parents' disapproval of it, social anxiety, autism, and not being allowed to use it for years means that ive had this fear of posting stuff on the internet. for so many people like me the internet has been a place to escape and be themself, to me it's more often than not just a reflection of a reality that seems just as scary and ostracizing.

the thing is... i dont have a lot of friends. i dont have a large community really. and i think though there are some ways in which my aversion to social interactions including those on the internet has been helpful, there are other ways it's really isolated me- both from my peers and a broader community of people.

so im trying to put myself out there a little more. this stupidly long intro post is i think just a way for me to commit to that for myself. ive been so scared of doing it all my life, right now i think i just need some sort of outlet to be myself. who knows? maybe i'll even meet some new friends.

[aita-blorbos]

[OC AITA (yep, same anon from the gas chambers one, highly recommend reading that one first, here's the link: https://www.tumblr.com/aita-blorbos/729589462028419072/oc-aita-anon-so-hopefully-no-one-finds-all-those?source=share, also my phone died in the middle of this ask so I'm rewriting it now at 11PM, sorry for any confusing parts, Octonine can explain later)]

Content Warnings: cult mention, internalized ableism and saneism, repressed memories, description of corpses, drugs, less-than-scientific experiments, bullying, self-harm, suicidal ideation, child... "death"? i guess..., oh and also it's a horror story.

AITA for accidentally "killing" a child?

That sounds horrible but let me give some context:

I (adult M), my brother B (also adult M) and my friend P (adult F) are cult survivors and recently we created an orphanage/child therapy clinic after P's Psychology graduation. We wanted to help mentally ill kids like we once were, giving them a safe and supportive space we didn't have.

Since we started this, me and B had problems with some of the children, mostly the ones that that cult taught us were "impure", so I started trying to, y'know, confront that. The problem is, differently from B, my memories of that era were really repressed after our escape years ago, which you can guess it's hard to confront your past and your mentality when you can't remember it.

P suggested that I tried doing therapy with her, but I needed something more immediate, so I got an idea... that could have gone really badly... and I guess it did turn out like this... I went back to the ruins of that cult's "house" and found the hidden backroom in the debris. The sight of the abandoned carbonized corpses of the ones who "ascended" unlocked some of my memories, but that was not what I was searching for.

Then I found it, the "mind powder", the same one we used to access our mind realms, surely that would be a faster way. I brought some of it to our orphanage and made a makeshift "sensory isolator" (pool filled with water and salt) on the basement (no one ever uses it anyways). It was weird going back there again, it was less chaotic than when I was a child, more empty.

I tried this about 3-4 times before anything happened, and then I found something, some balls of light (or seemed to be light, it was bright than the rest of that space) that when touched showed me my memories. I looked through many of them until I found any that I couldn't see, and the more of them I saw, more things started appearing: "shadows" of objects, people and places from the past. Until I found... the "house".

Inside it, there they were, all the memories my brain didn't let me see. After brute-forcing a bit, I found out how to see them and in a few hours, I have come to terms with my past... or at least I believed so.

After this, I told about what I discovered to P, that was horrified, as the results could have been catastrophic, and that I was looking really pale after this constant exposure (I used it every day for a week and this was used once a month max). I said to her that, with some development, this could be a really effective way to help the children we take care of, and she snapped, held me down, and made me promise that I wouldn't ever touch that powder again.

After some months, I started to look less pale, and P ended up rethinking the whole situation, and said she would allow it, as long as the children weren't involved, to which I agreed. A few days later, P's son D (14-15 M) came to me saying that he knew about the powder thing and asked me if he could try it. I denied saying that I promised to his mother I wouldn't do this experiment with the children.

I talked to about it to P, and she called D to talk with her there. She was trying to explain to him why that was dangerous, but it sounded a lot like she was fighting with him, all the while he was looking at me as if I had betrayed him, which I would soon come to understand. She asked why he would ever need to do this and... well...

...how do I say this?...

He lifted his arm, showing lots of scars he had kept hidden, apparently he was having problems with bullying (the verbal and psychological one I think) that lead into him cutting himself... gosh I don't know how to describe any of this right, but I think you got the idea.

So he thought that maybe, by confronting these thoughts and memories "directly", he could be better... somehow. There was a silence for a long while, until P broke down. I... didn't knew what to do, I didn't knew if what he was saying was possible, none of us knew, but he seemed so desperate that eventually I said that we could try it if he wanted to. P was enraged over this, yelling at me about how I dare suggest this in such a vulnerable moment, I argued that I was just trying to help him, and it kept escalating until D ran out of the room crying and went to the basement.

When me and P got there, he was picking the powder and throwing it in the water (which is definitely NOT the way to do it), and when we reached him, it was too late, he was already in his mind realm. Taking him out of the water didn't bring him back, we tried a few things to wake him up but nothing worked, so we waited. After half an hour, he started to whisper some words and phrases like "where", "lost", "i'm scared", "let me go" and "still alive". Slowly, he started talking more, and then he started screaming in terror of something. We panicked, we tried to talk to him, get him out of there, but he just screamed louder and louder until he says "get me outta here!!" and then he stops, and falls down with one last whisper: "thank you". P slowly open his eyes, and we both get mortified when we see it. He was with the same lifeless eyes of the "ascended", which makes me scream and curl into a corner of the room, starting to break down, memories flowing back in.

