#nice how famous people can get away with everything no matter how morally wrong it is >:(

[hellowyn-llewellyn]

I swear if they don’t get someone else to direct the Polly Pocket movie I will riot

[changbunnies]

Sugar (18+)

♡ Pairing: Cowboy/Outlaw!Changbin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: wild west au, cowboy/outlaw au, porn with plot

♡ Word Count: 7.5k (i got carried away lmao)

♡ Summary: Despite how terrible of an idea it is, Y/N can't seem to stop herself from continuously going back to the outlaw she let defile her. This is a sequel, and you can read part 1 here !

♡ Warnings: changbin is still mean and condescending in a "nice" sort of way. not as dubcon as part 1 but it is still a major theme, references to guns and gun fights+ bounty hunters + death + murder, discussions about morality + having a morally gray sense of right and wrong, discussions on purity and being impure / tainted / a "whore" (remember that this is a historical setting, and those views don't hold up! your worth as a person is not measured by purity and sex), their relationship is probs toxic lmao

♡ Smut Warnings: references to part 1 and other past dubcon situations, petnames (darlin, sugar, sweetheart, good girl, baby. reader is also refered to as a toy but not outwardly called one), power play, oral (f+m receiving), fingering (f receiving), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, creampie

♡ Notes: a sequel to Outlaw that no one asked for but i was compelled to write :') as usual, if you’re interested you can check out my fic rec and feedback blog @stray-dreams !

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

no first paragraph before read more because it goes straight into a dubcon discussion and i don't want anyone who would be bothered to accidentally see it! <3 just click the read more and enjoy !

You really should know better. You should know it’s a bad idea to keep going back to the outlaw who violated you, who treated you like a toy, who’s sense of morality was gray at best and entirely nonexistent at worst. How foolish must you be to continually make the same mistake over and over again? To return to the man who treats you as an object suited to his needs and entertainment?

Yes, you really should know better. And yet, here you are again, with the object of your fury and desire standing before you with that signature smirk and amused glint in his eye. Because despite everything, you find yourself addicted to him. You seek him out, again and again, unable to resist no matter how much the rational part of your brain screams at you not to. 

The first time you met him again following that fateful first encounter was by coincidence. Changbin had strolled into your town as the sun hung low in the horizon, tying his horse to one of the many hitching posts outside your family’s saloon before entering. You didn’t notice him right away, much too busy serving drinks to the men on the opposite end of the bar from where he sat, but once your gaze finally reached his.. 

You froze completely, eyes wide and breath halted. His brow raised when yours eyes met, a delighted glint in his eye as his famous smirk overtook his features. Your mind and heart were racing, grappling between what you should do and how you will look if you make a scene out of him being here. He didn’t intend to stumble upon you here when deciding to settle in town for the night, but by God, was he glad this was the place he chose. 

He had noticed you first evidently, and was just waiting for the moment when you’d notice him too. And it was amusing seeing you so disconcerted by his presence, your strong persona faltering the minute he entered your space.

He knew where your safe space was now, knew where you called home and where to come find you if he ever so chose to. You, the timid rabbit ensnared in a trap, and Changbin, the deadly hawk ready to devour.

You had to get it together, had to proceed as normal if you didn’t want someone else taking notice of your odd behavior and asking questions. If you were in your right mind, you could probably think of an appropriate excuse to why you were pushed off kilter, but Changbin left you anything but in your right mind. 

“What can I get you tonight, sir?” You said after taking a brief moment to steady yourself. The entire exchange of looks the two of you shared likely lasted mere seconds in reality, but it felt like an eternity. He smiled, a mischievous one that did your racing heart no favors, before he answered, “A bourbon, if ya please.” 

The night continued as normal for a time following that, with Changbin acting as a surprisingly well behaved bar patron. Though, the only reason he was well behaved was because his eyes were fixed on you. He watched in delight as you wrangled in rowdy patrons and ducked advances from drunken men left and right.

It was fun for him; watching you in your element like that, navigating the clamorous saloon with ease and redirecting trouble with a well practiced stern sweetness. Even your rejections to your patrons were sweet, almost sickeningly so; batted eyelashes, rehearsed apologies and excuses, with empty promises of a ‘next time.’ 

Eventually it came time for the saloon to close, with locals shuffling through the streets back to their homes while guests from out of town had to decide whether or not they’d be paying for a room to sleep off the drink in. And it’s during that time that Changbin finally caught you alone, the door to one of the saloon’s secluded storage cupboards left ajar after you entered the room. 

You were just following your nightly routine, checking what stock you had left and taking note of what you’d need to get more of before the week’s end, when you heard the subtle squeak of boots behind you. “Hey there, darlin’,” he smiled as he closed the door behind himself, stepping closer to you after the lock clicked. 

“Changbin–” your voice came out in a stern whisper, unconsciously taking a step back as he moved closer, though there wasn’t far for you to go in the small space, “Get out.”

“Now, now,” he tuts, feigning disappoint as he takes another step forward, further closing the gap between you, “is that any way to treat a payin’ guest?”

“Regardless of that, you still aren’t allowed in here,” you scowled, but his grin didn’t falter; if anything, it grew larger, gratified by the brave front you were putting on. If it were with anyone else, your bravery wouldn’t be a front at all, because you certainly are a brave woman– just not with Changbin.

With him, you’re weak, your spark diminishing the instant his eyes fall on you. And you’ll fight it, of course you will, but when all is said and done, you will give in. Because that’s just the effect he has on you. 

“If you’d rather we do this out in the hall, I’m fine with that,” he challenged you, knowing very well that’s the last thing you’d want. His hand reached up to your neck, pushing your hair behind your shoulder and exposing your neck. “It’s a shame the marks have faded,” he said, voice low as his fingers traced your skin, “what do ya say we bring ‘em back, hmm?” 

“Absolutely not,” you hissed, your hands landing on his shoulders as you tried to push him away from you. He stood firm despite your pushing, letting out a low chuckle as his fingers moved from your neck to your shoulder, and down the length of your torso. And to be fair, you weren’t actually using your full strength; you were holding back, and he could tell.

He’s familiar with how a woman who's desperate to get away will react– screaming, hitting, clawing; none of which is what you’re doing. And maybe that would make sense if you were the sort of person who’s fight or flight instinct was to freeze instead, but you're not. You’re brave, you fight, you don’t let men get the better of you.

So why is it that when it’s Changbin putting you in this situation, you easily relinquish control? Why were your attempts to put up a fight so feeble, as if you want to let him overpower you? The answer to that question is clear– the biting words and scornful looks doing little to hide the glimmer that hides underneath.

You want him. And if you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself yet, he’d help you see it. 

He brought his face close to yours, foreheads just barely touching, the scent of bourbon strong on his breath. The saloon had grown quiet with the closing of the bar and guests retiring to their rooms, and it made you wonder if Changbin could hear how hard your heart was beating. Your eyes were looking to the side, avoiding his piercing gaze. 

Eyes that looked straight through you, eyes that uncovered your deepest, darkest desires with ease, eyes that left no room for secrets or lies. Those were the kind of eyes Changbin had, and he used the power they held to his advantage with you. You can’t hide from him; his eyes strip you bare, leaving you as transparent as glass. 

Whether you admitted to your desires or not, he’d be the winner. If you gave in right away, confess that he filled you with an impulsive need you previously thought impossible, he’d take pride in the fact that he made you that way. And if you fought, if you denied and rejected, you’d grant him satisfaction when you inevitably crumbled to his touch. Either option left you the loser, because he knows he’s right, and there’s no escaping it. 

A one-sided stalemate, where the victor was already predetermined. Your fate unavoidable, Changbin’s hold on your senses undeniable. He has you, and that's why you couldn't look at him. Because no matter how hard you denied it, the truth would be apparent. Much to your dismay, he sees you for who you are– try as you might, there would be no hiding it. 

“Look at me, sugar,” he said as his hand hiked up your dress. He wanted to see the expression you held, wanted to see how far your self determination had fallen. Whether it was a look of submission this early on, or a look of pure contempt, it wouldn’t matter; because either way, there’s fun for him to have with you. 

“What do you want from me?” you asked with eyes squeezed shut, voice beginning to tremble as his hand rubbed between your thighs. You’re not even sure why you asked, entirely; you knew this was nothing but a game for him, an addictive cat and mouse. He’s in it for the pleasure, for the thrill of making you crumble to his whims– it was as simple and clear as that. 

“Oh, darlin,” he cooed as he leaned his head further down, lips brushing against your ear, “you already know what I want.” Fuck. He could see goosebumps erupting on your skin, noticed the way you instinctively tried to close your legs together, though his hand instantly stopped the act from happening. Fun, he thought. Toying with you is so fun.

“I want you,” Changbin continued, bringing his other hand to your face and forcing you to look back at him. “I want you pinned down underneath me. I want to hold you by the throat while I fuck you. I want to watch you become stupid from my cock.”

Oh, God. Your face was on fire, heart bursting out of your chest, hopelessly ensnared by him; caught in a trap you had no hope of escaping from unscathed. 

“I’m not going to let you do that,” you managed to say without stuttering, a feeble attempt to stand your ground, though the proverbial floor to stand on no longer existed. But with his hand nestled between your legs, you couldn’t hide the way your body reacted to his words; couldn’t hide the way arousal pooled in your underwear. Once again, your body has betrayed you. 

“Is that right?” he grinned as he spoke, the amusement in his voice clear. He knew you’d let him have you, but the fact that you were denying it makes things much more exciting. “I don’t think that’s true, sugar,” Changbin said, now directly rubbing over your soaked underwear, “I think you’ll let me do anything I want.. I think ya want me just as bad as I want you.” 

He was right, of course. Maybe you’d hide it for a time, but you won’t be able to resist for long. He’s frustratingly smug and assured, but it’s not without reason. Your self respect, your dignity, your purity– what had become of it? In blatant terms, it’d been ruined– forever marred by his touch, the damage to your body and mind irreparable.

And whatever you could reclaim from what was left has been forever tarnished by your own actions. Tainted by your desire for the man in front of you, your thirst forever unquenchable, the very sanctity of your being in the hands of a criminal. 

And in the end, he fucked you right there, in the small, tucked away storage cupboard, with your back against the wall, and legs around his waist. His strength held you up, his arms hooked under your own and supporting all of your weight, your desperate noises muffled only by clamping your hands over your mouth.

He made regular visits to the town after that, becoming a loyal regular of the saloon, charming staff and other patrons alike with his wit and allure. It was infuriating watching him play the role of a simple wanderer looking for work, his true nature and motives known only to you.

No one else seemed to know what lied underneath the charming front. The worst kind of man, a manipulator through and through, a deviant who beckoned you to his room in the late hours of the night, the proprietor to a secret affair not yet uncovered by those around you. 

However, he couldn’t hide his identity forever; his past actions eventually caught up to him when a gang of bounty hunters began to sweep the area with wanted posters in hand, eager to collect the reward for the head of Seo Changbin. He left town in a blaze of smoke and gunfire, shooting back at anyone who dared follow him.

You were relieved at first, knowing that Changbin couldn’t return without instigating a fierce gun fight for his life. But as the weeks passed, a gnawing feeling began to eat away at your chest. The bounty hunters moved on, carried by the promise of wealth further west, and yet Changbin hadn’t returned to town. And that was a good thing– or at least, it was supposed to be. 

Did you.. miss him? No, that was impossible. Completely unfeasible, utterly out of the realm of possibility. That’s what you told yourself, but the gnawing feeling didn’t recede in the slightest; if anything, it grew stronger with each passing day.

Did you really want to see Changbin again? No, it had to be the hormones talking– surely you weren’t actually hoping to see him again. He twisted your beliefs and made you confused, that’s all; you could recover from this with time. 

But you’d been thinking a lot lately about what made Changbin different from the bounty hunters that hunted him, and you came to the conclusion that they weren’t much different in the end; they went wherever money and women called to them, a penchant for violence ingrained in the very essence of their actions.

The only difference between them and Changbin was that he didn’t live under false pretenses or a faux sense of morality; he knew exactly who he was, and he didn’t pretend to be anything different in front of you. 

And can you call a bounty hunter morally superior when at the end of the day they are still taking a life in exchange for money? Can you really say that one sin justifies another? Is it okay to kill someone if that person was in the wrong first? You didn’t think about these things until you met Changbin, and if you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know where you stood anymore on whether or not someone like him deserved to die. 

You found yourself questioning the people you used to applaud, and wondering if you were really as good of a person as you thought you were. Maybe these complicated feelings always lied within you, and all it took to bring them out was meeting the right person.

No, it was all Changbin’s fault that you’ve begun to feel this way. He warped your thoughts and desires, he made you doubt what you once held firm to, he’s bad for you.

But even so, knowing he’s bad for you, knowing that he makes you act irrationally, knowing that he triggers your deepest impulses, you are here again. Back in the place you first met him, the place you once called home, surrounded by the ghosts of your past, of the person you were before you met him. 

“So we meet again, darlin’,” he said when your figure first emerged in his doorway, tense frame instantly relaxing when met with the sight of you, hand falling from its readied position on his gun holster.

You are no threat to him, hungry for his touch as you are. Any threat from you would ring hollow, because for better or worse, he knows you. And you're certainly capable of a lot of things, but fighting against your basest desires doesn’t seem to be one of them. 

You stepped inside fully, trying to have a nonchalant air about you, though you’re sure Changbin was able to see through it. He always reads you easily, always takes notice of even the most minute of changes in your body language. You’re sure that even now, he can sense the subtle shy anxiety that wells under the surface. But regardless, you’re here now, having come too far to retreat at the last minute. 

And you know that he knows what it is you want, knows why you are here, but should you still be honest? Debase yourself by admitting your most carnal of desires? But at this point, what were you if not tarnished?

Your worth can’t go any lower than it already has– you were already brought to your lowest point, so what was the harm in indulgence? If you were already ruined, why shouldn’t you disregard all you’ve ever been taught, all you ever thought you knew, and let him devastate you? 

But no, you can’t do that. It would be too easy, and if there’s anything you’ve learned about Changbin, it’s that he doesn’t like easy. He wants you to stand your ground, he wants you to argue and fight against everything he says and does. He wants your eyes angry, for your voice to tremble with indignation, because it’ll make it that much better when he dismantles you. 

He wants to be the object of your ire, for your resentment to build to the point of eruption, only for it to be eclipsed by how good it feels when he fucks you. Whether or not you truly hate him is up for debate at this point, and ultimately doesn’t matter much. What does matter is the fun you grant him, the cat and mouse game culminating into a moment that can only be described as pure bliss.

“I know, I know. Ya want me to fuck you, don’t ya darlin’?” He smiles as he says it, anticipating what your reaction will ultimately be. A glare maybe, with your face hot and red, or mousy as you finally admit openly how bad you want him.

While the looks of animosity are his favorite, he likes the shy looks too; the timid expression on your face when he catches you off guard, a quick glimmer of embarrassment or sheepishness before you can conjure your antipathy to replace it. 

“No. I want to fuck you. And you’ll let me,” you say, hoping to come across as confident and stern, “You’ll do whatever I want you to do.”

“Oh? Is that right?” Changbin lets out a laugh, head tilting as he grants you another amused look. That’s certainly a surprise, but he’s not opposed to it. He can easily do that– give you a taste of control, that is. It’s an interesting proposition; a fun one. 

He can let you believe you’re the one in charge, that you have the power to make the rules and that he’ll follow them. And maybe he will follow them– to an extent, of course.

He’ll give you his ‘yes, ma’am’s’ and ‘whatever ya say, darlin’ ‘s, play the role of the obedient man cursed to follow your whims, hit you with tongue-in-cheek remarks and let you ‘tame’ him with harsh looks and biting words when he steps out of line. All so that in the end, when he easily takes all the control away from you, it’ll be that much sweeter. 

It’s a fun game you’re offering him, so he’ll play the hell out of it. “Sure, sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl for me, I can give ya a reward,” Changbin smirks as he says it, clearly not taking you seriously in the slightest. But that’s okay, because you didn’t expect him to; you knew any attempt to wrestle control would be met with an amused smirk, you knew that none of your harsh words would do anything but fuel his delight. 

The reason you’re doing this isn’t to try and gain some sense of control that you know you won’t be granted, and you don’t intend to make him genuinely submit to you; it’s just part of the game between you, and you’re doing your part to make it the most enjoyable it can be. Because if you’re addicted to Changbin, if you can’t escape the way his touch makes you feel, if you can’t get past the need and craving for him, then you need to make him just as addicted to you. 

Just as your thoughts are consumed by him, you want his to be consumed by you. Think of only you, crave only you, make it so that no one else in the world can compare. You want to be the first person, the only person, he goes to when he wants to fuck. You want to be the drug in his veins, you want to eat away at his self-control the same way he eats away at yours. 

Changbin could easily fight against your touches, stand firm in place and overpower you if he so chooses, but he’s letting you push him to his knees. “Oh, this is what you want?” he asks with his usual smirk, his hands already moving under your dress to squeeze at your thighs. “Ya could’ve just asked, sweetheart. I’ll do it if you ask me nicely.” 

You roll your eyes, letting a scoff escape your lips. The only way he’d listen to a request from you is if he relentlessly teased and embarrassed you first. You can easily picture the way he’d grin at you, and the condescending tone and words he’d use to make your fists tremble and skin flush. Yes, even if you asked nicely, begged sweetly, or even desperately, he’d use it to ruin you. 

“I’m not asking,” you say as you pull your dress up and over your head, tossing it to the floor beside you, because if Changbin is going to be between your legs, you want a full view of it. Rather than act though, he stays completely still, looking up at you with a lifted brow and not at all subtle smirk, as if to challenge you. A look that says ‘aren’t you going to make me?’ 

You bring your hand to his hair, tugging roughly as you pull him closer to your center, commanding him to get started. “So pushy, are you always this needy?” he teases with a laugh, but adheres to your demand nonetheless, wasting no time in letting his tongue out to lap at you, his hands now squeezing your thighs rougher than before. 

Your previous affairs were a secret you held close to your chest, as you knew you’d be branded a “whore” if it was known you’ve had sex whilst unwed. That being said, you’d only done the act with those you had serious interest in. Sweet men, who treated you like an angel, with the utmost care and consideration. Careful touches and soft kisses that were carried through all interactions with you. 

When they ate you out, they did so sweetly, with slow kitten licks and gentle caresses to your thighs. And it was nice, you even thought you liked it at the time, but you know that’s not what you want now. Everything about Changbin is different from every other man you’ve been with, and you want this moment to be different too. You want him to devour you, to make a mess of you, to make you feel a pleasure so foreign and intense that it consumes you. 

And that’s exactly what he grants you– a pleasure so explosive you have to bite your lip to hold back the noises that threaten to leave you. The drag of his tongue can only be described as euphoric, and when his lips wrap around your clit and suck, you can’t help but let out a loud, shuddering gasp. You want to keep watching him, but you can’t– your eyes refuse to stay open, the pleasure much too intense to do anything else.

