#should I start tagging these with your troll's name?

[knavestrolls]

hEy Harvey, i nOtIcEd thAt sOmEOnE clOsE tO yOU Is hUrtIng vEry bAdly, wOUldn't It bE nIcE tO mAkE thAt pErsOn fEEL bEttEr?

I'm gonna be honest with you, sir. Vlad already done warned me 'bout you, and what you really want. Lucky for you he ain't my only one close. Bea's the closest thing I got to a moirail, and inspection's bearin' down over 'em right now. So you'll hafta tell me what it is you want in turn. I know where her body is, and I know there's been some hauntin's happenin' round there. You ain't tellin' my cherry pie we ever talked, got it?

[zivazivc]

I was just watching World Tour again. 😏 And was thinking about how the Funk Trolls switch between walking on two legs and four legs. Do you think baby Les ever tried to walk with four legs? Maybe Hed's dad discouraged it or something.

Love all your art and characters. 💕

Do they switch? I don't actually remember that. I kinda thought that half of them walk on two and half of them walk on all fours. But maybe there's a percentage that can do both, kind of like how some people can use both their left and rights hands to write.

But even so, Les isn't shaped enough like a funk troll for walking on fours to be natural for him, and his dad is two-legged too. (Maybe Flea can do it, I never drew his parents but I imagine his funk mom walking on fours.) ...But from how horrible Hed's dad was to him, yeah, I can totally imagine him discouraging something like that. Guy is a rancid piece of shit and he put that kid through so much... :((

[hellishjoel]

scream queen

6.6k / pairing: ghostface!joel miller x f!reader

← masterlist

summary: A stalker outside your window at night forces you to beg for your life in more ways than one. You do what it takes because you're a survivor. And you kind of like the mask on. A/N: please heed these warnings, as they can be triggering for some individuals. No one is forcing you to read this, and if it sounds unappealing, please keep scrolling. This is far different from what I usually post, but I’m feeling spooky and have rewatched the entire Scream franchise in 72 hours. Indented chat means ghostface’s voice changer is on. Thank you to Emmie @hyzer34 for the FREAKING AMAZING ghostface!joel edits! 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), horror, dark ghostface!joel, dubious consent (dubcon via manipulation/guilt/survival), reader has a boyfriend (what a drag) so I guess cheating/infidelity, swearing, taunting/stalker behavior, masked anonymous individual, strip show to save a life, male masturbation, threat of violence/death, begging for life, manhandling, spanking, rough oral (face fucking)(m!receiving), pet names, praise kink, degradation kink, clit smacking (?), life-threatening knifeplay, unprotected sex (p in v), the mask stays on ladies, plot twist ending? very barely edited heads-up

You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh.  You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him.  “Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him.  “Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties.  “Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more.  The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame.  “I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.”

It was a quiet fall evening. You sat on your boyfriend’s couch, ankles crossed along the extent of the cushions as you leafed through what was available on different streaming services. You wanted something spooky for Halloween but not something that would over-excite your imagination while alone. You’re wearing the same thing he left you in, red panties and an oversized black tee you had snagged from his closet. 

You figure your boyfriend should be home soon, so you start a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You sit up on the counter and kick your feet gently against the cabinets as you watch the time tick down, listening to each pop as it slowly rattles up its pace. 

Your phone’s ring catches your attention back in the living room. You assume it’s your boyfriend as you hop off the counter and swipe it from the arm of the chair. 

Unknown Caller

With a roll of your eyes, your tongue rutting out against your cheek, you deny the call. Probably a wrong number or an asshole troll since Halloween was nearing. You’re about to turn back to the kitchen, hearing the popcorn bag rattling with intensity when your phone goes off again. 

Stopped in your tracks, you watch your phone buzz with uncertainty as the screen flashes with the Unknown Caller tag once more. 

All of a sudden, the air is tight in your lungs, and your body is riddled with goosebumps. Now you were annoyed. You slid across the call button and pushed the phone to your ear. 

“You have the wrong number. Stop fucking calling me.”  You jam the blaring red end call button before huffing and returning to your popcorn. 

The timer slowly counts down, but each pop from the bag makes you jump. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 

Your body jolts as you hear something pound against the windows, throwing yourself back against the counter with wide eyes. 

“What the fuck!” You gasp as you rotate your head, searching from open window to open window where the banging was coming from. But there was nothing. No one. Your heart rate is slowly increasing, you can feel it jumping in your wrist and your neck.

Your feet quickly skid across the room, locking the house’s back door before running back towards the front entrance, flicking the lock in place. Even if it was nothing, at least you were safe. 

Standing still in the entryway, you observed the home to be dead quiet. Your fears were still nesting on your shoulders, that you weren’t alone. 

Your phone rings again, causing you to jump from the silence you had grown used to. With a distasteful grimace, you glance around as you walk towards your phone. You accept the call with hesitancy.  

“Who is this?” You ask, already maneuvering around the house and shutting all the curtains and blinds in your wake. “Whoever the hell you are, just stop fucking calling me.”  You try not to let the panic that’s sitting in your throat be exposed over the phone. Whoever has called you hasn’t spoken yet. 

“Hello?” You ask, pausing in the kitchen as you finish your rounds around the first floor. 

“Now that is how you answer a phone call.” The voice isn’t familiar, it’s almost… animatronic? It didn’t sound like a person, but the languidness of their voice was all too human. It was low, primal. 

Now, you’ve seen these movies before, you weren’t an idiot, and you weren’t going to be one tonight. 

“What are you going to ask me? What’s my favorite scary movie?” You taunt, yanking the microwave door open and retrieving the piping hot bag of popcorn from inside, sucking in a harsh breath as your fingertips branded red from the heat. 

The voice on the line laughs. It’s almost sinister, not at all comforting. You’re not even sure why you’re entertaining this jackass who’s calling you when all they’ve done so far is giggle at your expense. 

“How did you even get this number, you fucking troll?” You probe, frowning as you squeeze your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you pry open the popcorn bag. Of course, it bursts, sending a few pieces scattered around the kitchen. You simply roll your eyes and sigh at the inconvenience. 

“Why don’t you be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?” 

You squat down to pick up the kernels you dropped, only realizing the extent of what the voice said a moment later. Your eyes widen, and your chest surges with panic. You look around, but all the windows are closed and covered. Was that just a lucky guess, or is someone watching you? 

Out of instinct, you reach for the knife block on the kitchen counter and yank out the biggest one. The blade gleams silver in the light, and you realize how exposed you are. 

You set down the knife on the counter and quickly move around the house, shutting off the lights and concealing you in a dim darkness. 

“What happened to the show? Why did the curtain close?” The low, sinister voice asks, and you whimper quietly in your hand to conceal your fear. “I liked watching you walk around,” he pauses, and all you can hear is your heart pounding, “in those red little panties.” 

You hate to admit that this flicks a nasty switch in you, chased and taunted, talked down to by an unknown figure. As much as you’re scared, a small churning begins low in your tummy, and you clench your thighs tighter together. 

With a shaky breath, you nibble on your lower lip and slowly move towards the front windows. You slowly peek them open, seeing nothing but your reflection and darkness. 

“Can you see me?” You ask nervously, licking at your lower lip. 

“Ahhh, there she is.” The voice praises, forcing you to swallow a lump down your throat. “Push those curtains open all the way. Want to see all of you.” You shiver, and the pooling in your panties only becomes more urgent. Someone’s watching you, and they like what they see. 

Following the anonymous caller’s instructions, you slowly push open the curtains, your body backlist by a dim light still on in the kitchen. The voice hums in appreciation. 

You blame it on your state of panic for not thinking clearly or logically for that manner. This creep wanted you, you could hear the slight desperation clinging to their voice. 

“Promise me you won’t fuckin’ harm me, and I-I’ll put on a show for you. Isn’t that what you want? You said you liked my panties.” You breathily point out, opting to put the phone on speakerphone and setting it down on the bench in front of the now curtain-drawn windows. 

The voice on the other line hums, pondering your offer. A shiver rolls over your spine as you subconsciously cross your arms in front of your body, scared and nerve-wracked. 

“You have a gorgeous body. Let me see it. All of it.” The voice echoes within the quiet home, and you blink back the fear that is resting heavily on your chest. You take in a shaky breath and do as you are told. 

Your hands go to the hem of your top, about to lazily toss it off when you are tsk tsk-ed at. You frown and quickly pull the t-shirt back down. 

“Not like that!” The voice barks, angry and condescending, making you whimper. The voice pauses and takes a breath. “Slower.” 

“Slower..” you whisper back, hearing the voice hum. You still couldn’t see outside, merely darkness and your reflection. You were fucking terrified, but if this was what they wanted, just maybe they’d let you be. 

You try again. Your hands slowly start at the sides of your neck, pretty and dainty fingers cascading down to your clavicle. You push one hand into the hair at the back of your neck, lightly ruffling the strands while the other skims lower to more dangerous territory. 

The heel of your palm skirts down the front of your shirt until your fingers flitter over the hem of your panties. 

It feels stupid what you’re doing, but it makes you feel alive. Your heart has never beat faster. You’ve never turned on a complete stranger, stalker, even. You were in control of the show here. 

You’re not exactly sure what to look at in the window, so you admire the reflection. You hum sweetly as you hook your thumbs into the tops of your panties. You loop them around, from front to back, stopping at the sides and lightly pushing down to show glimpses of your hips. 

The breathing on the other end shuffles. It almost makes you stop. 

“This turn you on?” You ask. “Does this make you have your hand around your cock?” You ask into the phone, smiling lightly as you turn around, lifting up the shirt from covering your ass, giving them a peek-a-boo of you from the back. 

The evil voice echoes a laugh. “How did you know?” 

Being correct makes you all the more turned on. “How could you not?” 

I mean, look at you. You looked gorgeous and confident, silhouetted by the light, awed by a strange man. You can hear them jerking it on the line, murmuring little grunts to try and not get ahead of themselves. The show had just begun. 

With your back turned to the window still, you cross your arms over your threshold, retrieve your shirt, and lift it up and off of you. Your hair cascades and dances around your back and shoulders. You felt bare, cold. Part of you wished they would come inside and warm you up. 

You peer over your shoulder, hearing the approving grunt on speakerphone. You bit on your thumbnail, looking through the glass with big doe eyes. 

“You’re not so innocent, pretty girl. Let me see you.” 

Now, with your body to show, you felt a bit more nervous. Your fingertips twitched, and you felt shaky on your legs. You did as the voice asked, turning to face the window. Your arms are crossed, covering your bare breasts meekly. 

That’s when you see him. A masked man standing a fair distance away out your window. It quickens your pulse and surges you with adrenaline. 

Yet you don’t run. You don’t hide. 

Your eyes flitter down to their hand shuffling up and down the extent of their cock. The sight alone, even in the dark, being able to see his impressive length was enough to make you let out a needy whimper.

“I-I don’t know about this,” you whimper, your head falling a bit shamefully. It’s like your head caught up with your foolish actions. 

“I’m warning you. Put down your fucking arms.” 

You let out a shaky breath and wince at the voice, tears simmering on your waterline. You put yourself in this position, you can’t believe you thought this would work. 

You slowly drop your hands to your sides, exposing your breasts. And how embarrassing they were, taut and at peaks. They were flush with color, begging for attention. You interlocked your fingers behind your back and chewed on your bottom lip, shyly looking down at the floor as you clamped your thighs tightly together. 

“You’re a real beautiful girl,” the voice grunted, flattering you with attention. “Why don’t you let me in.” 

The demand didn’t frighten you like maybe it should have. Frankly, you were turned on to the point where it nearly hurt. You didn’t know who this mystery person was or what their intentions were, but they were getting off to seeing you exposed, scared, and alone. 

“Come on,” the voice continues. You hear shuffling, and when you look up, the masked man outside your window is gone. You move closer and peer outside, but it’s quiet. Empty. 

“Let me take care of you, sweet girl.” 

Breaths fans out hastily from your nostrils, panicked as you looked around slowly from the front entrance to the back. 

The doorbell rings, and it makes you jump nonetheless. 

You bite down on your bottom lip as you retrieve your phone and slowly cross to the door in just your socks and underwear. Your forearm covers your breasts. Your hand rests on the handle, but you have a hard time willing yourself to open it. 

The doorbell rings again, another jump through your bones, but this time, it implores you to swing the door open. And there he was. 

He was tall, you had to crane your neck to look up. Your lips part, doe eyes taking in how close he is, stepping back in shock at his appearance. Broad shoulders cloaked by a black hooded robe. It was tattered, lined with rips and tears at the seams that draped from his arms. He also wore large, black, combat boots. The scariest thing of all was the mask. It was white with black eyes and a sloped open black mouth. 

Whoever was behind the mask was fit. Their toned body could be discovered even behind the robust black robe. He wore black gloves, too. You don’t realize that as you’re taking him in, the protective arm you had concealing your breasts has since lowered. 

“Scary night to be alone, isn’t it?” The voice is still animatronic as the masked man’s head tilts and observes you through the black cloth eye holes. 

You nod your head, its pace quick. 

“Invite me in. Don’t want you to catch a chill.” 

It was disturbing to admit how stupid you felt letting this freakshow stalker into your boyfriend’s home, but in a really weird and taboo way, you found the anonymity of the man attractive. You saw his cock while he stood outside, his large hand stroking over himself at the sight of your body. You figure he must have put the gloves back on once he wanted to come inside. 

As if he could read your mind, the masked man stepped inside with his tall stature looming over yours. He slowly plucked off one of his gloves, and you see his flesh. 

You watch him carefully as he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You flinch at first, but there is truly nothing to be frightened of. He strokes away a dry, panicked tear from earlier. You can’t help but let out a shaky, wavering whimper. He touches you with such delicacy but hides behind a mask that scares you to your core. 

“Just as I thought,” His animatronic voice echoed, his hand dropping to your hair that fell around your face and sweeping it behind your shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”

Your hair was no longer concealing your breasts. You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh. 

You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him. 

“Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him. 

“Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties. 

“Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more. 

The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame. 

“I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.” He aggressively cups your sex, feeling his fingers squish with the soaked material of your red panties. You whimper and clutch his arm, biting back whimpery moans that you’re so desperate to let out. You were secretly begging to be touched. Your thighs clamp around the man’s hand. 

He deviously chuckles. “This is all for me, sweet girl?” 

The man walks you backward until your back is flushed to the wall. You’re still holding his arm in place between your thighs. His fingers add pressure to your bundle of nerves. You lightly grind your hips down into his fingers and let out an embarrassed little moan. 

“Y-Yes.” Admitting in defeat made your stomach churn. “But I want to hear your voice.” You whisper, unsure if you can even make demands in your position right now. 

Ghostface sighs weakly but plucks something out from under his mask. It looks sort of like a smaller walkie-talkie. It was a voice changer. Your eyes flitter to the eyes of his mask. It was black, empty. Finally, you would hear his true voice, and you prayed it was as sexy as he looked. 

“Is this what you wanted to hear, darlin’?” 

You lightly gasp at the southern drawl, deep and guttural, musk-filled and leaving you in a tailspin. His voice was hot, causing a pool of your white-hot heat to leak once more into your panties. You finally nod to his question and let your hands skim across the man’s front. He was toned, like you imagined, with hardened plains and a toughened, thick torso under his black cloak. 

“You’re comin’ with me.” The voice growls. He leans down and scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you gasp and whimper, feeling him trail you up the stairs. His black combat boots echo loudly through the stairwell. He’s so strong. How he knows the layout of the house scares you and implores you. It’s like he knows you, and you may know him. 

He takes you to the master bedroom, the one you share with your boyfriend. Fuck, your boyfriend. A naughty sin to cheat, a naughty sin to like it. It’s hard to picture him right now with the man above you captivating your full attention. 

Your breasts jiggle when he throws you back onto the mattress. You scramble further up it, putting a safe distance between you and Ghostface. He grips you at your ankles and pulls you to him in an eager yank. A cry escapes your throat, but it’s just because you’re nervous. You saw how big he was in his hand outside, and now, soon, you’d hope he would be inside of you. 