I... I feel like I'm the villain here. I decided to search for the powder, I used it to "fix myself" quicker, I had the idea of using it to help the children, I told P about what D asked to me forcing him to confess it to his mother, I left all the "equipment" to use it there lying on the basement... I... I killed him... didn't I? It sounds silly to ask it now but, AITA?

[foggysirens]

What are your favourite blorbos/ships and how did you get into them?

Ps. Hope you feel better soon :D

ohohohoh this was such a great question and ill have you know it made me so happy to walk around work just thinking about my blorbos and getting to share them 😭

im gonna put a read more because fair warning i have a lot to say ajshsjdhks

OKAY SO first off (and a surprise to no one) luke skywalker is my ultimate blorbo. my special guy. and it’s funny cause i grew up knowing of star wars, watching the movies with my older siblings, but i never really cared about it- it wasn’t until years later i even thought about watching the movies again and it was only because my sister pressured me into watching the mandalorian and i fell in love. and then i decided to rewatch the original trilogy and that was it. the movies just found me at such a perfect spot in my life to really dig into my brain and not let go- it was year two of the pandemic, i had no friend whatsoever and a day to day that just left me feeling dull, ya know? and then all of the sudden there were these old movies about hope. about being able to become more than the sum of your parts. there was luke. luke really just embodies that feeling of hope that i was so without. and i think it’s those set of circumstances and then me just being a big science fiction/space nerd in general really made luke my perfect star wars blorbo. and then add dinluke into that!!! i could go on and on about dinluke (and i have) but fundamentally i think it’s the dynamic of these two powerful people who carry these two, seemingly opposing ideals coming together and finding that they have more in common and more to offer each other than either ever thought they’d receive is just *chefs kiss*

MOVING ON TO katniss everdeen! my first and forever blorbo. i know i don’t hunger games post here a lot but thg and katniss were both really big parts of my development. the hunger games introduced me to fandom and fanfic and katniss introduced me to the mindset of never giving up. no matter when you feel like you already have, you never give up. that small acts of bravery are just as important as big ones. she inspired me to stick up for myself and feel courageous, to shoot a bow and wear my hair in a braid far too often. to look out for those i love with all i can give. i love her strength and her wit and how she is smart and so dumb and young all at the same time. and her and peeta as a couple i think just really set the standard of love to me. like after everything, all the fighting and death, they choose to live for each other. they help each other live for themselves. that you don’t have to be someone else when your with the right person. that you can be vulnerable and ask real or not real?

NEXT IN LINE is mickey milkovich from shameless. i am rotating him around in my mind CONSTANTLY. its safe to say that he was my favourite character on the show and his penchant for crime, swearing and anger really struck a chord with me. he’s a character that feels so much but is rarely given the chance to express it. he’s constantly going against the odds and trying to do what’s right. it may not be right, or legal for that matter, but it’s still what he believes. he’s a character that’s gone through so much pain and suffering and is still able to flip off the world. he gives me the confidence to say fuck you to people who are treating me poorly and smile because i know that the parts of me they judge and think are weak are the parts that make me swing back harder. he’s violent, he’s gross, he’s pathetic and he’s one tough motherfucker and shit if getting to see him get a happy ending, get to be out and to get someone who loves him as he is for all those reasons didn’t make me hope id get that one day too. (DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED OF GALLAVICH. REALLY DONT. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THEY ARE A GOD TEIR OTP AND NOBODY DOES IT LIKE THEM ALL THE OTHER SHIPS OUT THERE DONT EVEN COME CLOSE)

NOW WE HAVE nadja from what we do in the shadows! what can i say about nadja apart from the fact that she is simply, and always will be, the vibe. i am holding her in my hand and she will bite my palm and then maybe kiss me a bit. i am obsessed with her. she deserves it. but more than that!! nadja is just so unapologetically herself and her ambition and humour are unmatched, but she also has such a sweet soft side that i can’t help but just scream and cry and throw things around my room. she is also a vampire and that is so fucking cool. she’s a leader, she’s a dumbass, she’s going to rip people throats out and honestly? she’s everything i want to be when i grow up. and her and lazlo are just goals. like the speech he gives about not caring about what anyone thought about her when he married her because none of that mattered to him like she did?? dead. im dead.

AND LASTLY a newer blorbo entering the ring- jamie tartt from ted lasso! now, i will gleefully admit i hated jamie through season one and much through season two but holy shit did ted lasso pull off a redemption like nothing ive ever seen before. really and truly, i did not expect to connect with jamie as much as i did. the last season but the character growth and storylines they gave him that shed some light onto why he was the way he was and how they connected so many things in with the earlier seasons that just made you see things in an entirely different way??? like he’s still a cocky prick, but he’s a cocky prick you can’t help but love and cheer for. and the scene where he tells roy that he’s just anxious and tired all the time really fucking hit home for me, even when they did end up playing it off as a bit of a joke, i just felt that moment so deep in my bones and funny little manchester-man jamie earned himself a spot in my brain.