He can tell you’re close when your thighs start twitching, quick breathy pants and whines leaving you freely. And that’s when he gets an evil idea– an idea that will make you desperate and whiny, one that will rip any semblance of control out from your hands and place it back into his. A strong suck on your clit, a few quick flicks of his tongue, your body trembling as your mind screams close, close, close–

And in an instant the feeling is gone, all the built up pleasure receding into nothing. A frustrated whine leaves your lips, looking down to see Changbin staring back at you with that stupid fucking smile he has every time he successfully drives you crazy. “F-Fuck, you fucking asshole, you–” you prattle off insults, though the act does nothing but add to the satisfaction he feels; this is exactly the reaction he was hoping for. 

You move your hand to the back of his head, pushing him back to where you want him and demanding that he keep going. And to your surprise, he does, though not without a muffled snicker first. And if your mind wasn’t so clouded by the desire to cum, you might have realized what his intentions were by going back in without a fight, but you didn’t have the mental capacity for that any longer. All you knew is that you wanted, needed, to release all over his tongue. 

Changbin goes through the same motions as before, expertly building you up to your release, getting you so, so close, before pulling away again right before you can. Another frustrated, high pitched whine leaves you, hips stuttering in an effort to feel something, anything to bring your release to you. You look down at him again, eyes glossy from the tears welling in them, and fuck, that look really does it for him. The pretty look of aggravation mixed with desperation makes his cock impossibly hard. 

You try to push him to your pussy again, but this time he resists, staying firmly in place and watching the way your expression twists into one of near anguish with an amused satisfaction. “Changbin–” your voice doesn’t come out anywhere near as stern and commanding as you wish it to; instead, his name leaves you as an urgent, desperate mewl.

“Aww, poor thing. Ya gonna cry?” he mocks you, head tilted and an infuriating grin plastered on his face. Fuck. You knew it wouldn’t be long until Changbin flipped the script and put you back at his mercy, but this soon?

And he didn’t know whether you were genuinely vying for control or not, if you went into this with the intent to fight until the bitter end or if you were resolved to relinquish it after some time; what he did know is that he loved seeing you like this. Broken almost, resolve crumbled like a sand castle hit by a wave, so weak and ruined, all because of him. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks in a tone that is almost sickeningly sweet, another twisted smile of satisfaction on his face. You nod frantically, a shameless display of your need, and he smirks, answering your reaction with a condescending, “Why should I?” Another whine, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as indignation and desperation eat away at you. 

Changbin coos when he sees the tears fall, another “poor thing” leaving him. Funny how he’s the one on his knees, yet is the one entirely in control. You beg wantonly now, countless utterances of “please” and “I need it”, all sense of restraint and shame seeming to have evaporated the moment your tears began to fall. The display makes his cock throb in his trousers, erotic beyond words, utterly enthralling and so pretty. 

“Shh, that’s enough darlin’,” he says as he takes one of your legs and guides it over his shoulder, fully ready to support your weight and keep you standing for what he plans to do next.

You keen when his tongue finally makes contact with you again, body shuddering as your head lolls back. One arm snakes around the leg not propped up on him, squeezing at the flesh within his reach, while the other moves between your thighs, fingers prodding at your entrance for just a moment before sliding easily inside. 

He gives you no time to adjust to the thickness of his fingers, setting a fast pace with them from the very start. Your eyes roll back, a cacophony of lewd noises filling the space as your high quickly builds back up for the third time.

Between the earlier denied orgasms, the relentless pace he’s setting now with his fingers and the way his lips feel wrapped around your clit, you’re already dangerously close. Your fingers tangle in his hair, both as a means to ground yourself and to keep him as close to you as possible; and it only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue to send you over the edge.

You cum hard, Changbin’s body and hold on your leg being the only thing keeping you upright as the waves of pleasure course through you. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your entire body shaking, with the only noise you’re capable of making being sharp gasps as your release spills on his tongue and fingers. 

You sink to the floor when he moves back and lets you go, legs akin to jello and no longer able to support your weight after having what was easily the most intense orgasm of your life. Your eyes are still closed, breathing labored as you try to bring your mind back down to earth. Changbin meanwhile rises to his feet, being the one to look down at you now. 

It’s a pretty sight; your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, tear stains on your cheeks and body flushed. But it could still be prettier, and he knows exactly how he wants to achieve that look. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” you hear Changbin’s voice call to you from above, and when you do you’re met with quite the sight. 

His cock is in one of his hands, trousers having fallen to the floor around his ankles. You must have been too lost in your haze to hear him unzip his pants, or to hear the sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor. You look up at his face next, taking in the expectant gaze he’s shooting at you. 

You’re half tempted to say no, to make a big show out of protesting and coax him to put you back in your place, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want his cock in your mouth right now. It’s not often you’re granted the pleasure of sucking him off, as he usually he goes straight into fucking you after he’s done with his merciless teasing– so you’ll play the good girl role, just this once.

You shift to be fully on your knees, opening your mouth wide for him and letting your hands rest on his thighs. He brings a hand to the back of your head, pushing you the rest of the way when you hesitate, ensuring you take the entirety of his length in your mouth in one go. You gag when the tip touches your throat, but Changbin’s hand holds you in place, preventing you from instinctively retreating. 

The way you're looking up at him through your lashes, eyes glossy with fresh, unshed tears and nose touching his pubic bone– it’s enough to drive him wild. But he won’t lose it just yet; he’ll grant you a small kindness by giving you a few moments to adjust, to familiarize yourself with the feeling of his cock down your throat and learn how to breathe through it. He can’t let his favorite toy completely suffocate on him, after all. 

He sets a brutal pace once he’s sure you’re adjusted, sparing your poor throat no mercy. You can barely even hear the low groans he lets out over the salacious sounds leaving your mouth and throat. It’s a struggle not to choke and sputter every time he thrusts back into your mouth, and each failed attempt causes the tears on your lashes to spill over. 

The saliva that has pooled in your mouth escapes out of the sides, sliding down your chin and dripping onto your chest. You can’t help but squirm as he holds your head in place, your nails digging into his thighs as you try your hardest to ignore the growing ache in your jaw and effectively breathe through your nose. You can feel his cock twitch against your tongue as his pace becomes the slightest bit more sporadic, and for a moment you think he intends to cum down your throat, but he doesn’t. 

He pulls out instead, a subtle smirk on his face as he watches you take big, gulping breaths to allow air back into your lungs. You wipe your face clean with the back of your hand before you look up at him, knowing he’s far from done with you. He takes you in his arms, helping you rise to your feet (though you doubt he’s helping you due to any sort of caring, and is only doing it to get you where he wants you faster.)

“Come with me, darlin’,” he says as he leads you to the bed with him, paying no mind to the unsteadiness in your legs as you try to keep up with his pace. Changbin sits first, pulling you onto his lap immediately after. You already know what he wants, but you can’t– your knees ache from the time spent on the hard floor, and the usual strength in your legs has all but evaporated.

“Bin–” you start to whine, complaints lingering on your lips, but he tuts before you can even begin to speak them. “What’s wrong, sugar? Didn’t ya say you wanted to fuck me?”

Fucking asshole, throwing your words back at you and looking at you with that devilish smile. He should know you weren’t even that serious about it! He’s just being cruel. “I can’t, I–”

“You can,” he interrupts, guiding you to align yourself with him, “You will.” His hands are holding your hips, another expectant look on his face as he waits for you to sink down on him. “You’re so fucking mean–” you cry, body trembling as you lower yourself onto his cock. He just grins, knowing very well that if you truly hated how mean he was, you wouldn’t have crawled your way back to him. 

Your pace isn’t all that fast given the ache in your knees, but contrary to what you’d expect, Changbin doesn’t scold you. Instead, he cups your face under the chin, directing you to look at him. “So sweet, aren’t ya sugar?” he smiles, thumb rubbing your cheek while his other hand stays firmly on your hip, “such a brat sometimes, but you do whatever you're told in the end, don’t ya? Such a good girl when ya want to be, huh?” 

You should be ashamed of the way his words fill your stomach with butterflies, but you truly can’t help it. He knows what he’s doing too; knows how to drive you absolutely crazy, knows how to be mean in just the right way, so that when a praise hits your ears it affects you all the more. 

However, despite your best effort, you can’t get your legs to cooperate with you any further. Your legs feel so heavy, and having your hands firmly placed on Changbin’s chest for support does nothing to ease the unsteady trembling. It’s a subtle sort of humiliation– making you do something he knows is near impossible in your current state.

The tears are welling in your eyes again and threatening to spill, frustration in your gut and exhaustion completely taking over your body. Your legs throb from the exertion and fatigue, your energy beyond spent, you can’t keep going. Your pace slows to a near stop, and you look at him pleadingly, teary eyed and pouty, a silent beg for his help. 

He knew you wouldn’t be able to do it for long, but he made you do it anyway, because this is what he really wanted. He wanted to watch you turn into a pathetic, whining mess, he wanted to relish the look of anguish on your face. He has to be cruel to you, because the end result is always so addicting. 

“Tell me what you need, baby. Need my help? Need me to fuck you?” he smiles sweetly as he asks, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. You nod quickly, leaning into his touch that shouldn’t at all be comforting but somehow is in your near-delirious state. “Use your voice, sweetheart. I gotta hear you say it.”

God, he loves when you get to this point– where all anger and shame has been replaced by the overwhelming desire and need you feel for him. You’re babbling out pleas over and over, and he takes a moment to savor the sound of it before shushing you. “Hush now, darlin’, I’ll give ya what you want.” 

He flips your positions easily, you landing on your back against the mattress and Changbin now hovering over you. You stare up at him as he sinks back into you, the sight of him making your heart race. It’s infuriating how handsome he is, especially in moments like this, where sweat lingers on his brow and his jaw clenches. 

Changbin is good at acting unaffected by you, always able to make it seem like he’s not at all enthralled or addicted, always making your need for him appear one-sided. But the truth is he needs you just as bad as you need him, because in you he has finally found his perfect match. You wanted him to crave you solely, to look for you and only you, not knowing that he already was. 

He didn’t seek you out all those times after your lucky re-encounter because it was easy or convenient; it’s because it was you, specifically. He’s no stranger to brothels and bordellos, nor to the coy advances of working women. There are countless women in the world, countless establishments he could spend his coin at to satiate himself, but they weren’t you. All he wants and all he needs, the very picture of perfection, you. 

He leans down, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss as he starts to thrust in earnest, and the act makes your stomach twist. He’s kissed you before of course, but only ever with the intent to tease or humiliate you, and never while his cock was inside you. And you don’t know why, but it feels good. He can tell you like it too, by the way you clench around him, and from the way a pleasured noise he’s never heard before leaves your throat. 

He keeps his lips attached to yours, tongues sloppily rubbing together. His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks into you, his tight hold leaving indentations behind in your skin. Changbin curses under his breath when he pulls away, both of your highs quickly approaching. You’re squeezing him so tight, and the feeling of your nails digging into his skin is intoxicating. 

“Fuck, ‘m so close-” he groans, pace quickly becoming more sporadic. And this is normally the point he’d pull out, letting his cum spill between your thighs or onto your chest and stomach, but.. He looks at you, and all he can think about is how you’re his. He wants no one else to have you, no one else to touch you, no one to even look at you the way he does. 

So instead, he pulls you in even closer, your chest firmly pressed into his as he presses his lips to your ear. “Gonna cum in you darlin’. You’d like that, right? Want me to fill you up?” You gasp at his words, one that transitions into a moan as your arms and legs wrap snuggly around him. It’s a bad fucking idea, but you want it so bad. 

Whatever the consequences are, you’re too far gone to care about them. You want him to claim you in all ways; his teeth, his nails, his cum– it didn’t matter, so long as you were his in the end. “Y-Yes, please, I want it,” your answer comes out between shuddering inhales, desperate and eager for Changbin to release inside you. 

It only takes a few more thrusts for him to spill inside you, the sensation of his cum shooting in you both foreign but good beyond what you ever could’ve imagined. His hips don’t stop moving even as he cums, and the continued thrusts paired with the feeling of being filled up for the first time sends you over the edge too, body convulsing in his hold as pure pleasure fills your senses. 

You’re both breathless when you finally come down from your high, body going limp as you release Changbin from your hold. He pulls out slowly, and fuck, the sight of his cum dripping out of your hole is utterly intoxicating; he’s definitely going to become addicted to it. He lies next to you when he’s done admiring the view, looking at your face next with a subtle smile.

“What do ya think about being my lady? Hmm, baby?” he asks as he pulls you in, pressing your body into his as his arm wraps around your waist. You blink as you process it, a sort of warmth overtaking your body as the question settles in you.

“...Are you serious?” you can’t help but ask, unsure if this is going to transition into some sort of tease if you say yes, or if the question is genuine. 

“Dead serious, darlin’,” Changbin answers easily, his smile the most earnest you’ve ever seen it to be. Not at all condescending, no trace of a humiliating remark waiting to be said; he’s simply asking you a question, with nothing more beyond it.

And he wouldn’t say it’s love that drives him to make you his, because genuine love is a foreign thing to a man like him, but this is likely the closest he’ll ever get. He just wants to know you’ll always be there, that you’d follow him anywhere he goes, that no matter where life takes the two of you, you’ll belong to him and he’ll belong to you. 

And fuck, it’s a really bad idea. You really, really shouldn’t– you should know better. So why are you entertaining the idea? Why does the thought of spending your days with someone so objectively terrible make you so happy?

He’s really fucking ruined you, it seems. He’s a terrible man who does terrible things, he’s a criminal, he’s a manipulator– your immediate answer should be a resounding “no.” But the truth of the matter is that Changbin makes you feel like no one else; infuriated but desired, broken but simultaneously put together.

You’ve come to enjoy the dynamic you have with him; you now understand the fun in the back and forth, the pleasure to be had in the banter and fight, how impossible it is to let someone who matches your energy go. And a life with him would surely be a life of turmoil, of danger and of risk, but it would also be one of pleasure and unforeseen excitement.

Your life was good before meeting him, but it was also dull and predictable. You were likely to spend your whole life in the same place, forever at the beck and call of your parents, or a man that while sweet, wouldn’t excite or please you the way Changbin does. If you say yes, your life will change forever. 

No, that’s not quite true; your life already has been forever altered by meeting him. You’re already his, and this is nothing more than a formality. Because why else would you be here right now, if you weren’t already his? For better or worse, you belong to him, body and soul, and you’ve come to realize that nothing will change it.

“Teach me how to use a gun and I’m all yours,” you finally say, and Changbin laughs, clearly pleased with the answer you came to. “You got it, darlin’. Just promise ya won’t shoot me by the time we’re done.” 

“No promises. I’d be careful if I were you,” you smile, tone light and playful. “Is that a threat, sugar?” he meets your smile with one of his own, tilting his head to the side as he always does when he’s amused.

“Sure is. Don’t pretend you don’t deserve it,” you answer, and he laughs again, pulling you into a kiss afterwards. Body to body, limbs tangled together as you smile at each other, he thinks about what a perfect partner in crime you’ll be from here on out.

[albertasunrise]

Realised Too Late - Part 1

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Frankie since high school and you’ve harboured a secret that whole time that has eaten you alive. You’re in love with him. You know he only sees you as Arce (Maple), the nickname he gave you on your first day. You're just his Canadian friend, never anything more. When his life takes a series of different turns, however, you're there to support him through it but how long can you do that before it just hurts too much?

Warnings: Drug abuse, alcohol, depression, overdose, language, Angst, Smut 18+

Pairings: Frankie Morales x Reader - Ben Miller x Reader

Notes: There are some tough subjects in this one so if you're easily triggered by warnings above, don't read. This will be in three parts.

§

He was a shell of the man you’d known as kids, the army having stripped him of his soul and leaving him limp and boneless. You hadn’t been surprised when he’d turned to drugs for relief, he was an addict. As kids, he was addicted to exercise, constantly dragging you on hikes or to swimming events that left him buzzing after. During his time in the army, he was addicted to danger, unable to just sit on the sidelines when his brothers were out there risking their lives. When he’d retired he’d struggled. He was evicted from his flat after his last job, the neighbours complaining about the noise, the screaming as he was plagued by nightmares of the things he’d seen and done, they didn’t care he was ex-military. Or that his girlfriend had left him. So you had taken him in, held him at night as he sobbed and did everything you could to help him get better.

At first, you’d not realised that the change in him was because of the coke. He’d been happy, positive, bubbly. He’d returned to the Frankie you once knew. You’d been over the moon at his progress, happy that you’d pushed him to attend counselling and he’d sold it to you so well, made you believe he was going but he wasn’t. No, he was driving to a bar where he had a beer, sniffed some coke in the bathroom and left, returning to you with a new story to sell his lie.

You’d found the bag of powder whilst doing the washing. You’d known instantly what it was and you’d broken down immediately, unable to believe that he’d do that stuff after what he knew. What it had done to your family. He’d found you sobbing on the floor, clutching your stomach and he’d dropped to your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms.

‘Arce, what’s wrong?’ He’d pleaded and your tears had stopped almost immediately, sorrow replaced with pure burning anger that you’d never felt before.

‘You lied to me.’ You’d growled, pushing away ‘You haven’t been going to counselling have you?’

‘I have.’

‘If you continue to lie to me I swear I will kick the shit out of you.’ You'd spat, getting to your feet with that bag clutched tightly in your hand ‘This is the real reason you’ve been -happier- isn’t it Francisco?’ You continued, holding out your hand and revealing the bag that sat on your palm ‘How could you?’ You’d sobbed ‘After what I’ve been through… How could you resort to this as a fix?’

Frankie had knelt there gobsmacked, unsure of what to do or say to you. He'd not even thought about you when he’d been offered the substance the first time, he’d just focused on the fact he’d been told it would help… and it had.

‘Arce I’m so sorry.’ He’d sobbed ‘I just needed the pain to stop. He’d told me it would stop and it did.’

‘But Frankie. This shit ruins lives.’ You said, your tone changing to one with more sympathy ‘Look what it did to my family.’

Your brother had gotten hooked on the stuff after his relationship had fallen apart. His wife had left him, taking the baby with her and he’d lost it. Turning to drink and drugs to dull the pain. He’d managed to hide it well, no one ever suspecting him. One fateful day however the truth had been revealed most tragically. It had been your birthday and Frankie had organised a surprise party for you at his. Your brother had been tasked to pick up and bring your parents over but he’d taken just a little too much before getting behind the wheel. They had never stood a chance. His car was t-boned by a truck when he’d jumped a red light, everyone dying on impact. When you’d arrived at Frankie’s you’d been over the moon to see his place decorated with balloons and streamers, your friends all stood there waiting for you but his face had ripped that happiness away. He’d walked up to you, everyone else remaining where they were and he placed a hand on each arm, bracing you for what was to come and as the words left his mouth you'd passed out, falling limply into his arms.

He’d supported you through it all. The funeral. Sorting through your parent's stuff. You’d considered selling their house but he’d convinced you not to.

‘Don’t you want your kids to grow up here?’ He’d said ‘You have a story about every inch of this house. Don’t sell those stories to someone else.’

So you’d kept it. Moved in and worked on modernising it without ripping out its soul, keeping the memory of your family alive within its walls.

‘You need to stop this Frankie.’ You’d stated, snatching the powder out of sight ‘I will help you but you have to promise me no more lies.’ You’d continued, noting the relief that had flooded his expression ‘You lie to me Frankie and that’s it. You’re out.’

‘Of course.’ He’d replied, nodding hastily as his tears tracked down his cheeks ‘No more lies… I promise.’