“Please,” you whimper, and Ghostface tilts his head. “I-I..” you trail off and shake your head, embarrassment and shame pumping through your veins. 

“You, what? Spit it out, pretty girl.” The voice says as he slowly takes off the hooded robe. He wears black pants and a black t-shirt under it but keeps the mask on. You like the mask on. 

“I… I need you, Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. Since he pulled you by your ankles back to the edge of the bed, your centers lightly graze one another. You make it a point to grind your hips eagerly into his, smearing the front of his pants with your slick. 

The masked man hums in appreciation. You feel his hardened length concealed by his pants. Whimpers leave your mouth as you sit up and reach forward, unbuttoning the black pants with shaky hands. You unzip him and yank him free of his confines. You nearly freeze at his length, prominent veins lining up and down his cock from his pink tip to his swollen balls. 

“You wanna live tonight, baby girl?” The low southern voice asks. You quickly nod, big, desperate eyes wanting to fill his every carnal need. 

“Then get on your fucking knees, m’gonna fuck your throat.” 

He’s aggressive as he pulls you down onto the floor by your hair. You scream out of instinct, but the heat on your scalp brings needy relief. 

You quickly scramble properly to your knees and shuffle your hand over him. One hand isn’t enough, so you add your second. He’s so large and girthy. Fucking your mouth would hurt so good. You hope you’re a slobbering mess for him once he’s done with you. 

“Did I say your hands?” You frown and slowly stop, shaking your head. “I said your throat, want your fucking throat, you little slut.” 

You whimper and force yourself to put your hands behind your back, your breasts perking out more as you spit over him, watching it glide down his shaft and spill onto your shaking thighs. You lick your lips and wrap your mouth around his sensitive tip. 

The masked man seethes through his teeth. He takes off both gloves and knots his fingers into your hair. You’re intimidated by his size, anyone would be, so you try to relax your throat and let him sink further and further in. 

Your eyes go wide as he rams himself down your throat impatiently. Your hands instinctively fly up to his thighs, smacking at them and clutching desperately, trying to explain with a lack of words that you’re choking on him. You cry out, but his cock muffles you. 

“M’not a patient man, I’m warning you now.” 

You clench your teary eyes closed and sniffle, trying your best to swallow around him and breathe through your nose. Your black mascara tears turns him on, and he twitches in your mouth. 

With a shaky breath, you try again. You have to start slow at first, but you remember how impatient he is. You slick his cock with your spit, trying to work up his shaft inch by inch. 

“Open your mouth up, nice and wide for me.” The sight of his mask makes you twitch, but you do as he says and drop your jaw for him. You even go as far as to stick out your tongue for him. 

“Wow,” he admires, as both of his hands wind up into your hair and carve out sections of your hair to create ponytails in his fists. “Such a good girl f’me.” 

His praise makes you purr, bringing your hands up to your front as you massage over the squishy flesh of your tits. 

You let out a low mewl as he stuffs your mouth again, stuffing your face with his cock. It takes a few moments, but you gradually learn how to accommodate him. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, and he likes it when you choke around him. You try to see him through your teary eyes, whimpering around his cock. 

The masked man’s grip on your hair tightens as he pulls you into his cock and holds you there, balls flushed to your mouth as they smack against your chin. He groans, long and low, holding you down as his cock suffocates your throat. You swallow around him, tasting drops of precum, whimpering around him as you struggle to breathe. Despite it causing you to choke even more around him, you stick out as much of your tongue as you can and teasingly lick at his balls. 

He sucks in harshly through his teeth and moans, gripping the ponytails even tighter, making your scalp sear in pain. But it was all worth it because he was so goddamn big in your throat. You hoped he would split your pussy. 

With a harsh yank, the masked man rips you from his cock. You instantly cough and gag, trying to swallow around the excessive puddles of saliva grouping in the back of your throat and now dripping out of your mouth. You looked like a disgusting mess.

You plant your hands on the floor and drop your head, looking like a dog as you shakily regain your breathing. You slowly look up, seeing his hardened cock slap up against his toned stomach, dripping with your slobber. 

You meekly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand up, your legs shaking beneath you. With as much courage as you can muster, you reach for Ghostface’s hand and slowly pull it to your center as you sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Please,” you beg in a meek whisper, swallowing the messy amount of existing saliva and precum down your throat as you blink through black, mucky, mascara tears. Your eyes flutter as his long, meaty fingers slowly circle around your clit through your panties. It’s jaw-dropping, stomach-fluttering madness. It’s like he knows you like the back of your hand. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper desperately, pulling him slowly towards the direction of the bed. Towards you. 

You don’t feel any more safe with him, but you like the excitement of feeling on the fence. Would he be rough or gentle with you? Call you his sweet girl or his little slut? The edging of unsureness and torrid manipulation has forced white hot heat to pool into your core, and you sure as hell spoiled these red panties enough. 

The masked man drops his gaze to your mound. His hands reach up to the sides of your hips. 

It’s slow and desperate at first, he almost fools you. Ghostface weakly chuckles before he begins to rip the measly material from your lower half. You yelp out as it causes your body to get tugged around. Your panties are now a mess of threads on the floor. You whimper desperately, clamping your thighs closed on instinct despite wanting the opposite. 

Ghostface grabs your ankles and forcibly parts your legs, turning his head slowly as he watches your glistening core. 

“Y-You could have a taste, y’know, if you take off the mask.” You offer, your heart pounding in your chest. You loosely hook your leg around his hip and pull him closer. Ghostface plants his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you as his heavy breath puffs through the mask. 

Ghostface pulls one hand away to his side and shucks something off his belt. You gasp and flinch your eyes closed as a large knife glimmers in the moon’s light. 

“You think I’m going to show you my face, you stupid bitch? Huh?” He taunts you, wielding the knife closer and closer to your throat as you cry out, but clamp your legs tighter around his waist and pull your centers together. You can feel his fat cock sliding up and down your exposed folds. You’re so needy, and it’s repulsive. 

He sickeningly laughs, jutting the tip of his knife against the underside of your chin. It hurts, it stings, and you hope it leaves a mark from him so you can look at it later when you replay this night in your mind. You hope he spares you so you can think endlessly about him. 

“I-I want you to keep the mask on.” You purr nervously, your hand drifting down your stomach towards your exposed mound. 

Ghostface chuckles, low and demonic. “You want me to fuck you with the mask on?”  He asks slowly, trilled with curiosity. 

It fills you with a pit of guilt and shame in your stomach. But you slowly nod. You were willing to risk everything, your boyfriend, your safety, your life, just to ensure this man filled you to the brim like you know he could. 

“Please do. Fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.” You beg. Though you can’t see, you imagine him smirking behind his mask, looking at you with a sense of intrigue and disgust. How could you be so twisted? 

“My pleasure.” He says goadingly, ripping the hold you had on the sheets and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You cry out as he forcibly spreads your legs with his body and slaps his cock against your aching center. You’re so sensitive from waiting, you needed to have him this very second. 

A smirk twitched on your lips, but you forced yourself to bite it down, shakily moaning as Ghostface tucks away his knife and wraps his large hand around his cock, lining up his tip to your dripping center. You flinch every time he purposely flicks your anxious bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, your hand clutching his bicep greedily. “Please, need to feel you inside of me.” You whimper. 

Ghostface reaches up and smears his hand down your face, your cheeks smudged with your mucky tears as you whine like a little brat. For your insolence, he strikes you across the face before nastily grabbing you by your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. 

“Bein’ a real fuckin’ brat for a stranger’s dick, such a fucking hungry cock slut, aren’t you?” He degraded you to your very core, soiling his cock in your gushing slick. You were pretty sure that if he even just breathed over your mound, you would come. 

Ghostface enjoys your desperate whimpers for his dick. He’s more than happy to deliver. He angles his tip to your entrance and notches himself inside. Your gasp surges his adrenaline as he parts you egregiously. 

You hook your hands on the underside of your legs, keeping yourself wide and spread for the masked man above you. Inch by inch, you feel your head lose focus, your mind floating as you see stars that consume your vision. 

The moans you give him are heavenly, he thinks he’s never heard a more beautiful thing. He’s a sadist watching you take his cock, knowing it hurts, knowing you’re forcing yourself open for him, knowing how much you’re drunk off it. He just can’t help himself to wait. 

Air is knocked from your lungs when Ghostface decides he’s, again, not a patient man. He fucks the last few inches into you and hard, pushing you to your limits and filling you to the brim. 

Your head is thrown back as you scream in shock, never having been fucked by someone who feels so good. You sob as your walls flutter around him, attempting to accommodate the size in such a short amount of time.

“Yes! Jesus Christ- Fuck!” You moan out, to which Ghostface chuckles lowly. 

“Take me so well,” he’s trying to breathe through being squeezed so tightly by your walls, even he finds it difficult. “Such a pretty girl, just needs to be fucked to keep her- shit - her goddamn mouth shut.” The man growls behind the mask and starts to fuck you at an earth-shattering pace. 

You cry out in shock, gripping Ghostface at his biceps and whimpering at how strong he is. He pulls himself nearly all the way out of you before he flushes his hips right back to you, slapping your ass cheeks with his clothed thighs. That’s when he really begins to rail you. 

You see stars, still adjusting to his size, your slick pooling around him with excitement. You hazily smile, fucked dumb by a stranger, filled to the brim as you stare at the ceiling. Your visions jumps up and down as Ghostface pounds you senselessly. The bedframe rattles and the legs skirt against the hardwood floors. 

Impatient whines from you fill the room as he pulls himself from your pussy, moaning out for him needily. He manhandles you, grabbing your hips forcefully and flipping you over onto your stomach. 

“Ass up, let’s go.” He commands. 

You were still in a funk, head wiped empty of any palpable information. You whimpered as you tried to move but at the pace of a snail. 

His impatient hands grip you tightly at your hips, forcing a broken yelp from your throat as he pulls you up to bend over, shoving your face into the mattress and angling your ass up for him to use. 

“Yes, please use me,” you whimper desperately, reaching your hands back and parting your ass cheeks for him. “Finish inside me, use me as your cum dumpster.” Where was this language coming from?! This wasn’t you, you didn’t sound or look like you. He was turning you into someone new, someone satisfied by his anonymity. You’d never know who was fucking you senseless, and it might drive you mad until you find out, if you ever will, that is. 

Your thoughts are squashed from your mind as a harsh slap followed by a greedy grip is splayed across your ass. A yelp is pulled from your throat, instincts telling you to flinch away and protect yourself. 

“Ah-ah,” the man teases, his angry fingers creating bruises on your hips as he pulls you back to the edge of the bed to be his little sex servant. “Good girls take what they are given, so take it,” Ghostface says as he smacks your other cheek, reddening them both, jiggling the flesh much to his appeal. 

His large palms seared his prints into your ass, gripping your ass and pulling you to his cock. He lines himself up, and you take him again. 

You don’t understand unless it’s happening to you, how it feels like you’re floating in space, fucked numb but also feeling like you’re on pins and needles. It’s indescribable to enjoy being fucked by a stranger, but it’s happening, and it’s happening to you. 

He penetrates you, parting your walls, making himself a home inside you. You squeeze around him, and he moans. It satisfies you so intensely.   

“Beg for me,” he mutters through the mask, grunting with each thrust. He must be close.

“P-Please, keep fucking me so good, please Mr. Ghostface-”

“No!” He strikes your pretty ass again, hard, and your warm flesh singes with heat. You whimper, imagining how red, angry, and large his handprint looks stamped on your ass. 

“Want you to beg... for your life.” His voice had turned as cold as stone, ridged with a sadist tone that left goosebumps bubbling on the surface of your skin. A scared feeling sunk into the pit of your stomach. You swallowed a lump down your throat and shyly peeked around your shoulder to take him in. 

“P-Please… I want to live,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as Ghostface slowly picks back up the paces of his thrusts. He’s turned on by this. 

“Oh my- please, I know you d-don’t know me, but I’m good, l-look how good I’m being for you,” you begin to cry as he fucks you harder, your ass clapping aggressively against his thighs and the grip he has on your hips intensifies. 

He loves fucking you until you cry. Such a sadist. 

Ghostface gives a few last gut-twisting thrusts, and his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly. He’s so large you can feel him in your tummy. His hand reaches around your hip, and the other stays gripping your ass while he spanks your clit lightly with his fingers. 

“Fuck!” You cry out, beginning to throw your ass back into him, creating your own unique rhythm together. You’re so sensitive, and you’re coming before you can even fully register it. 

“Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. “I-I’m coming so fu-ucking hard,” you mewl for him, your thighs twitching along with your walls that squeeze around him, begging to milk him for his seed. 

Ghostface’s thick and angry cock twitches inside of you, desperate to fill your needy hole with his sperm. He grunts and pants into the mask, filling his own body with a heat that makes him sweat. He pounds himself into you until you’re flattened against the mattress, begging for release, begging to live. 

There’s something about your obedience that he gives into, his cock twitching deep inside the warm comfort of your walls and between your beautiful ass cheeks. He pulls out and pants, handling his cock as he paints your ass white. 

The warm droplets of come make you twitch, but it’s so hot to be painted white by the man who praised you and degraded you all night long. 

You’re a heap of nothing strewn about the mattress. You can’t seem to calm your shaky breath. You lay there limp, unable to move, unable to think. All you can think about is the man behind the mask and how irate and perverted he is. And how much you fell into his trap. 

Shame twisted your guts enough, forcing you to get up and turn around and face your stalker. But when you turned back, he was gone. How long were you not paying attention? 

You quickly retrieved your robe, forcing yourself to walk despite your legs feeling like liquid gelatin. Checking room to room, you survey your boyfriend's home and are left empty-handed. It’s like he was never here. 

From the top of the stairs, you hear the door open and close.

“Honey?” Your heart sinks, hearing your boyfriend kick off his shoes on the mat. 

Rushing down the stairs, you collapse into his arms and cry out of guilt. You tell him everything. Everything besides the show in front of the windows and getting fucked by Ghostface in his own bed. There’s more to leave out than to leave in, but the short story is that you were taunted over the phone by a masked man, scared to death, and begged for your life. 

His first reaction was to call the police, and despite how much you hesitated, you let him. Two nice offers responded to the call. They sat you two down separately and asked you what had happened. You were wrapped in a blanket and your robe, shaking in disappointment. 

It was scary, lying to the cops, withholding all of the truth. Making sure not to overshare any details. You also didn’t want to give away that you liked it. To the bone, you liked it. 

You were hunted like prey tonight, used, fucked hard until you couldn’t breathe. Left in the dark, feeling a little crazy if it even happened in the first place. But you could feel him still inside of you, stretched and still leaking between your thighs. You tugged your robe tighter, smiling weakly at the officer as he closed his notebook. 

“We’ll figure out what we can ma’am. For now, keep everything locked up. I wouldn’t leave the house alone.” You wipe away the mucky mascara on your cheeks and sigh, nodding as you walk with the officer to the door. 

His badge read J. Miller. He was older, stippled with grey hair within his dark curly locks. He had an aquiline nose and plumish-rose lips. His broad chest strikes something somewhat familiar to you. He glances behind you at the officer who is still asking your boyfriend a few questions. 

Officer Miller sighed, looking over the door frame curiously. 

“Said you locked the doors?”

You hesitate but nod compliantly. 

His pointer finger shapes over the lock, then the entry metal hinge. “No forced entry.” He notes, looking at you curiously. 

You evade his eye contact and conceal yourself tighter in your blanket and robe. “I.. I don’t know how he got in.” Your eyes find the floor, planting themselves there as you stare at Officer Miller’s familiar black police boots. 

He hums curiously, looking over you slowly. 

“You’re tellin’ me everythin’ that happen to you tonight?” 

Your doe eyes go wide, your head snapping up to Officer Miller’s. “I-I promise, please, Officer Miller-” 

He holds up a hand to cut you off, and you weakly stand there with your lips parted. Then he starts to nod and slowly smile. “That’s a good girl.” 

