#and trying to make a plea for compassion

[benevolent-blackhole]

August Resolutions Post

I resolved to read four books (at least one novel) and listen to two new-to-me (if not new) albums a month. And I record them here

Novels:

Games for Dead Girls (2023)-Jen Williams

Our Wives under the Sea (2022)-Julia Armfield

Nonfiction:

The Global History of Black Girlhood (2022)- Corinne Field and LaKisha Michelle Simmons

Red Comet: The Short Life and Blazing Art of Sylvia Plath (2020)- Heather Clark

Music:

Songs Written for Piano (2022)-Katie Gregson-MacLeod

Unreal Unearth (2023)- Hozier

Highlights: Our Wives under the Sea, Red Comet

[mohammedabasan]

Rescue a Family from the Agony of War in Gaza https://gofund.me/091031b1

Hello everyone,

My name is Mohammed, and I am reaching out to you with a heavy heart and an urgent plea for help My family in Gaza is facing unimaginable hardships due to the ongoing conflict, and I am desperately seeking your support to provide them with the relief they so desperately need.

The situation in Gaza is dire, with countless families suffering from the devastating effects of war. My family has lost their home, their livelihood, and their sense of safety. They are struggling to find basic necessities like food, water, and medical supplies.

لقد بدأت حملة GoFundMe لجمع الأموال لتلبية الاحتياجات الفورية لعائلتي ومساعدتهم على إعادة بناء حياتهم. ستذهب تبرعاتكم السخية مباشرة إلى توفير الإمدادات الأساسية والمأوى المؤقت والرعاية الطبية لهم.

Your support can make a world of difference in their lives. Even a small contribution can bring hope and relief to my family in these trying times. Please consider donating and sharing this post with your network to help us reach as many kind-hearted individuals as possible.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your compassion and generosity. Together, we can make a meaningful impact and provide my family with the chance to survive and rebuild.

With gratitude,

Click here for support https://gofund.me/091031b1 MOHAMMED

[fumikoshi]

Monkeys

Fumi: I decided to write for Geto too from now on

✧ — SUMMARY; your father sells you to Geto to pay his debts because he has no money to pay.

✧ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, humiliating nicknames, size kink, NON-CON, TWTWTW, geto is extremely cruel towards you, reader is not a sorcerer, all characters are legal age

Suguru's eyes narrowed as he watched your trembling form. He could practically smell the fear radiating off of you, and it only fueled his disdain for non-sorcerers even more. He scoffed at your tears, finding them pathetic and beneath his attention.

"Pathetic. Crying won't change anything, monkey. You're mine to use now, whether you like it or not. Your father saw fit to sell you to me like a piece of livestock. Consider yourself lucky that I'm even acknowledging your existence."

He reached out and brushed a stray tear from your cheek with a cold, calloused hand. His touch was rough, lacking any hint of tenderness or compassion.

"But don't think that this changes anything. You're still nothing to me. Just another filthy monkey that I have to tolerate."

He pushed you away, causing you to stumble back onto the bed. Suguru watched you coldly, his gaze filled with contempt.

"Now, you have two choices. You can either lie there and let me have my way with you, or you can run. But let me warn you, monkey, if you choose to run, I'll enjoy hunting you down. And when I catch you, the punishment will be far worse than anything you can imagine."

He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips.

"So, monkey, what will it be? Do you want to play the obedient little monkey, or will you try to escape? Either way, it doesn't matter to me. I'll have my fun."

you trembled in horror, your body was trembling. you nod as you sit on the bed silently

Suguru's smirk widened as he watched your trembling form and heard your silent sobs. He reveled in your fear and vulnerability, finding it intoxicating. Slowly, he approached you, his steps deliberate and confident.

"Good. At least you know your place, monkey. Now, undress yourself and lie on the bed. Don't make me wait."

He reached out and roughly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his piercing eyes.

"Now, let's begin our little game, shall we?"

Suguru's grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin. He tilted your head back, exposing your vulnerable neck. His free hand trailed down your body, his touch cold and invasive.

"Remember, darling, I don't do this out of desire for you. I'm merely indulging my own sadistic pleasures."

He leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered in a low, menacing tone.

"I'll make sure you regret ever being born a monkey."

With that, he roughly pushed you down onto the bed, his hands roaming your body with a possessive hunger. His actions were forceful and dominating, leaving no room for resistance. He took pleasure in exerting his power over you, reveling in the control he had.

''AAH! IT hurts-''

you squeal and press your tiny hands on his muscular chest. he was taking your virginity ruthlessly and cruelly. 

''P-Please be gentle-ah~!''

Suguru's sadistic grin widened as he heard your pleas and felt your small hands on his chest. He relished in your pain and vulnerability, taking pleasure in the power he held over you. His grip on your wrists tightened, restraining you as he continued his relentless assault.

"Gentle?" he scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "Why would I be gentle with a monkey like you? You're nothing more than a plaything for my amusement."

He continued his forceful thrusts, his movements devoid of any tenderness or consideration for your well-being. Each motion was calculated to maximize your pain and humiliation.

"You thought this would be a fairytale, didn't you?" Suguru sneered, his voice laced with cruelty. "Well, darling, welcome to reality. This is what you get for being a pathetic non-sorcerer."

His words echoed in the room, a constant reminder of your helplessness. He reveled in the power he held over you, his mind clouded by his own sadistic desires.

As the night wore on, Suguru's actions became more brutal and unforgiving. Your pleas and cries seemed to fuel his sadistic nature, driving him to push you further into the depths of despair.

In that moment, you realized the true extent of his sadistic nature. This was your wedding night, a night that should have been filled with love and tenderness. Instead, it had become a nightmare, a living hell in the hands of a man who saw you as nothing more than a plaything for his twisted desires.

after hours, your body was like a rag-doll in his arms. you were lying limbless on the bed. liquids were dripping from your womanhood

Suguru stood over you, his chest heaving with exertion and a sadistic satisfaction evident in his eyes. He had taken everything from you, both physically and emotionally. The room was filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your labored breathing and the dripping of fluids.

A twisted smile played on Suguru's lips as he looked down at your broken form. He reveled in the sight of your vulnerability and the power he held over you. To him, you were nothing more than a discarded toy, used and discarded at his whim.

He rose from the bed, discarding your broken body like a discarded toy. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, relishing in the sight of your shattered innocence.

"Remember this night, monkey," he sneered, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Remember the pain and humiliation, for it serves as a reminder of your place in this world."

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Suguru turned away, leaving you alone in the aftermath of his cruelty. As you lay there, broken and violated, the weight of his actions settled heavily upon your shattered spirit.

With a final callous glance, Suguru turned away from you, his satisfied smirk still lingering on his face. He began to dress himself, his movements calm and collected, as if he hadn't just inflicted immeasurable pain upon you.

As he left the room, he cast one last condescending glance in your direction, a silent reminder of the power imbalance between you.

[pretty-blkgirl]

hi!

may you do a fluffy seungmin x black reader? maybe the reader experiences hate from seungmin's fans and seungmin shows her that he loves her regardless of what's being said?

it's all up to you ofc! ok bye ~ <3

Let Me Help You

//fem!black reader x idol!Seungmin//

Synopsis: After experiencing excruciating hate from his fans, you try to leave your boyfriend