He’d kept his promise. He actually attended counselling, his shrink calling each time to confirm he’d visited. He wasn’t aware that they did it, you’d asked them to keep it between the two of you but you’d needed some sort of confirmation that he really was trying to help himself. The nightmares had returned but after a while, they became less frequent along with the panic attacks at loud sounds. He was doing so much better and you were so proud of him. He’d then started to attend AA meetings, finding them useful. You’d gone along to the first few with him on his request but as his confidence had grown he started attending alone and that’s how he’d met her.

Lucy.

She was nice enough. She’d been hooked on coke too after leaving the army so they’d connected in a way that a lot of the other members never could. Their romance had been fast-paced and it killed you. You were happy he had someone, of course, you were… You were just devastated that it wasn’t you.

‘So Lucy’s having a few friends over on Friday. She wondered if you wanted to join?’ He asked as he sipped at his coffee ‘She’s desperate to get to know you.’

‘You talk about me with her?’ You asked, raising your brows as little in surprise.

‘Of course, I do.’ He replied, giving your a bemused expression ‘You’re my best friend. Why wouldn’t I?’

You shrugged, sipping at your coffee as you looked at anything but him, desperate to hide your heartbreak from him. He didn’t notice, just continued to speak as he supped at his black coffee, oblivious to your pain.

‘So will you come?’ He asked with hopeful eyes.

‘Sure.’ You reply, praying something comes up that means you can’t go.

Nothing does.

‘So you’re the famous Arce?’ She asked, shaking your hand when Frankie brought you over.

‘That I am.’ You replied, smiling sheepishly at her.

‘Frankie’s told me all about you.’ She stated, giving you a warm smile ‘You’ve been quite a friend to him.’ She stated ‘Especially with his coke addiction. Most people who have been through what you have would have run a mile. He’s lucky to have you.’

You give her a small nod but inside you’re screaming. She thanks you for coming and apologises for having to go, food needs to be checked. As soon as she leaves you turn and walk to the door, tears streaming down your cheeks.

‘Hey whoah! Where are you going? What’s the matter?’ Asked Frankie as he grabbed your shoulders and stopped you in your tracks ‘Why are you crying?’

‘Fuck you, Frankie.’ Was your reply before you shrugged out of his grip and left, ignoring him as he called after you.

You ignored his calls and texts as you laid there curled up on your couch, praying that he'd choose to stay with her that night but you didn’t get such luck. He walked through the door a little after 1 in the morning, toeing off his shoes and hanging his coat and cap up before stepping quietly into the house. He heard your silent cries and found you curled up on the couch, an empty bottle of wine laying on the floor in front of you.

‘Lucy was really upset that you left.’ He stated, his tone angry ‘That was really rude.’

‘Get out.’ Was your reply, barely above a whisper.

‘What the fuck is your problem?’ he growled, his patience spent ‘She was nothing but nice to you and then you just fucking leave.’

‘She isn't the reason I left.’ You spat, venom dripping from every word as you sat up and glared at him ‘You’re the reason I left.’

‘Me?’ He questioned, pointing at his chest ‘The fuck did I do?’

‘You had no right to tell her.’ You growled ‘You had no right…’ You trailed off, feeling more tears threatening to spill.

‘Tell her what?’

‘You know what Frankie.’ You yelled, scrapping a hand over your tear-stained face ‘There are a handful of people that know the truth about how they died. I choose who I tell, not you.’

‘Arce-.’

‘I’m going to bed.’ You interrupted, getting up from the couch and heading upstairs, leaving a guilty Frankie in your wake.

He didn’t come home for a few days after that evening. You assumed he was trying to give you some space but you didn’t care, you were just too hurt. When he did come back you saw something different in him, something had changed and not for the better. He was withdrawn, quiet. Spending more time in his room or under the hood of his truck than anywhere else and you found yourself worrying about him despite the anger you still felt towards him.

‘Frank, what’s going on with you?’

‘Surprised you care.’ He snarled, pushing his food around his plate with his fork.

‘Fuck you, Francisco. Of course, I care.’ You spat, slapping the table with your hand and making him jump.

You weren’t expecting him to cry.

‘She’s pregnant.’ He said, taking you by surprise.

‘And you’re not happy? You’ve always wanted kids… what changed?’ You asked, your confusion evident.

‘I do want kids.’ He replied, lip trembling ‘She doesn’t.’ He continued ‘She’s booked herself in for a termination next week.’

‘What?’ Your heart shatters ‘Did she even consult you?’

He simply shook his head and you felt your anger bubbling beneath the surface again.

‘I was over the moon when she told me.’ He affirmed, pushing his place away and leaning back in his chair ‘I practically sobbed with joy but then she told me that she was terminating it. Said she’d never wanted kids and that it was the best thing. No kid deserves two junkie parents.’

‘But you’re clean… Aren’t you?’

‘Yes.’ He replied, slightly exasperated ‘And I would do everything in my power to remain clean for that kid.’ He paused, sniffing as he wiped away his tears ‘I begged her to reconsider but she refused. Said that if I couldn’t support her decision then she didn’t want to be with me.’

‘Frank-.’

‘I thought this was it.’ He stated ‘I thought I’d finally found someone I could be myself with, raise kids with.’ His works sting more than he’ll ever know ‘I didn’t think after… After them that I’d ever get a chance to be a dad. I guess I never will.’

You have to push your pain to one side and comfort him. He and his ex had been expecting, he’d been so excited but after Santi had dragged him on a job in South America that had resulted in the death of his commanding officer and them all leaving empty-handed, he’d returned to learn that she’d lost it and left him. You were sure that had contributed towards his downward spiral into drugs, little did you know, he’d had a problem before that. He’d hidden it so well for so long.

‘Frankie I know you’re destined to be a dad.’ You said softly, taking your hands in his ‘You’ll find the right woman one day.’

‘I haven't left her.’ He said suddenly ‘I love Lucy. I just need some time to grieve the baby.’

‘Frank-.’

‘I love her Arce.’ He stated ‘We can work past this.’

You leave at that.

~

You cried yourself to sleep when he’d moved in with her. You’d helped him pack, drove boxes over to her in your car but you’d hadn’t stayed when they invited you in, unable to bear being around him a moment longer. After that, you ignored his attempts to contact you. Didn’t answer the door when he came knocking. You just let yourself fall into a dark depression, one you didn't think you’d ever recover from and you didn’t expect Benny to be the one that pulled you out of it.

‘What’s going on sweetheart?’ He asked, holding you as you sob into his chest.

‘I’m just so alone.’ You sobbed ‘I’m the plain friend that everyone relies on but no one loves. God, I’ve not been asked on a date in years. My life is a mess and now Frank’s gone and I’m all on my own.’

‘You’re gorgeous babe.’ He said, placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head ‘Anyone would be lucky to have you on their arm.’

‘You don’t need to be nice to me Benny.’ You chuckle, pulling away from his now tear-stained chest to look at him ‘I know I’m not desirable. I never have been.’

Ben looked at you with a troubled expression, unable to believe that someone so beautiful could be so neglected and feel so unappreciated. He’d had a thing for you since Frankie had first introduced you to them all but he’d never acted on it. You were Frank’s best friend after all. You were off-limits.

‘You’re one of the most beautiful women I know.’ He stated, tucking some of your stray hair behind your ear ‘You deserve the world.’

You stared at each other for a moment, your eyes dropped to his lips and his gaze followed suit. The air shifted as he cupped your cheek with his large hand, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek as your eyes locked with each others' again. Then he leaned in and he kissed you, smiling when you gasped in surprise.

It was soft at first, chaste but as you shifted closer to him, legs straddling his lap, he deepened it and you moaned as your tongues dance. It was then a blur of touches, moans and the removal of clothes but the next moment you were truly aware of was him sheathing himself inside of you, kissing you sweetly as you gasped at the stretch.

‘You okay?’ He asked softly, blue eyes searching for anything that told him you didn’t want this but you simply nodded and pulled him into a hungry kiss.

‘Move please.’ You begged ‘Fuck me, Benny…. Please.’

That's all the permission he needed and he started to cant his hips, pushing himself as deep as he could go before withdrawing and slamming back. His pace was slow at first, unhurried, but as your moans grew filthier and filthier he sped up his thrusts, hitting that sweet spot with every movement.

‘Fuck I’m gonna cum.’ You whined, nails digging into the muscles on his back and it spurred him on ‘Fuck…’

‘Let go.’ He growled against the shell of your ear and you did.

You screamed as he made you cum hard, dragging him right along with you and after a few more thrusts to prolong your high’s he collapsed on the couch beside you, kissing you languidly as he stroked your cheek.

‘Let me take you out.’ He said, bumping your nose with his.

‘Okay.’ You replied, grinning at him as you kissed him again and wrapped your hand around his length, pumping him lazily ‘But first, we’re doing that again.’

~

‘You’re bringing your girlfriend to guys night?’ Questioned Will as he sipped from his beer.

‘I’m crazy about her boys.’ He replied, smiling like a loon as he thought about you.

You’d fucked twice more that night before you’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, the sex that following morning being the best of all. That evening he took you to dinner and then again the day after that and you quickly fell into a relationship that had you feeling happier than you'd ever been. You’d both decided to keep it a secret at first, just take each day as it came but after being together for 4 months you decided that it was time to reveal to the boys but you were scared of how Frankie would react. The two of you hadn’t spoken much after he’d moved out.

‘Fine but if you’re bringing your squeeze then Fish should bring Lucy. Not fair for the poor girl to sit with three guys all night.’

‘Fish? Think Lu would come?’ Asked Benny, eyes wide and eager.

‘Don’t see why not.’ He replied with a shrug ‘She’s wanted to come out with us for ages so…’

‘Great then that's settled.’ Replied Ben, beaming as he sipped his beer.

He just hoped Lu’s presence would take away from the fact his girlfriend was you.

~

You sat in the booth, clinging to Ben’s hand for dear life. Your heart was pulsing in your throat, hands shaking as you watched the door for the others to arrive. Will had texted to say he’d be about an hour late but Frankie had confirmed he was running on time. You'd both decided to arrive a little early to get a round in, a little liquid courage you'd supposed. When Frankie walked in, Lucy behind him you felt your stomach twist in knots.

‘Sorry, we’re a little late.’ He said, not looking up as he shoved his keys in his pocket ‘Traffic was crazy…' He trailed off as he looked up, seeing you at Ben’s side ‘What are you doing here? Where's your girlfriend Ben?’

Ben simply put his arm around your shoulders, smiling at Frankie nervously and giving your hand under the table a squeeze.

‘You two?’ He question, motioning between you both with his pointer finger ‘You two are together?’

‘Yes.’ You replied simply, unable to hide the wobble in your voice.

‘Are you fucking serious?’

‘Fish-.’

‘My best friend Ben… Really?’

‘I’m crazy about her man.’ He stated ‘We kept it quiet because we were scared to tell you but we’ve been dating for coming up to five months so we felt it was time you knew.’

‘I managed to get away early. Boss was… wha-‘ Will’s mouth dropped open when he saw his brother’s arm around your shoulders ‘You two?’

‘Yes us two.’ Growled Ben ‘We’ve been dating for almost five months, things are amazing and we thought it was time to make it public.’ He finished, rolling his eyes.

Frankie was glued to the spot, hands shaking as he stared at Ben’s arm around you and h.e felt something he’d not experienced before with you. Jealousy... and he wanted nothing more than to rip Ben off of you and pull you into his arms.

‘Babe?’ Piped up Lucy as she tugged on his sleeve ‘You want a beer?’

‘Uh - Yeah…’ He replied, shaking his head before slipping down onto the bench beside him ‘Thanks, baby.’

She gave him a sweet peck on the cheek and made her way to the bar, leaving him to return to staring at you and Ben.

‘Well, I for one am over the moon for you both.’ Said Will, grinning ‘You look really good together.’

‘Going to make beautiful babies.’ Ben joked and Frankie felt his stomach drop, noting the glint in your eyes as you beamed at the younger Miller.

‘Bit soon isn’t it?’ Boomed Will, letting out a breath chuckle.

‘Nothing wrong with thinking about the future.’ You stated, sticking your tongue out at Will before turning your head towards Ben and kissing him sweetly.

Frankie wanted to leave. He didn't want to stay here and watch you kiss his friend but he knew he had no right to be jealous. He was with Lucy. He'd picked her.

~

‘Of all the people you could date, why her?’ Yelled Frank, feeling his anger overflowing ‘Why her Ben?’

‘Why does it matter?’ He shouted back.

‘She’s my best friend!’

‘Who you’ve barely seen since you moved out!’ Spat Ben ‘She was so fucking depressed man. You’d left and she felt so alone. Did you ever show her that you appreciated what she did for you when you lived with her? Tell her she was beautiful? Tell her what she meant to you? Because she thinks she is the plain friend, doomed to be alone.’ Ben paused, scrubbing his hand over his face as he glanced at the restroom door ‘I have been into her for years. I held off because I knew she was your best friend but I couldn’t hold back any longer. She’s amazing and I’m falling hopelessly in love with her Fish. She deserves the world and I intend to give that to her.’

Frankie stood there with his mouth agape. He’d realised at that moment how selfish he’d been. He’d never made you feel appreciated, loved. He’d ignored your pain and now he knew that fact his mind was replayed the moments it had slipped out. He’d been so blind to it but now it was too late. He was too late.

Frankie Morales was in love with you… and he’d lost you to Ben.

When they'd returned to the table, Frankie had remained fairly silent as he desperately tried to quieten the anguish in his heart. He wished he'd never realised what he felt, he wished he'd remained ignorant of it but he knew he didn't really love Lucy. He never had.

~

Your heart raced with a mixture of nerve and excitement as Ben fucked you against the wall of the locker room. You could have been caught at any moment but you'd found yourself begging him for it before he’d lifted you by the back of your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing your underwear to the side and slipping his throbbing length into your heat, silencing your moans with his mouth.

‘You gotta be quiet for me baby.’ He whispered, lust blown eyes locked with yours ‘Fuck you’re so beautiful.’ He panted as he rocked his hips, hitting that spot perfectly with each thrust of his strong hips.

‘F-fuck.’ You moaned, biting your bottom lip to stifle the filth that wanted to slip from your lips.

You could feel yourself fast approaching your orgasm and you latched onto his shoulders as your forehead fell against his, eyes remaining fixed on him

‘I love you.’ You whispered, smiling at the grin that swept across his face.

‘Fuck… I love you too baby.’ He replied, increasing his pace as he desperately tried to make you cum before him.

…

Frankie stepped into the locker room but stopped in his tracks when he heard it. Laboured breathing, stifled moans and he peeked around one of the lockers to see Ben fucking you against the wall. Your forehead was resting against his, mouth hanging open, knuckles white as you gripped onto his shoulders.

Then he heard it.

‘I love you.’

‘Fuck… I love you too baby.’

He managed to drag himself away after that, ears just catching your moans as you climaxed and he felt his heart break. Seeing you with him like that being the final nail in the coffin for him.

…

You couldn’t hold back the pleasured sob that escaped your lips as he made you cum, his release following straight behind yours and you kissed his deeply as you clutched onto him tightly, willing your heart to slow.

‘Fuck that was hot,’ Chuckled Ben as he lowered you to your feet ‘Good thing the boys didn’t arrive early.’

‘Would you have stopped?’ You question as you gave him a devilish grin.

‘Not sure I’d be capable of stopping.’ He replied ‘You feel too good.’

‘Mmm good answer.’ You replied as you pulled up your panties and kissed him sweetly ‘Love you.’ You said against his lips ‘Feels good to tell you that.’

‘Feels good to hear it.’ He replied, kissing the tip of your nose.

‘Look who I found making a run for it.’ Stated Will as he emerged from behind the lockers, arm slung around Frankie’s shoulders.

‘Where were you going?’ Asked Ben as he sat on one of the benches in the centre of the room and started to wrap his hands ready for the fight.

‘I uh…’ His eyes locked with yours and you saw something in them that makes your stomach twist Did he see us?

‘I don’t feel well.’ He stated, lifting his cap to adjust his hair underneath.

‘Nothing a beer can't fix.’ Will stated, pulling Frankie towards him and started to head to the ring ‘Meet you guys in there.’

You nod, watching as he led Fish away and then you turned to Ben with a mortified expression.

‘What?’ He asked upon seeing it.

‘I think he saw us.’ You replied plainly, hands shaking as you studied Ben’s reaction.

‘Fuck.’

~

You were dragged away from Ben’s lips by a knock at the door, the younger Miller groaning as you got off of his lap and padded across the room to your front door, taken aback by who you found standing there.

‘Lucy?’

‘Is Frankie here?’ She asked, her tone a little panicked.

You took her in. She looked unwell, a familiar gloss coating her eyes and you knew she was high.

‘No.’ You replied plainly, unable to hide your distaste at the state she was in ‘Why?’

‘We broke up a few weeks ago.’ She started, taking both you and Ben by surprise as he came up behind you ‘We’ve been texting the past few days. He was sad about something, has been sad for a few months now. He was supposed to come by today to grab the last of his things but he never showed. I tried calling but he isn’t answering. I’m worried about him. Thought maybe he’d come here.’

‘Where has he been living since he moved out?’ Ben asked, snaking his arm around your waist and giving you a friendly squeeze.

‘He found a flat.’

‘What's the address?’ He asked, grabbing the sticky notes and pen from your side table and noting it down as Lucy said it ‘Right. We’ll let you know if we hear from him. Go home and wait. He may still turn up. We’ll go check his apartment.’

Lucy nodded, her whole body trembling from a mixture of worry and need for her next fix. You recognised it, seen Frankie go through it and you felt a flicker of sympathy for her. She did really care about him. Ben called her a cab and saw her off before you both jumped into his truck and headed to the address she had given you, leg bouncing nervously as a terrible feeling washed over you. Your stomach dropped when you arrived, his door wide open and you'd both sprinted inside to find him seizing on the floor as someone, you assumed a neighbour, was on the phone to the emergency services beside him.

‘Frankie.’ You screamed as you fell to his side, cradling his face as his body was rocked with convulsions but Ben was glued to the spot in total shock. You felt sick as you watched his face, eyes rolling back as his seizure seemed to intensify and then it seemed to stop as abruptly as it had started and you sobbed as you rested your forehead against his.

‘Hold on please.’ You begged ‘Help’s coming. Just hold on.’ His breathing becoming more and more laboured.

You were pulled away by Ben as Frankie was then swarmed by medics, the neighbour who’d been there when you'd arrived coming to stand at your side.

‘I heard a scream, like none other I’d heard before, and then a crash.’ She started ‘He’s a nice boy. Gave me a spare key after he managed to lock himself out one night shortly after moving in. I let myself in and he was just laying there…. Then he started to fit and I-.’

‘You did really well... Miss?’

‘Roberts.’ She replied.

‘Well, Miss Roberts. We can’t thank you enough.’ Said Benny as he gave her a friendly smile.

‘Please keep me updated.’ She begged ‘Here’s my number.’ She said as she handed him a card ‘I won’t rest easy until I know he’s okay.’

‘We will.’ He replied, noting you following the gurney out the door ‘I promise.’ He shouted over his shoulder as he followed, leaping into the ambulance and sitting at your side.