It strikes you like a bolt of lightning, fear and curiosity consume you. You hear footsteps behind you, the other officer, and your boyfriend, who collects his arm around your shoulders. 

Officer Miller watches you with a glint of intrigue but nothing more. His eyes shift to your boyfriend’s arm protectively wrapped around you. It makes him twitch up a stomach-twisting smile before he turns to his fellow officer. 

“Got everything you need?” Officer Miller asks, tucking his thumbs into the front of his belt while he observes the other officer’s notepad. The officer nods and places his small notebook and pen in his breast pocket. 

“Got everything we need. You two stay safe.” 

The other officer ducks out first and nods curtly, Officer J. Miller stands there a moment longer. 

“Happy Halloween.” He said with a sickening smile. “Be sure to lock the door behind me.” 

You gulp as you look over Officer Miller meekly before he disappears outside and into the night. Where he belonged.   

---

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[24hlevi]

— THE IDOL

itoshi rin x male!reader

summary: y/n is a famous pop idol, and rin is his biggest fan. what happens when y/n announces his brand new album "mood swings in this order" along with a tour to be held later in the year? surely, nothing too bad. right?

warnings/tags: language, nsfw implications (cum is said)

wc: 2.6 k

chapter one of the PAPARAZZI series

Being a pop star was difficult at times. From dealing with promotions, tours, and interviews, to crazy fans, trolls, and stalkers. But, none of that fazed you. Should it? Compared to some other idols, you went through a bit more than others, purely because of you embracing your sexuality in both the romance aspect and the performance aspect. You weren't afraid to do crazy concepts that would make fans turn and hate on the idol immediately. You definitely weren't afraid to express how you liked men, and while that may have caused a ruckus during your debut, it all worked out in the end somehow.

At the current moment, you were doing a photo shoot for your new album that you were soon to release the first single for. You had been taking photos for at least two hours, and you were getting irritated by the photographer telling you to do the same pose you’d already done fifteen times. After one last shot, you clasped your hands together.

“Can we take ten?” You said it loud enough for everyone to hear.

Murmurs of yes and thank gods came from the staff at your words, and everyone immediately split off into different areas of the house. With a sigh, you got up off the bed and walked outside where the balcony was, looking down at your backup dancers practicing the routine.

“So, how do we feel about the shoot, Y/n?”

You turned your head to see your assistant and best friend, Mikage Reo standing beside you. “Well, I’ve been taking the same photos for hours, how would you feel?”

Reo chuckled and nodded. “I know.” He followed your gaze towards the dancers before speaking more. “How do you feel about the choreo? Is it too hard? Do I need to make any adjustments? Do you not like any of the backup dancers?”

“Reo,” You said, placing both your hands on his shoulders. “Everything is fine, I swear. As long as things don't go shitty, everything will work out amazingly.” You reassured him.

Reo sighed and nodded again. “I guess,” he said. “I just want this album to be your biggest yet, and that's what Anri wants as well. She’s been super stressed recently trying to put all this together.”

“I understand,” You acknowledged, removing your hands from his shoulders. “But everything is going to be fine, stop worrying so much.”

“Okay,” He sighed again and nodded.

Meanwhile, your manager, Anri was dealing with a big problem with some of the other staff.

“What the fuck do you mean?” The woman spat out angrily at their social media manager.

“Look,” They handed Anri the phone.

She looked at the picture and her eyes went wide. “Has this hit the public yet?”

“Yes.”

“Shit,” Anri cursed, handing the phone back. “We have to tell him.”

“Are you serious?” The social media manager looked at her with shock. “What if it causes a breakdown of some kind?”

“He can deal with it. Follow me.” Anri told them, starting to walk to where you and Reo were.

“Y/n!” Anri called your name. “We have a big problem!”

You and Reo both turned to look at Anri speed walking towards you two, making you look at her in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“This.” Anri shoved the photo in your face. “What the hell were you thinking going to a club with Ryusei and having this happen?!”

Looking at the photo, your eyes widened at the image. “I thought- he told me he deleted it!” You defended.

“And you believed him?!” Anri exclaimed. “Y/n, this is already trending on all social media, and not in a good way. You and Ryusei are not together. But now that everyone has seen this image, it's chaotic. His management isn't responding and either we have to say it's not real or you admit it and we pray this doesn't fuck anything up. So what do you want to do?”

“I guess I should admit-”

“We’ll say it's fake,” Reo cut you off before you could finish, making you look at him with confusion. “This will damage everything if we say that it's real. Can you imagine what the public will think? How are we supposed to hold a tour when they have seen someone's fucking cum on his face?”

“It’s not like Ryusei is some stranger,” You said.

“It’s still not good, Y/n,” Reo replied. “We have to say it’s fake, and hope his management says the same thing.”

“This is the best decision, Y/n,” Anri told you. “This also means you cannot see Ryusei anymore, he is going to damage your whole career if you go out with him again. Do you understand?”

You felt cornered. It was rare for Reo to take this kind of side in things, and it made you feel like you were being cornered into doing what they thought was best. While, usually they were right in matters like this. It was like you had no real control over anything anymore. With a short nod, you responded. “I understand.”

“Good, now get back to finishing the shoot while I figure out how to deal with this,” Anri said before walking back inside the house.

As soon as Anri was out of hearing distance, Reo quickly turned to you. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What?” You asked, looking back at him. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You look like a whore!” Reo whisper-yelled to you. “Do you understand that? This is not good! Ryusei is going to ruin this whole album! You need to stop seeing him!”

You stared at your friend in slight shock. Yet, you knew he was right. Consistently time after time again Shidou Ryusei has done something to fuck over your reputation leaving you to rebuild it again and again. But, you couldn’t stop seeing him. It was hard. But, you had to stop now. “Okay,” You said quietly, nodding your head.

“Now let’s get back to the shoot,” Reo said, grabbing your arm and pulling you along with him back inside the house.

You sat back down on the bed, adjusting your robe as the photographer came back and stood in front of the bed. You stared at the camera with what they later called a “killer look” that you should’ve had from the very beginning in your debut album. But, they didn’t understand what that look really meant. Not even Reo, who had been your best friend since you two were in middle school. They said the distant look in your eyes was perfect for the album, but they didn’t realize that this was going to end up being just the beginning of things. It was just that no one knew it yet. Not even you.

…

“Y/n, wake up,” Reo’s voice woke you up as he opened the curtains of your room.

You groaned lightly, covering your face with your hands as Reo sighed, walking over to you.

“Come on, you have to get up. We have to talk with PR,” He said, handing you a cup of coffee.

“Oh, great,” You mumbled, sitting up and taking the coffee from him. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Not yet,” Reo shook his head. “Ryusei’s management finally responded an hour ago.”

“What did they say?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee after.

“Well, they are with us on saying the picture was fake,” Reo started. “Which is good, but…”

“But?” You tilted your head to the side.

“But, they also want to say it’s for your concept of this album,” Reo finished.

“What?” You questioned.

“Anri already told them how terrible of an idea that is so hopefully that won’t happen. But, it’s obvious Ryusei is trying to work his way around things. You must not let him, do you understand?” Reo told you.

You nodded your head slowly. “I understand.”

“Good, now get up.”

…

After finishing the long meeting with your PR team, you were finally able to go back home. You sat at the pool with a drink in your hand, sunglasses on with your eyes closed when you heard footsteps approach you.

“Yo! Y/n!”

You opened your eyes and turned your head to see your best dancer for your career so far, Hyoma Chigiri. “Chigiri! What’s up?” You replied, taking a sip of your drink.

“Do you wanna go out tonight?” Chigiri asked you. “There’s this new club I checked out last week and it was killer. You should come with me tonight.”

“Will Ryusei be there? I’m not really allowed to hang around him anymore.” You said, stirring the straw around in your drink.

“Nope,” Chigiri shook his head. “But who knows! Maybe you’ll meet someone better.” He smiled.

“True,” You acknowledged with a nod. “Sure, why not?” You eventually answered.

“Awesome, I’ll be here at 8 to pick you up then,” He said, patting your bare shoulder before walking away.

You hummed shortly in response, waving your hand and taking a sip of your drink. Hopefully, this would be nice for you. If not, it at least couldn’t hurt to go out with your friend. You finished your drink in another sip and set it down beside you, putting your arms behind your head as support and closing your eyes again.

…

Chigiri showed up a little late, which you didn’t mind since you weren’t even ready in the first place. You put your shoes on and heard your phone buzz, making you look at it to see Chigiri’s message that he was there. You put your phone in your pocket and left your house, immediately spotting the car near the front gate and you hurried towards it, the cool air freezing through the light materialized shirt you were wearing.

You opened the door and climbed inside the car, seeing Chigiri and he smiled at you.

“Hey! Looking good,” He said to you.

“You too,” You responded, putting the seatbelt on. “So, where’s this place at?”

“Only where the best clubs are,” Chigiri answered, pulling out of your driveway and back onto the road.

“Awesome,” You said, leaning your head against the headrest.

By the time you two arrived, it was half past nine, and the club had just opened at nine. When you stepped out of the car, your eyes squinted at the bright neon lights saying the name of the club that you were unable to read.

“Come on,” Chigiri grabbed your arm and pulled you inside with him.

You were immediately met with the loud booming music and neon lights, making you look around in awe at the place. “This place looks wicked,” You said.

“It is,” Chigiri answered, pulling you along more to get drinks.

While waiting for the drinks, you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see a man staring at you. He quickly looked away once you noticed his gaze on you, and you watched as one of his friends started talking to him. You looked away when the drinks arrived, and Chigiri took his and went off somewhere, leaving you alone at the bar. You took a sip of the drink and made a sour face.

“Not your taste?”

You turned your head at the voice, seeing the male who was staring at you now standing in front of you. “Not really,” You shook your head. “I like harsher drinks.” You answered.

“Hey! Rufio!” The man called for the bartender, who hurried over to you two. “Get this lovely man here a new drink. Let’s say, a double jack and coke?” He said, glancing over at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, that works,” You nodded your head.

The bartender quickly made the new drink and handed it to you. You took a sip and looked at the male in front of you. “You can sit, if you want,” You offered, gesturing to the chair.

“I was actually going to ask if you wanted to dance,” He said.

“Ah,” You let out. ‘Well, I usually like a drink or two before dancing.”

“But-”

“Hey!” A voice echoed throughout the club.

The man looked away from you and at the younger male approaching the two of you at a fast-paced walk, and he looked terrified.

“What the fuck did I say about you coming back here, huh?!” The younger male exclaimed when he finally reached you two, smacking him in the face.

“I-I’m sorry! I th-thought-”

“Thought what? Get the fuck out!” The male kicked the older man a few times, watching him scurry away.

You stared at the new male in front of you with shock on your face, not knowing entirely what the hell just happened. When he looked at you, his face dropped, making you look at him confused.

“Uhm, do I know you?” You asked politely.

“No,” He shook his head. “But, I know you.” He answered. “You-You’re L/n, Y/n.”

Ah. A fan, great. “Don’t tell anyone, please,” You said quietly, holding your finger up to your lips. “I really just wanted a night out with my friend.”

“I won’t say anything,” He quickly shook his head. “I’m Rin,” He held his hand out to you.

“Nice to meet you, Rin,” You shook his hand.

“Do you maybe wanna dance?” He asked.

Looking at your drink, you took another big sip and set it down, nodding your head and standing up. “Sure.”

Rin grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to the main dancefloor. His hand let go once you both were in the middle of everyone, starting to dance to the electronic music blasting throughout the club. You generally weren’t one for electronic music but you didn’t mind it at the current moment. You felt hands wrap around your waist from behind and a body press against you, turning your head to see Rin towering over you while behind you. His gaze was stuck on you as he moved against you to the rhythm of the music.

He leaned down to your ear and quietly whispered. “Is that your friend over there?”

You followed his eyes to where Chigiri was talking to someone else and started walking towards the exit, and you nodded. “Yeah,” You said.

“Looks like he’s ditching you,” Rin spoke quietly. “Is he your ride?”

You nodded again.

“Hm,” Rin hummed, his hands gripping your sides tightly. “How about you let me take you home?”

You looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and shock. “What?”

“You have no way home now, right?” Rin asked. “You can’t get an Uber cause of your status, and I’m the only one who knows a famous idol is in my club right now. So, I say you have no other choice.”

You stopped dancing by now, his hands keeping you in place as you thought. He was right in all sorts of ways. You couldn’t afford to let anyone else know that you were here, and who knows what would happen if someone took a picture of you out clubbing just after the issue with Ryusei? You were stuck. “Okay,” You nodded.

“Come on,” Rin said as soon as you spoke, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the club through the back entrance where his car was.

You followed him out to the back, mentally praying that you wouldn’t die on this ride back to your house as he opened the passenger side door for you. You hesitated for a split second before getting in the car, letting Rin close it behind you. He got in a few seconds after and started the car.

“So, what way to your house?”

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[iron-embers]

The Finale

Had quite a lot of information pass to me in the span of 24 hours, and so it took a while to determine what to say so that we can move on with both a clear conscience and a concise understanding. First, I wanted to thank everyone who has reached out in regards to Bbd, and all the help you have given me in pursuing a fair end to this madness. I couldn’t do this without you all, and for those that have been hurt by the actions of this troll and being caught in the middle, you have my sincerest apologies. No one should have to go through that, Bbd did not deserve any of it and neither did those who have been made victims thanks to the actions of one miserable troll. For those that have suffered for the fighting that has been caused since then, know that your honesty and being civil in the name of seeking the truth have been a great aid, and has restored my faith in the fandom. With that being said, let me make it publicly clear

Hawnkoii is not the troll, and the evidence I was sent while true was taken out of context. When I made the first post addressing everything possible, I had to do it in a way that would not be swayed by opinions, but based on the evidence I gathered. I tagged hawnkoii initially as before any of this, we have actually never spoken to one another. And it wasn’t for any particular reason, it was a mutual understanding as there were no problems that ever arose between us so no point, even after the controversies of drama that happened on a server I was not a part of, I did not block, unfollow or spread anything about hawnkoii to anyone because why cause more unecessary drama. And while the evidence I gathered was quite appalling, the result it brought has been a mix of shock, pain and most importantly, a desire to understand what is really going on shared by many others and most importantly hawnkoii. My post brought on a conversation that was desperately needed, and after me and Hawnkoii talked for a long while both comparing evidence and talking it out like adults, we have come to the shared understanding that we should have spoken sooner. Instead we let the words of others doubt one another’s integrity without ever actually seeking out another side to whatever was being told. And with that we are on the same page and are aware of the truth now. I reached out to the mutuals who have been affected by this privately as I know the troll is still around, but to those I have not spoken to let this post make it clear that hawnkoii is not the troll. They, like me and so many others are another victim of the manipulation the one truly responsible has wrought. I do not regret posting what I did earlier as it helped people get on the same page, like it or not as much as many don’t want to be involved (as understandable as that is) it is clear that it became everyone’s problem when the troll started infringing on others right to privacy. I do however feel a heavy burden knowing that it has brought pain to those that were truly innocent in all this. We all want this to be over, I completely understand and it is for that reason that I want to say what I’m sure all of us have been wanting.

The blame game is done. No more playing by this trolls rules. In the past many of us may have said some things to one another, things that we later realize were wrong and have come to regret, and yet felt they would be shunned if they ever tried to come clean about it. No more. Let this be the moment that no matter what has been said in anger, speculation, and fear….let this be the moment where we let it go. Every individual has agency over what they do, and it is no one’s place to be telling anyone how to follow through with someone else’s choices unless they ask for it. I’ve heard all the sides I could and you know what…what’s done is done. No one should think they deserve forgiveness for what was said, but I would like to think that all of us want in some way to atone. Let this be that moment, we all have our differences, our boundaries and our own opinions, and over time when left unchecked things can get out of hand when any disagreements are not properly communicated. We let petty feelings and pride get in the way of what is truly important, it is wrong to let it continue but it is also HUMAN. And it’s okay to make mistakes. What isn’t okay is to start making what is supposed to be a fun and open place something to dread and fear. By spreading rumors, whispering behind each others back, and instead of letting civility dictate conversations it has become damn near zealotry. This is a place for people to create and share common interests with those they interact with, and whatever ill feelings or disagreements anyone has with one another should be made privately and dealt with in a professional manner. No dragging anyone into private matters, that is a recipe for disaster and if it cannot be solved privately then what will dragging more into it do?