Genre; angst, eventual fluff

Warnings: racism is a heavy theme in this story, reader is described as fem

A/N; Thank you so much for the request ❤️❤️ As you can see, the story is a bit lengthy since this topic is something I’m passionate about. There aren’t any explicit instances of racism present (such as the use of slurs) but it is heavily implied.

~~~~|~~~~

“Y/N?” You hear from behind you, making you jump slightly. You immediately looked back to see your loving boyfriend staring at you with pure disbelief in his eyes.

The look on his face alone makes you want to run into his arms and kiss all his pain away. The pain and confusion you caused.

You were in the bedroom you two once shared, gathering the last of your things and returning a necklace Seungmin had given you. Since he was so busy at work, it was easy to dodge him and move out of the apartment without any problems.

Your original plan was to leave the apartment without a trace. Block him, and all his family and friends, never looking back.

However, you know he deserved more than that. You two’s relationship was perfect.

Well, near perfect.

You and Seungmin were beyond compatible. You loved the same shows, food, and artists, and it helps that you were familiar with the music industry so you two connected on another level.

The company was aware of the crush you two had on one another in the beginning, so they asked Seungmin ahead of time to try his best to hide the impending relationship.

He truly did do his best to hide you, not that he wanted to. He would have preferred to show you off to the world, and let everyone know he was in a relationship with the most beautiful, caring, talented, and loving woman in the world.

However, both of you knew that he needed to seem “available” as an idol. The fans needed to believe they had a chance with him, and them finding out about you wouldn’t be good for anyone.

It was a bit more tricky as well, considering the obvious difference between you two. Neither you nor Seungmin had a racial preference when it came to dating, so you being Black and him being Asian was rarely a situation you two cared about.

To be honest, who cares about the difference in race? It was never a big deal, all his family and friends absolutely loved you, and the company even took a liking to you.

The moral of the story is, it never mattered that you two were in an interracial relationship…until it did.

Being Black in Korea was an…interesting experience. The majority of your age group and younger exhibited great openness and compassion towards everyone. But there were still some ignorant people, and those people made sure to show themselves to you.

One day, an older man caught you and Seungmin leaving a restaurant late at night. He cursed at you, insulting you and calling you names you’d never repeat.

Seungmin defended you, but the man’s outburst caught the attention of a group of teenagers who recorded the interaction.

They posted it, and it went viral quickly. Sharp-eyed fans immediately recognized the masked man’s voice and eyes. They knew it was Seungmin, then everyone knew he had a partner.

Many people supported you and your man, even other celebrities came out in support, but a large number of nonblack fans came out and started to give you hell.

They sent trucks to the company, demanding the idol break up with you. They trended tags on Twitter, they spammed Bubble with pleas for you two to break up.

Seungmin and the company both put out a statement, but the hate continued to get worse.

His members began to speak in defense of you, and you noticed paparazzi stalking outside your job.

The death threats didn't take long to start, and then the shameless TikTok videos claiming you’re only “ruining his career” and “destroying his purity” came in dozens.

Again, there was still an outpour of support, but the blatant racism you were shown was so too much to handle.

Being Black, you unfortunately experienced at least a little bit of ignorance, prejudice, or racism wherever you went. You were beyond proud of your race though, making sure everyone could feel the confidence and pride exuding off you wherever you went.

You were never ashamed of your race, you would never allow someone to make you feel bad about who you were. To you, you were beyond blessed to have such beautiful brown skin, but it did hurt to know that people hated your guts just because of your skin color.

The fans were ruthless, and you tried to stay away from the hate, but your curiosity got the best of you.

Long story short, you spent 3 hours reading about how Seungmin could do better and how his reputation is being ruined. By the 4th hour, you had started packing your stuff.

You loved Seungmin more than anything, but you started to feel like you were ruining his career. He was almost put on hiatus when the news broke, and he was so miserable. You watched as he cried on the phone with the higher-ups, and you couldn’t stand the fact that it was all your fault.

You managed to pack the majority of your things in a few hours, mostly because you didn’t have much to begin with. Running off of pure adrenaline and sadness, you left for a hotel and ignored the eventual calls that came later in the night.

You stayed away for three days and planned to come back to the apartment to get the rest of your stuff while Seungmin was supposed to be recording a music video.

Unfortunately, he played sick and was able to leave the shoot early. Something in his gut told him you’d be back at the apartment, and he was right.

“I’m sorry,” You said, staring down at the floor

“Can we talk?”

“I just came to get the rest of my things”

He sighed, “Please baby, this can’t be the end of us”

“I’m not good for you”

“Don’t you ever say something so stupid again”

Against your better judgment, you looked up at him. He was so hurt, but still managed to put a little smile on his face.

Your knees felt weak

“Why’d you leave?” He questioned

“You know why”

“Maybe” He nods, “But I wanna hear you say it”

A few seconds of silence made the atmosphere more tense than it already was.

“I’m ruining your career” You whisper

“No, you’re not”

“I am, and I don’t want your dream to be ruined all because your fans don’t like me-”

“Y/n” He interrupted, “Fuck my dream. Do you think I’ll put a career over you? I’ll leave all of this bullshit behind if it means you’ll come back home”

“I don’t want you to give up on your career!”

“And I don’t wanna lose you, so what now?” He crossed his arms, and you hate that you found him so sexy at that moment

“Please just let me leave. This has gotten so out of control”

“Baby I understand that this is overwhelming. I promise you I do, but I swear I’m doing everything in my power to ensure all those people who've been harassing you will face consequences. I promise you I’m gonna fix it”

“You can’t get all of them”

“But I can try” He shrugs

He walked over to you, silently asking to touch you. Again, against your better judgment, you look into his eyes and allow him to hug you.

“Please don’t let ignorant pieces of shit destroy our relationship. I know the hate is getting to you, but let me help you through it, let me at least try to”

You knew you were going to say yes. Both guilt and unmeasurable love filled your chest and he rocked you side to side.

“I’ll put out another statement, and I’ll go live. I’ll make sure those motherfuckers know that I’ll do anything to protect you.”

He lets you go a little to pull back and look at you, “Plus, there are still millions of people who support us.”

“I know,” You say

“So let's focus on positivity? Or maybe we can delete social media for a while? I’ll delete mine too. If you don’t wanna come home for a bit, I’ll have the company set you up with an apartment. We’ll also look for a therapist, okay?”

You nod, and mutter a small “Okay baby”

You two hug for a while, knowing you guys won’t ever let some stupid people keep you away from each other again.

[lonniemachin]

Donia @doniatanani reached out to me to help share her brother Said’s fundraiser. He is urgently trying to evacuate he and his brothers from Gaza to Egypt. Please donate and share, and if you can’t donate, please still share!

From Said’s GFM:

I'm Said Tanani from Gaza, I'm reaching out to you with a heavy heart and a plea for help getting me and my brothers out of Gaza, Me and my brothers, left our home under the continuous bombardment and artillery strikes, on foot, without carrying with us our personal supplies, our stuff, or even our money, heading from Gaza to Rafah. we lived the most difficult days of our lives in a shelter with scarce resources, sleeping on the ground. Without covers, without drinking a healthy water, without the importance life nessecary.

By now, many of you may be aware of the dire and heartbreaking situation unfolding in Gaza. It pains me deeply to share that me and my brothers are currently trapped in Gaza amidst relentless bombings, desperately seeking refuge and safety.

We are currently seeking help to evacuate from Gaza to Egypt looking for a safe and healthy place. But Unfortunately, the costs are exorbitant and change dramatically and unexpectedly by the day, as Israel's grip on the south of Gaza intensifies in the coming days and weeks, the costs will continue to rise as the demand increases and the number of agents operating the evacuation routes drops.

As of late March the evacuation fee ranges between $8,000 and $10,000 per person, before processing and transport fees, and we will pay the higher end of the range since me ,Abadi and Mohammed.

Any amount raised beyond the total will be used to supplement me & my brothers lives as refugees in Egypt.

Your donation, no matter how small, will make an impact. You will be contributing to getting my brothers to safety. The funds will be used transparently and every dollar will go towards securing our evacuation.

Please share this campaign widely to help us reach our goal and bring my brothers to safety. Your support means more than you can imagine and I am incredibly grateful for any assistance you can provide during this challenging time.

Thank you for your compassion and generosity.

Together, we can make change and help my brothers find the safety and security they need.

With heartfelt gratitude

Said Tanani.

[lintujoki]

Messmer recalled his mother's words that there is nothing more terrifying than dying alone. Maybe this was how she comforted herself, so that the thought of the barbaric deaths of her loved ones in the Shaman Village would not torment her so much? Mixed, intertwined by hornsents, but not alone.

He remembered his mother saying afterwards that they were to blame for his curse. They are to blame for his suffering, and they are to blame for her suffering. Because of them, Messmer is going to be lonely. If he tries to get close to someone, then anyone next to him will become unhappy, because sooner or later they will have to share the same pain. And that pain will be his. She didn't say it with hatred, not exhausted by anger and despair. Her voice was practically lulling, and that was the most agonizing thing. After all, this meant that his mother had long predicted for him to accept death alone. He felt like a parasite thinking about it, a monster hidden under the skin behind Marika's seal. Someone who will not make anyone happy. Someone who must die alone. Maybe that's why Marika hasn't returned to him yet? So that his torments would not make her unhappy.

"It will be our mercy to let them burn together" - he was speaking when mother's words echoed in the mind again, drowning out even the screams and pleas of those who were waiting for death in the embrace of his flame.

He did not soften under the gaze of frightened faces, and did not feel a drop of compassion. Only an iron-bound cold, so dark and devoid of emotion that he wanted to howl. To match the monster, isn't it?

But long after, he let someone... because she is too. She is too. Her suffering is something that will allow them to share the pain mutually, something that will make them look alike. She won't try to seep into the soul, and she won't try to help. He is immensely grateful, but. All this just reminds him how desecrated he is against the background of those who want to fix him. How lonely he is. Not a hint of purity, just a cursed one, in which they found something good. And isn't that insulting? Oh, let this be a thing of the past. All Messmer wanted now was for her answer to be true. So that she really knows. So that he wasn't destined to make her unhappy.

[difeisheng]

Fang Duobing kisses him, wine-clumsy movement tugging him forward, watchlessness of the night and all its courage summoned, sunk into his veins as pure helpless impulse.

Li Lianhua doesn't kiss him back.

"What are you doing, xiaozi?" he hears, in a moment's chasm of hesitancy, soft release of a sigh against Fang Duobing's mouth. He shifts back, leaving Li Lianhua's warmth behind, to look him in the eyes.

Fang Duobing has witnessed nearly every emotion spelled out across this man's features before. Committed the shape of each one to memory— amusement, irritation, a fleeting glimpse of what might be affection— to recall during lingchen when sleep refuses to find him. Li Lianhua's face is familiar to him in every guise and angle, like any other beloved artwork Fang Duobing could bring to his mind's eye.

Whatever this is though, wide-eyed shock and wordlessness and something else unknown, is new.

"Li Lianhua," Fang Duobing says. Only half a question, the rest plea, betrayed by his own tongue.

In a minute's suspense, there is no answer to meet it.

Shame, the twisting burn of it, crests and settles somewhere in his core. Fang Duobing makes to stand, to turn away, to wait. For whatever Li Lianhua will inevitably say to this latest foolish action, yet another in the misstepped journey of Fang Duobing's life. Perhaps Li Lianhua will tell him he made too many assumptions. Perhaps he will declare Fang Duobing too young, too naive for want like this, despite the fact that want, wanting for so many things, has been a lifelong compass lodged in Fang Duobing's heart and for months it has only led him back to Li Lianhua. Perhaps he will say—