The next few hours were a blur. Will arrived at the hospital around half an hour after you and Ben had and now the three of your sat waiting patiently for news. Ben held you tightly, stroking your hair as you clutched to him for dear life. Lips moving in silent prayer.

‘What happened?’ Asked Will, looking at his brother.

‘Lucy turned up asking if we’d seen Fish.’ He started, placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head ‘They broke up like a month ago apparently. He’s been living in town. She gave us his address and when we turned up his neighbour was kneeling beside him as he was having a fucking seizure.’

‘Do you think?’

Ben just widened his eyes, not wanting you to know what he thought. He didn’t think it was right for you to hear it from him if his suspicions were right.

‘Who’s here for Mr Morales?’

‘We are.’ Replied Will as the three of you stood.

‘Is he?’

‘He’s alive.’ He started and you all breathed a sigh of relief ‘But he's lucky to be.’

You all looked up at him with concern and waited for him to elaborate.

‘He overdosed on Morphine.’ He stated and your hand flew up to your mouth ‘It looks to be deliberate. He took enough to cause death. He knew what he was doing.’

‘No Frankie wouldn’t do that.’ You sobbed ‘He wouldn’t try and kill himself.’

'Shhhh.' Hushed Ben as he pulled you into him, stroking your hair in an attempt to soothe you.

‘He went into respiratory distress shortly after arriving but we managed to bring him back. He’s resting now and I’m confident that he’s going to recover. However we recommend that he be sectioned, his files show that he suffers from PTSD and that he’s a recovering cocaine addict. We fear he’s a danger to himself.’

‘No.’ Growled Ben ‘We’ll take care of him.’

‘Ben…’ Will scorned.

‘We’re not having him sectioned.’ He spat ‘We’ll take care of him won’t we baby?’

You nodded without hesitation.

You were allowed to see him a little while later and he’d been awake when you'd arrived but the pain in his eyes had made your stomach twist in knots. The way he’d looked at you made you feel sick to the stomach and you’d almost left, unable to bear seeing him like this.

‘Why Frankie?’ You managed to ask after a short period of silence, taking a seat beside his bed and taking his hand in yours.

‘I couldn’t do it anymore.’ He replied, choking on a sob that fell from his lips.

‘Do what?’

‘I realised too late.’

‘Frankie, what are you talking about?’ You pushed, brows furrowed in confusion.

‘I realised too late and now you love him.’

Your stomach dropped and you withdrew your hand.

‘I’m in love with you Arce.’ He declared ‘It hurts knowing you’re with him. That you love him.'

‘What are you saying Francisco?’ You grumbled ‘Are you telling me you tried to kill yourself because I’m with Ben?’

He didn’t say a word but you could read it in the look he was giving you.

‘Arce-.’

‘No, fuck you, Frankie.’ You spat, clutching your stomach as your sobs overthrew you ‘I’ve been in love with you since high school. I've borne the pain of loving someone that didn’t love me back for over a decade. It fucking hurt but never did I tried to take my own life because I couldn’t have you.’ You paused and his mouth dropped ‘Not even when you told me that when you met Lucy you'd found someone you could "be yourself around"... Those words cut me to the bone but I pushed past it and supported you. Ben is wonderful to me. He loves me. Makes me feel like a goddess. So the fact you "realised" you were in love with me after Ben and I got together… Well, that’s just shit Frankie because I love Ben. I’m finally happy after so long. This...’ You point at him and the hospital room around him ‘What you did was fucking selfish. I don’t- I can’t-.’

‘Arca.’

‘I need to leave.’ You sobbed as you got to your feet and sprinted from the room, not even stopping when Ben called your name.

You couldn’t stay here a moment longer. Not after he'd told you, you were the reason he tried to take his own life. He'd gone too far now.

~

Frankie moved in with the Miller brother for a little while after leaving the hospital. You’d avoided him, but you hadn’t told Ben what he’d said in the hospital. He’d tried to call, send several texts but you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to speak to him. He'd destroyed whatever had been left of your friendship the moment he'd swallowed those pills.

‘Fish’s really worried about you baby.’ He said softly, brushing his nose against yours ‘Baby he’s a mess. He's desperate to speak to you.’

‘I can’t.’ You replied.

‘Why the fuck not?’ Growled Ben, head shooting back ‘You two have been friends forever. He almost died baby. He needs his friends.’

‘Ask him why he did it.’ You growled, eyes darkening ‘Ask him why and then you’ll understand why I can’t speak to him.’

So that’s exactly what Ben did and Fish had been honest in answering him, leaving Ben in an impossible position.

‘The fuck you mean you’re in love with her?’ He yelled, instantly regretting raising his voice when Fish flinched ‘Is this why you freaked when you found out?’

‘No… Yes…. Sort of.’ He grumbled as he scraped a hand over his face ‘I didn’t realise until I saw your arm around her that I was… and always had been in love with her.’

Ben collapsed onto the couch, his stomach dropping.

‘She said she’d loved me since high school. I’d been blind to it until she had told me and then it had become so painfully obvious.’ He paused, eyes locking with Bens ‘But I’ve lost her to you now. She loves you.’ He hiccups ‘She deserves to be with a guy like you.’

‘Fish…’

‘Ben please.’ He begged, raising his hand to silence him ‘I know what I did was selfish but I was in a hole so deep I saw no way out. Now I’ve lost her completely.’ He threw his head into his hands and sobbed ‘I’ve fucked everything up so badly.’

From that day Ben made it his mission to repair your broken friendship. He had eventually managed to sit the two of you down, making you the both of you talk and after the two of you finally got the truth out there you were able to start to repair the tattered remains of your relationship the two of you had once treasured so much. You’d offered to let him move in again, something that Ben had actually suggested one evening over dinner. Things had been a little awkward at first, especially on the nights when Ben stayed over but as the days faded into weeks. Weeks into months. You found that you were able to fall back into the routine you'd had before, with Ben being an added extra. You'd blinked and a year had passed, your relationship with the younger Miller getting stronger and stronger. He'd moved in with you soon after the anniversary, something that Frankie appeared to take well but little did you know it was eating him alive under the surface. The selfish part of him had hoped that by the two of you living together again, that he'd have a chance to woo you but you were too in love with Ben. He'd never stood a chance. So as the months went on, Ben became more permanent and as time went on you both talked of the future, of what you both so desperately wanted.

‘I’m going to miss you.’ Ben panted against your lips as he thrust himself deep into your heat, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you as you arched your back to urge him deeper ‘Fuck I’m going to miss you so much.’

‘I’ll miss you too.’ You whined ‘Fuck… Ben.’ You pleaded as your hands grasped at his toned ass ‘Harder… please.’

He did as you asked, increasing his pace and you moaned loudly before throwing your head back in a silent scream. It didn’t take long for him to make you cum for the third time since you'd started, growling against the shell of your ear as you bit down on his shoulder to muffle your scream.

‘Fuck baby.’ He grunted, thrusting half a dozen more times before filling you with his cum. ‘Pillow.’ He said and you grabbed one for him, raising your hips so he could slide it under.

‘You think it’ll take?’ You asked, smiling at him warmly.

‘God I hope so.’ He said as he placed a kiss on your stomach ‘Can’t wait to see you round with my baby in your belly.’

‘You’re cute.’ You giggled, pulling him into a kiss ‘Do you have to go?’

‘You know I do baby.’ He said softly, kissing you softly ‘But I promise I will be back here as soon as I can. Fish’ll take good care of you whilst I’m gone.’

‘Three weeks is such a long time.’

‘I know but think about it this way… When I come back, we can do a test and hopefully.’ He pauses to kiss you sweetly ‘It will tell us we’re going to have a family.’

‘Well, when you put it that way.’ You grinned ‘Perhaps we should do it at least once more… Just to be sure.‘

‘God yes.’ He growled as he kissed you deeply again, feeling himself growing hard again.

‘I read that doggy is an excellent position for conceiving.’ You stated, looking at him seductively 'Allows for deeper penetration.'

‘God I love you.’ He growled as he flipped you onto your front, kissing up your spine as you got onto your hands and knees.

‘Put a baby in me, Benny.’ You begged, wiggling your ass a little as you grinned at him over your shoulder.

‘Would be my pleasure.’ He purred as he pushed himself into your heat again, groaning in unison with you.

The pace he set this time was mind-numbing, the sound of his hips slapping against you only making you more aroused. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pounded into you and you felt the coil inside you start to tighten, threatening to snap at any moment.

‘Touch yourself.’ He ordered and you shivered at the pleasure his command brought you and slipped your hand down your body and began to rub the bundle of nerves between your thighs, crying out as he started to hit your sweet spot over and over.

‘Fuck baby I’m close.’ He whined, gripping you tighter as he sped up again.

‘So am I.’ you replied breathlessly.

‘Good.’ He growled, pounding into you mercilessly and then you cum together before collapsing on the bed with him still very much inside of you.

Pulling out of you he arranged the pillow underneath your belly so your hips were raised, hoping gravity would help the process along.

‘God I can’t wait to have a baby with you.’ He panted as he laid down beside you, stroking your cheek affectionately.

You beamed at him, taking his hand in yours as you came down from your high. You prayed his seed would take, that he would return to the best news in the world. You’d both decided to keep it a secret, for now, wanting to surprise them all but little did you know that Frankie now knew. He’d walked past your door just as you’d asked Ben to put a baby in you and his heart had shattered.

He’d never get you now.

~

Part 2

[thebadchoicemachine]

Despair Suits Ultimate Run-Through

Okay this has been sitting in my drafts for months I’m just posting it because all my drafts are stressing me out.

Wilbur - Ultimate “Guitarist” / Ultimate Distortion (despair) 

- He’s the least true despair oriented out of the family. He loves messing with other people but doesn’t enjoy despair himself, something nobody including himself really realizes until Tommy is dead and he’s pissed because it’s not fun when HE’s the one mourning.

- He works with twisting perceptions and rules against people, there is no true good and all that. You do something nice? Well actually you see it’s cause so much more despair here etc etc.. 

Tommy - Ultimate “Playmate” / Ultimate Pawn (despair) 

- Really just a brainwashed kid hyped up on death and despair because it’s what his family is built off of. He holds it to a religious degree and takes it very seriously.

- He’s the most like Junko out of the despair family, the rules of the game are sacred to him otherwise it’s no fun. He really does his own thing so long as it’s within the goals others have set for him to accomplish. His role is mostly fulfilling other’s plans. He simultaneously has the most and least freedom out of the despair grip, being able to function however pleases so long as he fulfills his task but he is completely obligated to fulfill all and any such tasks.

Tubbo - Ultimate Hazard / Ultimate Hope

- Much like Tommy he’s really just a brain washed kid who is drunk on despair because it’s what his friends do and it’s all he’s ever known.

- Helps him realize the reaason he stuck it out so long was becuase he already had jope, belief and drive that things would be better

Ranboo - Ultimate Journalist (main character) 

- He is a journalist. He tries bis very hardest to be objective while still remaining compassionate and driven.Honestlyy he never intended to become a journalist. He started keeping notes to help himself and ended up submitting one for a school project he procrastinated on. Turns out he’s an excellent story teller as well as truthful, it won a contest and was featured in a paper and before he knew it he was writing for big news full time.

- He doesn’t even accept a lot of pay. His main and constant condition is, so long as everything is factual, his words not he twisted.

Niki - Ultimate “Baker” / Ultimate Agent 

- She was already in the habit of not being upfront with her ultimite so as to be able to just get to know people first. She can work much easier when people don’t think they’re being worked at, if they knew they were going against an ultimate they become eager to prove it wrong so she went by “Ultimate Baker” for most of her life.

- As the Ultimate Agent she is extremely good at conflict resolution and always able to get some kind of goodness through her advocating. Ever since she was a child she found herself to be the only one who stood up for victims. She is very multi-talanted as it takes different things to get different people to listen. The skills she’s built up include a BS detector that’s off the charts, being genuinely one of the friendliest people you’ll ever meet, and being able to kick your ass seven ways to sunday. 

Puffy - Ultimate Pirate 

Schlatt - Ultimate Tycoon 

- Tubbo convinces Puffy Schlatt is going to kill him. Schlatt has actually been very kind and mentor-y to Tubbo. He’s a good fit because his gruff additude isn’t too jarring for despair-washed child to dismiss but he is genuinely helpful at heart. He wants everyone to be safe.

- Tubbo is unerved by this shift in views happening to him and half-truthfully vents his feelings of unsafeness to Puffy, who posiosn him.

Hannah - Ultimate Florist 

- Famous for growing the best flower garden in the whole country alll by herself, she has a strict rule about anyone else interfering with her plants. Also, generally a plant expert. Knows a lot more than just flowers. She’s strong as hell (maintaining one of the most revered gardens in the whole world by yourself involves a lot of running and lifting) and can also find the perfect blend of colors, smells, and meanings 

Jackstanifold - Ultimate Determination 

- I love the idea of more abstract talents! Like, “Ultimate Moral Compass” sounds really unique but he was actually more like “Ultimate Hall Monitor.”

- He got picked on by adults and other kids alike for not having an “applicable” talent. Determination isn’t like being a Ultimate Baseball Star or Ultimate 

Fundy - Ultimate Game Designer 

- Has several popular games under his belt. 

Sam - Ultimate Guard 

- Actually, he hates his ultimate. He’s strong and scary and can keep people in check sure but he’s also hella fucking smart as well kind and just wants people to be safe and happy. He wished people didn’t focus so much on his enforcement and more on his protecting.

Purpled - Ultimate Astronomer 

- Actually spends most of his time playing sports, he’s very athletic and wanted to play something professionally but his knack for the stars kind of dragged him away. He doesn’t mind too much though, he really does love space!

Quackity- Ultimate Rogue

- It’s like he’s trying to be a Troublemaker™ (like Celest) but ends up more a Fuyuhiko. Albeit without the depressing jumpstart to his turn into genuinely wanting to help.  It’s more of a slow burn. 

Charlie - Ultimate Forensic Chemist 

- Acts as their detective/doctor character 

- He’s in like an uncanny valley of a mad scientist and just some friendly dude. Sure, he experiments plenty (to the point it’s questioned why he’s forensic specifically or chemist specifically) but his speciality as an actual successful sciencest is in forensics chemist. 

Karl - Ultimate Astrologer 

- Sort of works like Angie but less... awful. He’s more genuine and happy and understands other’s opinions and skepticism. 

- Honestly he more psychoanalyzes people and sort of personalizes some therapy then he does fret about their starsigns. 

Sapnap - Ultimate Arsonist 

- He is very proud of his flame abilities. He holds a “No one gets hurt unless I want them too.” Attitude about his fires. He knows just how to make a flame worse or better and was consulted in several forms be it weapons, demolition, or prevention. Basically, dude knows everything about fire. 

George - Ultimate Model 

- Not necessarily a model for his looks, rather his appeal. He just has a face people apparently love. Companies would play vast sums of money for him to pose with their product as it seems whatever he was attached to would sell like hot cakes. Even when he was a child his school made him sit alone in front of their stand as a mascot instead of working with everyone else.

Eret - Ultimate Aspirant 

- Kind of the other side to Jack’s coin. He earned his ultimate title because  no matter what he was put in he worked his hardest in and improves tremendously, not always beyond others of course but he himself gets better than he was. He as a mind and a drive for success.  

Dream - Ultimate Prey 

- Ultimate prey. Governments from all over the world would drag him into their battlefields to test their powers. He’d been shot several times actually but no one ever managed to catch him.

[twdbegins]

could I possibly get Simon x fem!reader angst where Simon and her are in love but she doesn’t know the extent of what the saviors do to other groups and when she finds out she considers running away from the sanctuary and she feels guilty because she loves him so much but she’s horrified at the thought of what the saviors are capable of? thank u I’m in love with your blog so much

Of course! Thank you so much! :) Thanks for requesting!

__

How Fast It Can Change

Simon x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, Sexual implications.

Word Count: 2,582

“It doesn’t matter. You still did it.”

__

The Sanctuary was perfect. Too perfect. They had endless supplies, food, basic survival resources. Everything was well put together for the most part, and things usually ran smoothly. You had grown to love living here. You had made friends and acquaintances, as well as gained a lover along the way. You weren’t shy to admit that Simon sealed the deal for you.

The thought of spending everyday with him was enough for you to accept a full time commitment to this place. You had a nice bedroom, plenty of food, a steady job, and a social life of sorts. Having Simon as a boyfriend was the cherry on top. 

You had become quite the item around the Sanctuary. If someone saw Simon, odds were that you were close by, and vice versa. In a way, you were kind of like that one high school couple always running around. Everyone knew you were together, and no one dared to try and break it up. You fell in love quickly, and you were convinced there was nothing in the world that would’ve changed your mind.

His kisses were warm on your skin as he peppered your neck, stirring you from your deep sleep. You inhaled deeply, pushing him away for waking you so early. He had always been more of a morning person than you, so your response wasn’t surprising. His kisses stopped, and you almost fell back asleep before you felt him pulling you back to him and nibbling on your ear. 

You let out an annoyed groan, burying your head into the crook of his neck. He chuckled in a groggy voice. 

“Good morning to you too, baby.” He said sarcastically.

You huffed, wincing at the feel of his facial hair on your cheek.

“It’s so early.” You complained. 

“It’s 6:30.” He replied. 

“I concur.” You sneered.

He laughed again, turning to face the other way, but stopped when you whined in protest. 

“Oh, now you want me?” He asked as if he hadn’t just tried to shower you with attention. 

He brought you into his arms once more, content that you weren’t squirming away anymore. His nose was buried in your hair, and he was really beginning to dread having to get up soon.

“When will you be back?” You asked.

Simon was leaving with Negan and a few other Saviors for a “run of sorts” as Simon had explained it. Something felt fishy about it, but you tried not to ask too many questions. Negan didn’t really go on runs unless it was something major.

“Probably Thursday.” Simon replied.

Your eyes opened wider at that. It was currently Tuesday, which meant they’d only be gone for two days. Something was definitely up.

“That’s all?” You questioned, leaning up on your elbow to look at him better.

He scoffed.

“Well don’t sound so disappointed about it.” He joked.

“No, I mean that runs usually take a lot longer.” You pointed out.

Simon shrugged. Truth was, Simon wasn’t really 100% sure of what they were going to be doing. Although, he had a pretty good idea, and he thought it would be best to leave you out of it.

“It’s just a short run I guess. I don’t really know what to tell you.” He said, hoping you wouldn’t keep dwelling on this conversation.

There was a lot that went on around the Sanctuary that you didn’t know about. Simon saw all the ins and outs of how Negan ran this place, and had become very desensitized to it all. Simon didn’t really have a great radar between what was right and what was wrong anymore. Ever since getting involved with Negan, things had become pretty blurred. 

“You gonna stay busy while I’m gone?” He queried, changing the subject himself.

“Aren’t I always?” You wondered.

“When you’re not late.” He declared.

You laughed out loud, feeling much more awake now.

“Okay, so I’m late MAYBE once a week. If you didn’t keep me up so late then I wouldn’t sleep in.” You argued.

He smirked at that, sitting up to be level with you.

“This is the first time I’ve heard you complain about that.” He said, leaning to kiss you.

You kissed him back before he pulled away.

“Things change, you know.” You said with a nod.

“That they do, darlin’.” 