Secondly, this got as far as it did because some have unintentionally forgotten the importance of privacy. It happens, we make mistakes, however as much as I wish otherwise the internet is not the safest place on earth. There are good people here, but there are also bad ones too, and sharing too much info with the wrong person can lead to dangerous waters. So from this point on, if you know someone’s private information because they imparted that to you with the trust you won’t share it, for the love of the creator do not share it without their express permission. And if someone you kind of know happens to ask for it or to verify that other persons info in anyway, please check with the person they are asking about if that is okay. Or if anything, why is that person asking for their personals, if they don’t know the person they are asking about, then they have no business knowing that private info and no one has any business sharing it without permission. End of story on that. This is what made it worse in the first place, so with that said let this be a lesson on why private info should be respected. No more of that. I’ve seen everything that has been going on, I appreciate those that reached out to give their side, the honesty and the want to move forward is what should bring us together, not divide us.

With that understood, and no more of things being unclear and who said what cuz it is time to move on, now to get on to what is also important. It is confirmed that the one responsible for the server drama plus Tumblr drama is

Overwork/ @hearts4muzan / hearts4muzan

And those connected to that account are also the ones responsible for the near year of harassment to all the creators here. As stated before, many things were said on that server by different people, and I have come to the conclusion that overwork who was the one in charge of that server had a malicious reason for inviting all those hantengu creators in the first place. To put it simply, time and time again the troll has reached out stating their obsession with hantengu, to such an unhealthy degree that they came at many creators not just on tumblr, but they did this on twitter first. I don’t have twitter, but have gotten the scoop on what happened on there, and to keep it simple, they love making lil disagreements spiral out of control by playing the they said, who says game, preying on people’s lack of time spent on the internet to manipulate and weave doubt among creators. It starts with one controversial thing, some that can be taken out of context and they spin it, baiting the person they are targeting to say more so they have more info to spin. It is sick, and because they couldn’t get enough of it on twitter, they found their way to tumblr.

Ever since I posted the big timeline post yesterday, these messages came from two of the people I’ve been in contact with, and I’m sure some of you who have interacted with overwork in the past have also received this. As you can see, the troll did see my post as I did link hearts4muzan , calling them out on their bs and so as a final act of desperation they send this to sow more trouble. Not only that, they retagged me and two others earlier today on a post meant to doxx spife, showing a one sided recollection of what happened on the server. As stated, they like to use this guilt trip method to keep people quiet as since they were in charge of the server they saw everything going on, weaponizing and using what others said to spread more chaos, and that action itself shows they are a coward. They didn’t even to bother to make a well written response for different people, they just copy and paste to see what reaction they get. Hell even claiming to be multiple people to divert attention, which may be true, but the again their arrogance led them to believe no one would be willing to put aside their differences to see the bigger picture. Every text of them supposedly informing you of supposed gossip, everytime they shut you down without hearing your side and threatening to reveal the out of context truth, all of it was their game.

Many disputes have happened in or out of that server they were in charge of because they were overseeing all the info being passed around between the creators who joined the server with completely innocent intentions. And whatever info they gather they spin stories out of it, selectively feeding it to certain people so that it creates doubt and chaos. They have done it before, they have experience doing this as they have also proven to fabricate fake screenshots of the person being targeted, with mothzii, spife, and now they did this to BBd. And they tried so damn hard to get BBd to give them something, to bait them into a fight with constant messages, anon asks, and even resorting to stealing their art to goad them on, and when BBd did the professional thing and reported it, with nothing else they started sneaking about on their server and find those that knew bbd in order to get that info. They found their private discord user and even found the personal insta to look for any dirt. Since they couldn’t find any, they resorted to threatening bbd via anon messages that they will locate them. One, that is absurd that the whole reason someone would go to that length is for the sake of creating drama for a fictional fandom, especially to someone who strove for no drama in the first place like bbd. When they threatened that bbd made sure to keep their account private and wanted to what until the troll lost interest, at the very least the location the troll kept claiming was their location was completely off and might as well not correct them. But then, that is when I was sent screenshots of someone claiming BBds discord had a conversation with someone on discord that claimed it was bbd talking bad about one of the creators. The first suspicion is that the other person that BBd was apparently talking to on this supposed chat, had their names blurred except for bbd’s. I found it suspicious and did my research, that was not BBd at all. It was in fact someone copy and pasting bbd’s discord handle, one they got from screenshots they collected showing their handle and putting it over the conversation playing as if it was real. Sick, I know. And that was the final straw, BBd had enough of the lies, enough of the drama in the fandom that she had tried to avoid getting involved in. That’s why when hearts4muzan asked us in asks to join their server, we did not for the sake of not wanting to get caught in the middle of anything. To this day I’m so glad we did not because now we know that was bait, so that we would become their victims. Instead they used other people to get to bbd, and that is what urges me to write all this down to have the story straight.

It doesn’t matter anymore who talked shit about someone else, this became a serious matter when privacy was infringed on and affected innocent people. If the troll who did this wants the attention, to be taken seriously then here is the moment we all come together and keep this troll from ruining tumblr. If they cannot respect privacy, I won’t either. Karma is a beautiful thing and now that we are all on the same page we can finally do what needs to be done and end it.

First time hearing from the troll and me answering them/ them playing as if they are mothziis friend to divert attention

Them stealing my art, same time they stole BBD art after we reported the first pic

Then after we got them banned from stealing more art on rule 34, on July 8th Bbd gets an spam message with a link to a twitter account, showing that they stole another one of her pieces, the tags and text were in Romanian but it basically was saying expletives towards her art of Chizue and Sekido, saying and I wish I could be making this up…Sekido was their hubby and Chizue doesnt deserve him….ya know for a fictional character. She had it reported and taken down, but the account is still on twitter with this….lovely image of the art they parodied from a commission mothzii got from another artist. By the way, that link in their bio was linked straight to the real mothzii, but since mothzii deleted her account due to the twitter drama, it now leads no where, and this troll is using a bastardized version of their user since to play as if they are the same user. They are not. And they have stolen other art of peoples OCs to cuss them out in either Korean or Romanian for daring to make art with their hubby. I cringe as I’m writing this so bear with me. And needless to say, their twitter is full of reblog sand posts that would make even rule 34 blush. All in Romanian. Considering the lack of proper grammar in most of the troll asks everyone was getting at certain points, it does prove they are not an English speaker.

If any of you noticed inconsistencies with how the troll came to you and harrassed through asks, such as one time the text and grammar was awful, and the next they have even better grammar, wonder no more cuz it’s actually two people. One who is in charge of this mothliina account on twitter, and then this user suramii11 that they repost art of is the other. If any of you received the disgusting art or link to said art of dreams child character, this style of tracing over bases and how awful it is, this was the one that did that art.

Unfortunately they did art of hawnkoiis character without consent, and they did that previously with chizue and dreams characters, they were quite disgusting and posted it on rule 34 before they were taken down.

About a week later more asks are sent.

The return of the mothzii rumor

First attempt at resuming the mothzii harrassment

Second attempt, this time from the spam account since I blocked anons

After the twitters art theft, guess what they decided to do once twitter once again failed? Back to tumblr and of course with the same explicit pic of the art they edited before. If anyone was curious why they use this picture, it is actually the same picture that me and BBd found on rule34 after dream was getting harrassed and getting pedo art from the same user. The pic that said chizues name and BBd had taken down, after that was when the troll started coming over to tumblr to harass them. So desperate for attention they even made a fake pic of the real mothzii following them, when that is not the case. All in the name of causing drama

Whether it be a whole group of them are not, this is vile, and what they truly want is to be taken seriously. To be feared and abuse the info they gather to blackmail/doxx creators they are jealous of. Any bit of info they get feeds them and they start to repeatedly harass you with it to wear you down. They did that to mothzii, they did it to Spife (at this point I don’t care if people are still taking overworks word for it, please refer to Spife’s post for the other side of the story), and they tried with so many others like Lumitylovepill and Dreamcorechild. Just like when they tried to play the person of color card and call the creators they were jealous of white supremecists, and when I corrected them as them pulling the race card and using it to be a degenerate was not only insulting, that I was not white, my ask box was filled with all sorts of racist insults, all different as they hoped I would responded back with what race I was so that they could get more info. Since I did not and only said Hispanic, they kept saying Mexican. I’m using this as an example, as that is just one of the many ways they use to bait people into giving personal info. When I didn’t, the asks stopped for a time. When people show that their attempts don’t work, they keep trying and trying, and the best thing to do is show them that it doesn’t affect you.

Point is, I wanted to show people how they do it, so that this doesn’t happen again. Many have said it best, ignore them, they want private info cuz they want to scare other people with it. They are a joke. And know that I made this post I hope people can see that turning against one another will not help. That is what the real culprits want. They claimed time and time again they were against pedo art and pro shipping, yet here they are reposting the same stuff on the twitter. They claimed we followed them, which was a ploy to cause another witch hunt, they claimed they were fair and just on discord, yet here they are calling Sekido their hubby and dosing others for liking the character. They claimed to have friends….if they were friends with anyone it was just them lying to themselves. If they shows what they were truly like to the people they claimed were their friends, they too would be shunned, just like what they messaged me when I confronted them.

Please refer to the first post if there is any confusion, and let us all put this to an end

First post

They are a coward. And even if these accounts get taken down they are so delusional they will make more,and we will be ready. This post with everything laid out, it is my hope that people will be properly informed and take the necessary steps to keep this fandom as fun as it should be. Share this, reblog, ask questions, no matter what, the truth will always prevail. People are from all different walks of life, but we all love demon slayer, let that love for it shine over the pride, the drama and unnecessary bs that should not define how creators treat one another. Respect others boundaries and just be kind to one another.

[rottenpumpkin13]

I just wanted to say (bc I saw the problem with ppl being attacked through asks) I genuinely love your posts. They cheer me up. At first I saw your acc bc my friend thought huh strange someone has the same name, age, interest, and pronouns as me and legit asked if it was me. Since being introduced (for context I work a corporate 9-5 job) every time I see notifications of you posting I’m running to see. You’re honestly one of my favorite accounts. I hope you’re doing okay. Taking the necessary rest/recovery.💗

I randomly clicked on a blog that liked one of my posts one day and saw "Elle, 22, she/they" in the bio 😚 I wonder if it was you, because if not we need to make an "Elle, 22, she/they" club immediately because there might be more of us lol

I've gotten my fair share of rude anons this year, but nothing recently. I try not to reply to them both for my sake and that of the people who come onto my blog because they want a mini escape from whatever it is that they're going through, so maybe that's why it's cooled down a bit. People tell me this blog cheers them up, so I take it seriously and try to make it a fun place, and that's what it was for me up until a while ago.

Lately it seems that everyone is having to deal with what looks like one very pathetic person who is so desperate for attention that they feel the need to try and disrupt everyone's peace. It's sad—sad for the person who has such a disgusting personality that they feel the need to do this, and mostly sad for people I care about getting hit with this wave of senseless hate.

And it shouldn't be like this. People should have the right to exist in their safe space without armor and a sword to fight off trolls and people who make fandom uninhabitable. I should have the right to post my stuff without being told to "stop polluting the tags." Person X should have the right to post without fearing they're saying something wrong. Person Y should be able to share what makes them happy without feeling unsafe in their own community. Person Z should be able to enjoy fandom without dealing with drama spurred by hateful people. And yet here we are. The block button is there. If you don't like someone, you don't have to interact with them. Plain and simple.

I started feeling burnt out a while ago, but it has nothing to do with anon hate or anything of the sort. I guess it's a culmination of my irl problems spiralling out of control this year coupled with stuff I've experienced on here ever since I started this blog. I think the only thing keeping me here is people still sending asks (because talking to you guys is so much fun), and the really great friendships I made through this fandom.

Thanks for checking in 💚

[piratefalls]

first list here.

round two i guess. i finally read 30 pages of a real physical book last night. progress? possibly. it felt right that while working on this "nothing's gonna stop us now" started playing. thinking about making this a wednesday thing. still trying to do a mix of new and old fics, even though it's all new to me. and much like alex claremont-diaz, this has been a mouthful. if you want me to tag you in any lists going forward, let me know!

Will You Brie Mine? by chamel

Today, as Henry tells him all about the Manchego, Alex tries his best to listen and not fixate on the mole next to the corner of Henry’s mouth or the way his shoulders strain the seams of his white uniform shirt. It’s not a particularly easy task for him, in all honesty. “Would you care for a sample?” Henry asks, as if Alex has ever said no to him. “I’d love one,” Alex tells him instead of saying I’d like to sample you. (Or, Henry sells cheese and Alex is somehow his best customer. It's not really about the cheese.)

take me out and take me home by coffeecatsme

“Shh.” Alex presses a finger over Henry’s lips. Their corners twitch, as if Henry’s desperately fighting a smile. “This is our house, baby. We gotta make it our own." Soon after Ellen's election, Henry and Alex move into a brownstone in New York. This is a story of how they make it home.

i still love you more than i should say by tkstrand

It’s been three months since Alex started working for Bankston & Shrivastava Associates, and he’s starting to think that his tiny crush on his coworker may not actually be that small. NYU School of Law may have helped him pass the bar, but it certainly didn’t prepare him for everything that is Henry fucking Fox. What makes it worse, though, is that Alex can’t do a fucking thing about it. No matter how much banter they swap, how many times he makes Henry blush in a day, it doesn’t matter. Alex can’t do anything, because Henry already has a boyfriend. Or, where a slight miscommunication leads Alex to believe that David is Henry's boyfriend.

and that's the way i loved you by HypnosTheory

Alex sighs, tilting his head back and sinking low in his chair. “What if I scare him off? He’s got a pretty big thing about commitment-” “He eats the same thing for breakfast and he wears a ring with his own initials every day,” Nora says, lifting her head up just enough to glare at Alex. “He doesn’t have commitment issues, he’s just a slut. Tell him you want him to be your slut. For the love of all that is holy.” -- Alex accidentally fell hopelessly in love with his roommate and fuck buddy Henry. He tries to plan the perfect confession, but when have any of Alex’s plots worked perfectly?

Baby, You're Gonna Lose Your Own Game by affectionatelyrs

Alex thinks he understands why people get stupid, impulsive tattoos like their ex’s name now if the sudden urge to etch the word darling onto his hip in permanent ink is anything to go by. So, yeah, Alex supposes. Henry may still be maddening, but his mouth? His voice? Maybe it was always hot, actually, and the irritation he previously felt was just thinly veiled complete and utter attraction. That would check out. Hate has always been a multifaceted word, after all. - Or, Alex decides that he wants to fuck the British out of Henry while watching him speak at a gala

flatline by rizcriz

Alex gets the call at 7:57am. It’s from an unknown number, so he answers it with an accent on his tongue and laughter in his throat, ready to troll the scammer for all they’re worth. But the voice on the other side of the line is serious, solemn, when she asks, “Is this, I apologize, all I’ve been given are initials, AGCD?” He frowns, turning away from the coffee shop he’d been about to enter. “Who’s asking?” There’s a moment of hesitation on the other end. “There’s been an incident. On the individual's phone, there’s a sticker. It says, if found, return to AGCD, alongside this phone number. Does it sound familiar?” Alex freezes in the middle of the sidewalk. “What kind of incident?” -- Or, Henry's been in an accident.

craigslist cutie (please don't go) by matherine

Here’s the thing. Alex is simultaneously very, very smart and very, very stupid. Nora calls it the Claremont-Diaz Paradox, and every time she does, June sticks out her tongue like she’s about twelve years old, and then Nora makes a comment about what she would rather June be doing with her tongue, and – okay. Off track. Not relevant to Alex’s current predicament, which is perhaps the most damning example of the Claremont-Diaz Paradox. Alex got himself into NYU Law with flying colors and LSAT scores in the 99th percentile, worked his ass off for three years, and graduated with honors and a crippling caffeine addiction. And then, because he is an idiot, he decided to take his JD, his potential, and his mountain of student loans to his brand-new job as a public defender. Unfortunately, being a public defender pays about as much as working at a Hot Topic. Which means that Alex really needs a roommate. Like, pronto. STAT. ASAP. He’s not sure who’s desperate enough to move into the other room in his beautiful, probably-not-bedbug-infested 700 square feet of Hell’s Kitchen, but he really fucking needs to find somebody. Craigslist is a last resort, but it does bring him Henry.