"Don't go," and graceful fingers reach for Fang Duobing's wrist, his hand, his sleeve, keeping him in place.

Fang Duobing sinks down again.

He watches Li Lianhua glance down. Up, to the sky, stars cloaked in wisps of cloud. Over Fang Duobing's shoulder, into the long shadows of this clearing. Words form and tumble again into silence behind his lips, Fang Duobing can see it in the lanternlight, and this, the careful choice of the next lie, deflection, excuse, is worse than the dearth of anything to be read from his face at all.

"If you're not going to say anything honest," Fang Duobing starts. "Don't say anything at all."

Silence falls like a stone into a river. Out in the forest, an owl calls to the darkness.

"What I was going to say," Li Lianhua says, tone treading too light, "is that if you're going to try this, it should be with someone better for you than I can be."

Fang Duobing glares at him. "Didn't I just tell you not to say things that weren't true?"

"I—"

"Li Lianhua," he repeats, snaps, and finally, Li Lianhua properly shuts up.

Fang Duobing's hands are at Li Lianhua's lapels, clutching at rough, wash-worn fabric, warmed against his skin. He doesn't know when they got there. Something of the conflict clears in Li Lianhua's eyes, dark and blinking slowly. Maybe Fang Duobing understands now what it was in his expression, that he couldn't see through before.

But why would Li Lianhua have anything to fear from him?

Let me try this again, Fang Duobing thinks, begs a prayer to any deity that might listen. When he focuses on Li Lianhua once more, he's already being watched.

Li Lianhua's gaze slides down from Fang Duobing's own stare to his mouth, for the briefest of instants.

This time, when Fang Duobing leans in, so does Li Lianhua.

[ludiharambasha]

Hello everyone!

Sorry for being inactive in the last couple of days.

A dear friend of my cousin needs help to get her family evacuated from Gaza. Down below is a gofundme link. If you can help, please do so, it would be very much appreciated. Just sharing this post would also mean a lot.

Here is Tasnim's letter.

"Dear compassionate souls,

I come to you with a plea from the depths of my heart, a plea for compassion, empathy, and the chance for a family to reclaim their shattered dreams amidst the relentless chaos of war.

My beloved sister, Nour Thabit, a dedicated English teacher and a devoted mother, along with her husband who runs a small electronics business, and their three precious children, have been engulfed in the horrors of the ongoing attacks happening in Gaza. They have seen their home reduced to rubble, their livelihoods snatched away, and their hopes and aspirations torn apart by the merciless hands of war.

Hadi, the eldest at only six years old, was filled with the innocent excitement of starting school, which he only got to experience for one month. He now only dreams of a life far away from the deafening echoes of bombs and screams of children under the rubble; a life where he could live his dream of riding horses like he used to do, on the shores of Gaza.

"I miss you, please take me away from here!" - the last sentence I heard from Hadi, on a rare occasion when I am able to reach my family since internet and electircity are cut off. Each time I do hear from them I can hear the terror and the trauma in their voice even though they are trying so hard to stay strong and not let it show.

Amr, at four years old, used to revel in the joy of playing football and the simple pleasures of kindergarten, until the sounds of violence forced him to flee, leaving behind his beloved activities and the safety of routine.

And sweet Julia, just two years old, now battles the cruel grip of waterborne illness, a consequence of being deprived of very basic necessities like clean water which my family got deprived off for more than 4 months now.

Their journey has been one of unfathomable trauma and loss. Moving from place to place, seeking refuge in a world where safety feels like a distant memory, they have witnessed horrors no family should ever endure. My sister tried all in her powers to shield her children's innocence, shattered by the brutal reality of death and destruction that surrounds them; she was even coming up with comforting lies about sounds of bombings being fireworks. But it soon became impossible to build any sort of illusion of safety since my sister and her family witnessed people dying before their eyes.

My heart aches as I witness their struggle, for there is no refuge left to seek. They live now in a makeshift tent, devoid of the most basic necessities, their health deteriorating with each passing day.

But amidst the despair, there glimmers a fragile hope. A chance to escape the nightmare they find themselves trapped in, a chance to rebuild their shattered lives and reclaim the dreams that once filled their hearts with joy.

Yet, this chance comes at a cost. A fee of $8000 stands between them and the border to safety, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in their path to freedom and peace. The only way to cross the border with Egypt is to pay this fee at the checkpoint. The rest of my family is also still in Gaza but we are hoping we can at least save the kids, and with heavy heart we are making this type of prioritizing. No one should have to make choices like this. My whole family was stripped out of everything which is why there will be additional costs to cover up for the traveling and living expenses during the travels. Their only hope right now is to reach the safety of Canada where they can recieve further help from our relatives who migrated there and a chance to rebuild their lives.

So, I humbly implore you, dear friends, to open your hearts and extend a helping hand to my sister and her family. Let us come together in solidarity, in kindness, and in the unwavering belief that humanity still exists in this world. Every contibution counts. Even if you are not able to help financially, please share our story.

Let us give them the chance they so desperately deserve, to find peace, to heal, and to build a future filled with hope and possibility.

With deepest gratitude and endless hope,

Tasnim Atia

p.s.

Since I don't have a bank account in a "gofundme" eligible country, your generous contributions will be safely managed and distributed to my sister's family through the trusted hands of my dear friend, Milena, whose family (living in the UK) have graciously offered their assistance in ensuring that every donation reaches its intended recipients promptly and securely. Your support will directly impact the lives of my sister, her husband, and their three children, providing them with the means to escape the horrors of war and rebuild their shattered lives. Thank you for entrusting us with your kindness and compassion. Together, we can make a difference."

[calvincell]

I’ve been making my way through my 3rd re-listen of the incredible podcast - Batman: The Audio Adventures & just appreciating once more not only how terrifically written it is by showrunner Dennis McNicholas but also incredibly well acted by all of the amazing cast. For any unaware, the podcast is an audio fiction blend of comedy & superhero drama that was previously only an exclusive for HBO MAX subscribers back in 2021 but now both released seasons are freely available on literally every podcast app including on MAX’s own YT Channel itself, no subscription required.

In particular, I love the Harvey Dent moment we get in Season 1 - Episode 6 - “The Whale of Damocles”:

I have to first off praise the inspired creative choice the series makes to give Two-Face the dynamic that his personas are essentially like constantly bickering twin brothers - arguing, name calling & posturing but still inseparable at the end of the day.

In the scene in question, Harvey’s binary obsession has allowed The Penguin to easily lure Dent to his favorite pier on the Gotham Wharf, Pier 2, to prevent a planted bomb from destroying it. Batman arrives soon after as Dent’s desperate search brings him to the most perilous part of the pier. Batman is so earnestly trying to appeal to Harvey to stop that he almost can’t prevent slipping into his Bruce Wayne voice when we then get an excellent memorable moment (@ ~31:50) where we get a glimpse at the tortorus psychosis Harvey is living through:

Harvey gives this tragic peek into his mind as he extols the awe-inspiring & nightmarish gospel he shares with his violent other half. It’s not only a very well written torrent of mad thoughts but also brilliantly & emotionally performed by Harvey/Two-Face’s VA: Ike Barinholtz. Batinholtz truly makes Harvey sound simultaneously mesmerized, terrified & sorrowful - on the verge of tears as he tells his former friend about the completely fractured way he views the world now & Batman’s actor Jeffrey Wright matches it with his desperate pleas to Harvey’s true self colored by the unflinching compassion he has for Dent.

For how invested the show is in genuinely trying to revive a bit of the Adam West era charm and fun camp & IMO successfully making the show legitimately funny, I believe it’s also equally in touch with the aspects of the franchise exemplified in shows like BTAS ie the darkness of the setting & emotionally resonant tragedy of both Batman himself and the different members within his rogues gallery. The show is not just sharp on a comedic level but also earnestly intriguing & engaging dramatically as well.

I have no doubt sung this show’s praises before but I don’t plan to stop anytime soon because I truly believe that the series is a must listen for every fan of Batman, superheroes & audio fiction/audio dramas generally. From top to bottom, the series is a brilliant production and stands to me personally as amongst the best content within the umbrella of DC Comics at least within the last decade.

[beauttifullife]

For her.

“I can’t…” Rhaenyra whispered, her voice so faint it was almost lost in the wind, as though the very words weighed too much for her to speak. Her eyes found mine, wide and filled with a deep, heartbreaking plea. “Innocents... they were slaughtered. Children died believing I ordered this—that I wanted their deaths.”

Her voice cracked, and I could see the anguish etched into her face, the guilt weighing her down like a leaden cloak. She looked down at the baby again, her thumb gently brushing against its soft cheek, her grip tightening just slightly.

“I want to kill those men,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “I wanted to burn them to ash, for what they did.”

Her words sent a shiver down my spine, the raw emotion in her voice palpable. But the baby’s presence had pulled her back from that edge, tethering her to something more human, something beyond her rage.

“You are more than that,” I whispered, stepping closer to her, though I kept my distance, letting the baby in her arms do what words could not. “You are a mother, Rhaenyra. You fight for your children—for a better world for them, for a world that won’t be ruled by fire and blood alone. This—this isn’t you.”

She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. It was as if the weight of the world had finally come crashing down on her, all at once.

“I don’t know how to stop it,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “The rage, the need to make them pay for what they’ve done. It’s… it’s eating me alive.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart aching for her.

“You don’t have to carry it alone,” I said softly. “You don’t have to become the fire, Rhaenyra. Let it be your strength, not your undoing. You can still stop this—we can stop this. Together.”

The baby stirred in her arms, its tiny fingers grasping at the fabric of her gown, and I saw something shift in her. A softening. The cold rage that had gripped her so tightly seemed to release its hold, if only by a fraction.

For the first time since the massacre, Rhaenyra exhaled, her shoulders sagging as the weight of her emotions overwhelmed her. She held the baby closer, her grip gentle now, almost protective. The fierce dragon rider, the queen, the warrior—they were still there, but so too was the mother, the woman who had fought so hard for her children and for the realm.

“I don’t want to lose myself,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

“You won’t,” I assured her, stepping closer, my hand resting lightly on her arm. “Not as long as you remember what you’re fighting for.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze held mine, her eyes searching for something—reassurance, hope, perhaps a way back from the darkness she had nearly fallen into. And slowly, ever so slowly, I saw the glimmer of the woman I had known begin to return.

She nodded once, her resolve crystallizing into something both fierce and tender. The hardness in her eyes remained, but now it was softened by a deep, underlying compassion.

“We stop Daemon,” she said quietly, her voice steadying. “We stop this madness. For them—” She paused, her gaze falling to the baby nestled in her arms, a gentle sadness reflecting in her eyes. “For her.”

I looked down at the tiny, innocent face nestled against her, and my own smile was bittersweet, a mix of sorrow and resolve.

“For her,” I echoed, my voice thick with emotion.

And in that moment, beneath the wing of the Cannibal, amidst the devastation and the horrors of war, I knew we had just taken the first step toward reclaiming Rhaenyra’s soul—and the realm itself.

[call-me-doll-face]

WARNING: Dark bucky barnes, sexual themes, violence, 18+

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so I apologize for no page break. Will be fixed when I have access to my computer ❤️