His alarm clock went off finally, signaling that it was really time for him to get up. He let out a growl, reaching to silence the screaming clock. He looked at you again, a devious smile playing across his features. 

“How about a quickie before I go to work?” He suggested coyly.

You hummed thoughtfully.

“Now who’s gonna be late for work?”

He laughed at your cheekiness, tackling you back onto the mattress, earning an excited shriek from you. He kissed you wildly, your hands roaming over his toned midriff. He hovered over you, stopping only for a moment to look into your eyes.

“I love you.” He purred.

“I love you, Si.” You replied before kissing him again and starting his morning off right.

Simon went to join Negan and his selected crew not long after, prepared for the next couple days ahead. You couldn’t pinpoint it, but the entire time that Simon was gone, you had a weird feeling in your chest. You felt like something horrible was going on, but you couldn’t identify what it was. Everything was business as usual around the Sanctuary, but something in the air was bugging you. 

It wasn’t until they returned on Thursday night that you discovered what it was. And it almost made you physically sick. A group of Saviors had passed you in the hall when you caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Negan apparently obliterated the guy. His brains were squashed out all over the place,” The first Savior claimed; “Right next to his wife too.”

“No kidding! I heard the first guy didn’t even make a sound when Negan “Lucilled” him.” 

You had heard that term before. Everyone knew about Negan’s famous weapon of choice. A baseball bat adorned with barbed wire. It was a nasty weapon that could do some serious damage. You had only heard people refer to it when talking about walkers, but you had a bad feeling that they weren’t talking about the dead. 

You stopped in your tracks. Surely...Negan hadn’t done that to a person. What did they mean by “the first guy”? How many people were involved with this? You did a full 360 and went back the direction you had come from, suddenly not interested in seeing Simon anymore. Your mind was reeling, and you caught yet another conversation from a different set of Saviors.

“It was brutal. My stomach almost couldn’t take it.” A voice that you knew to be Arat spoke out.

“At least it wasn’t another Oceanside situation. Simon was fucking nuts for pulling that stunt.” The older man she was talking to piped up.

You felt your blood run cold. What the hell was Oceanside? What did Simon have to do with it? You knew there was one person you could get some straight answers from. Richie was a pretty laid back guy. Never really got in the way, but was loyal to Negan. One thing you liked about him was that he always told it to you straight. 

As much as you loved that, it made the news so much harder. 

Turns out the “run” wasn’t really a run at all. Negan was scoping out a group in a little community called Alexandria. Negan had rounded them up execution style and brutally killed two of their members. Apparently, they had even taken one of them prisoner. Negan was going to start taking a portion of their resources for the Sanctuary and was planning on stripping them of all their weapons. Negan had even tried to get one of them to cut off his own son’s arm.

As gruesome as that was to hear, that wasn’t the worst of it. 

You asked Richie about Oceanside, and for the first time, Richie was apprehensive to answer. He almost seemed...sympathetic. Eventually, you squeezed it out of him. Part of you wished you hadn’t said anything. 

Richie said it was more of a rumor than anything, but that a few years ago, Simon had apparently wiped out an entire community in one go. People of all ages and backgrounds. Just completely disposed of them all. Negan had seriously considered throwing Simon out on his ass after that, but ultimately decided he was worth a second chance. 

You weren’t sure what was worse. The fact that he had killed an entire community or the fact that he did it without being told to. 

You left Richie in a fog, taking short and shallow breaths because you felt as if you were about to puke up everything you had eaten in the last three weeks. You needed time to process this, and you wanted to be as far away from Simon as possible. 

You returned to your room. You’d be sleeping on your own for the first time in forever. The moment your door was closed, you slid down the back of it and let out a gut wrenching sob, burying your head in between your knees. 

Could the man you loved so much really not be who you thought he was?

You didn’t sleep for the next three days. Words and disturbing images flashing through your head on an endless loop. You stayed away from Simon, Negan, Arat, or anyone that had been there. This was killing you to think that you were involved with a place that did these kinds of things. 

You didn’t want to be involved with that. That was so far from your moral compass that it gave you a headache. The thought of leaving crossed your mind in passing the first time. You could just get up and leave without a trace. No one would ever know when or why. Negan could find someone to replace your job. Someone who had more of a stomach for this sort of thing. There was only one thing keeping you from walking out right that second.

Simon. 

Despite how horribly you felt about this, you still loved him. Undeniably, you’d love him until you couldn’t anymore. He was the greatest thing that had ever happened to you...but you didn’t know if you could live knowing he had such a hand in the way Negan ran this place. You would never be able to justify the way Simon killed all those people. You wouldn’t be able to feel his touch the same again without thinking about what other horrid things he had done with his hands. You couldn’t look into his eyes anymore without wondering how many people he had seen take their last breath.

You’d never see him the same again.

It was hurting you. The thought of leaving him without saying anything. Knowing him, he’d go out looking for you the moment he knew you were gone. So, you decided to tell him, even if it hurt 100x more. Turns out, you didn’t have to go far to find him.

A knock on your door sounded out about midnight. You knew it was him before you even opened the door. You hadn’t seen him in days, and you hadn’t spent a day apart since you had arrived a year ago. It was only a matter of time before he came to find you. You took a breath before opening the door, to reveal a very worried Simon. 

You felt your heart sink into your shoes. This was going to be the hardest thing you had ever done. He looked at you through bleary, red eyes. He had been crying, and his demeanor told you everything he needed to know. 

He knew that you knew.

“[Y/N]...” He breathed out. 

You didn’t say anything. You fought the tears that were threatening to fill your eyes, you didn’t want to cry anymore. 

“I can’t stay here anymore.” You confessed, just above a whisper.

His fears had turned out to be correct. Every neuron in his body shut off and restarted it felt like. He was going to use everything in him, every nerve, cell, vessel, and fiber to fight for you. He couldn’t let you just leave.

“Let me explain.” He said, entering your room.

You closed the door slowly. You weren’t in the mood for excuses.

“You murdered them, Si,” You sighed; “You wiped them out like they were nothing.” 

He let out a shaky breath. He had no way to defend himself. Even he couldn’t defend what he had done.

“That was a long time ago.” He said truthfully.

You shook your head.

“It doesn’t matter. You still did it.” You said calmly. You couldn’t have screamed even if you wanted to.

He was at a loss. He really knew that this was probably it. He couldn’t even blame you for it. 

“And then you just watched...and let Negan kill two innocent people? And then allowed Negan to further traumatize that boy?” You asked incredulously; “He’s a kid, Simon.” 

Tears were streaming both of your faces now. You weren’t looking at him. Your head was lowered and you stared at the tips of your shoes. Your heart was beginning to crack. The more you spoke, the deeper it went. Your voice cracked in sorrow, and your head ached.

“The worst part is even after all that...I still fucking love you,” You admitted; “Do you know how messed up that is?”

He almost chuckled, but he knew better than to. It wasn’t an amused laugh by any means, but he knew what you meant. He walked carefully towards you, standing just a foot or so in front of you. You refused to look at him still.

“We can move past this.” He said, in a final attempt to get you to stay.

You looked at him finally, because you really wanted to read his expression for this.

Your heart panged in your chest

“Can we?” You asked seriously.

His hesitation and lack of an answer told you that he really didn’t know. The fact that there was any question at all was enough for you. You had to leave. You brushed past him to grab your backpack. 

Your heart cracked a little more.

You slung it on your shoulders. He wasn’t putting up a fight, because he knew it was over. You stopped in front of him once more, looking into his watery eyes. If nothing else, you wanted to give him a proper goodbye. Even if he didn’t deserve it.

You kissed him. 

It was deep and slow and full of hurt. It was the most painful kiss you had ever had. He knew it was the last time. He’d likely never see you again. Never feel your skin or wake you up in the mornings by leaving kisses on your neck. 

This was it.

You pulled away first. Not looking at him again. You had to leave now before you were tempted to stay. You walked past him and out your bedroom door, leaving behind your greatest and only love you’d ever know. The door closed with a loud echo. 

Your heart completely broke. 

You cried and cried as you walked out of the Sanctuary. One single thought running through your mind over and over. 

Things really could change.

[onisiondrama]

Onision on Kermit and Friends - March 21, 2021

(This video only has 59 views on Youtube. This is probably the smallest audience I've seen for an Onision interview.)

Summary Part 1

The host seems to be a fan of Onision and the co-host says she saw the documentary so she is well aware of Onision, but the show is a safe space and they don't judge.

Host says her and Andy talked about The Banana Song all night.

Host really like that Onision said not to focus at negativity. Says he only focuses on positivity and he's an amazing guy.

The co-host jokes that they will "do the Onision thing" and shave Andy's head, make him film videos, then maybe he'll change his sex.

Andy can't figure out how to join the show.

James joins. It appears he is in his new house.

The host says he said "goodbye" 2 months ago. James says during one of his more dramatic moods. The host asks what inspired him to say goodbye to all of his fans? He says when you work at something for 12 years and it gets torn away from you, you want to take a break. Host asks why it was taken. James says he likes the question. He says the reason why people are losing content these days is cancel culture. Says people have share holders in the stock market and a risk of being canceled themselves and people attack everything they're associated with. He says recently David Dobrik was canceled and he was losing sponsorships because the company doesn't want to go down with them. The companies don't want to lose business when they see someone they sponsor is being boycotted. He says it's business smart, but morally disagreeable.

James says the Discovery+ documentary called for him to be removed from the internet.

Andy appears. Andy says it's a horrible situation for James to be in and tells him he will do fine. James says he fears for the host and Andy because they aren't taking the position of "Anti-Onision" and anyone who goes against them becomes the target of that community. Andy says he doesn't care and he's sticking up for Onision. James laughs and says Andy has his own extensive celebrity experience so he understands how things work in "the biz. "

The host says everyone is at risk of getting canceled and saying anything can get you canceled these days. She says she was pissed off when she watched the documentary because everyone had groupies who want to sleep with them. They come after him and want him, he ignored them, they kept coming, and now he's at fault? Says now he is canceled and Andy is already canceled. She asks who is not in danger of being canceled at this point?

James says people told him not to go on the stream because of Andy Dick. James laughs and says he was told he couldn't work with Andy. He says people hold serial killers and people who make people upset at the same level. He says they have no gauge for morality, it's all the same to them. Says when you cancel someone for being a law abiding citizen who does things by the book and ignore someone who isn't famous and does horrible things, it shows your priorities. He says it's not about right and wrong, it's about who will bring more attention to me and make me look better.

The host asks James to show her one guy who would decline an offer from a hot fan to meet up. Andy points to himself as she's saying this. James says he thinks there is a significant misunderstanding to what she thinks he went through. He says there were no groupies or hot fans.

He says 10 years ago he dates a Canadian pop star, but he uses the term pop star loosely because she never got that huge. Says she had one music video that got over 1 million views. He says she dove into his life, contacted him early December 2010. He points out they showed this in the documentary. He says he responded to her something inspirational because she was talking about how she was on the edge of suicide and he wanted to help her. He wanted to be the person he represented in his videos, someone who does suicide awareness, etc. He says full disclosure, he straight up left his spouse for this person. The host asks if this was Skye, his high school sweetheart. James says not exactly. He says he broke up with Skye when they were 18 and 19 or 19 and 19 because he told her he couldn't make her happy. He joined the air force and she would write him letters.

Drunken Peasants comment "Cry is Kai-ing now." is features. James says "nice" and laughs.

He says he saw there were a lot of military benefits to getting married. Skye was his best friend and he thought it would be great to get benefits and bring her wherever he went. Says he married his best friend, then he fell madly in love with Shiloh. Six months prior he threated divorce because she said because they were married, half of his stuff was hers. He says that wasn't the agreement because he asked for a prenup. He told her if she was in this marriage for half of his things, let's get divorced now. He says she said never mind and if they get divorced she wouldn't try to take his stuff.

James says when Shiloh came along he realized what a real relationship was supposed to be like. He says he could talk for 10 hours about this because it's such a thorough and rich story. Andy says you could talk for years about what it's like going after a girl. James laughs and says, "a little sexist there?"

Andy and the host talks about their relationship. The host says other men she's dated didn't like commitment and never proposed to her. The host says James likes commitment. James says he proposed to 4 people in his life. Andy asks if anyone said yes? James says all 4 said yes. Andy asks then why isn't he married to them? James says he's been married 9 years. Andy asks to all 4 of them?

James says he only knew Adrienne from Texas 2 weeks and he proposed to her.

The host says she's been talking to Andy about James all week, but Andy forgets. Andy says he knows, but he won't bring it up. James says he's willing to talk about almost anything. Andy says he loves this kid and the host says she knew he would. She says he has so many amazing videos and she wants Andy to collab with him. James says before he went on, he was joking if Andy was like "you're a POS" and screamed at him, he'd still be a fan. He says Andy is top 5 comedians. James says Andy's still a comedian because he's made millions laugh. Says Andy took social norm and threw it into a woodchipper and does whatever he wants. He says he never saw a comedian with no limits, other than Sacha Baron Cohen. He says some comedians pretend they have no limits, but censor themselves later on. Says Andy seems to be on the same path, which is amazing. Andy thanks him.

Andy starts to get upset with them comments on the live. James asks if there's comments and takes a look. He says "this is great" and announced he will give them a crash course on the internet. He says there is an algorithm that promotes whatever you want to believe, like if you're a conspiracy theorist that believe in aliens. You keep seeing videos about it and it's an endless cycle of telling you you're right. James says Andy would probably laugh at this concept, but they took countless clips from comedy sketches and framed them as if they were from real life. He says there's one clip where he says mean things to someone, but they don't address he's dressed as the Joker and they're dressed as Harley Quinn.

He says he did countless pranks where people thought they were real. He says he did meltdown video series, which was one of his favorite video series ever. He says he rubbed poop on himself, lived in a box, etc. He says people ate it up and believed it was real even though he left hints in the videos that it was fake because they wanted to believe their pre-existing narrative that he was a nut case. He says it was entertaining until someone showed up to his house, then he stopped doing it. They drank the kool aid to the extent that they brought it to real life. (He's talking about Chris Hansen.) The host asks if it's scary to have people show up. He says it is when you have small children. He says when people show up to your house you think these people need mental help because they don't understand this is fiction. The host asks if this is the main reason he said goodbye? He says it was more an assortment of emotions. The host says he's an emotional guy. James says it depends, he could be. He says he's chill until you put someone he loves in danger. He says on camera he is "whatever I wish to be" because being a character is fun.

The host says she saw him go crazy in a few videos and wondered if he was bi-polar or had depression. He laughs and she says that's something she suffers from, so that's why she asking. He asks, you're bi-polar? She says yes. James says he is not. She asks if he has depression or anxiety. He says he has major depressive disorder and he was diagnosed last year so existential crisis happen often with him. Andy says "boo-mother-fucking-hoo." James laughs and says that's the father figure he needed growing up.

The hosts says she knows his parents divorced when he was 2. She asks if that affected him. He says "probably." She asks if it affected his relationships because he seems to have volatile relationships. She says she's in one currently. Andy asks what does she mean? She says sometimes Andy calls her a cunt. James laughs and says "yeah." James asks if it's a comedian thing to call people cunts? She says it didn't sound very comical. James says he wouldn't take it personally because what matters is if they stand by you, don't hurt you physically, that they give you love, and they don't say anything out of pure hate.

Andy shows a pill to the camera and takes it. The host asks what it was and Andy says muscle relaxer. James looks a little shocked, but mostly amused.

They have fans on to ask James questions. The first one asks if he really chained a girl in his basement. James says that's another thing the conspiracy mill musters up and no one was chained in his basement. The fans says he doesn't get why they would demonetize him because his channels were dead and he wasn't making any money. James says he was actually making money, he was solidly making a living and it was taken away.

The fans asks about the 14 year old James and Kai groomed, he says he's not saying it's true but he was wondering. James says it's not true and that person ( Sarah ) swore on their grandmother's life it wasn't true. He says if you to to Onision.com/IRL it has videos footage and texts of them saying they were not. The fans asks if James thinks he could sue YouTube for suspending him for offline behavior. James says it's hard to find a lawyer that would not mind being bombarded by negative reviews. He says cancel culture affects people with actual jobs too.

The host talks about how she and Andy are trying to find Andy a new place to live. She jokingly says with Onision. James says he's not in an entertainment-friendly place to live. The host asks what he means. He says LA is more relevant. The host asks why he doesn't live somewhere like LA. James says he's more of a rain and clouds person. The host says she always thought he would make a great actor. He says going to LA feels like his eye are being melted.

Another fan comes on. She says she grew up watching Onision and used to be a Patreon of his on and off for a couple of years, but she's more indifferent now. She says she already knows both sides of everything, but she thinks it''s a lot of it is bull crap. She says as someone with a similar mental disorder as said person- she understand why they would flip like that, but it's extremely shitty. James says he wasn't the person who went through all of the horrible things. Yes, he was demonetized and lost a means to make a living off other platforms, but the person they betrayed was the person he's married to. Kai didn't insult or engage, or do anything bad to anyone ever. The fact that their life got ripped apart makes him feel bad that he ever spoke to them. They have a family so it's hard to regret that. He says that's the only person anyone should feel bad for. He kicked someone out of his life, then he made passive aggressive videos about dating people and it leading to the same result. That person took it personally and lashed out. He triggered them and they attacked. Kai did nothing wrong.

They get into a bit(?) about Andy cheating on the host and her exposing him with a video. James just kind of sits there and watches.

The host asks if James is in a committed relationship with his wife. James says Kai is transgender and identifies as a guy. He says he heard the person earlier that implied he changes people's scientific genders. He says he was confused by that. The host just says "yeah" and there's a bit of a pause. James says they are in a committed relationship. She says he used to bring in other people. He says he is committed, but sometimes they were not exclusive. She asks if he has threesomes and orgies. He says not orgies.

They bring in another guest. She says she is new to him, but is familiar with cancel culture. She says it has to have been hard for him and his family. She asks what advice she has for people dealing with this. He says to not engage with anyone. He says people would do things that were illegal and a danger to his family so he kicked them out of his life. He completely isolate himself from them and they would try to hurt him. He says when you are in the public eye and you have a falling out with someone they can destroy you by spreading rumors. He says the Youtuber Anthony Padilla was terrified of getting into a relationship because he didn't want it to go south and his life to be destroyed. He says if you get in a relationship with someone, don't get out of it.

[siberlius-moving]

i know i said no essay bUT HERE’S A LONG ONE

- spoilers for beast au ahead -

BEAST: On being human and alive

What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to be living? 

The characters here refer to Beast AU’s characters, but I will specify when I am referring to the main universe’s respective characters.

Dazai and Akutagawa: what is a beast? who is the beast?

Dazai in the Beast AU, having glimpsed into the alternate universes, had concocted an elaborate plan to ‘save’ an universe where Odasaku got to write his novel. I would like to think, that this Dazai saw the lives of other Dazais who had left the Port Mafia and lived a purposeful life where he could genuinely be a good person and help others, surrounded by people he cares about and who also genuinely care for him (thus, in spite of all the suicide jokes, Dazai in main universe is actually clinging onto life pretty tightly). But Dazai in the Port Mafia was still a person who hadn’t learnt to appreciate human life as being something more than the act of moving and breathing. As smart as he was, he hadn’t had the maturity to understand empathy, sympathy, and the value of having connection with others. Main universe’s Dazai, in fact, is still learning to do so. He has a long way to go, but you realise that it is his connections with people like Oda, Atsushi and the ADA that give him purpose to live another day, and help him be so much more successful in pulling off his schemes since people actually trust and open up to him. You can argue that he would still have been successful being his old Port Mafia self, except with a lot more deaths and violence. But, he would have lived a very short life. Which, was what happened in the Beast AU. 