Professional Rivalry by clottedcreamfudge

"Decided to take the afternoon off to bump into pedestrians?" Alex asks as he gets to his feet, brushing off his chinos and pushing his glasses back onto his face where they've started to slide down his nose. "Shouldn't you be off somewhere writing about men in passionate embraces?" Henry regards him coolly over the armful of papers he's managed to retain complete control of, somehow, and Alex notices vaguely that he's got a smudge of ink just below his jaw. "Shouldn't you be taking a 1L lecture in," Henry pauses, looking at his watch, "less than five minutes?" "Fuck," Alex says again. "Fucking shit." Then he turns around and leaves Henry to bump into more people, probably, since that seems to be his only fucking agenda for the day. *** Professor Alex Claremont-Diaz despises Professor Henry Fox, so naturally they get roomed together at a conference. Alex is fine.

take a step, step again by iphigenias

This is not the first time. The first time, Alex left for class early, left Henry in their bed in Brooklyn with a kiss pressed to the exposed skin behind his ear. He didn’t hear from Henry all day. When he got home that night, Henry wasn’t in the kitchen, or on the sofa watching Bake Off, and he didn’t answer when Alex called. He was still lying in bed, and flinched, when Alex reached out to touch him.

mess me up (no one does it better) by extasiswings

Sometimes, Alex gets stuck in his own head. And for twenty-two years he doesn’t think there’s anything to be done other than to just go with it, ride out the frenetic energy until he’s fixed whatever needs fixing, or until the situation is over, whichever comes first. If he can just control everything, it’s fine. He likes being in control, he’s good at it, he’s fine. It’s just how things have always been. Until Henry.

five times henry's competency turned alex on and one time it turned him into a pile of romantic goo by helenblqckthorn

Alex has a fucking thing for competency. A competency kink, if he wants to be crude. And it just so happens that his boyfriend is one of the most competent men in England. Well, Alex, he thinks. You sure know how to pick ‘em.

Keep Most of Your Heart in London by cresswells

Alex thinks he’s prepared – as prepared as he’ll ever be. He’s been waiting for months to do this. He even did his research on the proper etiquette for a British royal engagement – and then promptly ignored it all. AKA: The one with the engagement of the century.

Red, White & Navy Blue by jedusaur

"Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker."

how we rolled up the carpet (so we could dance) by adhoori

Henry shrugs off his suit jacket and tie, looking his usual annoyingly handsome self while Alex stifles a yawn in spite of the amount of caffeine in his system. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Henry says, looking all kinds of fond. Alex feels a little ridiculous in his tousled hair, glasses and the ratty NYU sweatshirt, but finds an answering warmth spreading through him anyway as he lets himself be kissed hello. “Hi, sweetheart,” he says, leaning back into the chair while Henry leans against the desk.

you and me, forevermore by bellamysgriffinprincess

"He pushes up on his toes to kiss Henry, who returns the kiss immediately, greedily, tongue brushing against his in a way that makes Alex's brain short circuit just as much as it did a year ago. A year ago. It still does something to him, stirs something deep inside him that makes his entire body feel like pure mush. It's a memory burned so bright in his mind - cold air, a buzz in his veins, a tree in a quiet garden, fingers gripping his face, soft lips against his. The night his world turned on its axis and shifted toward Henry, altering his path and forever tilting him closer." Or, Alex and Henry on New Year's Eve, one year after their first, and Alex wants it to be special.

All Booked Up by allmylovesatonce

A book tearing up the Bestseller’s List is quickly shoved into Alex’s hands via June and Nora. Despite his resistance, he’s taken in by the book and its whirlwind romance. When Nora insists they all go to a reading with the mysterious author, Alex is drawn in by H. G. Fox, hanging on his every word. When they meet after the signing, it sets him on a path he’d thought was impossible.

Are You Screwing With Me? by railmedaddy

Alex is only downloading Grindr because he’s curious. It doesn’t fucking mean anything, right? And when he answers a call for help from a very hot neighbour – who has no business having a shoulder-to-waist ratio like that – he’s just being friendly. It definitely doesn’t mean that he’s going to discover things about himself that he’d assumed were just passing curiosity. Or, the Grindr meet-cute AU

Yo Te Guiero A Ti by lucy_in_the_sky

��So,” Henry starts again, setting the now empty beer bottle down with a decided thud. “You want to bottom, but are having trouble fingering yourself and making it feel good?” He asks, voice deeper than usual. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Alex shrugs, still feeling half turned on and half mortified. “And you want my help with fingering yourself?” Henry asks, slightly incredulously. And fucking hell, that’s exactly what he wants, even though he technically only asked for Henry’s advice, not his help actually fingering him. “Would you help me?” Alex breathes out, the question barely a whisper.

We were staying in Paris by hollybibble

Henry wakes up with Alex for the first time in Paris. He's desperately in love but still managing to convince himself he is in control...until Alex calls him 'baby.' Cameo appearance by Henry's leather polo gloves.

Piping and Draping on a Saturday Night by cmere

Dear Alex, Please consider this email confirmation that I am available to help supervise students at the End of Semester Dance on Saturday, December 19th. Do let me know if there is anything I should prepare in advance. I look forward to working with you. Sincerely,Professor Henry Fox, Ph.DHistory Alex doesn't really understand why boring and pretentious Professor Henry Fox volunteers to help out at his students' events every semester, but he needs all the help he can get, so he's just gonna have to put up with him.

don't be surprised, baby (it's just me) by pissedofsandwich

Henry reflects on his relationship with touch over the years.

love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves by kapplebougher

Henry has read it all: fairy-tales of princes and their courters, unsung histories of kings and their secret lovers, and he has read all their happy endings. But he is not a prince in a fairy-tale, and he has always thought his own secret love story was likelier to end in tragedy. Perhaps it’s time that changed. (Or, Henry’s POV the morning after The Great Claremont-Diaz Ambush at Kensington Palace)

I'd Cross Oceans by 14hpgirl19

Dating a prince is hard. Dating a prince when you're the son of the President is even harder. Alex is done with barely seeing Henry. When Henry gets sick while in London, Alex decides to take matters into his own hands. (And if he ends up with a fiance at the end of it, even better.)

watch before it ends by indomitablelove

He should be working on this essay so he can spend more time with Henry this weekend. He really, really should be working on this essay. But. But. Henry is going live on Instagram. --- that's it, that's the fic.

you turned a moment (into forever) by viciouslyqueer

Sharing an apartment with Alex had seemed like a good idea at first. They’re best friends, prices in Brooklyn are absurd, and they had both been in urgent need of residence – it only made sense. Except for the small, tiny, teeny, barely there fact that Henry has been in love with Alex from the first moment he laid eyes on him. And the fact that Alex doesn’t know, and can never find out.

[saltyfishdream]

Kazuha x Reader (Hogwarts AU)

Tags: reverse hurt/comfort, triggered by weather, coping with grief, gn!reader, implied past Kazuha/Friend

Words: 3.8k

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was empty for only you and Professor Minci. You gulped nervously as she started to talk about your consistent “trolling” grade, which you still had to stifle a few laughs from hearing. You grew up in a Muggle family, and of course, the Internet.

She continued with how she tried to put you with other “high-achieving students” (Diluc and Kaeya) to get your grade up or making you sit on your own (after she found that you three together were the perfect stew for chatter) but they “probably weren't the best ways for you”.

“So that's why I'd like to introduce you to your peer tutor,” She finished. Peer tutor? You don't dare raise a brow at the idea even though you wanted to. You were sure that Diluc and Kaeya’s grades dropped that term because of all the chatting in class. Would you distract that peer tutor so much you'd forget about studying in the first place?

A knock on the door stopped your train of thoughts.

“Come in.”

You were first met with red eyes. Not as dark and piercing as the crimson in Diluc's, but a shade closer to the warm flame in the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room despite the fact that he was a Hufflepuff. His hair was white for only a few red strands, which was brushed to his right.

“Kadehara,” Professor Minci continued, “Will be your student tutor this term…”

She went on with a lot of details (like how good a student Kadehara was? Or he's a sixth year who didn’t drop the subject?) that you mostly missed, before noticing that it was almost time for dinner and ushered you two out of the room.

Kadehara said, “[name], are you fine with calling me Kazuha? I'm not really used to being called by my last name–”

You only blurted out the thing that was hanging on your mind from the moment you saw him. “You should put less stress on yourself, or even that red part of your hair will turn white at this rate if you insist on tutoring me.”

Kazuha's eyes widened for a second, probably from confusion.

“A-Ah no, I just bleached and dyed my hair! Kind of, actually. I wanted to dye it all red but the dyeing spell didn't work as well as I'd imagined,” he let out a few dry laughs, even though he didn’t look anything close to feeling awkward or already hating you.

You could feel the warmth creep up your face. Those rumors about the guy who found his hair whitened overnight was total bullcrap! Why would’ve you believed it? Are you fricking stupid? And had to make that tutor think you’re stupid in non-DA stuff? You ask yourself, almost embarrassing yourself in front of Kazuha again by nearly hitting yourself in the head with an imaginary rolled-up newspaper.

And so you both got back to your own tables without saying a word.

.ೃ࿐

“Isn't it time for you to go to that student tutor?” Kaeya asked. You groaned, looking up from the magical equivalent of a Rubik's cube in your hands, the only difference between both is that it keeps tricking you into the wrong steps by changing its colors and giving you riddles then roasts you for not solving the puzzle. It was a Saturday morning and the last thing that you had the mood to do was tutoring.

You pretend to have forgotten about the whole thing. “Tutor? What tutor?”

“The sixth-year who bleached his hair with a spell,” Diluc said, hands subconsciously turning his own cube.

“Ugh, thanks for the reminder.”

That conversation a few days ago had left a much sour taste in your mouth than you'd imagined that you were dreading seeing Kazuha again. Now every time you think of anything related to hair or peer tutoring (which Diluc and Kaeya are very unhelpfully mentioning in every conversation) you would cringe for the next hour about it– even Scara telling everyone that your face keeps turning into a tomato isn’t as embarrassing as that!

Don't know what to do next? Too bad. The words showed on your cube while it made obnoxious booing sounds. Note to self: get self a set of wizarding chess that is not from Dori.

You put the cube down for it to reshuffle in a flurry of colors and launch itself into Kaeya’s hands.

And for once the cube was right. You didn't really know what to do next, go to the library and face Kazuha or think of some random excuse that can convince Professor Minci to let you off the hook.

You left the common room. You knew that Kaeya and Diluc would literally drag you to the library if you stayed for a while longer, and they weren't sick of making hair-dyeing references yet while you were more than sick of the conversation with Kazuha. 

Speak of the devil, he was standing next to the Fat Lady waiting for you.

“Oh, you're finally here.” He said with a smile as if the conversation didn't happen at all. “I thought you… forgot… or something…” Kazuha’s voice trailed off further as he went.

It was so awkward that you hoped that the floor would open up like the stairs did and swallow you whole (which it sadly didn't yet).

It took something like a million years and 20 tokens for you to generate a response, “It- I… lost my book. And notes, so, uh…” 

You haven't even gotten to the part of calling off the tutoring session because of that when Kazuha replied, “That's fine, there are copies of textbooks in the library… it's really a blessing, isn't it?”

You could do nothing but nod and pray for whoever Merlin is to get you out of this cringefest.

.ೃ࿐

You both go to the library in total silence. There weren’t many students in the halls early on a Saturday morning. But you just can’t relax from the lingering threat of awkwardness. You and Kazuha each grabbed a seat at the left third row as a copy of the DA textbook automatically flew to your desk and opened itself on the first page.

“Ah, right. Would it be a bit inconvenient if you don’t have your own notes with you?” He asked while handing you a piece of paper. Yep, it’s the paper you’ve never seen ever since you’ve been to Hogwarts. You put it on your side of the table, your mind as blank as how it looked. “I never had any notes for DA,” you confess. Kazuha exhales deeply. “From now on,” He stated, “You have to start writing your notes.”

You groan. 

“This subject is no fun…” Mumbling under your breath, you take your spare pencil out from your robe pocket, “I have no idea why Diluc and Kaeya could pass without even studying…” They were telling you to “blame everything on the pre-war Ministry” while you were still struggling with who did what. You were that day years old when you knew that Tom Riddle had never been the Minister of Magic.

Kazuha shrugged. “Most Muggle-borns like me have to study it the hard way. I mean– you’ve never known about the society and history and whatever shit we have here so you need, like, plenty of time to get used to it.” He puts his hair down and ties it back up, not giving a care about how he was swearing out loud. In the library.

You begrudgingly force your eyes back to the parchment and textbook. “How much do you mean by ‘plenty of time’? It’s been a term and I’m still trolling every single DA-related assignment.” Holding the urge to gnaw on the end of your pencil back, you finally write down the words “DA notes” on the paper. 

“Can you tell me what the first chapter is about first?” He asks, gesturing to you to close the textbook. You stare at him with the same blank expression as if his head were the DA textbook. The air solidified around you. How on Earth would you know? You’ve never really touched the textbook, and he’s talking about the first chapter? Finally, you confidently tell him your answer which is definitely right. “It’s about how to defend yourself from the Dark Arts!”

Kazuha laughed– not dryly, but fortunately heartily. “Can’t say you’re totally wrong,” He said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “But I think it’s a sign for us to go through this chapter together.”

You start reading the chapter with him, the memories about the incident last week slowly fading to make way for the words in your textbook. The whatever “grim consequences of the Wizarding Wars” didn’t seem as hard as they seem to be, and even better– you finally remember the name Tom Riddle gave himself. (Hint: it’s not Dildo-lover Rat Mom or anything dildo-related) Kazuha seemed to be a way better teacher than Professor Minci– his voice was calming, but didn’t sound boring when he spoke and scribbled down concepts on his parchment.

“You see? It’s not as hard as you’ve imagined!”

Towards the end of the session (did time pass that quick?) you were at the end of the first chapter. There was still half an hour before lunch starts and you were too lazy to go back to the Common Room yet, so you decided to chat for a while while waiting.

“First year DA used to be more fun,” Kazuha sighed, “They had At least that’s what I heard from my seniors.” He puts his own quill and parchment away.

You say, “Define ‘fun’. If you’re talking about some lame Auror droning on about how he peaked in his teenage years and gave his wand to a dead man in the end, don’t count me in.” You weren’t even sure if Harry Potter did ever come back to Hogwarts to do some speech or whatever for the first years–but it’s most likely true if Kaeya told you. Very big thanks to the trust issues everyone you knew gave you after last week. 

Books in the distance flew back onto their shelves, dust falling down onto your table.

“I mean- yeah, Auror Potter did come back to introduce DA for first years, but, that was like, a couple of years ago. And if I were you, I wouldn't say that he's lame.” Kazuha’s round, autumn-like eyes fell, staring at the dust.

The air was lead. And you both were suffocating in it.

A gust of wind blew the invisible lead, along with the dust away. “Anyways, they used to have lessons on the actual stuff besides all those theories. Combatting Boggarts? Check. Resisting Unforgivables? Check. Professors who make up ninety-nine percent of the Dark Arts themselves? Check.”