ME AND THE DEVIL:

I know you do not usually seek out men like him. In fact, someone smart would avoid the likes of him at all costs. Someone smart would find other means of getting what she wants; what she needs. Other alternatives. However most people would not call me smart. Would say I am easy, I am gullible, I am pathetic. However, I guess desperation can change your point of view, because I started thinking something on the wrong side of crazy.

I started thinking he could be my salvation.

Getting his attention was not difficult, unbelievably. Men like him want what they cannot have. Something unexpected, something exciting, lifechanging.

So, what do you give a man that has everything? Sex? That is almost laughable. He could have any women he wanted. They practically worship the ground he walks on.

Money? That thought is even worse. You can tell that he is drowning in it. Has more than any one man should.

Friendship? It is a nice thought, but he would never trust it. Never let you close enough to even try.

No... I gave him a chase. I let him see me in the seedy club that he frequents. Let his eyes skim the skimpy little black dress I wore just for him; then just when he had almost had his fill, I would take it away. Disappear into the crowd.

This little game of ours carried on for longer than I would have liked. It became a dance of sorts, our game of cat and mouse. Until I finally let him catch me.

I finally let him have me; let him control my very being. The act brings me more pleasure than I can handle, this big strong man consuming me body and soul. The power that came with submitting to him....

Slowly, I realized there was more to him than the man everyone hated and feared. There was compassion, empathy, and a heart filled to the brim with love.

That love wrapped around my heart and anchored me. Gave me a sense of safety I hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Over time, I felt bad for what I was doing to him, wanting to find a way to explain it all to him. Find a way to ask him to help me instead of trying to coerce it out of him.... I wanted him willing...

But he found me out before I got the chance.

We stand across from each other, backs pressed against walls and trading accusatory glances.

Bucky is furious, face tense and his jaw clenching. Brows are furrowed over narrowed eyes, making him look fierce, intimidating.

I can tell he wants to say something to me, wants to lash out, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just grits his teeth and snarls at me, which makes him seem even more menacing. A shiver of excitement runs through me at the strength and power of the man before me, curling around my spine and drawing me to him like a moth drawn to a flame.

Any sane person would be terrified, but not me. After all this time I know without a doubt James Buchanan Barnes would never harm me; would bet my life on it.

As I take a step towards him, I notice his back straightened, icy blue eyes throwing up a wall, guarding himself and his emotions from me. Too late, as I’d seen the pain and betrayal there. My heart cracks at it.

I had done that. I had put that look on this untouchable man's face. I’d hurt him, betrayed him, ruined him.

More than anything I want to fix it.

“Bucky... James... Please let me explain.” My voice is a soft plea, brown eyes begging as I take another step towards the man I had come to love.

This impossibly strong and stubborn man who had changed everything.

Broad shoulders slump in defeat at my tone, face downcast and eyes dull. He is closing off from me, but I will not let him. No.

Finally stepping before him, I let my hand cup his face gently. My thumb gently rubs at the corner of his mouth that had turned down slightly. Those eyes squeeze tight at my touch, face leaning into my hand desperately.

“Tell me it was real. Please tell me it was real. You weren't using me.” He begs, voice wavering with emotion and my heart breaks further. Lips trembling, I press my body closer to him, cupping his face and pressing my forehead to his.

“I love you... I love you buck; I love you.”

Lips meet mine desperately, hands gripping my back and pulling me flush to his hard body.

He is devouring me, drinking me in. His tongue licks at the seam of my lips and I instantly grant him access, whimpering when it snakes into my mouth and dances with mine.

“Say it. Please. Please say it.” The words are spoken against my mouth, hand sliding up to grip the nape of my neck firmly, demanding I give in to him. Blue eyes search mine as if trying to see right through me, trying to see into my very soul.

Was I sent to destroy him? Was I some cruel means to an end? Someone to break down his barriers, strip him of his armor and lay him out to dry? Leave him to his enemies to rip apart as they see fit?

Our breathes mingle, so close its hard to tell where one ends, and one begins. He is engulfing my very existence; I’ve never been more willing to drown.

My belly flutters with anxiousness as I will myself to give in, to trust that he will believe and understand me. Closing my eyes briefly I let a soft sigh leave my parted lips; let the tip of my tongue dart out to wet my bottom lip before gathering the courage to face him head on once again.

“I will tell you everything. Every single detail, all you have to do is ask. But right now, you must know that this, this thing between us, is one of the scariest yet realist things I have ever known. I wasn’t supposed to love you. I was never supposed to care for you the way I do now, but God do I.” his chest deflates with a shaky exhale at my words, the waft of air moving the loose strands of hair out of my face. “James- “ reaching up I cup the back of his head, caressing the soft brown hair there. “I want to be with you. I want to stay WITH you. I do not want to run from my problems anymore. I want to burn them to the ground and build a life with you.”

“But?” He mumbles, nuzzling against the side of my face.

“But…- “here we go. This will make or break whatever this is. “But my ex is a bad man.” Bucky’s body tenses at the mention of another man, pulling away to give me his full attention. “He is a bad man, and buck, he has my daughter. He has my daughter, and he wanted your money, and I could not let him hurt her.”

The more I talk the more panicked I feel. Its like word vomit, I cannot stop until I have gotten all of it out. My breathing quickens, chest starts to hurt with the stress of it as tears gather on my lash line, causing buck to become blurry.

“He told me he’d hurt her if I didn’t do exactly as he said. Oh god buck, she is only four years old.” A choked sob escapes from me, my hand reaching up to cover my mouth as a tear breaks free. Bucky just stands there, staring at me in shock as I drone on. “I know he will follow through if I disappoint him. He’s hurt the both of us more times than I can count already. His best friend is a police officer, so nobody had believed me when I’d tried to get help, it had only made things worse. I didn't have a choice.” I am full on crying now, body wracking with sobs as I hold myself, trying to keep myself together.

a variety of different emotions fleet across Bucky’s face before he finally settles on rage. It sets in his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides before shoving past me and out the door, walls slamming with the force of it shutting.

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

I had thought that was that. That he was done with me. I went to the little sketchy hotel room I’d rented in case things went south, curled onto the bed I don’t like to think too much about, and sobbed. I sobbed until exhaustion took hold and drug me under.

Coming to felt even worse. My eyes had crusted shut from all the tears and my head throbbed with a migraine that almost cripples me.

It could have been hours, days for all I knew. I just didn’t care.

Just as I go to roll over in an attempt to go back to sleep the door to the room bursts open and there he is. There he is, covered in blood and practically dragging Gabe in by the back of his shirt.

“Bucky! Are you okay!” I gasp, jumping to my feet and rushing to him, terrified that some of the copious mounts of blood could be his.

Grunting he lets Gabe fall to the ground unceremoniously before engulfing me in a bone crushing hug. “I’m all right doll. Had some business I needed to take care of. I’m all right.”

I cling to him, letting the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder wash over me and calm my nerves. “I thought you were gone. That you’d left me.” My bottom lip wobbles, and he pulls back, cupping my jaw gently with his metal hand, thumb running over my lip to soothe it.

“I’m never leaving you, doll. I’m yours just as much as you are mine. But I will not have you without her.” It takes my mind a moment to process his words, but when it does my heart soars, eyes watering for a completely different reason than earlier.

“She- she’s here?”

“She is.” He quickly grabs my shoulders to prevent me from rushing past him and out the door, stops me from going to her. As if sensing the words of protest bubbling up, he gives me a stern look and I swallow them down with a frown. “First, business.” He indicates what said business is with a sharp kick to Gabe’s side, pulling a grunt from the other man.

“Y-you stupid whore. Couldn’t even do one damn thing right.” Gabe snarls with labored breath, drawing up onto his hands and knees with a pained groan. Blonde hair that is usually kept impeccable falls over his bruised and battered face in a greasy mess. Green eyes, red from busted blood vessels shoot up to glare at me.

Bucky remains quiet, yet I can feel his silent rage filling the room and choking us. I wait for the eruption, the blow up I know will come, but to my surprise he just clasps his hands together and moves to stand slightly behind me.

It dawns on me that this powerful man that everyone fears is giving me, little old nobody me, the lead. He’s letting me decide what happens to the man that tormented me and my daughter for years. Bucky is letting me take justice into my own hands.

When I turn uncertain eyes on him, he gives me the slightest dip of his chin, eyes shining with encouragement. “Burn them to the ground, then build a life.” They’re the softest words he’s ever spoken to me, and they give me all the confidence I need.

A humored laugh is heard from behind me as I straighten my spine and turn to face the pathetic excuse of a man that’s now on his knees before me. The blood in my veins sings with the satisfaction of him kneeling there. His rightful place; below me.

“You think that just because you fucked James Buchanan Barnes that suddenly you’re not the same little pathetic girl from a nowhere town in Ohio? Think again princess.” He sneers, spitting blood at my feet before turning hateful eyes back up at me. “Both you and that stupid little daughter of yours are useless. Hell, you weren’t even adequate enough to stick a dick in. what are you going to do to me, huh? Cry in my face, drown me in your tears?”

I let every word from his mouth soak in. let every hateful thing he’d done to me, made me feel, seep into every pore, and consume me. My own rage, mixed with Bucky’s, builds to an almost cataclysmic point, while all I feel is a calmness wash over me. My mind and heart go quiet as I just stare at him with empty eyes, not saying a word as he slowly starts losing his confidence, starts to squirm.

“You have absolutely no idea how much of a pleasure it is for me to see you on your knees, covered in blood and squirming like a rat caught in a trap.” My voice comes out even, smooth, and he instantly has a sneer back on his face at the words. Before he gets the chance to open his mouth and spew more bullshit, I turn on my heel to slightly face bucky. “You know, you were right about one thing, I’ll give you that... I’m most definitely not the same little girl from Ohio. What you WERE wrong about however is that it’s not because I fucked bucky, oh no, that honor goes to you.” Giving bucky a sweet smile, he watches in amusement, brow cocked as I lift the left side of his shirt and steal the lightweight combat blade he keeps hidden there.

Twirling it between my fingers I twist back and let Gabe see it, let him take a minute to sweat it as I take slow steps towards him.

“For years you made my life a living hell. You trapped me, moved me to a place where I had nothing; no one. You controlled everything. Who I socialized with, the money, hell it was you who made me get pregnant. Now that- “coming to a stop in front of him, I run the tip of my blade down his cheek, relishing in the flinch he gives at the first touch of metal against sensitive skin. “That was your first mistake.” A sharp cry tears from him as I clench my teeth and dig the edge of the blade in just under his eye, dragging it all the way down his cheek to his jaw in a bloody line.

“You fucking bitch- FUCK!” he shouts out, going to move away from me but bucky is instantly there, holding him in place with a harsh hold on his shoulders. The pure arousal in his eyes takes my breath away and I feel the excitement at pleasing him all the way down between my thighs. I never realized how exhilarating this could be. Setting my sights back on the man before me I let a crazed grin slide free.

“Do you want to know where you fucked up? You gave me someone to love more than you. You gave me someone I cared about more than myself. You tore me down to a point that I didn’t care what you did to me, but when you gave me that little girl? When you hurt, that little girl? Well, that was the beginning of the end for you.” Flipping the knife in my hand so that the hilt is up I slam down as hard as I can, feeling it slice through the bone like butter as it makes a home in his shoulder right by where Bucky’s hand rests.