Beast AU’s Dazai, latching onto the regret of main universe’s Dazai, and encouraged by his own lack of will to live in his present life, decided that this universe didn’t matter (since he technically had already ‘lived’ in other timelines) and set on a path to help Oda finish writing a novel. It is incredibly selfish, because for everyone else, this was the only life they ever had, would ever lived. By the end of the book, Dazai realised this. He got called out by Oda for it. In their one and only meeting, Oda noted that Dazai was almost childlike in the way he tried to recreate a friendship that never existed. When Oda told Dazai that they were not friends and that he would do everything in his power to get Akutagawa back, Dazai understood. At the last stage of his grand plan, where he was to die, it had seemed like he got what he wanted - Oda had his book written and had led a nice life after all. But was it really what Dazai wanted? Was he not just slave to the main universe’s Dazai’s wishes? 

Akutagawa in Beast AU isn’t very much different from Akutagawa in the main universe, at least until Dazai came about and changed everything. Dazai in the Beast AU, had become the Port Mafia boss at a really young age. All the immaturity and issues mentioned above get ramped up here. He controlled the port mafia with an iron fist. I would think it was harder for him, because at least for Mori, he had years to build his way up. The rumours that Dazai killed Mori to usurp his position made it harder for Dazai to consolidate his power. He knew that he needed multiple figures of fear to rule. In the main universe, Dazai was an executive who didn’t know the existence of Atsushi. Akutagawa was the only one he could mould into a similar role he was looking for. Thus, Beast AU’s Dazai went to Akutagawa first. 

But in the main universe, Dazai realised too late that Akutagawa was too 'wild’. He was a blunt kind of mass weapon of destruction, too much of a wild card. In any case, Dazai was just an executive then, and Akutagawa served his purpose most of the time, and Mori had a good range of competent supporters he could use. Chuuya actually respected and was extremely loyal to Mori. In the Beast AU, Dazai didn’t have that kind of support. But he needed one, controllable weapon from the shin soukoku for his future plans. He tested Akutagawa by letting him kill all the gang members (in the main universe, Dazai had them killed as a ‘gift’ to Akutagawa to entice him to join Port Mafia). Akutagawa killed them extremely brutally, almost animalistically. Too wild for Dazai’s needs. That was okay, because Atsushi was perfect, and Dazai knew of Atsushi’s existence. Atsushi had a moral compass and knew right from wrong. He was only uncontrollable when influenced by his ability and he turned into a tiger, but this can be managed by a brutal spiked choker around his neck. His conscience, along with his fragile mentality, allowed Dazai to perfectly control his actions by using said conscience against Atsushi, without the unpredictable risks that Akutagawa posed.

Here’s the important thing: Dazai thought that Akutagawa was a ‘beast’. A beast is a thing controlled by its nature. It cannot be controlled by anything else besides a severe master. It is dangerous, it is wild, it is irrational, but it is innocent. After all, it is only doing what its instincts call for it to do. How can one be guilty, when it does not know what it is doing is wrong? If it is evil, then all it knows is evil deeds. Nothing one does can change it. After all, Akutagawa was inclined towards destruction, and he was talented in it. He tends towards irrational destruction with utter disregard for his or others’ lives. Gin was injured while saving Akutagawa during the massacre, and he abandoned her for mindless, hopeless revenge. This fact was used against Akutagawa - Dazai rejected him over it and took Gin away. Dazai told Gin that Akutagawa had abandoned her for violence and would abandon her again because when it came down to it, he was a destructive beast who cannot ignore his nature and he cannot love the way normal humans do. Akutagawa proved Dazai’s point when he attacked Atsushi for calling him out on this, even though Atsushi was leading him to Gin. Gin, out of resentment and love, left Akutagawa so that Akutagawa could live on, like he was a wolf that belonged to the forest.

But Dazai was wrong. Akutagawa had lived in environments that had shaped him to be extremely reactive, violent and constantly on survival mode. He would react to threats with immediate violence. But that did not make him inherently a beast. Even he had nothing, he acted as a protector for the children, and led them as much as he could. After Oda found him, offered him food and shelter and gave him a chance to live a life beyond constant survival, he flourished. He bonded with Tanizaki over the love of their sisters. He agreed to ADA’s conditions for helping him find his sister even though he could have simply attacked them for answers. When Kenji showed him the rice plains he was enraptured by the sight. He learnt to plant rice with Kenji and had continued to help him with farming even when he had no reason to help him. He sucked at paperwork but was really good at keeping with Kunikida’s schedules and helping him track and catch criminals (and without killing them!). He helped Oda babysit 15 kids by making playgrounds, showing up for their PTAs and helping them be more confident in school. When he had the opportunity, he could choose to be kind. When he had the patient guidance of a loving community, he could learn from them and change. (Minor scene at the start of the novel: When Akutagawa gets hot tea spilt onto him, Tanizaki and Kunikida sensed instinctive bloodlust on him. But what he really did, was to catch the tea cups and the serving tray swiftly with Rashomon and hand it back to the waitress.)

Oda pointed it out rightly - Akutagawa was an emotional person and he cared too much. When things he cared about were hurt, these emotions took control of him and he would lash out in rather violent ways. And he would feel guilty over it. But, how can a beast feel guilty? It is interesting that in the Beast AU, Atsushi was hardly ever referred to as a beast, even when he was famous for being unable to recognise friend from foe when he was in a tiger state. One of the more obvious parallels is then when Akutagawa noted that Atsushi was driven mad by guilt. And Akutagawa slowly saw it in himself. They were similar that way - both were hounded by the guilt of a irreversible mistake that destroyed/changed their lives. Akutagawa never forgave himself for leaving Gin alone that night when Dazai took her away, to the point that he wanted to die. He only wanted to find and kill two people. One was Dazai. The second was himself. He was afraid of this uncontrollable beast he felt was inside him. 

Oda told him not to chase the beast for a good reason - Akutagawa was not a beast. But he could choose to be one, if he followed that path of no return. Kunikida at the crucial fight point, when urging Akutagawa to stand up and continue fighting said it too: that Akutagawa was not an evil person, but he could choose to be a good person if he chose to become a detective with the ADA. And Akutagawa chose. He allowed Atsushi to live, and told him to keep on fighting and living. He continued working with ADA, trying to solve cases and save people, so that he could prove to himself that he was not a beast, and that one day, Gin could see that he was better and came back to him. I think, even in the main universe, Dazai knows he is wrong about Akutagawa - he may have given up in trying to teach non-terrorising skills in Akutagawa when he was still in the Port Mafia, but he has since tried to amend his mistakes through Atsushi.

Being able to make choices is what makes you human. Choosing to do things beyond our instincts, our nature. We are good, because of the choices that we have made. Likewise, we are bad, because of what we have done. Akutagawa was born to have traits of a rabid hellhound, but he didn’t become one. No one tamed him. What happened, was that he had met with kindness. He had friends. He shared his thoughts and his past and his feelings to the members of the ADA, and they had connected with him and helped him out as much as they could, even when he had yet to fulfil the ‘spirit’ part of the exam. Kenji and Akutagawa had an interesting conversation in the fields. Kenji pointed out that while his companions had died, he had continued to live well. Akutagawa then wondered if it was because his companions have given him the best parts of themselves for him to live on. It is the connection with others that make life worthy of living, that make life mean something. To be human, is to make choices. To be judged on our worth as a human, is to be judged by our very actions. This is inherent in what it means to be alive: living is only worthy when we can share our lives with others. 

Now contrast this with Dazai. Did he really have a choice? If he did, he made some dreadfully selfish ones that destroyed and traumatised the people around him. The Dazai in this world had his own experiences that made him a separate person from the other Dazais after all - his actions and the consequences were his and his own to bear. Who was he to have something that the other Dazais had worked to achieve? The Dazais in other universes may have lost Oda, but Oda was a friend, who shared memories and time with him, who understood and seen him. The loss was devastating, but main universe’s Dazai didn’t truly lose Oda. Oda was still alive, in his mind, giving him the motivation to live on, reminding him to reach out to others and telling him that he was not alone. Dazai in the Beast AU was truly alone. He might have thought that he could replicate a connection in this universe, but his actions had made them nonexistent. As much as Oda was kind and empathetic and perceptive in every universe, it was just impossible. And Oda’s life involved people he cared deeply about, people who Dazai had hurt. Dazai, in the Lupin bar that he had never been in this universe, may have been in denial to tide over the years of waiting for Oda to finish writing and for shin soukoku to develop the best they can be, but once he spoke to Oda, the illusion shattered. Even with all his knowledge of the world, it was never going to recreate a purpose to live. No matter his good intentions, Dazai would never receive the acknowledgement he badly wanted from Oda. Oda would never give him the relief of forgiveness Dazai wanted for the terrible deeds he had done. And Dazai would die, in misery, fulfilling a wish that didn’t truly belong to him.

If Dazai truly didn’t have a choice, then, he was compelled by forces that created this condition within him - he was then, the only beast of this universe. 

[sparklyjojos]

CARNIVAL recaps [5/13]

Today’s recap: Nemu in pursuit of brains, the Doctor (no, no that one), and the youngest detective possible.

--

NINE

21 Sept 1996 — 27 Sept 1996

MACHU PICCHU

--

After the Empire State Building is blown up, big newspapers of the world publish a long letter from RISE to the world. RISE claims they already control the governments. They encourage people to lose their common sense and morals, as only those following their instincts will survive in this “kill or get killed” world. People shouldn’t avert their eyes from how cruel and repulsive they inherently are, but instead contribute to the Crime Olympics—which isn’t just violence for violence’s sake, but a revolution to eradicate “the Beasts”. Every crime in the Olympics should have a proper motive. Criminals who are caught or give themselves up to the police shall be compensated for their trouble. Only those who “believe in their own sense of judgement” will be saved. The only criminals here are those who deny their own crimes. Etc. Etc. Etc.

Even since the JDC explosion, the world’s crime rate and death toll has soared high in what was dubbed the Crime Olympics Phenomenon. UN’s official numbers say that four million people die every single day.

--

On September 21st, exactly 401 people are found dead in the famous Machu Picchu. It looks like people in the vicinity suddenly stopped what they were doing, stripped naked where they stood, gathered in Machu Picchu, and dropped dead from unexplained heart failure. The seventh skull of the Billion Killer is found at the scene.

On September 24th, Tsukumo Nemu investigates the scene assisted by a translator Pacha Palermo [remember her for much, much later]. Pacha’s father who had been working closely with the president became one of the Billion Killer’s victims.

Nemu remembers the case of the poisoned waiter that she, Jounosuke and Hikimiya got tangled into in Paris. It turned out later that the man hadn’t actually died from poison, but from Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease. Further investigation revealed the presence of several no-brand “corned beef” cans containing human brain tissue in the man’s apartment. The waiter had visited Peru about two weeks before death, so it was concluded that he could have gotten those cans there. Nemu was asked by Dokuson to investigate the matter, and coincidentally arrived in Peru on the same day that the Billion Killer just happened to attack Machu Picchu.

(Speaking of Dokuson, he sure changed things in JDC. First, he introduced a merit system of payment instead of a steady monthly paycheck and announced that whoever didn’t do their job would be kicked out. Second, the detectives now had more freedom in choosing cases and could count on JDC to cover all costs involved. Third, the entrance exam was replaced by a normal interview process, resulting in a flood of new detectives. Fourth, instead of using their old Blue ID Cards, everyone would be given a shiny new IDID (International Detective ID) issued by DOLL to allow swift entry and proceedings in foreign countries.)

Pacha Palermo says that her father’s secretary Luca, who vanished “after those four hundred people were killed in Machu Picchu”, had kept in contact with suspicious Russian men. Nemu’s fuzzy reasoning tells her that something’s off here. She calls Jounosuke (who’s currently bored out of his mind recuperating in his house in Japan), and by consulting his language proficiency learns that Pacha has been mistranslating things on purpose to hide a lot of things from Nemu.

Pacha admits that Luca manipulated her father into getting some highly suspicious corned beef cans and used this fact to blackmail Pacha. Nemu notices that Pacha always says that there were “four hundred” victims in Macchu Picchu instead of four hundred and one. While it’s a nitpick, it’s a bit weird for Pacha to leave out a person, considering her father was one of the victims—almost as if she doesn’t count him as a Billion Killer victim. Nemu theorizes that it was Pacha who killed her father, or perhaps just directed him to go to Machu Picchu while knowing that mass murder would happen, but there’s no clear proof.

Either way, Nemu learns what she came to Peru for: the cans had been sourced from Moscow. She decides to fly to Russia to investigate further.

On the plane she reads the recently released Cosmic by Seiryoin Ryusui, which feels a little strange considering she took part in the case described in it. (The “all characters are fictional” disclaimer at the end is just weird in that context.) JDC is concerned by the book mentioning the Geneijo case, which is considered an L-crime and therefore the public shouldn’t be able to know anything about it. What’s more, this Seiryoin guy already announced that his second novel Joker that would come out in January would describe the Geneijo case in detail. Nobody knows who Seiryoin is—the common theory about him being Minase Nagisa (Dakushoin Ryusui’s twin sister) based on writing style similarity is apparently wrong.

Before Nemu can resume her investigation, she gets surprising news from Dokuson: Yaiba Somahito, the First Group’s leader, has kidnapped a boy from the hospital, run away from Japan with him, and is now moving towards Moscow on the Trans-Siberian Express. Dokuson orders Nemu to meet Yaiba halfway through Russia and put a stop to his madness.

--

TEN

28 Sept 1996 — 04 Oct 1996

EIFFEL TOWER

--

The Sanctuary docks at an invisible tower by the name of Tow Dreamer, a grand construction made of orichalcum just like the Billion Killer skulls. From there one can access the main headquarters of RISE, the Moonbow Palace.

White Rook, a.k.a. the Doctor, walks through the dark Moonbow Palace. As always he’s dressed in white and wears a mask—every other executive has a uniform in a different color and never shows their face, so they don’t know the others’ identities. White meets up with Black Rook—the Master—and together they ride the elevator to the top of Tow Dreamer to return to the Sanctuary.

White says that Alive is spreading nicely and it’ll be a while until someone finds an effective vaccine. RISE already has one, of course. They shouldn’t need it as long as they don’t come in contact with Godust, the substance containing the virus.

White and Black enter a place in the Sanctuary called the Cosmic Room to talk with “Mein Fuhrer”. [Seriously, you’re not very slick with the naming.]

The Cosmic Room is dark with many tiny lights spread throughout, so being in it feels like floating in starry space. On a magnetically levitating chair sits the leader Rudolf Strauss, dressed in silver, their face hidden under a realistic mask of a cow [or a bull or an ox, the Japanese word used can mean all these], which brings to mind the Minotaur of Greek mythos. RS speaks through a voice changer, so it’s impossible to guess their gender or age.

The three speak vaguely about “the genius pregnant woman”, wondering if she can become a threat to RISE. RS thinks they won’t have a problem. They already know the future will bring their victory, and now just have to patiently move the game pieces along. RS states that thanks to the Billion Killer, the Beasts shall be eradicated and the era of Gods will begin.

--

On September 28th, three Dots are sent to Paris to oversee the new Billion Killer case. They mention a case in Moscow in which a murderer thought to be the serial killer Amur Tiger replaced all mannequins in the GUM department store with headless bodies. One of the Dots gets heated and makes a bold comment about how the murderer may have aimed to find and kill a person who had a cow head [clearly taking a jab at RS here], and gets his head promptly blown up.

At exactly 1 PM, the top part of the Eiffel Tower is first cut off like with a knife, then sent flying by several explosions. Yet another skull of the Billion Killer is found at the scene.

--

Black Rook watches the show from Dragon’s Center, the control room where servants called Machines work with the Sanctuary’s computer and navigation system. Everything is going as planned. The Sanctuary moves towards the Billion Killer’s next target in Russia.

Black looks at another screen, which shows a secret live feed of Ryuuguu Jounosuke.

--

ELEVEN

19 Oct 1996 — 25 Oct 1996

NIAGARA FALLS

--

It’s been ten weeks into the Crime Olympics and the death toll has reached 280 million. We’re up to ten Billion Killer attacks with the latest ones in France, Russia, and Great Britain. Ten detective organizations have been blown up; at this point every remaining detective group just evacuates the entire staff near 1 PM on Saturdays, which lets them avoid casualties.

--

After the case in Russia, the Sanctuary headed to Japan to investigate the “genius pregnant woman”—Hanto Maimu, the former secretary of Ajiro Souji. It seems that the current leader of JDC Yuiga Dokuson is also interested in that certain ability of hers, as he came all the way to the hospital to visit her.

White Rook has been spying on Maimu by pretending to be her new doctor, “Shindou Masato” (this name of course being fake), so he was there when Dokuson visited. He seems impressed by the power of Dokuson’s presence and his ability to manipulate others with words (a bit reminiscent of Black Rook’s way with words), and thinks that if Dokuson joined RISE, he would have surely become the right hand of the leader, as they would certainly match in terms of charisma, blah blah blah, waxing poetics about Dokuson for two pages. [Well, now I know why I saw ship art of these two.]

From what White knows, Maimu has awakened a strange ability on August 10th, the day of the Billion Killer’s first case, that also happened to be her 28th birthday. Maimu was sad about the attack on JDC, but not at all surprised, since she had had a feeling that it happened, as if she subconsciously knew about the explosion as soon as it took place. Her strange feelings kept coming before every subsequent Billion Killer case, each time coming true. Since she always got these vague feelings at exactly 1 PM on Saturday in Japan time, in practice it meant she was predicting the future—1 PM didn’t happen for the majority of the world yet.

It’s estimated that Maimu will give birth around October 25th, in just a week. It’s strange that Maimu’s husband, a bank employee called Tanna Sazen and referred to simply as Danna (lit. “husband”), hasn’t shown up even once since last week, as if he vanished.

--

Before he was White Rook, the Doctor had been called Endou Naoto. Thinking about names, he remembers what Maimu wants to name her child: Hanto Kuraimu—Crime Hunt. [That’s the most metal name I’ve ever seen, but also means she wants to name her child Crime. Why. Also, there’s an entire part about how this pun doesn’t really work because in Japanese you put the family name first, though in modern times some families westernize their names and put family name last, see Christmas Mizuno as an example.]

White finds it strange that Maimu and Danna apparently thought of only one name, despite her being pregnant with two children. Are they going to call the second kid some variation of the first’s name? Are they going to split it in two somehow? Who knows.

Anyway, White contacts another RISE’s executive Yellow Bishop and learns that Danna’s whereabouts are still unknown, though he seems to be escaping towards Canada. Apparently Danna’s important to understanding just what Maimu’s newly awakened ability really is. Yellow has already mobilized his Dogs to chase him.

Dogs (not to be confused with Dots) are RISE’s spies who spend their entire lives undercover pretending to be normal members of society. (There are also Mice, human test subjects, and Machines, who work under Black to keep the Sanctuary moving, but we’re not going to talk about them now.) Danna is one of the Dogs. It’s not clear how, but he somehow learned about the Billion Killer’s plans and recently run away from his post.