He kept on talking about how they postponed all that cool stuff to the third year. You would’ve looked forward to fighting off evil creatures but you were more stuck in Kazuha’s reaction to what you said. You had to blurt and now you don’t think he’s feeling totally good with that. Great.

You headed your own ways without a word.

.ೃ࿐

It has been two months since Kazuha started tutoring you, always sitting at the left third row in tutoring sessions. Your DA grades were getting better– definitely not the best, but having four assignments in a row without a “Troll” was progress. You started to control your big, fat mouth in front of him as well. You didn’t want to risk embarrassing yourself or having him look at the dust again.

Kazuha was a great guy as well– a cool sixth-year that you could rely on. When you met him out of tutoring, he would wave, or stop for a chat with you, slightly blushing when his friends hooted or whistled behind. His kitten– which perched on his shoulder like a Pikachu– even stretched itself to you when you met Kazuha, begging for a boop on the nose. He sometimes talked about his misadventures as a first year which always made you laugh, but you could sense the hint of something else in it, whether in his gaze or tone.

You were walking alone on the path next to the Great Lake on a sunny afternoon. Diluc and Kaeya were busy talking to Dehya about joining the Quidditch team next year and they told you not to wait for them.

The blonde with the red strand in his hair, sitting next to the lake while putting a maple leaf on the calm water surface. With a gentle swish of his wand the leaf sailed away, leaving two lines on the lake. “Didn’t you watch the Quidditch match?” You ask.

He said, “No, I didn’t.” Before putting another maple leaf onto the water. 

“Come on! You totally missed out on how Gryffindor whooped the butts of all those Slytherins! It took, like, three whole hours before Heizou finally caught the Snitch!” You sat next to him, looking at the maple leaf floating on the water.

Kazuha fidgeted with his wand like how you would spin your pen in class. “I… used to love watching Quidditch, but…” He lost hold of its wand, luckily catching it before it fell into the water, “The person I usually watched playing left. So, yeah.”

“Left in terms of graduated?” You ask.

“You can say it like that.”

He stopped putting leaves into the lake.

You sit in silence with him for a while. Before you leave upon seeing Diluc and Kaeya in the distance.

.ೃ࿐

Another Saturday morning. It's raining so heavily that you thought that someone was pouring buckets of black water down from the roof. Breakfast was over already and you were running late for tutoring so you had to ignore the sensation in your gut.

You grab your textbook and notes and make a mad dash to the library, passing the practically waterfalls of rain along the corridors. You look at your usual seat. He wasn't there yet despite you being already– you look at the clock– ten minutes late.

Huh. That's weird. Maybe he decided to go to a new table today for the view? You look into the dark, barely-illuminated depths of the library. Nope. Not searching by yourself. 

You go up to the front table and ask the librarian Pela if she had seen Kazuha.

Pela shakes her head, before picking back up the doujinshi she was reading.

Feeling like sticking out like a sore thumb, you go back to your usual table. Maybe he just overslept like you did and he was on his way here.

Another ten minutes pass. No sign of Kazuha. You open your textbook and start studying Chapter Nine. But no matter how many times you read it, the words just rebound from your brain and back into the textbook.

You close it a bit too loudly in frustration. Where was he?

“Mmnh?” Kazuha appears in the corridor next to your table, black circles under his puffy eyes. He forces a smile and says, “Sorry for being late, I pulled an all-nighter last night and got to bed at five AM. I got myself some coffee, so… don’t worry too much about me.”

He sets his stuff down on the table and immediately starts explaining the chapter.

“… So Aurors had to undergo strict tests…” He kept speaking, eyes on the textbook. His voice was raspy– not Scara’s oh-im-so-dark-and-mysterious type, but rather the type you get when you catch a cold or have stayed up the whole night crying.

Maybe he caught a cold after pulling an all-nighter. Just maybe.

His words fuse with the pattering of the rain on the windows outside. You can’t comprehend anything he was saying while your mind is running a hundred miles per hour wondering what’s wrong with Kazuha even though you know that it’s technically not your business. You don’t even bother asking yourself to focus– your head was just too occupied with these thoughts.

He didn’t notice the fact you weren’t listening at all. “Nowadays, Aurors still have to- to… fight against… the remaining power of Tom Riddle’s followers…” He said, trailing off at the end of the sentence. You look at him. Then at the textbook, where a whole chart of different events with the corresponding years with the title “Major Breakthroughs in Defending Post-War Magical Britain from Death Eaters” occupied two whole pages.

Kazuha was covering his eyes with both his hands, his elbows resting on the table. You can hear his muffled sniffling.

Well, that was definitely more than a cold.

“Kazuha? Uh- you ok?” You felt stupid asking this question. He is visibly not OK, cold or not. The ball of panic erupted in your head. Is this supposed to be normal? Think, [name], you have to think… Why is he like this? What can I do?

Your pencil feels slippery, and if you keep the tip pressed on your notebook you’d be drawing a seismograph.

You had never seen him like this. Like, of course, you guys just met two months ago and you expect him to be vulnerable in front of you? But you always saw him as the “cool senior student”. 

A flash of lightning.

You ask, “What happened?” as if your head has been struck by a Stupefy. It came out as a whisper.

Kazuha rested his head on the table, not looking at you.

The roaring of thunder broke in the library, not helping with anything at all.

“It- it’s just the weather…” He turned his back against you, conjuring a piece of tissue paper.

You put your pencil down. “Yeah, awful weather, isn’t it?” You say without even thinking, your voice sounding dead.

Lightning struck again, momentarily painting the room in white.

Kazuha closes the textbook. “I’ve always hated rainstorms,” he says, his voice still breaking, “They… they took him away. In the middle of a rainstorm.”

Your train of thought gets cut short by the thunderclap. “I’m… sorry for that.”

“No, y-you don’t have to. It’s not your fault.” The feeble candlelight flickers, illuminating his face. Fresh tears were streaming down his reddened cheeks, his red eyes looking like the Great Lake under the sunset. His light hair was slightly disheveled, which he brushed towards one side. “It’s just that… I never thought that they would be that cruel.”

The pattering sound outside seemed louder. “Tomo… I should’ve… Why didn’t I…” Kazuha muttered under his breath.

“Mind if we, uh, just,” You struggle to find the right words to say, “Talk about it?”

Kazuha nods.

“Tomo… he was a nice friend. A Ravenclaw. He was a fourth-year student when I started studying here…” 

The candles flickered a few more times, teetering at the verge of totally going out before reilluminating itself.

“I got bullied for being a Muggleborn and having a strange accent, he was the only other Japanese guy here and he stood up for me so… we became friends…” He paused.

“I should’ve stopped him from being an Auror if I knew this would happen to him… He could’ve been a good Quidditch player or potionmaker or… I was just happy for him when he told me he passed all the tests last summer but just on his very first mission…”

His voice broke again. You scooted over to him. “He sent me a letter that morning about how he looked forward to it and before I could reply, that evening it rained until the next morning and what I saw on the news was that…”

You patted his back. The wind howled, as if it were weeping as well. Leaves flew by the window, which was barely holding on to the frame. You haven’t even experienced such a storm back where you lived.

“The Death Eaters killed him but didn’t take his wand. His partner told me he could’ve survived if they didn’t fire a second spell at him…”

“They really are… heartless. More than I'd imagined. It must’ve been awful knowing that,” you say.

Kazuha continued, “It was. The first spell landed on his keychain instead… Why were they so bent on… doing this? He fought until the last moment… The keychain… we bought a matching pair at a cheap souvenir store together at Hogsmeade… it cracked when the spell hit…”

“I kept it when they sent it to me. And… his kitten… I guess it helped me keep my mind off stuff for a while.”

The raindrops sounded lighter.

“… he loved cats, but his parents were allergic so he got it after graduation when he got to rent a house with his colleagues and updated me about his life and training along with a photo of his kitten every single day… And he was a good Quidditch player but quit in his sixth year. If he were a Quidditch player maybe he would’ve still been here but not…”

The sky seemed lighter as the heavy rain faded. Kazuha fell silent. “Was he happy? About being an Auror?” You asked.

He nodded. “It… it was his lifelong dream. I had thought of pulling that ‘stealing a Time-turner’ trick in those rumors… but I guess he wouldn't listen if I went back and asked him not to become an Auror. It would’ve been selfish of me to do that but there’s just that part of me that wanted to save him…”

You think aloud, “He wouldn't have regretted anything even in his last moments.”

“Huh?” Kazuha asked.

You’ve done it again. Why can’t you take control of what you say? You stare at him, trying not to let him know that your mind is rolling down the spiral staircase for the rest of the summer.

“You are right. It was always his dream to be an Auror. And he achieved it,” He said, looking back at you.

A few drops of rain clung to the window frame, occasionally dripping down.

“It was just… never your fault, ok? Fudge those Death Eaters, I bet they get haunted by Tomo’s ghost every night that they’ve gone insane in Alakazam,” You tell him, not minding that you’re (almost) swearing out loud in the library.

Kazuha coughed out a few laughs as he wiped off his tears. “It’s Azkaban! Why must you make a Pokemon reference here?”

You put up your most innocuous smile.

The bell rings for lunch.

“Anyways, uh,” Kazuha stutters while tidying up his stuff, “Thanks but... Sorry for… just… venting to you like that…” He blushes, red creeping up from his neck to his face.

You give him a playful slap in the back. “No biggie– as long as you’re feeling fine now.”

You walk out of the library. The thick layer of clouds have disappeared, leaving only a few droplets on the trees and the birds singing.

You part ways at the Great Hall as usual.

[roseonthewindow]

pomio (or whatever im honestly not careing about that) we need to have a Semi serious disscusion about Accountability.

When I first got here and created this character The original intention was a blackhole via lack of Roleplayers the key figure in Isabellas motovation. I had a full small story and everything. I just got stalled due to a family matter and did not have any real time to adress the astetics. lets face it Tumblr's defaults are not the most astetically pleasing thing.

It was one of your shippers that started shit as nausium and since than your punks have been hideing behind you while using mob style tatics to try and get their way...

Here is the bad news. I AM FRENCH itallian Blueblood...if you want to play mob boss... it comes highly unrecomended.

This is a warning to the bad actors in your spesfic corner. (Put under keep reading to spair the ones not causeng issues.) If your not being a little jerk about it most if this you are already aware of, the rest does not pretain to you.

If you are not causing a stink or drama bassed off the vain stupidity of one of your bad actors you have an invested instrest to just ignore me. I am fine with this, you do not have to interact or talk.

Intentionaly attacking me than flat out denying it when it can not be glarringly more obvious is stupid at best. To the bad actors keep in mind I don't accept your "Skunk butt rug" of an excusse. As for the rest I am not putting this in shipping tags as a courtsy to the shippers who are not causing issues.

Xbox gamepass is NOT Neowiz. (Wasn't there a settlement involving that thou I will have to look into it but I think microsoft got in trouble for putting games on gamepass whos developers opted out of that feature but I don't think Lies of P is in that group of affected games.)

Mods are not canon. (This should be obvious to be fair)

The next DLC will destroy most of your conxept of the protagonists name. (And I know the creator will never be sorry about it.)

This comes as no suprise to anyone fimillar with why Ginago started refering to Gepettos puppet as "brother" you know that thing you get when you see the true ending in lies of P.

There is no offical Ship, this is by design, and if there was it would be a straight ship, because, again, by design.

Your treating what the creator designed as an art piece an your personal playgound. He can and will troll you all. As someone that kmows of his pryor works I will laugh at you all leaving when you never get your way. "Keep fucking around, I will make you find out." Is his exact mentality to forced naratives.

To spite this I do NOT hate your ship, I hate your bad behavior and narsistoc desire to look clean while being a dirty bitch. And that is not a refrence to what you ship but the piss ass bullshit attude your retarded asses have taken towards me from day one.

Some of you did this because of one losers spurging and ghastlughting. If my view on this upsets you keep in mind my beef is not with the ship but a few of the shippers who are literaly being loser cry bully baby fucks.

Again if you are not doing this you do not have to worry; I could care less what you do with your ship but when you try to literaly lie to me, bully me, and make attempts to intimidate me with a hate mob, you just pissed me off to a point where I literaly salavate at getting to rip your revisionist ass a new hole.

I do NOT take kindly to people STUPID enough to try and threaten me; but I am going to be generious because most of you were not alive long enough to know what my family is like. Calling me all the progressive slurs will just be taken and SLAMMED back at you full force with reciepts.

Come at me at your own risk, I can and will destroy you... again if you are here because just curious this does not apply to you. But if you are one of the little fuckers starting shit know that yes you ARE an open target for criticisim for your bad attude alone.

Do not get me started on the activisim that never brlongs in a fucking FANDOM. I will tear you and your shit orgnizations down. Again I am not a nice person to anyone STUPID enough to THREATEN me.

[haootia]

i mentioned this in the tags of a post the other day but i want to share more of my vintage tumblr memories for those who werent there to experience them (you lucked out)

the block button didnt do anything except hide that blog from your notifications. they could still follow you and interact with all your posts you just wouldnt see it in your activity.

pursuant to that, if someone violated your DNFI (blog rules were called DNFIs before they were called BYFs before they were called DNIs) and you wanted them off your blog the only option was to send them an ask saying "unfollow me" and hope on the honor system they did.

this is probably why callouts were such a massive part of the blogging ecosystem , if someone annoyed you or was mildly problematic the only sure way to get them to stop was to run them off the site completely.

you probably remember that being able to actually disable reblogs on a post is a pretty new feature, before that it was part of the same honor system as DNFIs. in the old days there were roving gangs of troll blogs solely dedicated to finding vent posts tagged "dont reblog" and reblogging them, including copying over text that was in the tags / readmore.

to evade the troll blogs people had to start tagging their posts with increasingly obtuse typing quirks like "d0%t r38l09". speaking of tags,

the habit of adding slashes to the end of trigger tags is because tumblrs search feature and url parsing used to be Even More Dogshit than it is now and if a tag had certain characters in it (hyphens and i believe asterisks also worked) you couldnt browse it on the blog. this was considered good etiquette to show you cared about your followers wellbeing by not letting them doomscroll the trigger tags, and also made it harder for trolls to find triggering pics to spam your inbox with when you had a controversial take on steven universe ship dynamics. sometimes people just added a bunch of random numbers to the end of a tag like "blood 363820" which had the same effect of making it unsearchable but still worked for the blacklist because

blacklisting was a browser extension. you couldnt blacklist on the app for YEARS. old school users remember when xkit was an actual necessity to interact with the site. ancient school users remember tumblr savior.

this post is already too long so lets do a lightning round: having your blog index page automatically redirect to your aesthetic tag. custom cursors with particle effects. everyones blog being an unreadable pastel-on-white 8pt text nightmare. alternatively, everyones blog being a garish red-on-black knife emoji nightmare. follow forevers. i hear promo hour still survives as a relic population in some circles. kin pages with 75 grid icons sorted into literally me / primary / secondary / tertiary with discrete DNFI rules. every personal post being tagged "lms if read". post limit blogs. hunger games simulator and xyzzy and rabb.it and drawpile and skype groupchats. if you remember tanburu honestly you should be getting paid survivors benefits. i could list a bunch of big name callouts that would overtake some of you with a precipitous feeling of dread but i wont because i know some of them are still on this website Right Now. im not even a real Tumblr Old i was 11 years old in 2014 and i know the true elders have secrets i cannot comprehend. its so dark in here. i remember when DMs were new.

[swords-of-a-soilder]

Hey guys just a reminder to think critical about the information present to you, when in doubt check it yourself!

I still see misinformation spread about this situation despite it being mostly over. Please note the "victim's" (in quotes because she doesn't seem to like being called such) account is not Private.

You can check for yourself if you see someone sharing around a screenshot of what she allegedly said, it was private before but it's not anymore you can check.

All I ask is you don't harass her; I will say at the moment as someone who's made the mistake of publicity saying "I'm a victim of domestic abuse" and then got spammed by assholes telling me I deserved the abuse and or I'm lying about it, it seems most of her haters are just misgontic trolls.