Bucky seems just as surprised as Gabe, staring at the blade with wide eyed disbelief before his teeth flash in a wicked smile, laughing incredulously. Gabe screams, wiggles in agony, trying to escape the pain. With a giggle that I should be appalled by, I yank it out, blinking the warm blood splatters out of my eyes. My tongue flicks to the side of my mouth by its own accord and the tangy copper flavor fills my mouth. The sound of his pain is music to my ears, the raw pride that bucky exudes makes my clit throb.

“You’re going to pay for what you did. There will be so much more pain, this is only a small taste of what’s to come.” I can’t handle this anymore, my body shaking with so much pent-up energy that I feel as if I’ll combust. “But later.” When my brown eyes meet icy blue ones, my lips pull between my teeth, and those eyes flick to them, locking on to the movement.

Bucky, ever observant, seems to know what I need before even I do. Pulling rope from the back pocket of his tight fitted jeans he quickly ties Gabe’s wrists and ankles so that he can’t escape. Dark eyes move back up to me once he’s done, body appearing larger as he rounds Gabe, chest puffing out as he stalks me.

“What was your second mistake? So glad you asked, I’ll tell you.” placing my palm against his broad and sturdy chest, I halt bucky. His chest falls in even controlled breathes as he searches my face, trying to decipher what I want. When my eyes flick to the floor before me, right where Gabe had just been, he gives me a knowing smirk before he drops to one knee, then the other. Now, seeing him before me is a completely different type of excitement, but just as thrilling.

“You put this man in my path. A man you knew was dangerous. Could destroy you. Oh, but you never thought I'd confide in him. Tell him the truth…. Fall in love with him. No, you underestimated me.” Thick fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, gently tugging them down my legs along with my panties. He lets out a deep groan at the wetness already visible on my thighs, inhales deeply, and takes in the smell of my arousal. Gripping under my knee, he hooks my leg over his shoulder and dives in like a starved man.

My head falls back at the first broad stripe up my center, a whimper as that skilled tongue flicks and curls around my bundle of nerves. The man is pure sin, knowing what I desire like the devil himself. His metal hand grips my hip, grounding me as he feasts on me, tongue spearing into me, drinking from me with obscene slurping noises. It doesn’t take long before I’m ready to crumble for him, the knot in my belly tightening and a warmth spreading over my entire body.

Looking to the man on the floor, seeing how red-faced and humiliated he looks, sends me ever closer to my climax, and I can't help but torment him even more. Cruelty has never been my nature, but I'm relishing in what it does to him. "He's so good, Gabe. So much better than you ever were." Bucky groans at my words, sending vibrations through my whole body. I gasp loudly, brows knitting at the feeling as my fingers bury in his soft locks. "How does it feel, watching someone so powerful worship the person you thought was nothing?"

"You stupid -"

Sliding his flesh hand between my legs, Bucky easily slips two fingers into me, instantly curling them and expertly finding that special spot inside me, and I’m a goner.

His name falls from my lips like a prayer, back arching as my orgasm crashes through me in waves. I can feel his eyes on me, watching me as he sucks my clit into his mouth and pumps his fingers faster, working to prolong my pleasure as long as he can.

When I finally come down, I push him away from me with a gentle hand on his head. Locking eyes with Gabe I let the delight show on my face. Gloating in the way bucky played my body like a fiddle. “It’ll be the last time you ever underestimate me."

Wrapping a firm hand around buckys throat i guide him backward until he’s on his back. He lets me control him and lifts his hips to help aid me in pulling his jeans down just under his ass. My mouth waters as his cock springs free, laying flushed and leaking against his belly. Usually, I would worship him. Let my tongue slide down his delicious happy trail to the base before licking all the way up his shaft to the tip. Usually. Not now.

Bucky watches with hooded eyes and teeth dug into his plump bottom lip as I climb over him. Fingers dig into the flesh of my hips as he leans up slightly to watch where we meet. I watch as those brows scrunch in concentration, and his jaw goes slack as I position myself and slowly slide down onto him. I take him all the way to the hilt in one slide, wincing at the burn of it, of him. He’s so big. It never matters how much he preps me. It’s always a stretch to fit him.

He looks at me desperately as I try to give myself time to adjust. I feel the muscles in his hips bunching, struggling not to thrust up into me, the thick muscles flinching under me. Taking pity on him, I lay my hands flat on his chest before raising myself up and dropping all the way down. The noises he makes as I start to ride him in earnest are sinful, feeling so good all his barriers are down, all his pleasure on full display.

He lets me take him apart right there in front of another man. Willingly submits to me, whines when I take him to the very edge then denies him his pleasure. “Please, please doll fuck. So fucking close, please stop teasing me. Come one baby, ride that cock, let me fill that pretty pussy up, please baby doll I’ll do anything you want.” He whines and pleads. Pulling him into a sitting position I cradle his head against my chest as I bounce, feeling my climax coming once again as his cock slides against my walls, rubbing every spot flawlessly.

Meeting Gabe eyes once again over bucks’ shoulder, I give him a triumphant smirk as I rest my chin on the top of Buckys head. “Cum for me baby. Be a good boy and fill that pussy up.” As soon as the words leave my mouth he’s cursing, shouting my name and his hips jerk erratically, shooting ropes of hot cum into me and coating my walls. The feeling of his cum in me sends me over the edge right after him, and the clenching of my walls around him coaxes another orgasm from him as well, our cries and shouts echoing around the room.

Gabe finally breaks, pathetic sobs and pleads leaving him as he presses his face into the old carpet.

Ignoring the pest in the room, We take a minute to bask in each other, pressing soft kisses to any part of skin we can reach, trading soft works to one another. Once our heart rates have calmed down, he gives me one more chaste kiss. “Ready to go see our little girl?”

[embracing-the-ineffable]

Good Omens, staying skeptical, and the mystery and the lie at the heart of Gravity Falls

-Neil Gaiman, 29 June 2023

I recently came across this post by @apathetic-revenant, which goes into extensive detail about a whole secret meta lie generated by Alex Hirsch, creator and head writer of Gravity Falls, midway through the show.

It went like this: the show was very focused on mysteries, codes, ciphers, etc, and early on a character discovered a mysterious journal with an unknown author, and this drove the plot. There were clues placed in the show so that people could solve the journal author's identity, or more probably so that it would all make sense in hindsight after the big reveal. However, the show ended up with a larger-than-expected fandom who started organizing online in a way the creators hadn't expected or planned for, and they were worried everyone would collectively solve the mystery too easily, too soon, and the suspense and appeal of the story gradually unfolding would be lost.

So they took a fake BTS photo that appeared to reveal the journal's author and "leaked" it online. To give it credibility, the show's creator posted "Fuming right now" and then deleted the post soon after, once they were certain it had been seen and screenshots taken. The Gravity Falls fandom then stopped trying to solve the mystery, as they believed the answer had already been revealed. It was a solution "targeted toward delaying that group problem-solving, without actually affecting the experience of any individual person watching the show."

Ok, Good Omens fandom. Are we Gravity Falls all over again? Are we also experiencing meta lies?

Is it possible that Amazon's marketing department has just released a new promotional video about Aziraphale & Crowley's "timeline of interconnectedness" (discussions here and here ) where they honestly:

got several of those timeline dates wrong, including labeling the entirety of seasons 1 and 2 as belonging to the same year?

mixed all the season 1 and 2 clips together so they're completely interconnected and out of the order they were presented to us so far?

didn't consult with Neil Gaiman for even a moment to be sure they had their facts straight? (Or literally anyone else who's spent years working on it? Or even someone who has just watched it once while paying attention?)

didn't understand the way most series tell a story by moving through time in a realistic linear fashion?

When Neil said today that "time is fine" in response to questions about the timeline of interconnectedness video, was he trying to misdirect the fandom away from the mystery that's clearly hidden throughout both seasons (and especially season 2)?

The Good Place seems suddenly more relevant than I'd imagined:

Neil has told us that his Tumblr posts aren't canon. He's also said:

"Never trust the storyteller. Only trust the story."

"Writers are liars, my dear, surely you know that by now? And yet, things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes, and forgot." -Both quotes are from The Sandman [link]

So here's my plea to whichever part of the fandom might read this: Stay Skeptical. It's wonderful to talk to Neil about his characters, the worlds he's created, his writing process, his views on world events, his sense of humor, his kindness, his compassion and empathy, and his good advice & encouragement for the entire range of the human experience. I respect him very much, and I'm thrilled he's here on social media talking to all of us. (Except he doesn't have social media, obviously. He's like Schrödinger's Social Media Neil-cat.)

I'm looking forward to all the surprises I'm certain are in store for us (and Aziraphale and Crowley) in Good Omens season 3. I trust Neil (and Terry!) to deliver our beloved characters to a very satisfying ending. But I don't trust Neil to honestly answer all of our questions on social media - and neither should you.

Especially not when he's already blamed obvious season 2 changes to the Bentley on the "lighting" (as just one example).

With lots of thanks to the members of the @ineffable-detective-agency - including @bbbitchvibbbez, @kimberleyjean, @maufungi, @noneorother, @theastrophysicistnextdoor, and @thebluestgreen for all their excellent fact-checking, ideas, and discussions!

Interested in diving further into all the Good Omens mysteries? I have more posts plus Clues and metas from all over the fandom, here.

[mxmarsbars]

impulse is no stranger to begging.

pathetic as it is, he’s found himself begging far too many times throughout the many seasons of the life series. every game, without fail, he’s had to scream and cry and beg for things no person should have to beg for.

he’s begged for his life. he’s sobbed and ached and pleaded for peace and pause and patience, for violence to cease and for reason to prevail. he’s cried far too many tears and screamed far too many pleas just for the right to exist, to be heard and seen and cared about.

he’s begged for death. to be put out of his misery, to have it all be over and done with, to take the coward’s way out. he’s tried to convince people to just do it, kill him, take his time, his hearts, his life. it doesn’t matter if he’ll come back afterwards, if it’s his first life or his last. he’s broken down and fallen to his knees, he’s taunted others and egged them on. he’s wanted release, and he’s gotten it. he knows it’ll happen again, whether he asks for it or not. that’s just how death works.

he’s begged for love. to have somebody look at him and see something beautiful, something special, something worth loving back. he’s done the stupidest things to ensure his relationships, things no rational person would find normal and okay. but these games have proven that sometimes impulse isn’t the most sane. sometimes he’s willing to play into other peoples’ sick needs, so long as it means they’ll stay, that they’ll love him. he can spare a clock and swallow the disgust that comes with hearing each agonizing tick.

he’s begged for closure. for apologies, for sympathy, for just some semblance of regret or remorse, maybe even guilt. he’s tried being patient and understanding. he’s tried so, so hard. but there’s only so much dismissal and immaturity and outright victim blaming he can take before it’s just too much. before murder and vengeance and ugly, disgusting things sound much more appealing than making amends. he’s put up with so much, taken so much shit and dealt with so much absurdity and abuse. he’s long since earned some revenge.

he’s begged for second chances. impulse isn’t perfect, not at all, but he can’t even begin to stomach the thought of being like the people who’ve hurt him. impulse isn’t a monster, and he has to prove that. anything he can do to better himself, he’ll do it. he’d work himself to death if it meant clearing his name, clearing the heads of the people he’s hurt, giving them the closure he himself fought so hard to get. he refuses to go down a villain. that’s not who he is, he swears.

he’s begged for peace. even when arrows are flying and blood is shedding, he still finds it in himself to try and put an end to the violence. impulse isn’t a fighter, not in any way that counts in games like these. at his core, impulse is made of love, love that he wants to give and share. and so he begs for the chance to love instead of hate, to talk instead of fight, for peace instead of everything else the life series stands for. it’s a futile effort. he begs anyways.