White suspects there might be a secret connection between Yellow and Danna, but it’s hard to guess when he doesn’t even know what Yellow Bishop’s true identity is. Yellow always wears a mask and is quite talented in voice mimicry, so talking with him doesn’t help much.

--

Tanna Sazen / Danna married Maimu four years ago, technically on orders to try and pull information on JDC from her, but in a lucky turn of events he genuinely fell in love with her. Time passed. Maimu awoke her new ability of prediction. Danna suspected this ability was his fault, somehow originating from his knowledge of RISE’s secret plans, and so he fled.

Right now Danna is in Banff, Alberta, where he once cooperated with a fellow Dog, an Indigenous man living near the lake Minnewanka. Danna hopes his friend can help him hide from RISE. Unfortunately, this turns out not to be the case, and Danna has to flee from his should-be-friends trying to capture him and give him over to RISE. In the end Danna is forced to jump from a cliff into Bow Lake, a dangerous fall no ordinary person should survive.

The pursuers are only able to find Danna’s artificial eye and broken glasses in the lake, but when they report that they haven’t found the body to Yellow, he seems satisfied and orders them to stop the search.

--

Maimu makes a mistake in predicting the eleventh Billion Killer case. Her feelings tell her that people will vanish at the Victoria Lake in Canada, but something even stranger happens. A giant submarine suddenly surfaces on the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, completely empty save for yet another Billion Killer skull. It seems to be the same Robo-Ship that vanished inside the Bermuda Triangle six weeks prior, but without its crew.

--

Maimu is taking a walk around the hospital when she’s beckoned over by a man wearing a black suit and made to answer a phone. The one calling appears to be the long-missing Ajiro Souji, who assures her that he’s safe and sound, but can’t go around showing his face just yet. Ajiro hints as to where Maimu can find information about her new ability, and ends the call by asking her to wait patiently and believe in his return.

The hint turns out to be… a paragraph in Cosmic, in which the narration makes a stray remark about how one day Maimu’s child would be a “fetus detective” and later an “infant detective”. [So all those times when Seiryoin does what seems like horrendous writing, all those “they couldn’t yet know that X would happen years later”? INTENTIONAL. God, I love metafiction.]

In other words, the one with a strange predictive ability isn’t Maimu; it’s her yet unborn child. That’s why the latest prediction was off—it’s so close to term that little Kuraimu is their own independent person by now and their connection with Maimu has weakened.

Maimu is lost as to how this ability works exactly, but from what Ajiro said, the child had somehow, in some way, inherited the knowledge about RISE’s plans in the form of genetic information from their father Danna, and was instinctively able to tap into it.

Maimu gives birth on October 31st, but contrary to what White said earlier, only one child is born—a baby girl detective already on a “crime hunt”—as if the other has simply vanished.

--

[>>>NEXT PART>>>]

[homenum-revelio-hq]

Welcome (again) to the Order of the Phoenix, Seb!

You have been accepted for the role of BRANWEN YAXLEY with the faceclaim of Sonequa Martin-Green! We adored your application for Branwen! You really took the bio created and brought her to life in your own way! We especially loved the bias/prejudice section and how you really went for the nitty-gritty and didn’t hold back. We’re so excited to have her on the dash! 

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Seb

AGE: 21+

TIMEZONE: CET

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I‘m on my winter-break for three weeks now, and while it might get busy for me around Jan and Feb, I should still manage at least one reply daily.

ANYTHING ELSE: Nothing really. Thank you for asking <3

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Branwen Yaxley

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.

Her sexuality was always something she was very straight-forward about. She was probably introduced to the term ‚homosexual‘ as a slur at first, and immediately decided to defend it, not even knowing what it actually meant. By the time she found out, she had spoken up about it too loudly to retrieve her opinion quietly. And because it seemed so magnificently radical to call herself a Lesbian and be attacked by homophobes first hand (which gave her a reason to do what she does best: fighting) that it became an identity she wore on her sleeves from a young age on.

I like to imagine that the pureblood side of the Wizarding World was – even in the 60s and 70s – less open about such topics than the Muggle World. The pureblood mentality is all about passing on ‘pure‘ genes, isn‘t it? Which could mean that they see homosexuality as something standing in the way of such goals. Nevertheless, I don‘t think Branwen would‘ve been quiet about her identity. For one, because it told the sweet, quiet and closeted pureblood girls that they were very welcome to approach her in the shadows of certain corridors at Hogwarts, and for two, because most pureblood families raised their daughters to be perfect future wives. And this train had long left the station for Branwen. Her parents – who still think this is just a phase and will pass eventually – always knew Branwen would choose a husband fit for her rough and brawny attitude herself. So as long as they think this will still happen, they mostly refuse to talk about it with her. After all, the Yaxley name will live on whether Branwen has children or not: through honourable, righteous Corban. The one everyone is so goddamn proud of…

So, yes, Branwen has made her experiences, with emotions as well as short-lasting relationships, but only ever with other pureblood girls. After all, even if an accidental child won‘t be a situation, the mingling of bloods is just ‘wrong and disgusting’.

(note: I just want you to know that personally I dislike the term ‘gold star lesbian’ as it‘s usually used to invalidate gay people‘s identity based on their past relationships, and the same goes for ‘popping a cherry‘, for obvious reasons. But when I thought about how Branwen herself would answer this question, this was the exact phrase that came to my mind. The nuances of terms don’t matter to her at all as she doesn’t care at all about offending people.)

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.

She’s unashamed of who she is but, because of siding with the Order, does have to restrain certain parts of herself. I’d like to express this with some hair symbolism: whenever she’s being herself, unrestricted from either side, she wears her hair natural and open. Willing to fight anyone who might want to say something negative about her appearance. But then, for example when she joins the Order in a battle (or in smaller situations in which she has to act in a way that is unlike her), she prepares by braiding her hair. For this symbolism, I think black hair works best. It holds the most meaning, considering our society‘s prejudices against it, and that‘s why I‘d prefer Sonequa over Mackenzie!

Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:

She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.

I looked up the etymology of the name ‘Branwen‘ but accidentally typed ‚Bram‘, which apparently is the old English word for ‘broom‘. Even though the name Branwen has a different origin, I had a good giggle and it gave me a good idea to explain her personality. On the one hand, Branwen is extremely skilled on the broom, most likely having played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her years at Hogwarts (as a Beater, naturally). On the other hand there is this a German adjective, borstig, which means to be like the bristles of a broom/brush. More than any other, I believe that this adjective describes Branwen perfectly.

She is like the rough bristles of a broom, sweeping over whatever surface she deems messy, tearing everything away from their peaceful state on the floor, allowing no failures on her side. Crash your hand directly into the bristles and you might even draw blood from the wounds, but run your fingers over them carefully, putting up no counter-pressure, the bristles will tickle you at most. Perhaps even feel like a gentle caress.

When crashing your hand into the bristles:

It’s important to understand, that she doesn‘t prick for the sake of pricking. Nor is fighting for moral reasons. She‘s not a Nora Lynch type of a personality, despite their similar willingness to quarrel.

There‘s a saying which goes, your bubble of freedom ends where the bubble of freedom of another person starts. Branwen‘s bubble is larger than most people‘s. To be comfortable she needs to be able to swing her arms and be able to express herself loudly. She takes up a lot of space, not minding to take up other people‘s space but minding very much when other people take up hers. Whether it be opinions, physical space or emotions, she knows exactly who she is, anyone opposing her beliefs is – in her opinion – someone who tries to minimise her bubble of freedom. So when she pricks, it‘s not because quarreling with people is a way to alleviate boredom, but because she deems it necessary to gain her freedom back.

When gently touching the bristles:

In return this means that Branwen is – as long as one lets her be who she wishes to be – quite the enjoyable character. Because she‘s the opposite of whatever ‘social anxiety‘ is, she‘s easy to be around. There‘s no awkward silence, no struggle to understand what she wants, no hesitation when it comes to making plans. She leads the conversation, and because there‘s no topic too private for her, she can and will lead those conversations easily to blush-worthy places. 

She‘s always up for drinks and jokes, adores hearty jokes, never says no to adventures, and while she doesn‘t really care about ‘deep‘ topics or philosophising around, she does care about the problems of those she considers friends. The aforementioned caress, is a genuine one. It’s not particularly deep, has no healing effects, but it can soothe a momentary itch. She will lend you an ear and give you concrete advice, usually even offer to deal with the problem in question herself.

This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.

Around all Order members she wears a mask of civility, which holds in her prejudices much like braids keep her hair tied back, making sure her fight for personal freedom never turns political. But around Muggleborns and half-breeds she’s too aware of how different she is from them.

Perhaps it’s something akin to disgust, but perhaps it’s also the fear that if she gets started on fighting for her freedom around them, she might go too far and unmask herself completely. She‘ll warily stalk around small-talk and listen more than she speaks, which is unusual for her. No leading of conversations, instead she allows herself to be led – but put a pin in this, we‘ll come back to it later. For now it‘s important to know that Branwen is not at all the same person around people she likes, and people she is convinced don‘t deserve her respect. People who thinks might one day take away her freedom on a political basis.

All in all, Branwen has the kind of personality that allows for fun threads. The war doesn‘t affect her the way it affects most Order members (again, put a pin in that) and so not all her conversations turn around its effects. There‘s no heaviness to her, no sorrowful pondering or air of hopelessness. After all, what has she got to lose? This being said, stir the conversation towards something she has an (utterable) opinion on, and you‘re in for a ride. (As long as you‘re not a Muggleborn, as previously mentioned.) She knows no shame, never thinks back about where fights went wrong, always runs head-first into what many people would consider ‘taboo topics‘. And even when fists and curses come and go flying, she will never think herself in the wrong. After all, she‘s not the one who started. It was her freedom bubble which was being stepped on! She only defended herself!

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:

To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.

Part of the sacred 28, an – in Branwen‘s opinion – honourable circle of British purebloods, the Yaxleys are Scottish and have their seat in a grand castle in the highlands, not too far away from Hogwarts. Most of the sons who carried down the name were in Slytherin, however it is not uncommon for the daughters of this family to land in Gryffindor, showing that the Yaxley‘s priority has always been honour and pride.

Lachlan Yaxley, Branwen‘s father, is your typical Slytherin. He‘s two-tongued and cunning, ceaselessly putting the appearance of what he does over its actual content. What he wants, he‘ll fight for with all his might, but contrary to his wife, he fights for it in the shadows, silently, in a way that leaves no traces of the sharp, unforgiving violence he exerts.

Bethan Yaxley, born Burke, Branwen‘s mother, went to Gryffindor. Although from another generation and an even stricter familial background, she always showed signs of rebellion, of a will to fight. Raised to be the perfect bride one day, always taught to be lady-like, beautiful and adorable, her ways to get what she wanted were never concealed or performed in secret. Stand in between what she wants and herself, and your life might literally be in danger. She‘s no less violent than her husband, but while his violence shows itself in emotional abuse, always making sure he‘ll be able to call himself innocent afterwards, she‘s unapologetic about her ways.

In fact, while she had been engaged to marry into the Yaxleys from a young age on, she decided herself that she wanted the older, instead of the younger brother. Her ways to get him were never concealed or performed behind closed doors, on the contrary, the whole Wizarding World watched as she made her family even more noble, even more rich, by catching Lachlan and putting him into her pocket. Did Lachlan disagree with what she wanted (his money, his nobility), no one ever learnt about it, though. He must’ve not been too disapproving of Bethan’s determination though, or else he would‘ve had his own, quiet ways to stop her. After all, make no mistake, just because he seems more subdued compared to her, it doesn‘t mean he‘s less powerful in their relationship.

Growing up as the daughter of two people, who, on the one hand, encouraged Branwen‘s large freedom bubble, always teaching her to take what she wanted, never make excuses, and on the other hand, had their own very large freedom bubble, which was so easy to overstep, was anything but easy.

The abuse – as modern Muggle psychologists would call it but which Branwen‘s would never see as such – strengthened her. From a young age on she had to fight for every inch of freedom she wanted to claim for herself, be it something small like which books she enjoyed reading (”Really?“ her father would always ask in a skeptical, hostile way. “That‘s something you enjoy?“) or who she knew she truly was (the day she came out to her parents, her mother wiped a spell over her, leading to a permanent scar across her shoulder which she carries to this day).

Psychologists would also be able to detect the ways it weakened her. Her fear of actually letting people come close, scared they might judge, scared she might never get the freedom back, for example. Her inability to be soft and gentle. Or her constant need to be right, as though allowing another opinion to co-exist with hers, would negate who she is as a whole person. Or her actual physical flinching at the idea of befriending a Muggleborn.

But Branwen would never admit to that, perhaps hasn‘t even figured it out herself yet. She firmly believes it made her strong, and perhaps it did. The ability to unapologetically demand what she wants, what she believes she deserves, it is a type of strength. To get through battles and duels with a grin on her face, because what is there more familiar and home-feeling than fighting with others? To never step down from a childhood feud that started for a reason no one quite remembers, simply because she can. To never hurt when yet another girlfriend ditches her, after all, she wasn‘t raised to share but to be self-sufficient, raised to never need people‘s friendly words and gentle touches…

To her, her surname means power. It means protection and honour, and she carries her head high because of it. Being way more outspoken about it back when she was at Hogwarts, she has however stopped mentioning who she is all the time now. Perhaps because the Order wouldn‘t see this as something positive. Perhaps because slowly she has stopped seeing it as something quite as positive either. Before, she was quite indifferent about the prejudices the Sacred 28 fostered, not really caring about the ‘deadborn‘ and enslaved Squibs, and definitely not bothering to question what there was to hate about Muggleborns. Nowadays, she still doesn‘t really care about any of that, but she understands that her noble name comes with those opinions.

However, she’ll never renounce this name. She won‘t let her parents disinherit her, she won‘t let herself be burnt off the family tree, she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. Even if that means that one day, she will have to let her bubble of freedom burst and submit herself to her mother’s control… But it’s worth it, right? To give up ‘Branwen’ to be a proper ‘Yaxley’? After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her? And, who knows, even though she’s determined to win this war to stick it to her damn cousin, what if they lose? At least she’ll have a proud title to go back to.

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.

After some splendid suggestions from the group, I have come up with a little idea: Wizards can conjure material goods but only for a limited period of time. It is therefore only logical that they need to buy the objects they expect to last for a whole year or longer, such as cauldrons. And therefore it is just as logical that those objects need to be manually crafted.

If some cauldrons are more expensive than others then it’s because they are more sustainable, and this is achieved by the kind of metals used, but also by the magic woven into them as they are crafted over a real flame (considering that elemental magic is the oldest and purest form, therefore also the strongest form of magic).

Branwen is clearly not in need for a job. Even if her parents disapprove of her choices, they still believe she‘ll come back around to marrying and giving the Yaxley genes to a child one day. (The name and heritage will follow Corban’s bloodline, anyway). They support her with a huge monthly allowance that make working obsolete. So why is she doing it anyway?

Well, the truth is, she started to work at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop because the branch in Knockturn Alley allowed her to overhear the telling chit chat between family members. Sellspeople are so easily overseen by the rich… It was one of the plans she had with which she talked her way into the Order. Told them that she had a great job where she could innocently inquire about this and that and learn about what was going on with the Dark Lord‘s supporters via their wives and babbling children. And because the shop is close to Borgin and Burkes, where a paternal great-uncle of her works, it not only put her parents at ease knowing he‘d look over Branwen, but also allowed her to be alone often, it was a winning argument.

What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?

Certainly, working as a friendly sellperson is mostly out of character for poor Branwen, who struggles with just letting the hostile comments of clients wash over her, but damn is she good at finding exactly the right cauldron the person is looking for. She‘s not someone who gives up or half-arses her job. If she is asked to help someone, find the exact right cauldron for a very specific potion, then she will not rest until that very cauldron has gone over the counter.

One day however she couldn’t find such a cauldron. So she went down into the cellar where the cauldrons are being made and it was the start unexpected: she began forging cauldrons herself. Manually. In the roaring fire, she‘ll stand for hours and hours, one hand holding the potion-soaked hammer, in the other the metal, as her mental strength turns into physical strength. She doesn‘t stop when the soot covers her face, doesn‘t stop when her clothes drench from the sweat, doesn‘t stop when her muscles begin shaking under the hard work. Seemingly inexhaustible she forges, refusing to think about how this work comes from a time when Muggles and Wizards still shared lives.

No one knows that she is more than a vendor, other than the other blacksmith, and she needs this to stay that way. She is proud of every single one of the cauldrons she makes, knowing they are perfect, but she is not proud of the manual labor. Yes, there is magic involved, but still. She is a Yaxley! And this is lower class labor at best… But there is something about holding the heavy hammer, about feeling the fire burn in her lungs that keep drawing her back down into the cellar, and she can‘t explain what it is. In a way she doesn‘t want to think about it, because what if she began to admire Muggles for their manual labor too? Began to envy them to live in a world without magic…

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.

On the one hand she just couldn‘t care less about the cause. She doesn’t care about morals or politics as long as the hierarchy of society stays in a way that she can keep her power, money and title. Most Death Eaters, she assumes are good, upright citizens, family and friends, who are just concerned about the Wizarding World. Not everyone who‘s on the Dark Lord‘s side immediately wants all Muggleborns dead, right? Most of them just want them apart so they can‘t mingle with the purity of their beautiful magical world, and isn‘t that very sensible? Surely most Muggleborns must agree, too!

On the other hand she has begun caring for the Order members. I love this part a lot so I don‘t want her to be too far into this caring yet but want to develop it as I play her. I don‘t want her to be too enamored with everyone just yet, but enough that she‘d consider some of them almost friends. When they talk to her about their private problems, she finds herself caring, and while she might hold back from seeking out their friendship, it‘s definitely begun forming, slowly, quietly, within her. No matter how much she pretends it hasn‘t, she can very much feel it. This feeling of fondness. Of admiration. Adoration, at times, even.

She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:

One, her purpose in the Order is exactly that. She‘s not someone who will spy in other camps, or sit at home watching over a map like Edgar. She‘s someone who wants to be out on the field, her wand in her hand, curses on her tongue. And because she lacks moral values – the Death Eater values as much as the Order values – she has no trouble fighting with all her heart. She just wants to win, what for, it doesn‘t really matter. She just doesn‘t want to lose and so she fights without hesitation, and the other Order members will know that. That‘s perhaps why she‘s made it to Mid-Level at this point: because she has proven herself to be trustworthy on the battlefield. No hesitation, no laziness. When she fights, she fights. She‘s in it, with her heart, head and muscles.

Two, she has seen other Order members fight like that as well. When she initially joined she didn‘t know what she got herself into, perhaps even thought that they‘d need her to win this war. After all, they were just some silly rebels who just happened to oppose her cousin‘s side, she didn‘t really have faith in them. That‘s why she joined. To prove her cousin wrong. But then the months went by, years, eventually, and Branwen had to learn a harsh lesson: those people weren‘t joking around. They weren‘t wimps. They weren‘t pitiful. They were everything she had ever wanted to be, and at times even more.