I've only seen one of them claim to be in support of Forver but the hash tags they present for their movement "protect forever" is just a spam hashtag for a movie promotion and "we Stan with forever" is completely empty.

(I'm not gonna link it because I think it's irrelevant, the person who made the comment is very clearly a troll who intents to make Forver look bad. If you support Forever you would respect the "victim" as he requested)

That being said as someone who's study her account and way of typing for the past few days please know her character right now is "this is what happened but I'm not a victim and please leave Forver alone".

so without naming any names if you see a burner/alt account Sharing a screenshot of her saying something along the lines of oh idk, "Forver has done a lot worst that what it seems they're trying to clean up his image you don't know the full story."

And you, like me was just on her account that morning because despite "ending" your research for mental health reasons you find yourself still looking into it by second nature.

And didn't see a single tweet like that despite checking the replies, yeah press X to doubt on that motherfucker

People will lie for; attention and or to make Forever look worst, do not forget that this started with an Anti and whether you believe it or not antis will contuine to fan the flames so people don't start questioning them.

And it's no coincidence that as soon as a lot of people as started expressing concern of the intention of the account that cancelled Forever, that a screenshot of the victim acting out of character and directly accuassing Forver start circulating.

Check for yourself

Again the "victims" account isn't private right now, you should be able find it on your own but if you been searching for a while and genuinely can't dm me (at least try first, don't spam me) with you regular account no atls or burners, I won't be exposing anyone if that's y'all fear but again as someone who's been harassed by trolls before for Just saying I was a victim I don't trust y'all like that.

You shouldn't be afarid of anyone knowing you went looking for the account anyways, as long as you have good intentions.

If you ask for it using your official active account I will be in less doubt that you want to just harass her for the fun of it. Also I don't wanna just leave the link on this post so ass-wipe who didn't even read the post can click and it try to harass her into going Private again.

[littleguys-ooc]

Your name is AVIVAE INCARN.

(warning for graphic descriptions of violence. or whatever that ao3 tag is.)

Or as you will be referred to for the time being, Her Venerable Viciousness.

You are standing in a long abandoned courthive, exactly on time, as usual. This is where you regularly meet your FLARP partner, Her Passionate Prosecution. Though you typically just refer to her as Prosecutor during events like this.

The Prosecutor arrives with her (you assume) unconscious victim for the night. You don't go into the room she's in. You'd rather not interrupt her while she violently wakes the troll and shouts instructions at them. Instead, you step into the room of tyranny, and take your place at the head of the courtblock. You've been waiting for this routine all perigee.

You and Her Passionate Prosecution have been hatefriends for a very, very long time, and you have the same routine every few weeks. She grubnaps some unsuspecting troll, drags them into the courtblock, and tells them they've been accused of a heinous, rebel-adjacent crime. She brings them into the courtroom, states her case, and they have to try to defend themself. The evidence is gathered pre-meeting, but the story is made up along the way. You, of course, are here as a stand-in of His Honorable Tyranny. You order the courtblock participants around and make your judgement at the end of every trial. The accused is always guilty, with no exceptions. After the Prosecutor has had her fill of accusations for the night, you drain the formerly accused's blood until they shrivel up like a raisin, and store the liquid in a jar to return to your collection. She gets legislacerator training and you get blood. It's a win-win situation.

After some shouting from the other room, the Prosecutor walks into the room of tyranny and cuffs tonight's victim to his stand. An oliveblood with spikey looking hair. She then walks back to her own stand and looks up at you excitedly. You clear your throat.

"Ladies and Gentletrolls, tonight you are here to witness the trial of-" You check your notes. "-Fozzai Tratio, who has been accused of taking part in an upcoming rebel conglomerate." You stare directly at the nonexistant audience, then turn back to the Prosecutor. "Let the trial commence. Prosecutor, speak your piece."

She smiles and looks down at some of her sticky notes with bulletpoints on them. "Your Viciousness, the accused has been seen with multiple lowblooded trolls, covering up cameras around the city and even dismantling a few filial drones!" She holds up a few crudely drawn pictures of Fozzai and some nameless rustbloods, with taped up security cameras and broken drones drawn beside them. You examine them like they're something to be taken seriously, and then speak up. "Incriminating. Would the accused like to refute this?" You flick your gaze over to the doomed, who is staring at Her Passionate Prosecution incredulously. "I- Yes???" And he's fallen for the bait. They always do.

"Those are-" The Prosecutor interrupts him mid sentence. "Address Her Viciousness properly!" The accused looks ever so slightly more annoyed but starts up again. "Your Viciousness, those are very clearly crayon drawings." He facepalms with his free hand. "They aren't photographic evidence." And now here comes the fun part, where you berate the troll for not treating shitty scribbles like they're actual pictures. "Are you really trying to say that real, tangible proof that you have committed atrocities against the empire should not be accounted for and treated as such because the photos were taken with a crayon filter?" He stares at you with a bewildered look on his face. "What are-" He speaks up, but you interject. "You do NOT interrupt me while I am speaking!" The Prosecutor chuckles quietly to herself while you chew him out.

Her Passionate Persecution chimes in. "Your Viciousness, may I speak for the courtblock?" You contemplate your response for a few seconds before talking. "I suppose you may hold the stage." You slump down in your chair and let the Prosecutor speak. "I believe that if the accused is unwilling to take this trial seriously, that's an admission of guilt in itself! He doesn't have anything substantial to argue with because he knows that he did it." She crosses her arms. "I really don't think any more needs to be said on this topic..." She's asking for you to end the trial early. You oblige, of course. She is your dear friend, after all.

"The Prosecution raises a very good point. Very well. I deem this troll guilty of all accused acts!" He looks up at you like he can't believe a word of what you're saying. You don't give him room to talk. "Would the Prosecutor like to do the honors?" You turn your head to her. It's an offer you don't give her very often - you enjoy drawing the blood on your own. She smiles brightly at you, as she always does. "Of course, Your Viciousness!" And with that, you step down from the stage and hand your sterilized tools over to her, and place the jar she'll use on the stand next to Fozzai. She cuffs his other hand.

"...What are you doing..?" He looks afraid. As he should be. Neither of you answer - you just step back and watch Her Passionate Prosecution do your job for you. She smiles at him. "Hold still or this'll hurt a LOT more." And then she jabs the needle into his arm. "Fuck!" He jolts back and she looks a little annoyed at him "What did I JUST say?" She doesn't stop taking his blood until the tool is full. She then empties its contents into the jar, jabs the needle in again, and repeats the same thing. Again. And again. And again. You don't know how much time has passed by the time he's still and lying on the floor. You don't bother to check if he's breathing - you'd say it's safe to assume he's already dead. The Prosecutor hands your tools back to you and you pocket them and seal the jar closed tight.

You smile at her to the best of your ability. "It is always nice being able to do this with you. I know you are very busy with your usual work." She grins at you. There's blood on her shirt. "I'd never skip out on training with my best buddy!" Her best buddy. That is what she calls you. "Yes. Training." You fail to not sound sarcastic. You know she's trying her best, but you really don't think this kind of thing is going to help her in an actual courtblock. "I would not want to do this with anyone else." You yawn and run one of your hands through your hair absent-mindedly.

"I do think it is time I got going. I feel ever so slightly faint." If you're being honest with yourself you don't quite recall the last time you recuperated. "Ah, I feel ya. See you next perigee, Vae!" She waves to you as she exits the courtblock. You decide to head back to your hive and avoid sleeping for the next five hours.

@mutini-ooc

[lusiibeingcute]

...suppose i should be makin' a real introduction...

...prefer not ta share my name online ... y'all can call me pasque ... or just about anything else. i've been called dad a couple times ... 'pparently it's an alien word for lusus or somethin' ... don't bother me none :} ... i use he/him :}...

...i made this blog so trolls could share cute pictures and stories about their lusii ... and cuz one a' my cullees told me i should get grumblr...

...speakin' of,,, i'm a little old for this social media thing ... 19 sweeps young,,, haha ... i'm also beforan (apparently some trolls on here ain't...? nice ta meet ya, non-beforans) ... 'm a culler of two an' a former cullee myself (lifelong,,, haha) ... this blog ain't about me or about cullin',,, but if ya got any questions about either i'd be happy to answer 'em ... my cullees might talk on here sometimes, but y'all better be nice ... an' before ya ask,,, one of 'ems too young for an account an' the other don't want social media...

...uh,,, some other stuff 'bout me ... please don' yell,,, i got sensitive ears ... i understand if yer quirk's all caps,,, that ain't the same thing,,, don' worry ... i also don' talk in real life,,, but i'm real verbose when i write :} ... i'm an oliveblood,,, m' sign's lesces ... all my quads're open (too busy farmin' and cullin' to really get out there,,, haha) i live on a lusus farm,,, an' my lusus is still alive an' kickin' (no,,, they don' always take away yer lusus when yer culled) ... i'll post pictures of 'er eventually :}...

...so uh, yeah ... send me stuff about yer lusii or ask me questions,,, jus' be nice to each other's all i ask :} ... oh, an' ya can't offend me,,, so don' bother,,, i've heard it all...

...tags i use:...

#...cute lusii... - ...what this blog's really for,,, cute pictures and stories about lusii...

#...me... - ...me...

#...pictures... - ...photos,,, either from asks or if my kiddos can ever teach me how this ding-danged palmhusk is s'posed to work...

#...kiddos... - ...my cullees ... love 'em lots...

#...cullin'... - ...posts about cullin'...

#...talkin'... - ...havin' conversations with folks...

OOC: run by @upward-centrifuge :D

NOTE: if you wanna send an ask on anon but you want it to have a picture, just send me the picture separately and tell me which anon you want me to attach it to.

I wanted to make a gimmick blog and for some reason I went hey, let's make the gimmick blog the only character i have with actual backstory and shit. anyway i'm not giving background for him like i do for my other blogs you're just gonna have to find out for yourself. what i will say is cowboy dad is transgender as hell. He's... technically nonverbal but only in the most literal sense? Idk if there's a word for that? He'll talk your ear off when he's able to write, type, or sign, it's just talking out loud he can't do. He's only 40 but is basically a grandfather. He for sure thinks lol means lots of love.

typing quirk: starts and ends paragraphs with ellipses, puts spaces around punctuation that ends a sentence and turns punctuation into ellipses (...? , ...! , ,,, , etc). Capitalizes nothing ever. Has a southern accent that shows itself in his typing quirk. Uses a bracket for a mouth in his emojis like this :}. Refuses to swear but will very willingly make things up or use ridiculous expressions to replace swears. Misuses "quotation marks", usually for """emphasis""". Similarities in his typing quirk to a certain canon bronzeblood's are entirely accidental I swear. It's based on how old people text and is also supposed to convey that he hates it when things are loud.

anyways enjoy Pasque he's for sure one of the guys ever.

[embodyingchaos]

❥ melt your heart | chapter three

pairing: draco malfoy x oc genre: best friends to lovers! slow burn! warnings: TROLL IN THE DUNGEON word count: 3.3k masterlist: melt your heart last chapter: chapter two next chapter: chapter four

THE HOSPITAL WING was empty except for the only patient there, neville. "'ello, nevs. how's the wrist doing?" julianna asked him, neville mustered up a smile. "madam pomfrey tended to it. should be healed up in no time. it's okay, i'm used to getting injured by now." his reply brings julianna to a frown, "best be more careful then? don't want your limbs disappearin' all a sudden." she joked and handed him the glass ball, "here's your remembrall. i'm sorry about draco, he's just a big, stinking bully." she apologised and neville shook his head, "i should stand up to him, b-but i just- i'm too scared." "and hey, that's alright. move at your own pace. it's already a huge improvement that you do want to stand up to malfoy." julianna comforted him, patting him on the shoulder.

when madam pomfrey came back, she had said neville could be discharged and so they walked off to their respective classes. sadly for julianna, her class was history of magic with ravenclaw. it went by slower than slower could go by, and that says a lot. however, once it was finished and she came out of the classroom, she was faced with whispers around her about how harry was the new gryffindor seeker. immediately, she rushed off to see him.

she found them staring at a trophy case. "gryffindor's brand new seeker?! amazing!" she gushed and harry turned a bright shade of pink, "it's not that amazing." "oh, but it is!" julianna insisted and then she caught what the three of them were looking at,  "merlin! your father was a seeker too?" the revelation shocks her, harry nodded as his eyes roamed around the case and saw something. "seemed like your father was one too?" he asked and julianna almost snapped her neck at how fast she looked. there stood, in all its glory, a plaque with the name 'maurice candy' written on it. julianna tip toed as high as she could to admire it, "he was a seeker?" she whispered to herself, her eyes glistening.

"he's a bloody seeker?!" she exclaimed in a high register, startling the three gryffindors. "could've been something better like a beater but he's a seeker?! no offense, harry." she turned to him and he had a deadpanned look on his face. "gee, none taken." he rolled his eyes playfully, "what's wrong with seeker?"  ron asked, "well, it's kind of overrated, don't you think? either way, it's just my preference. i like the beaters' position much better." julianna crosses her arms, "well, what's your mother's name?" hermione asked, her eyes observing the awards. "ivy purice." "oh, look at that. she's a beater for slytherin." hermione's words had julianna scrambling over to her spot, "where?!" "right there! look with your eyes, not your elbows!" julianna glares at hermione for the nagging and looks at the plaque. it was right there, her mother's name with the words beater over it. this meant the entire world to julianna, learning something new about her parents.

the four of them walked up to the gryffindor common room, the three said julianna could tag along for a bit since she needed hermione's help with history of magic. ron was telling harry how spooky it is that hermione knew more about him than he knew himself, when all of a sudden, the stairs started moving. "what's happening?!" harry exclaimed, "the staircases change, remember?" hermione reminded them, "let's go this way." harry chanted once the staircase stopped moving, "yeah, before this staircase moves again." ron commented.

the four of them headed up to the third floor and went through the door, only to realise this was a place they really shouldn't be in if they didn't want to die a most painful and horrible death, as dumbledore had said. the corridor was dark and dusty, not to mention creepy. "let's go." harry said when a fire lit up the more they walked forward but it was too late, for filch's cat, mrs. norris, was already behind them.

"oh, bugger! filch's cat!" julianna hissed, "shoo, mrs. norris, shoo!" she attempted to get her away but alas, it did not work because she is a cat, and cats listen to nobody. "run!" harry exclaimed and the four of them ran through the corridor until they stumbled upon a door. "quick, let's hide through that door!" julianna went to go open it but it didn't budge one bit. "it's locked!" she cried, "that's it, we're done for!" ron cried as well, "oh, move over!" hermione snapped, pushing both of them out of the way. she pointed her wand at the lock and casted a spell, "alohomora." with that, the door opened.

the four skedaddled into the previously locked room and closed the door. "alohomora?" "standard book of spells, chapter seven." hermione explains to ron who was confused with what spell she just used. harry and julianna looked at the room while the other two were talking, "filch is gone." hermione announced, "probably thought the door was locked." "and for good reason." harry and julianna said in sync as the four saw the reason why the room was locked.

before them stood a black, gigantic, three-headed dog that had just awoken from it's sleep. the four screamed and the dogs growled in return. they hurriedly exited the terrifying room and shut the door as quickly as they could before the dogs could attack them.

from there, julianna departed from them and headed towards her own common room, too shaken up to care about the homework she needed help with. 'that was horrid.' she thought, hugging herself as she made her way through the kitchen, accidentally bumping into a house elf. "oh! sorry!" she apologised to the tiny creature, "oh, young master candy needn't apologise to ditzy gilpy. it twas gilpy's fault." the house elf, gilpy, bowed, julianna had seen her around the kitchens before, she made lovely cookies. "no, gilpy. it was entirely my fault, i wasn't focusing. take the apology, yeah?" she smiled at gilpy and gilpy reluctantly nodded before going back to her duties.

when julianna reached the hufflepuff common room, she saw ernie macmillan was reading a book near the fire, three other hufflepuffs were conversing at one of the tables and hannah and susan were doing their homework at one of the tables as well. julianna dashed straight towards them, placing her book bag onto the seat before sitting down herself.