he’s begged to win. impulse, at his core, is also competitive. he’s gotten so close so many times, had the crown just out of reach, ripped away from him. it’s like some sick joke, like the universe finds pleasure in seeing him crumble and shatter, having everything taken from him. he’s tired of being a stepping stone, tired of being a means to an end. always an angel, never a god. impulse wants to be god. he prays he will one day.

he’s begged to be a person. he’s begged for basic human decency. he’s begged for things nobody should ever have to even ask for. no person should have to plead to be seen as human, as someone worthy of love and care. he deserves patience and compassion and gentle hands to hold him when he falls apart. he deserves the same care he gives others. he deserves to be happy.

impulse can’t help but feel dumb, asking for such stupid things. he feels like an idiot for crying over the injustices he’s faced and the times he’s been denied, when his pleading has been refused or ignored.

he knows it’s annoying, repetitive, pathetic. but he won’t stop. it’s the fault of his affirmation, his blessing and his curse: his persistence. impulse won’t stop until his prayers are answered, until he gets what he wants.

impulse doesn’t want to beg anymore.

please, please, please. let him get what he wants.

[zablife]

Tachipen (Part 5)

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a young gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he takes pity on her and employs her as a nanny for John’s children instead. The arrangement soon sours when Tommy believes his horse has been cursed and demands her help stealing from the Lees. When she seeks solace in John’s company, an innocent romance blossoms, but a war with the Lees and Polly’s poorly-timed advice drive them apart in a way that will change their history forever. As the scenes from the present reveal, Y/n must watch the Shelby men go on to love others while she is shut out. However, the events of one tragic afternoon could change everything.

Author’s Note: After a 5 month hiatus, this story is back! I'll be updating more regularly now that I've outlined more of the fic. The story is told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925. 

Warnings: language, ethnic slur, implied smut, mention of pregnancy, mention of arranged marriage

Part 4

1924

The frosted glass shook as Polly forcefully closed John’s office door, her eyes darting from you to her nephew. “What is this I hear about the two of you sniping at one another like bloody children?”

You and John both started speaking at once and Polly shouted over you to assert authority. “That’s enough! John, perhaps you could explain why you’re even in the office today?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Y/n is perfectly capable of supervising the other girls.”

John opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock, giving the appearance of a fish out of water before you interjected. “He’s been hovering over me for weeks, Pol. Won’t let me finish one fucking job without trying to find a mistake!”

John pointed a finger in your direction as he retorted, “If she could keep her mind on her work instead of her love life for a change--”

“Would you stop?!" you screamed, interrupting him mid-sentence. You felt the emotion welling in your chest and did your best to keep from crying. Running a shaky hand through your hair, you took a deep breath to regain control before continuing your plea to Polly. "I did as I was told. I broke up with Angel and I apologized…” you stopped before you broke down, then continued with the part that stung most, “for the inconvenience.” Those had been the words Arthur insisted you use. He’d probably consulted Linda about it at the first sign of trouble, you thought bitterly. 

Polly softened at your show of emotion, reaching across the table for your hand. “Alright, I think I understand. John, would you leave us, please?” John nodded with clenched jaw, pushing out of his chair with more force than necessary. He looked back at you as he crossed to the door and you swore you saw a brief shadow of remorse cross his handsome features though you couldn’t be sure with the lingering tension between you.

When you were finally alone, Polly began, “Y/n, I’m sorry about this. I know you’re upset about the Changretta boy and I don’t blame you, but what’s done is done. And you must understand that John is under a lot of stress at home. I’m not sure if you know this, but there's another little one on the way,” she said hesitantly.

“Again?” you nearly shrieked. It was the third time in the nearly four years he'd been married. 

Polly nodded slowly. “You see why he’s so on edge lately?”

You swallowed thickly, thinking of how chaotic the household must be with six children, soon to be seven. Although you attempted a shred of compassion for his new wife, you couldn’t manage it. “Yes, I understand,” you said in a quiet monotone. “He has a lot of people depending on him.” It was what Polly wanted to hear so you spoke the words, turning your head away so she couldn’t read your expression.

“Exactly. I know it doesn’t excuse his behavior here, but we all have to learn to get along,” she advised, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before leaving you alone in the room. A bitter laugh escaped your throat at the thought of any of you living peacefully after all you’d inflicted upon one another. 

—————————————————-

1919

As the first rays of dawn broke, you sat up in bed, face aching from the bruise across your cheek and your mind reeling from the events of the previous day. If Tommy hadn’t trusted you before, there was no hope for you now with so much cash missing from the betting shop, especially when he learned the Lees were to blame. How could he not think you were involved?

Panic setting into your bones, you decided to make a hasty retreat from Polly’s house while you still could. Despite the throbbing in your wrist, you slipped your dress over your head and silently turned the bedroom doorknob, giving the hallway a quick glance for occupants. With no signs of activity, you slipped quietly down the steps and right to the front door, knowing this would be the most difficult part of your escape. The rusty hinges creaked loudly and you cringed at the noise, well aware of how it carried throughout the house. Rightfully so as Tommy’s voice beckoned to you at the sound. “Where are you off to so early?” his husky voice called out.

You spun around to face him, heart pounding in your chest as you waited for his wrath to rain down upon you. You calculated the distance to the street, wondering if you might still be able to outrun him, when he suddenly closed the distance between you, shutting the door with a gentle push. 

As he stared into your eyes, he spoke again in a much softer voice. “I misjudged you."

You held your breath realizing how close he stood, the heat radiating off his body into yours. Transfixed by the intensity of his bright, blue eyes, you couldn’t help but stare back at him. The anxious flutter you felt in your stomach intensified as you waited to hear what he thought he knew about you.

“What you did for Ada last night was…” he looked away for a moment as he tried to find the words to express the gratitude he felt upon hearing of Ada’s difficult labor and delivery. “Well, my sister and nephew are alive because of you. You could have gone with the Lees, but you stayed here,” he said, emphasizing the last part. You realized he was recognizing the loyalty in your decision, though for you it had been a matter of common decency.

“Thank you,” he added hesitantly and you could tell from the way he said it, he didn’t make a habit of ingratiating himself to others.

“I only did what I thought was right,” you said, averting your eyes to the floorboards.

One look at your tense posture and Tommy took a step back to give you air. He gestured toward the table as he asked, “Will you sit with me?” You nodded slowly, crossing to join him at the kitchen table. Tommy took a seat and lit a cigarette, leaning back and tilting his head as he searched the ceiling through the rings of smoke. Then the words tumbled forth, breaking the awkward silence unexpectedly. 

“About that night in the stable… I brought you here to look after my family and I had to know I could trust you. Charlie thought you might have put a spell on the horse and for a moment I believed him.” Sitting up and looking you in the eye he added, “But when I asked you for the truth, I could tell by your reaction that it wasn’t your doing.”

Your eyes grew wide at his confession. You hadn’t expected him to speak of it ever again and the thought of him bringing it up now made you shudder. With a dismissive air and bitter tone you pushed it away saying, “M used to it. No one trusts gypsies.” You hugged your arms around your body to still your trembling limbs, hoping Tommy would’t recognize weakness in you.  

“It’s not right though,” he said looking you in the eye. “I should never have…”

“No, you shouldn’t, you bastard” you interjected, jaw firmly set at the mention of his cruel treatment. 

Tommy sucked his teeth as he flicked ash into a mug, giving your jab a moment to wash over him before responding. “I suppose I deserve that, but I want to make amends. Can we start fresh?” Tommy asked, blue eyes searching yours intently.

“Yes, I think so,” you agreed reluctantly, unsure how this turn of events had happened.

“Good,” he said with a nod. “Because I’d like to invite you to have a seat at the next family meeting.”

Your head was still swimming with Tommy’s apology so you weren’t quite sure you heard correctly. “What? When?” you sputtered.

“Today, we have to go on the offensive now that the Lees have struck a blow and you’re our best hope of understanding their way of thinking,” Tommy explained. 

You touched the bruise on the right side of your face that was turning to a dark shade of purple, thinking of how your sister was one of them by now. What would your scheming do to her, you wondered?

While you were lost in thought, Tommy leaned forward to examine your swollen wrist and you cried out at his touch. He lifted your hand and moved it carefully to see if there were any broken bones, a skill he’d learned during the war while attending to his men. Nodding thoughtfully he replied, “You’ve got a sprain. You should let me wrap it.” 

“Alright,” you agreed, watching as Tommy fetched a bandage and efficiently went about his work, a fresh cigarette hanging from his lower lip. His touch was surprisingly gentle and your mind wandered to the times you’d watched him with the horses. You recalled how they’d responded to him without the use of a whip, only the sound of his voice over the noise of the scrap metal yard. You couldn’t deny that there was something about his presence in this moment that you found calming.

The roughness of his voice cut the silence as he spoke for the first time since he began tending to you. “I’ll be off to John’s now,” he said with a nod as he stamped out his smoke and before you could ask anything more he was gone, leaving you in quiet contemplation of your new role within the family and everything you thought you knew about Tommy.

————————————-

“Open up!” A voice bellowed out before John’s front door swung open, footsteps falling hard and fast on the stairs leading to the bedroom.

John sat up quickly, pulling the duvet over his naked body before reaching for his revolver on the nightstand. Tommy burst in with John cursing, “Fuck, Tommy! When will you learn to knock?” 

“When will you learn to lock your bloody door? The Lees could still be in town for all we know,” Tommy scolded.

As the brothers argued, the woman beside John began to stir at the sound of their shouting. As she rolled over to face John, Tommy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he caught sight of the woman’s familiar dark curls. John covered her quickly though he knew Tommy had already spied his secretary.

John tossed his gun onto the bedside table as he waved his brother off. “Alright, that’s enough! Get out!”

“Fine, but get dressed quickly. There’s business to discuss,” Tommy said, turning to leave. Then hesitating for a moment he called over his shoulder, “Lizzie, I want you at work by nine!”

She inhaled a sharp breath beneath the covers, embarrassed at being caught in bed with the boss’s younger brother. She’d gone to the Garrison to celebrate the new baby with everyone else from the office, but it was Tommy she’d been after. John just happened to be the brother who stumbled into the snug first.

After donning her dress and shoes, Lizzie leaned over with a warm smile and gave John a tender goodbye kiss. His head pounding from the hangover, he gave her only a sliver of affection in return, the reality of what he’d done hitting him full force. When he closed his eyes the only person he could see was you.

“I’ll be going, but I’d like to do this again. You never call me anymore,” she said biting her lip. Pulling back to study him she noticed John’s baby blue eyes didn’t dance with light as they had the night before.

“Listen, Lizzie…” he began, but Tommy interrupted, calling to him from downstairs. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” he said and she nodded cheerfully before pulling on her heels and clicking down the hall.

By the time John joined Tommy in the kitchen, Tommy was pacing like a wild animal. “Where the fuck were you yesterday, eh?” he asked, pointing a finger at his brother. 

John rubbed a hand over his face and shook his head slightly. He couldn’t think clearly. What had happened? Before he had time to reply, Tommy was stalking toward him angrily. “The betting shop was robbed by the Lees. Y/n and Ada could have been killed because you left your post, John!”