OKAY IM DONE NOW thank you so so much for the ask and i apologize for the behemoth that this post became but GAH i just love my blorbos!! and thank you for the well-wishes! im finally home from work and am feeling better:)

[n3v3r-trust-th3-living]

It's of ourse sad seeing beetlejuice leave broadway,but all good things must come to an end one day and it was bound to happen, of course we prolly rather it be later than sooner.

I've been mostly working and keeping to myself but keeping myself updated with the tag and the musical and watching everything close and everyone say goodbye makes me incredibly emotional but im excited for the future of the tour and different productions after as well as possible future beetlejuice media. The tour is coming to my local theater and im incredibly excited to see it with my friend/roomate and making sure to save for seats and merch.

Were of course gonna see the fandom dwindle and die down more than it has because understandably there's no new media of beetlejuice out like before the musical and unfortunately because of precious fandom drama which I deeply regret taking part in. Shifting interests is definitely normal though and even happens to me even earlier in the fandom with some other special interests and hyperfixiations I've had, but I still love beetlejuice so much the musical, movie, and cartoon and despite fandom bullshit in the past the musical has made me so happy and reignited my love for one if my favorite films and my favorite t*m burton film.

Beetlejuice and of course beetlelands means so much to me and i love the musical for also helping me discover beetlelands one if my all time favorite ships and definitely influenced my artistically and made me realize i have a type when it comes to shipping(lol) even though lately I haven't really been able to draw or write much of anything due to personal reason including working alot and to put it lightly being in a slump but beetlelands has given so many ideas for aus and stories abd made me want to write again amongst other things because of my love for all the beetlejuice stories abd how long Beetlejuice has been in my life. And even despite fandom bullshit i appreciate all those things and the good memories i do have of the fandom and making beetlejuice art and stories,etc.

With that being said I really do miss making Beetlejuice art and stories including for all my au's since its a personal favorite hyperfixiation of and special interest of mine and I never really got to do a lot of art and writing of stories i wanted to tell and since its a personal favorite I still have many ideas rattling around in my brain that i'd love to share with anyone who's interested. I've been telling myself I wanted to draw and write for beetlejuice for a while now but in general just have been in a bad me tal place and just not happy with anything I make on top of life with work and other stresses. I cant promise im gonna update this blog very soon but im definitely gonna be here updating with with beetlejuice stuff like my writing, art, etc.

Since Beetlejuice is something that makes me personally happy and has been a favorite of mine for a big part of my life. Due so personal reasons as well its been a little hard to make anything beetlejuice related in the past few months as well een though I really wanted to. Im planning to rewrite and redo some aus, i have some new au ideas abd plenty of stories to tell here in my little Beetlejuice corner so if you're interested ill always be here, maybe alot sometimes I am trying to update stuff more here an make stuff for beetlejuice and beetleands, mostly for myself because it makes me happy but I'm happy when people like my beetlejuice art, writing, au, ideas, etc. And I do really appreciate the few people coming to this blog who like what I post I promise im not ignoring you I've just been burned out emotionally in to many ways and not been the best mentally in a while and I've felt terrible talking about things i was gonna draw/write and not doing it for a long time, not even just for beetlejuice but other fandoms.

And if adults in the fandom want to talk or ask about any of my aus and Beetlejuice stories, have requests, or want to talk beetlejuice or beetlelands my ask box is open I love exchanging ideas, art,stories, roleplaying, etc. I also have my main and a few other fandom blogs here on Tumblr and other sites I'll be on as well if anyone is interested.

Im mainly in a small corner here making my own beetlejuice art that makes me happy though and I do have many things id like to update here including my beetlelands songs of the day au, art, and even some fics when i can get the guts to actually write lol but I've been wanting to put my beetlejuice aus is different forms including trying my hand at writing fics again. I welcome anyone who's interested in that here but this is really mostly for my and what makes me happy and im not interested in any petty fandom drama or fighting tho I just like to mame stuff about my blorbos. Since this is also a general fandom blog for spooky Henry Selick and to a very lesser extent T*m Burton stories and I had previously planned to do a extended universe au type deal there with be other spooky fandoms here like corpse bride, nightmare before christmas, coraline, and even wendell and wild. And any other spooky things related that make me happy so if you're interested I'll be here so stay tuned, and goodbye Beetlejuice broadway! You've been a great part of my life and made me love Beetlejuice even more I look forward to the future of the actors of the musical, the musical when it tours especially when I can see it, and the future of Beetlejuice in general, and eve the possible future of the fandom like hopefully new fans discovering Beetlejuice and old fans re-descovering it or even fans of one of the Beetlejuice medias discovering the other.💜🖤💚🕷