"where've you been, juli?" hannah asked, looking up from her stressful potions homework. "oh- uh- um-" julianna had no idea what to say, she was stumped to say the least. "was trying to find hermione granger and ask her to help me with history of magic. didn't find her." she lied, opening up her bag and taking out her history of magic textbook. "do you need me to help?" susan volunteered but julianna only shook her head, "to be entirely honest, i only wanted to ask hermione 'cause if i pretend i don't understand anything at all, she'll do my homework for me indirectly." julianna gives the two a cheeky smile as they roll their eyes with smiles on their faces.

julianna was heading to charms class when draco had sauntered next to her. "candy." he greeted but julianna didn't respond. she hadn't talked to him since the incident with neville's remembrall. "what? are you still not talking to me?" he scoffed in disbelief, julianna pretended not to hear him. "what do you want me to say? sorry?" still, no answer. draco sighed out of frustration, "fine, i'm sorry. happy?" nope, nothing. the blonde boy groaned, "you can't ignore me forever, juli." wrong! she can.

"could you tell me how to get you back to talking to me?" draco pleaded, now, this, this was a surprise to julianna. did he miss her that much? she puts her finger up, signalling him to wait till they reach the charms classroom. they walked in silence and when they reached the classroom, they decided to sit next to each other.

she took out her parchment, quill and ink, only to start writing something on it. she handed it over to draco, the note read:

hello, draco. if you want me to start speaking to you again, you need to apologise. not to me, but to neville. if not, i will no longer speak to you for the rest of my remaining days here at hogwarts.

draco's eyeballs nearly bulged out of their sockets reading the bloody note. "apologise?! to longbottom?!" he repeated out loud, julianna nodded. draco thought about it, she only said during her days at hogwarts, so he would just have to wait for another seven years before being able to talk to her again. he could totally survive that! no, he can't. he'll literally pass away. with a distressed sigh, he gave in. "okay, fine! i'll apologise to longbottom later! can you please just talk to me now for the time being?" draco asked, the hufflepuff thought about it but shook her head.

then, she had no choice but to talk to him because professor flitwick had partnered them up. luckily, this spell was quite individualistic so she didn't really see the need to talk to him.

"wingardium leviosa!" julianna swished and flicked her wand as the charms professor had instructed but to no avail, the feather stood still. julianna was never really good at charms, she just didn't have the talent for it. draco saw her struggle. "try saying the words on the same beat as the swish and flick. like this." draco demonstrated it but didn't carry out the spell, the hufflepuff tried to follow but it was no use, the feather still wouldn't float up. soon, hermione's feather had gone up and seamus' had blown up. nothing new really.

at her last attempt, the feather managed to float up and julianna let out a giggle. "i did it, draco!" "mm, that didn't take you long to talk to me again." and julianna immediately went silent, "oh great. gone back to the silent treatment d'ya?" he complained and julianna slightly nods, "i'll-" he sighs heavily once more, "apologise to longbottom later." he finishes his sentence and casts the spell, his feather going up at once and julianna smiles without him noticing.

after the class, draco and julianna had cornered neville(he struggled a bit because he thought they were going to beat him up), he couldn't believe the fact that draco malfoy was apologising to him but he knew it was all thanks to julianna and he appreciated it, draco sounded pretty sincere. the rest of the day the slytherin and hufflepuff hung out until dinner arrived, draco told crabbe and goyle to go off on their own, underneath a tree near the black lake.

"are you sure we're allowed to be here, dray?" she asked, draco leaned back onto the stump. "who cares? i need a break from all that incessant learning." he groaned, closing his eyes while julianna sat next to him and opened up her sketchbook. the blonde opened up one of his eyes and peered over her shoulder, "you draw?" he asked, julianna let out a tiny 'mhm' as she started drawing a base of the lake before them. they sat in silence for hours, just enjoying each other's company. "draco?" "yeah?" "do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a bird?" draco stares at her for a while, "no, why the bloody hell would i do something like that?" he asked, puzzled. julianna sighed and leaned back, coincidentally leaning slightly on his shoulder but draco doesn't do anything to move her.

"i mean, to fly, to be free, from expectations and responsibilities. just fly constantly." she explained, looking at the water as she did some finishing touches on her sketch. draco stayed silent. he wasn't going to lie, he would like that. "done!" she shouted and a few birds in the tree they were laying under flew away. "merlin, you scared the birds away, candy floss." he muttered, earning julianna's attention. "candy floss?" she leaned her head to the left as she looked at him before grinning widely, "i like that." she said making draco blush, "what d'you think?" she then showed him her sketch.

it was a sketch of the black lake as expected. what draco wasn't expecting was for there to be a mini tree with a mini her and mini him laying underneath it. "i think it's..." lovely, was one of the words he could have said but being an eleven year old boy who didn't want his feelings to come across, "horrid. my hair doesn't look like that from the back!" he exclaimed, pointing at the drawing. julianna looks perplexed, "turn around for a moment." draco follows, "yep. it looks just like this." draco snapped his head at her, huffing. julianna only cackles before looking back at her sketch. "hm. guess i'll just throw this one away since it turned out bad." she said, tearing out of the sketchbook and as she was about to crumple it up, the boy cried out a "no!" before snatching it. "uh, i mean- i'll throw it for you." draco cleared his throat, turning around the tree stump and crunching up a few leaves, pretending to be crumping up the piece of paper.

julianna only smirked, knowing he probably didn't do that and is probably folding it up real nice to keep in his pocket. she looked at the time and realised it was time for the halloween dinner which she was itching to go to. "it's time for the dinner!" she announced, standing up and dusting her skirt off. julianna placed her sketchbook back into her book bag and slung it over her shoulder. "let's go!" she urged the boy who seemed to just want to continue resting under the tree. it took her a total of 15 minutes to pull him from his spot and head to the great hall.

when they reach the great hall, they bid each other goodbye before heading to their own tables. "hello, everyone!" she greeted susan, hannah, ernie and justin finch-fletchey. "hey, had fun with malfoy?" hannah asked with a raised eyebrow, "now, who said i was with malfoy?" "i did, because i saw you with him near the black lake." the blonde continued, crossing her arms. "well, i'm allowed to hang out with whoever i want, no?" julianna asked, "yes, but be careful with him. he's a horrid person." julianna frowned, sure, he was mean, but he wasn't horrible, right? she ignored the conversation the rest had as she turned around to look at the gryffindor table and realised something weird. hermione granger was nowhere in sight.

weird. she rarely ever misses, well, anything. the doors then slammed open. "troll! in the dungeon! troll in the dungeon!" screeched professor quirrell who came running into the hall, pointing behind him. the entire hall had gone dead silent, the only thing heard was the storm outside. "thought you ought to know." quirrell muttered before fainting, falling to the ground. then, everyone started screaming in panic, dropping all their food and getting out of their seats to scramble out the great hall. julianna sat still, "what can a troll do?" she whispered to herself, confused. "silence!" dumbledore bellowed and the hall become silent once more, "everyone will please not panic." he announced, "now, prefects will lead their house back to the dormitories. teachers will follow me to the dungeons." and soon the chaos became organised chaos.

"alright, first years! come on!" gabriel ushered, not wanting to be near the great hall at all. "hurry! our common room is only one floor down so it won't take too long to get there!" he makes sure each of them are following him but misses when julianna tagged along with the gryffindors to ask harry and ron where hermione was.

when she reached them, the two boys had stopped walking. "julianna-" "where's hermione?" she asked frantically, the boys looked at each other. "oh, no." "she's in the girl's bathroom! we've got to go help her!" harry says and all three of them head back to the staircase. as they made their way there, they spotted a big shadow. "i think the troll's left the dungeon." harry pulled the two behind a wall to hide from the troll as it walked by, "it's going into the girl's bathroom!" julianna says, chasing after the creature. "wait, julianna! wait for us!" harry exclaimed, him and ron trailing after her.

as the three burst into the girl's lavatory, the troll is seen destroying all the stalls with it's club. "hermione! move!" julianna shouted, spotting the girl on the floor inside the stalls. hermione moved under all the walls before cowering to the farthest side of the restroom. her wails for help continued as the boys decided to throw broken wood at the troll to distract it. hermione runs to hide under a sink but it doesn't help one bit. harry takes out his wand and grabs onto the troll's club before landing on its neck, his wand getting stuck in its nose. julianna tries to get pass the troll by ducking underneath while it was distracted with harry, she grabs hermione and brings her back to the other side near the door. "do something!" harry shouted as the troll held onto him by his leg, "i'll go call a teacher! ron, do something!" julianna tells them before running out the door to find at least just one professor.

lucky for her, she stumbled across three. "professors! i found troll! harry in trouble!" she said between pants, holding her knees. mcgonagall, snape and quirrell look at each other before following after julianna without any questions. by the time they arrived, the troll was dead asleep on the ground. "woah! you guys did it!" she said happily, but professor mcgonagall was more relieved.

"you two!" she pointed at harry and ron, "explain yourselves!" she demanded, "well, what it is-" "you see, professor-" "it's my fault, professor mcgonagall." both boys were cut off by hermione, "miss granger?" "i went looking for the troll. i'd read about them and thought i could handle it, but i was wrong. if harry, ron and julianna hadn't come and found me, i'd probably be dead." the other three couldn't believe their ears. hermione granger lying? to a teacher? no, teachers? they all had looks of disbelief on their faces.

"be that as it may, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. i would've expected more rational behaviour on your part and am very disappointed in you, ms. granger. five points will be taken from gryffindor for your serious lack of judgement." professor mcgonagall scolded hermione before turning to the other three, "as for you two gentlemen, i just hope you realise how fortunate you are. not many first-year students could take on a full grown mountain troll and live to tell the tale! five points will be awarded to each of you for sheer dumb luck." ron and harry smile, satisfied with themselves. mcgonagall looked at julianna, "five points to you as well, ms. candy. thank you for coming straight to us to inform of the situation." julianna smiled, "thank you, professor." mcgonagall and snape then leave before quirrell told them they'd better leave as well before the troll woke up.

as the four left the bathroom, harry thanked hermione for getting them out of trouble. "mind you, we did save her life." "mind you, she might not have needed saving if you hadn't insulted her." harry shot back at ron, "what are friends for?" he asked to hermione who only smiled at him, "so that's why she was missing from dinner, was wondering where you went, 'mione." julianna nudged hermione's shoulder with her own as they grinned at each other. safe to say that the four definitely got much closer after that incident.

[rosafloera]

Bad Actor: ComradeKatara (aka Othelo aka Grendelsmilf Aka Noelleakopian)

Previously part of Lesbians4Sokka.

That should already ring some alarm bells, Lesbians4Sokka was a page notorious in the community for some of the most brutal cyberbullying. Think RAPE THREATS! Before I start showing supporting evidence, a disclaimer:

*Let's not add to the situation, do what we can to ignore her and move on. She is a troll that doesn't deserve our attention, nothing will change her mind. There are bigger world problems requiring our focus.

Fun fact: the L4S page IS now ComradeKatara, hovering over the old tag shows

TLDR: ComradeKatara headcanons Katara as a homophobe, constantly mocking/cyberbullying her and anyone who disagrees. In the same breath she is a devout Sokka x Zuko shipper, which is laughable and contradictory.

All ‘evidence’ they have ever provided consists of misinterpretations of canon so illogical it’s pointless to reply to.

Also I’m sure CK doesn’t publicise their Toph and Azula hate and homophobic headcanons that much because Toph and Azula stans are passionate and would rip them apart in a second. Get behind me, Katara. I love you 🥹❤️

CK's FAQ.

She hates Zutara because it's 'racist'. Which is hilarious when we see her ship Zukka. Even the explanation as to why she headcanons Katara as a homophobe, (which she so graciously replaced the entire word with 'straight') beating around the bush and actually explaining nothing at all.

Saying 2 contradictory things in 1 sentence is quite the talent and exposes that she is in constant agony over which side to pander to more. *She is nothing without pandering!* Poor CK doesn't love Katara at all.

In her own words....

'i think CK’s writing proves inconsistent with both the characters and the themes of the show, to an offensive degree. pretty much the only character treated with any sort of respect is momo, and that’s probably because he can’t talk.'

Leave poor Momo alone.

Don't be shy CK. Let it be known you were Lesbians4Sokka.

Lesbians who only hate on women, unsurprisingly have very queerphobic takes. Dear god, do they EVEN like women???

CK reblogged this btw.

At least they're aware?

If only they would leave these characters' names out their mouth, the whole of ATLA actually.

Oh, really. You had no idea when you mercilessly cyberbullied people with your cliques, I assume.

Nor of your lesbians4sokka past, huh?

Peace out.

More proof:

#l4s #lesbians4sokka

https://www.tumblr.com/comradekatara/search/homophobic

Wayback machine just in case lol:

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Dear baby tumblr users

I just want to let any of the little baby accounts that follow me now because of the stupid new rule tumblr put in place to know:

If you don't have at least have some number of liked posts (not from me specifically but anywhere on here) in your Liked folder, by like a week after you've followed me, I will assume you are a bot and report & block you as such.

Or better yet start making posts yourself, like at least 1, or reblogging things you like. Have that be the first thing you do when you can start doing stuff.

I don't know what you think tumblr is, but this is a blogging site, you kind of gotta give the rest of us at least a vague idea that you're a sentient being with human experiences and desires ok.

What you should do on Tumblr

Now I don't mean put personal details like your real name, or where you live/work/go to school, or what your triggers are. That's none of any of our business, and honestly you shouldn't be putting that anywhere else either.

Stuff like your hobbies, or favorite books/tvshows/movies, or some weird out there thing that happened to you one time.

You want to interact with fandom more, this is a pretty good website to do it on, especially if it's for collaborative works.

You want to role play, there's entire role play communities on here.

You wanna do nothing but follow feel good blogs that posts nothing but cute animal photos you can do that.

Tumblr is what I like to call day-walking social media. In the fact that it allows you to be an absolute little creature on here in your own time, and be able to pass as a normal member of society IRL if you're doing it right.

If you're trying to get internet famous, you've infamously come to the wrong place as the most famous users on tumblr tend to be people the average tumblr user base has done their best to run off the site.

How tumblr works best is if what you're most easily identified as among your fellow tumblrites is your personal interests and quirks rather than your personal information.

There's no such thing as spam liking or spam reblogging on tumblr. You can dig into someone's post archive and like and reblog every single one of their posts and nothings going to happen to you or the person you're reblogging stuff from.

Blocking

You don't need a reason to block anyone.

I've blocked people for just seeing them spew hateful shit directed at another user and that made me uncomfortable.

I've blocked people who're in the same fandoms as me just because some of the stuff the write/draw makes me uncomfy.

I've blocked blogs who just makes posts about stuff I'm uninterested in but constantly come up in my search results because we're in the same fandom. As there's only so many variations of character/reader story tag variations I can be bothered to put into the block tag function before I just get sick of doing it.

I've blocked people for dumb blorbo opinions that I just cannot agree with, because that's far better than starting beef with a rando because I saw that they view a character differently than I do.

I've blocked people who I can only assume were making a trolling attempt in the comments of my own posts. Or they really were that illiterate and gutsy enough to come yell at me for their dumb interpretation of what I posted on my own post.

Tagging

There's the tag block feature as I mentioned earlier, though be warned it's not quite perfect.

Dumb people will try and censor themselves in the tags, which means it doesn't get blocked when you try and block that tag. So don't use numbers or symbols in place of letters. Not to mention improperly tagging all together.

Such as tagging a flashing image of something as Epilepsy rather than tagging it as Flashing, which is actually dangerous. As people who actually have Epilepsy tend to use their tag as a way to talk about their experiences and talk to fellow epileptic people meaning that they could get bombarded with flashing images unexpectedly if you're tagging flashing imagery as Epilepsy.