“Oh, fuck off, Tommy!” John replied. “This is not my fault! How was I meant to do collections for Arthur and run the shop? Scudboat was there anyhow,” he asserted, pulling his suspenders up with an annoyed roll of his neck.

“Except he wasn’t. He went to Charlie’s yard for the arrival of the new shipment which is why you were supposed to have been back by four!” Tommy said, slamming the kitchen table with his palm for emphasis. Running a hand through his hair he shook his head muttering, “You never fucking listen.”

John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, another vision of you suddenly dancing across his eyelids. He’d noticed a deep red mark on your cheek and how you winced when Ada put too much pressure on your hand, but you’d both been so consumed with Ada’s labor. You’d been steadfast delivering the baby, but that was how you were when you were scared, carrying on despite the fear. John’s head shot up as he asked, “Y/n? How is she?”

Tommy let out a heavy sigh as he realized he was finally getting through to his brother, plopping down in a chair he replied, “She has some bruises and a sprained wrist. She was lucky this time, brother, but the danger will increase. The Lees know she gave us information about their operation. They took their money, but now they want blood,” Tommy said ominously. 

John nodded in understanding. He wouldn’t let his concentration lapse again. You were too important and he was determined to do everything in his power to protect you this time. He only needed to bring you home.

———————————————-

The family assembled in the betting shop without noticing you hovering in the corner, feeling woefully out of place. Polly and Arthur were already seated, talking quietly as Polly smoked her clove cigarettes. Lizzie sat with pencil and paper in hand to take notes if necessary, but she didn’t appear nearly as concerned as the others. In fact, she was positively radiant, as though she couldn't stop smiling. You wondered what she had to be so cheerful about, when Isaiah appeared in the doorway, remarking to her, “Looks as though someone had a good night.”

“You know, John,” Lizzie replied with a giggle. Your heart stopped as you watched her bite her lip seductively, wondering what she meant by that. 

Moving to the kitchen to help yourself to a cup of tea, Isaiah sauntered in behind you, clearing his throat to announce his presence. “Why didn’t you come to the Garrison last night?” he asked, leaning against the cupboards with a casual charm he directed at most ladies.

“I was tired. Delivering a baby will do that,” you replied with a smile.

“Of course. John said you were brilliant,” Isaiah complimented you as he removed his cap and smoothed his hair.

“Isaiah, was Lizzie with you and John last night?” you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

A wide grin spread across Isaiah’s face as he accepted the mug of tea you offered exclaiming, “Yeah, for a bit. Then they told me to piss off. I mean, you know how they are.”

“N-no, I don’t,” you stuttered, hands beginning to tremble around your cup.

“Those two can’t keep their hands off each other! It’s been that way since the war ended. John used to blind her other customers just so he could see her more often,” he said with a laugh. When Isaiah observed your blank expression he continued saying, “You know what Lizzie used to do, don’t you?” 

Shaking your head, you felt your stomach drop and your mouth go dry as he explained their arrangement. Apparently John had been paying her for sex for years. The words stabbed into you as you held yourself up against the cupboards, willing your face not to betray your tender heart in front of a blinder. 

But the terrible feeling of betrayal was overwhelming as you remembered Katie’s words about her father and his whores. You thought John had feelings for you, but clearly you’d been wrong. The pit in your stomach grew as you relived the kiss you shared the night before outside Polly’s house. He must have sensed your hesitation and gone back to someone more experienced and familiar. You felt another twist of the knife as you wondered if he ever wanted you. His brother had forced him to take you in after all and suddenly you felt terribly foolish. Worried your legs might give out at any moment, you excused yourself to take a seat at the table.

The pain only worsened as Lizzie turned to address you with an air of worldly sophistication. “Y/n, it was kind of you to leave John and me last night. One day you’ll see how important it is that a man and a woman have their privacy. I know John appreciates it,” she said with a wink and a knowing smile. As heat seeped into your cheeks with the overwhelming feeling of humiliation, it was almost more than you could bare. Did everyone know John saw you as a child who wasn’t worthy of his attention?

Soon Tommy and John arrived, taking their seats at the table and you found yourself shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you tried to avoid John’s gaze.

As Tommy called the meeting to order you noticed all eyes on you, making you painfully aware that as a non blood relative nor a blinder, you shouldn’t be there. Tommy quickly put everyone’s fears to rest, making it known that he had asked you to be his adviser and no one dared go against Tommy. 

The meeting progressed quickly after that with John proposing an all out war against the Lees. He wanted to see them all cut to ribbons and you could tell by the dangerous gleam in his eye he was more than capable. Lizzie gave him a nod of approval from across the table and your blood boiled at the thought of them discussing strategy together, plotting and scheming as they lay tangled between the sheets. You were past the point of tears by now, coiling your hands into fists below the table.

While no one else came forward with a different thought right away, Arthur quickly agreed to John’s plan. Not one for ideas himself, he went along with the quickest method of handling enemies. 

However, Polly was next to speak and interjected reason before the men could become too blood hungry. “This all began because of greed, Thomas. If we propose to share our contacts with Erasmus and thus the earnings, it might convince them to stop trying to kill us.” You could see Polly favored peace above all else, but you knew Tommy would never settle for half his take. 

Then the idea came to you, born of resentment and retaliation, but an age old solution that would work nonetheless. You knew how to achieve peace if only you could convince your aunt and Tommy.

“There’s another way, but it requires discussion with an elder, my aunt, Zilpha,” you proposed, glancing up at Tommy.

“She’ll see me after everything that’s happened?” Tommy asked, a note of skepticism in his voice.

“No, but she’ll see me,” you promised him. You could see the wheels in his mind turning as he pondered what you might say to your aunt. If he truly trusted you, he would agree to let you speak on their behalf, however. 

With a small nod he agreed. “Alright, I’ll take you tomorrow,” Tommy said. “You’d better get some rest.” And with that, he left everyone in stunned silence, their fate in your hands.

As everyone filed out of the room, John remained, leaning on a desk. When you attempted to walk past, he stopped you, reaching out to capture your arm. “Y/n, wait,” he called out.

Your eyebrows shot up at his request, unsure why he hadn’t dashed out after Lizzie. It seemed her company was what he craved now so why was he here waiting for you? “What is it, John?” you asked, voice tinged with irritation. 

“I wanted to see how you are,” he said, looking you over with what appeared to be genuine concern. His opposite hand traced the bandage that covered your wrist, eyes trained on your injury as though he felt the pain concealed beneath it. 

“I’m fine,” you said, attempting to break away, but John held you to him.

Reaching up to caress your bruised cheek he spoke earnestly, “Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I should have been at the shop. If I had been, none of this would have happened.”

“Well you can’t change it now,” you replied, locking eyes with him, wanting to scream at him about Lizzie, but knowing it wouldn’t help.

“Let me at least try to make it up to you,” John pleaded, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “Come home,” he suggested in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him.

“Why?” you asked, snatching your hand away.

The biting tone had obviously hurt John, a wounded look crossing his face immediately as he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. “Because…because the children and I need you,” he reasoned, furrowing his brow. He’d never been good with words, but he hoped you would hear how much he cared for you with that simple phrase.

The words pricked the hairs at the back of your neck, confirming what you already suspected. There was no love there, only a life of convenience. Biting your cheek to keep from crying, you sucked in a quick breath before replying, “I’m sorry, John, but I’m needed elsewhere at the moment.” You turned on your heel and disappeared into the house.

—————————————-

You spent another night at Polly’s, too upset to return to John’s. When you closed the bedroom door before having your dinner, Tommy urged the others not to pry into the cause of  your sudden mood change. He explained there was a long drive ahead of you in the morning and reasoned you must be anxious at the thought of returning to a camp full of angry relatives.

As you drove to the Lee camp in comfortable silence, you were relieved that Tommy wasn’t the curious sort. However, you knew he deserved to hear what you intended on proposing to your aunt so you began explaining your plan for ushering in peace between the two families. While you expected him to question it a bit more, he only chain smoked as he kept his eyes trained on the road. When you’d finished, you swore you heard a low hum of approval emanate from his pursed lips, though you weren’t entirely sure from his stoic expression.

There was no time for doubt in any case as the car jerked to a halt. You exited your side cautiously, eyes scanning the horizon to find men with rifles stood at attention above you. “Slowly now,” Tommy advised as he stooped to gather a stick and dug into his pocket for a white handkerchief to tie at the top. As he walked up the dirt road toward the vardos circled on the ridge, he waved the makeshift flag. You allowed him to lead until he leaned toward you to whisper, “You’re sure you still want to do this? What of your future, eh?” It was the first he had mentioned you in any of the plans and you swallowed harshly at his insinuation that your fate mattered either way.

“Let me worry about that,” you replied stubbornly, marching ahead. Tommy wanted to laugh at your determination, but thought better of it considering the circumstances. He shook his head as he followed after you, admiration for your courage swelling in his throat. 

Zilpha greeted you with a wary expression upon your approach, face as dark and stormy as the clouds overhead threatening rain. Standing at the doorway of her vardo, she refused to descend until you had both been searched for weapons. Although you understood her hesitation, it stung to be treated as a traitor when you still held love for your family. 

When she was satisfied you weren’t there to harm her, she allowed you to ascend the steps and you breathed a sigh of relief when she extended a wrinkled hand to you, pulling you inside.

Despite having convinced her of your own good intentions, Tommy was made to wait outside. You could tell from her knitted brow, he would never gain her full approval and you knew you would have to work hard to sell his good points. 

After the preamble of commenting on your thin frame and offering up a hearty stew, Zilpha asked why you had come and you wasted no time with your appeal. 

“He’s a smart man, aunt. But he needs strong men,” you explained.

“For what?” she asked harshly, turning to face you with such force, her jewelry crashed together creating a tinny clinking that echoed out like a warning.

“Protection for his growing business. They get the winner in one of every three races before the race even starts. No need for chalks or rafflers. It’s a certainty,” you promised her, believing in Tommy’s operations so that she would have faith as well. 

“It sounds like this Shelby man’s got his hooks in ya,” she said, eyeing you suspiciously.

You bristled at her assumptions, holding your head high. “No Shelby has me, aunt. In fact, I have a unique proposal for you to end the war between you and them.”

“And what might that be?” she said, leaning forward elbows on her knees to hear you better.

“Rumors say Erasmus’s cousin Esme has been running wild. If I could promise a good husband for her, would you give Tommy soldiers? If you do, this alliance will make you a rich woman,” you promised.

Zilpha thought for a moment, recalling the trouble she’d had finding a suitable groom to take on the headstrong young woman.

“And what man do you suggest?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at you.

“Tommy’s younger brother, John Shelby,” you said, hoping she didn’t notice the way your voice wavered as you said his name. She hadn’t, too preoccupied by your talk of fortune. Without hesitation, she extended a hand in agreement.  

As you both emerged, Tommy searched your face for a sign that the negotiations had been a success. You gave him a small nod and he turned to Zilpha. “He’ll do then?” Tommy asked.

“Bring him round in a fortnight and it will be done,” Zilpha proclaimed. 

The drive back to Small Heath was cloaked in thick silence as you looked out the passenger window. Exhaustion from the long day was beginning to take hold of you, but something wouldn’t let you give in to the need for rest. Although you hoped your plan of revenge might heal your broken heart, the ache only grew stronger. You didn’t yet know it, but regret would soon take hold and there would be nothing you could do to reverse it. 

——————————————

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[sushiwrote]

݃　⠀🈳 𓃉⠀⠀．. ★ 𝙳𝙴𝚂𝙸𝚁𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚃𝙰𝙸𝚂 𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂𝙻𝙴𝚈 ,

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀      𝙻𝙰𝙶𝙾𝚂 , 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙰  —  𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 :

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀      ⠀ lowercase                             intended.

the putrid and thick smell of burning flesh mingled into his labored breaths as his tired, bloodshot red eyes patterned back and forth in the darkness, searching.

searching for a glimpse of light, any signs of life in the cold space of the damp room, an exit he could find, a random object left behind that he could lean down and grab to pick the lock of these chains or something useful.

his pulse thundered in his ears, drowning out the deafening silence that surrounded him. in it, he could hear the echoes of every memory, every moan, every laugh, that led him to this moment. beaten, bound and chained, on the cusp of death.

even then, akua was still on his mind.

his mind raced with void questions he knew he wasn't likely to get any answers to. things like, was she safe? where did they take her? was she still alive? what seemed to be hours ago, he heard her screams as she was ripped from his grip.

a sudden flashback hit him like a wave. they had been running through the narrow maze of alley ways downtown, as the sound of shouting and gunfire burst behind them. desire turned to see akua's terrified face, her eyes wide with fear.

they almost made it to safety when the men caught up with them, dragging akua away as desire fought desperately to hold on to her. the last thing he saw was her being thrown into a black van before he was knocked out and somewhere along the journey, ended up here.

his fruitless inquiries probed him as he struggled against the rusty uncomfortable chains that bound his arms behind his back. there may have been hope for her; something in his heart refused to believe she didn't make it out without fighting. it could've been the fact that she grew up hard or that she was always street smart and resourceful... but he, on the other hand, was far from safe.

nowhere in the cards did he foresee his flight to lagos all those months ago bringing him to something as sinister and unnerving as this. his intuition was usually right about looming danger and taking precaution of the unfamiliar, but not this time.

this time, his sixth sense failed him. his boundaries dissipated, his moral compass was snatched by her smile. her smell, the way she moved. the taste of her lips, her eyes. her accent, her culture. she held all of his reasoning in the palm of her hands.

he was alone in a room, and the evidence of fear began to settle in. where did he misstep? one minute he was immersed beneath the red strobes of the strip club, his body pressed against the warmth of her beautiful brown skin, and the next, he was tripping over his own two feet. lost, isolated, a wanderer in the world of the unknown.

silently praying for an escape. a blessing, or some relief, to a foreign god. as if answering his plea, the door creaked open, its heavy steel frame moving slowly. this was the first time it had been opened since he was thrown into this hell.

a figure stepped into the room, the blinding light of the world outside casted long, ghoul-like shadows on the graffitied concrete walls. he squinted, trying to make out who was entering. he hadn't caught more than a thirty second glimpse of who captured him before he was out cold. as the figure approached, his heart skipped a beat.

" desire, "  the voice was soft, almost tender.

he recognized it immediately. it was akua. relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by his confusion. how did she manage to find him and what had they done to her?

"  akua... baby, thank god you okay,"  he rasped, his voice barely a whisper that croaked from his dry and aching throat.

she stepped closer and closer to him, her face now visible from the door's light, but the look in her eyes wasn't one of concern or fear. her expression was still and she wasn't battered. not so much as a scratch was on her. a visual difference compared to how beat up he was.

she didn't speak as she knelt beside him, her dainty fingers gently tracing the lines of his bruised face. her touch was demure and affectionate as it always was, but it hurt to be touched. his brows drew together as he winced in pain.

something told him that he could hold off on the specifics of asking her what she went through or how did she get away, he was simply happy to see she was alive.

she leaned in, her lips delicately brushing along his jawline, sending a shiver of mixed emotions down his spine. for a brief moment, hope unfurled within him. maybe they would be able to get out in time.

⠀⠀⠀maybe there was still a chance for them to make it.

" do you remember when we met, you told me to use you however i want to? and how you'd do anything for me ? " she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. her voice was a seductive whisper laced with the thick accent of her native tongue and the distinct smell of liquor on her breath.

her collected but eerie demeanor in contrast to his own was telling him more than anything she could've ever said. he was worried, but hesitant. trying to decipher the meaning of her words.

his heart dropped as he struggled to understand where this was going and why she was bringing the past up at a dire time like now. they had bigger things to worry about if they didn't move swiftly.

" of course i do, but why you bringin' this up right now? we should be tryna to get out here... , you been drinkin' ? " he managed to choke out his concerns.

" this isn't a rescue mission... i'm not here to save you from any of this. i'm here to collect on that offer, "  she continued, pulling back slightly, her eyes locking with his.

the sudden realization mercilessly sliced through the fragile hope he had clung to for hours in this hellish confinement.

her words were earthshaking, and he felt as though the ground beneath him was shifting. the weight of her betrayal pressed down on his chest, crushing him.

she wasn't here to help him? was this a setup? maybe their love got lost in translation. blurred somehow, somewhere along the lines of their time together over the last few months. he desperately hoped his sense of understanding was faulty and he was simply in a daze, dreaming, hallucinating—anything to make her words not mean what he thought they did.

" i don't know what they did to you in there kua, but please, babe... we can still make it out of here. we can still do everything we talked about. i promise we can sort all this out later, i'll protect you. just please untie me. " he pleaded, desperation seeping into his voice.

she shook her head slowly, every back and forth motion indicated her pity and evident disgust.

" oh look now, the pathetic sex-crazed american man wants to be my savior. he wants me to run away with him like this is a fairytale, so we can be together forever and live happily ever after. my hero! are you that stupid, desire? you don't get it, do you? this was never a relationship, it was a transaction. "

before he could respond, she straightened her posture, and stood to her feet once again. her curvy figure towering over him in power on all levels but her dismissive gaze never left his desolated one.

" i'm sure you remember all those nights you told me how love isn't worth the trouble, how you swore every woman was the same, how they only saw you as a status symbol because of your fame. you said they only wanted your money and how different i was but you still lied to me just the same. "

she paused, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes darkening with a knowing look. it was as though his thoughts rushed ten thousand miles a minute, as so much became unknowingly revealed to him.

their once intimate conversations had a special place in his heart, and he had every intention of getting her away from the shallow lifestyle of her career. he knew she was never happy with being a stripper.

he understood what drugs, crime, and sex ultimately led to in the end, but it never crossed his mind that his attempt at bending the truth to protect her would have hurt her like it did.

"  you lied, but i wasn't as naïve as you thought. i knew more than i let you believe i did. if you wanna act confused, i'll let you sit with that. as of right now, understand this: i'm a businesswoman here to collect a debt. let's see how much your love is really worth... "

his eyes followed the slight glint of the silver key tied around her neck, the hope for survival reigniting briefly within him. he knew that key was his ticket to freedom from these chains, from this torment, from lagos, if only he could convince her to use it.

she noticed his gaze and a sly smile spread across her lips. she reached up, fingering the key before dangling it in front of his face, letting it swing teasingly just out of his reach.

" you think this is your way out, don't you? " she purred, leaning in close.

" you're not getting away that easy, baby. not when we've finally got you right where we've wanted you for months. "

the realization hit him harder than any physical blow. she had been playing him from the start, and now, she held all the power. defeated, he couldn't speak another word, desperately trying to find a way to turn the situation in his favor, but every avenue seemed to lead back to her.

✷ SCANNING . . ❘❘ ❙❘❚❘❙ : STAY CONNECTED TO THE STORY ! ❜ ℗

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[2dboisloyal-devotee]

yandere kusuo saiki 

where when he interacted with you he thinks your in love with him because he thinks that worth every girl he interacted with start to have a crush on him 

but when you don’t show in any interest in liking him or even being his friend he’s confused 

(also sorry bc it’s really out of character for him 😪)

(Hey it's ok, isn't that the reason why we're here? And I'm always up for a try in making those contents to seem believable you can see them happening.)

>)~Imagines & Headcanons

Yandere Saiki Kusuo x Disinterested Reader

Warning: unintentional stalking, obsession, unprecedented paranoia

- Maybe it's just a random occurrence one day. Whether you accidentally bump into him, or meeting each other in the same place for your playful hiding from your friends and seeing his desperate pleas, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for... All the cliches somehow have you involved these recent days, he wouldn't be bothered a bit if it's with others.

- But it's him we're talking about here. Kusuo fears for his peaceful future after the fourth meeting happen with four being a bad luck and all. Especially if it happens when he goes to the grocery store, or you're from different school and still catches his sight.

- You don't seem to realize about this or merely passing them off as coincidences.

- In any case, whenever you're near in his vicinity, he goes out of his way in avoiding you like he does any others, better safe than sorry.

- At the same time, Kusuo couldn't let his guard down at all because when he thinks he's safe, he bumps into your back backwardly.

- On top of that since it's already becoming some sort of regular thing that you two keep meeting each other, you start to politely asking him straight to the point if his house is near yours by referring to a popular place while he's aware on your wariness of him.

- Give him a break. He's supposed to be the one worrying for his future. ... though it couldn't be helped really. Kusuo explains that even after distancing himself away from you conciously, he stumbles in your way again like what's happening right now. He was just out to get a coffee jelly and other miscellanious, showing you the plastic bag he brought.

- You apologize for getting ahead of yourself and states about the regular meeting getting weird in a concerning level when you're also familiar of his face, even his usual clothes by now.

- But then you speak up that you acknowledge him as an acquintance at this point and will try not to bother him unless it's necessary, he can also have a small talk with you whenever. You won't make it more uncomfortable than it is already so you both can go about your day, adapting to the situation.

- Kusuo couldn't get any more relieved about it now that he's sure you're not interested in him after watching you leave him alone. It comes down to a question on how's this possible. He was getting ready to accept the fact you'll be nosy like the others.

- Sure, he's grateful and all for once. He still can't help but feel suspicious, thinking it's like a looming bad omen.

- The next day, he starts to watch out for signs of your whereabouts and when he does find you, he would always go to a different path.

- Kusuo feels distressed if you can't be seen or felt anywhere near him because it would be troublesome guessing where you would go. You're like an unstable compass to him now.

- It will be in his and your best interest if he decides to keep an eye on you, won't it? He can help you or even protect you from afar whenever you have difficulties so it'll ease his anxiety and he can go back to spend his day in peace. It's becoming a part of his routine that he unconciously involve himself with your daily life.

- What he's doing so far is just his disaster prevention measures (it's more amplified if you're a clumsy person who often runs into problem). It's better to prevent them from happening at all than after they happen and will affect him.

- Kusuo is comfortable maintaining his part as an acquintance for you. Even if his actions sometimes indicate he's far from that.