Usually, when she argues with someone, duels them, she has no emotions or opinions about it afterwards. It‘s never really personal. During her time with the Order, she quarreled a lot (mostly with non-Muggleborns as explained above), however it never left her quite as cold as fighting did when she was young. She began rethinking what people told her in those arguments. 

And instead of despising her for being so head-strong, she began admiring them for it. Especially because they didn‘t fight like her father did, with jabs and a smirk, solely to leave you emotionally wounded. They didn‘t do it like her mother did it, with physical violence, rather wanting to lame you than to allow you to take up space. No, what they did, how they defended themselves, is by simply … standing their ground. By reminding her of other people‘s freedom she endangers. By taking her by the hand and guiding her to show her that them (the people who they‘re trying to defend) being free, doesn‘t necessarily mean she won‘t have any left for herself. That true freedom means freedom for everyone.

She‘d rather cut out her tongue than speak about this to anyone, but it‘s there. This knowledge. She knows it has happened. She knows how she feels. And she fears how it‘ll make her decide one day…

SURVIVAL:

Being a pureblood with a well-known family, she doesn‘t struggle much in this war. As long as she gets her few hours at Potage‘s in, no one wonders what she‘s doing during the rest of the time. She officially lives with her aunt in a city house in Wizarding London, but she mostly comes by to take a shower and change her clothes. Most of the times she‘s out at night, enjoying life, not worrying too much about all this war-trouble, and convincing people to let her stay in their bed. Yes, bed. Do you think a Yaxley would settle for the couch?

In recent times, she‘s begun sleeping over at other Order members’ places more and more often. Perhaps because they don‘t ask questions like “so what are you going to do with your life now”? Perhaps because … no. Branwen refuses to see them all as friends. Some perhaps. Close acquaintances who she happens to trust with her life. But friends? Never.

And yet, when she speaks words of comfort, holding them shielded from dark incidents, promising to be there for them, she can‘t help but wonder how much of her freedom she‘s already given up for their love.

It conflicts her greatly. You wouldn‘t see it in the way she interacts with people, but it almost scares her, all this. The idea that they might lose this war. Because it would make her cousin all too happy, yes, but also because, well, what would happen to them? Trial? Azkaban? Death?

She condemns no one from her family to be on her opposing side and yet is quite glad they don‘t know on which side she‘s on. Perhaps because she knows that one day she‘ll see her parents‘ shoes under the Death Eater‘s robes and will have less than a second to figure out on whose side she‘s truly on.

RELATIONSHIPS:

It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.

At Hogwarts she was the kind of person to throw those (in)famous Gryffindor parties; aword from her and everyone would come. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. A party thrown by her meant a good time. And people usually liked being around her. This went on even after Hogwarts, in Wizarding London. And yes, she‘s the type of person to call people she met a few times ‘friends‘, to treat them like buddies, touching them and talking to them as though she knew them for years. But real friends? People she trusted with her emotions? With her pain? With her fears? Those were incredibly rare. Countable on one hand.

One of those people is Alice Longbottom, as she proved herself from a young age on the type of person Branwen respects. I‘d need to plot with the player, of course, but I like to imagine that they got into a terrible fight-at-first-sight, and Alice won in such a glorious way, that Branwen couldn‘t help but feel that through her bruised ego, she was mostly just proud of Alice for having such a big dick energy. And because they spent so much time together, eventually, the deeper conversations started to unfold, and she did grow attached.

But this doesn‘t negate what I previously said. She‘s not someone to get all touchy-feely with, and so many people would never place her high on their friendship list, even if Branwen does like them a lot. Like, she might feel close to someone, but they‘d never think about inviting her to their intimate wedding “for family and just a few closest friends”.

So the war didn‘t change much. That she can‘t talk to her purebloodist friends about what she does outside of partying and working at Potage‘s, or that she can‘t talk to the Order members about how little she actually cares about their cause, doesn‘t really affect her relationships. She was never someone to just talk about how she truly felt, anyway.

On the contrary. Because around Muggleborns she‘s forced to shut up and listen, she might‘ve grown to learn how to actually listen to other people for once. Before, when someone talked in a way that bored or upset her, she‘d just say so. Around those she can‘t do this, she is forced to listen to their side of things, to their opinions, their feelings, and as the years with the Order went by, she might‘ve begun actually caring for other people on more than just surface level. She got to know them, and because they are all brave in their own way, she began to like them.

No, she never really had friends.

But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As literally everyone else, I‘ll obviously say Branwen x chemistry. However, I do think that romantic/sexual relationships with men will be out of the question. Deep, important friendships as explained in the point above? Heck yes! But no romance.

Also, I do like the idea that Branwen might fall for a Muggleborn girl. Not just for the beautiful star-crossed lover trope but also just to explore her bias and morals. I think such a romance could work well for character-development.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Muggles are inherently dirty. Werewolves (as well as other half-breeds) shouldn‘t even be just kicked out of society, they should be killed. Or at least be castrated. It‘s a shame to even consider them human, and allow them to perform magic. Muggle music is stressful and too loud and chaotic, there‘s no grace to it. The same goes for all their other art. Halfbloods can stay but their magic is weaker. The magic of Muggleborns is weaker as well, in fact, so weak, that Hogwarts shouldn‘t even seek out British Muggleborns but just let them stay in the Muggle world. Squibs should consider themselves lucky that they‘re made servants instead of being completely kicked out of society, as it would be the Wizarding World‘s right to do. It’s for people with magic, after all. A marriage between a Muggle and a Wizard/Witch should be forbidden. Salazar Slytherin was right when he said Hogwarts should stay clean of mudblood, as Muggles are known to be inherently hateful. They have proven themselves incapable of accepting magic and it‘s therefore for their best to keep them unknowing of the Wizarding World. After all, what if the Wizarding World ended up being revealed to the Muggles? Would they come hunting Witches again? Or would the Wizarding World have to force them into submission, into oppression, perhaps making slaves out of them the way they do it with Squibs? It’s just for their best to keep them away, really.

Here a handful of prejudices Branwen‘s fosters. But mind you, she is not only outspoken about them but also doesn‘t have enough … incentive to fight about it. None of this really regards her, she finds. She will fight about everything and anything, but not for moral reasons. As long as her status of a mightier Witch isn‘t doubted, she won‘t fight with people who say Halfbloods‘ magic is valid. However if they say it‘s as strong as hers, she‘ll want to fight to prove them wrong. So if the war would end in favour of the Order, she‘d be like, okay, as long as I get to keep my privileges. Being rich. Getting an education. Having people respect her noble status. Etcetera etcetera.

All those beliefs she holds are beliefs because they were taught to her as facts. Not as opinions. What drives people angry are when opinions are being challenged. “This movie was bad”. She‘d fight people on that. But the same way no one would fight another person about the colour of bananas, she has no reason to fight people about the dirtiness of Muggles. It‘s just a fact. They clean their houses with mops! So that‘s perhaps a reason why she manages to not get into arguments with other Order members. Because she either thinks them uneducated about certain topics – or her silence forces her to listen to what they call facts, quietly challenging what she thought to be the only truth.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

I am easily uncomfortable in group chats and environments with new people. But this group was just so welcoming (the first night alone I received about five messages from people asking for plots!) that it made me feel terribly at ease. So I was very soon very certain I wanted another character to dive deeper into this game with all those lovely players.

I wanted a character different to my Edgar baby to explore the purebloodist side of the war, and open myself up to in-character conversations you‘d never see Edgar having.

Branwen immediately caught my eye because she joined the Oder out a joke-like whim, not because she already sees the problems in her purebloodist upbringing. It’s always a fun challenge to play a character who thinks very differently than me. The idea that someone might manage to challenge her prejudices and actually change to a point that one day she might even fight her own beloved parents in a battle, enthralls me.

PLOT DROP IDEAS:

I‘d love to see the Yaxley‘s being outed as Death Eaters, or getting hurt by the Order. To see how Branwen would react.

I‘d also love to see what will happen with the werewolves by the McKinnon farm next. Edgar seems to be getting it into his head that they should be allowed into the Farm and have a warm bed – and Branwen‘s reaction to even just the suggestion makes me laugh.

Also, I wonder what would happen if a mission such as the current event fails and members of the Order get injured. If Branwen‘s worry would show and if perhaps it would drive her to 1) question why their morals are worth dying for and 2) realise she does love them like friends.

Oh! Also: “[…] she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her?” I’d love to explore this as well. Her being outed as an Order member, far far down the line maybe, and see what she’d do.

ANYTHING ELSE?

Thank you for your consideration and thank you for being lovely admins! (You put in an alternative subit-page!! :D) You can be very proud of yourself and I hope you‘ll make it through the (dangerous for RPs) holiday season without too many losses and without getting too stressed!

[bristlybranwen]

BIO

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Branwen Yaxley

AGE: 30

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis female. She/Her. Hard rock gold star lesbian with a(n unpopped) cherry on top.

Her sexuality was always something she was very straight-forward about. She was probably introduced to the term ‚homosexual‘ as a slur at first, and immediately decided to defend it, not even knowing what it actually meant. By the time she found out, she had spoken up about it too loudly to retrieve her opinion quietly. And because it seemed so magnificently radical to call herself a Lesbian and be attacked by homophobes first hand (which gave her a reason to do what she does best: fighting) that it became an identity she wore on her sleeves from a young age on.

I like to imagine that the pureblood side of the Wizarding World was – even in the 60s and 70s – less open about such topics than the Muggle World. The pureblood mentality is all about passing on ‘pure‘ genes, isn‘t it? Which could mean that they see homosexuality as something standing in the way of such goals. Nevertheless, I don‘t think Branwen would‘ve been quiet about her identity. For one, because it told the sweet, quiet and closeted pureblood girls that they were very welcome to approach her in the shadows of certain corridors at Hogwarts, and for two, because most pureblood families raised their daughters to be perfect future wives. And this train had long left the station for Branwen. Her parents – who still think this is just a phase and will pass eventually – always knew Branwen would choose a husband fit for her rough and brawny attitude herself. So as long as they think this will still happen, they mostly refuse to talk about it with her. After all, the Yaxley name will live on whether Branwen has children or not: through honourable, righteous Corban. The one everyone is so goddamn proud of…

So, yes, Branwen has made her experiences, with emotions as well as short-lasting relationships, but only ever with other pureblood girls. After all, even if an accidental child won‘t be a situation, the mingling of bloods is just ‘wrong and disgusting’.

(note: I just want you to know that personally I dislike the term ‘gold star lesbian’ as it‘s usually used to invalidate gay people‘s identity based on their past relationships, and the same goes for ‘popping a cherry‘, for obvious reasons. But when I thought about how Branwen herself would answer this question, this was the exact phrase that came to my mind. The nuances of terms don’t matter to her at all as she doesn’t care at all about offending people.)

BLOOD STATUS: Pureblood

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: I‘d love to change the FC to Sonequa Martin-Green. While Mackenzie looks very cool and has strong brawl vibes, I think Sonequa fits those vibes very well too.

She’s unashamed of who she is but, because of siding with the Order, does have to restrain certain parts of herself. I’d like to express this with some hair symbolism: whenever she’s being herself, unrestricted from either side, she wears her hair natural and open. Willing to fight anyone who might want to say something negative about her appearance. But then, for example when she joins the Order in a battle (or in smaller situations in which she has to act in a way that is unlike her), she prepares by braiding her hair. For this symbolism, I think black hair works best. It holds the most meaning, considering our society‘s prejudices against it, and that‘s why I‘d prefer Sonequa over Mackenzie!

Also, giving her a non-white FC is a nice way to visualise her name, which means ‘beautiful raven‘.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

There are three things one needs to know about Branwen:

She knows exactly who she is. She acts before she thinks. She is unapologetic and relentless in what she wants and does.

I looked up the etymology of the name ‘Branwen‘ but accidentally typed ‚Bram‘, which apparently is the old English word for ‘broom‘. Even though the name Branwen has a different origin, I had a good giggle and it gave me a good idea to explain her personality. On the one hand, Branwen is extremely skilled on the broom, most likely having played on the Gryffindor Quidditch team during her years at Hogwarts (as a Beater, naturally). On the other hand there is this a German adjective, borstig, which means to be like the bristles of a broom/brush. More than any other, I believe that this adjective describes Branwen perfectly.

She is like the rough bristles of a broom, sweeping over whatever surface she deems messy, tearing everything away from their peaceful state on the floor, allowing no failures on her side. Crash your hand directly into the bristles and you might even draw blood from the wounds, but run your fingers over them carefully, putting up no counter-pressure, the bristles will tickle you at most. Perhaps even feel like a gentle caress.

When crashing your hand into the bristles:

It’s important to understand, that she doesn‘t prick for the sake of pricking. Nor is fighting for moral reasons. She‘s not a Nora Lynch type of a personality, despite their similar willingness to quarrel.

There‘s a saying which goes, your bubble of freedom ends where the bubble of freedom of another person starts. Branwen‘s bubble is larger than most people‘s. To be comfortable she needs to be able to swing her arms and be able to express herself loudly. She takes up a lot of space, not minding to take up other people‘s space but minding very much when other people take up hers. Whether it be opinions, physical space or emotions, she knows exactly who she is, anyone opposing her beliefs is – in her opinion – someone who tries to minimise her bubble of freedom. So when she pricks, it‘s not because quarreling with people is a way to alleviate boredom, but because she deems it necessary to gain her freedom back.

When gently touching the bristles:

In return this means that Branwen is – as long as one lets her be who she wishes to be – quite the enjoyable character. Because she‘s the opposite of whatever ‘social anxiety‘ is, she‘s easy to be around. There‘s no awkward silence, no struggle to understand what she wants, no hesitation when it comes to making plans. She leads the conversation, and because there‘s no topic too private for her, she can and will lead those conversations easily to blush-worthy places.

She‘s always up for drinks and jokes, adores hearty jokes, never says no to adventures, and while she doesn‘t really care about ‘deep‘ topics or philosophising around, she does care about the problems of those she considers friends. The aforementioned caress, is a genuine one. It’s not particularly deep, has no healing effects, but it can soothe a momentary itch. She will lend you an ear and give you concrete advice, usually even offer to deal with the problem in question herself.

This being said, there is one scenario where she restricts herself and turns a little stiff, and that is when she speaks to Muggleborns or half-breeds.

Around all Order members she wears a mask of civility, which holds in her prejudices much like braids keep her hair tied back, making sure her fight for personal freedom never turns political. But around Muggleborns and half-breeds she’s too aware of how different she is from them.

Perhaps it’s something akin to disgust, but perhaps it’s also the fear that if she gets started on fighting for her freedom around them, she might go too far and unmask herself completely. She‘ll warily stalk around small-talk and listen more than she speaks, which is unusual for her. No leading of conversations, instead she allows herself to be led – but put a pin in this, we‘ll come back to it later. For now it‘s important to know that Branwen is not at all the same person around people she likes, and people she is convinced don‘t deserve her respect. People who thinks might one day take away her freedom on a political basis.

All in all, Branwen has the kind of personality that allows for fun threads. The war doesn‘t affect her the way it affects most Order members (again, put a pin in that) and so not all her conversations turn around its effects. There‘s no heaviness to her, no sorrowful pondering or air of hopelessness. After all, what has she got to lose? This being said, stir the conversation towards something she has an (utterable) opinion on, and you‘re in for a ride. (As long as you‘re not a Muggleborn, as previously mentioned.) She knows no shame, never thinks back about where fights went wrong, always runs head-first into what many people would consider ‘taboo topics‘. And even when fists and curses come and go flying, she will never think herself in the wrong. After all, she‘s not the one who started. It was her freedom bubble which was being stepped on! She only defended herself!

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF THE FAMILY:

To understand Branwen, it‘s vital to understand her family, her paternal side, the famous Yaxleys, as well as her maternal side.

Part of the sacred 28, an – in Branwen‘s opinion – honourable circle of British purebloods, the Yaxleys are Scottish and have their seat in a grand castle in the highlands, not too far away from Hogwarts. Most of the sons who carried down the name were in Slytherin, however it is not uncommon for the daughters of this family to land in Gryffindor, showing that the Yaxley‘s priority has always been honour and pride.

Lachlan Yaxley, Branwen‘s father, is your typical Slytherin. He‘s two-tongued and cunning, ceaselessly putting the appearance of what he does over its actual content. What he wants, he‘ll fight for with all his might, but contrary to his wife, he fights for it in the shadows, silently, in a way that leaves no traces of the sharp, unforgiving violence he exerts.

Bethan Yaxley, born Burke, Branwen‘s mother, went to Gryffindor. Although from another generation and an even stricter familial background, she always showed signs of rebellion, of a will to fight. Raised to be the perfect bride one day, always taught to be lady-like, beautiful and adorable, her ways to get what she wanted were never concealed or performed in secret. Stand in between what she wants and herself, and your life might literally be in danger. She‘s no less violent than her husband, but while his violence shows itself in emotional abuse, always making sure he‘ll be able to call himself innocent afterwards, she‘s unapologetic about her ways.

In fact, while she had been engaged to marry into the Yaxleys from a young age on, she decided herself that she wanted the older, instead of the younger brother. Her ways to get him were never concealed or performed behind closed doors, on the contrary, the whole Wizarding World watched as she made her family even more noble, even more rich, by catching Lachlan and putting him into her pocket. Did Lachlan disagree with what she wanted (his money, his nobility), no one ever learnt about it, though. He must’ve not been too disapproving of Bethan’s determination though, or else he would‘ve had his own, quiet ways to stop her. After all, make no mistake, just because he seems more subdued compared to her, it doesn‘t mean he‘s less powerful in their relationship.

Growing up as the daughter of two people, who, on the one hand, encouraged Branwen‘s large freedom bubble, always teaching her to take what she wanted, never make excuses, and on the other hand, had their own very large freedom bubble, which was so easy to overstep, was anything but easy.

The abuse – as modern Muggle psychologists would call it but which Branwen‘s would never see as such – strengthened her. From a young age on she had to fight for every inch of freedom she wanted to claim for herself, be it something small like which books she enjoyed reading (”Really?“ her father would always ask in a skeptical, hostile way. “That‘s something you enjoy?“) or who she knew she truly was (the day she came out to her parents, her mother wiped a spell over her, leading to a permanent scar across her shoulder which she carries to this day).

Psychologists would also be able to detect the ways it weakened her. Her fear of actually letting people come close, scared they might judge, scared she might never get the freedom back, for example. Her inability to be soft and gentle. Or her constant need to be right, as though allowing another opinion to co-exist with hers, would negate who she is as a whole person. Or her actual physical flinching at the idea of befriending a Muggleborn.

But Branwen would never admit to that, perhaps hasn‘t even figured it out herself yet. She firmly believes it made her strong, and perhaps it did. The ability to unapologetically demand what she wants, what she believes she deserves, it is a type of strength. To get through battles and duels with a grin on her face, because what is there more familiar and home-feeling than fighting with others? To never step down from a childhood feud that started for a reason no one quite remembers, simply because she can. To never hurt when yet another girlfriend ditches her, after all, she wasn‘t raised to share but to be self-sufficient, raised to never need people‘s friendly words and gentle touches…

To her, her surname means power. It means protection and honour, and she carries her head high because of it. Being way more outspoken about it back when she was at Hogwarts, she has however stopped mentioning who she is all the time now. Perhaps because the Order wouldn‘t see this as something positive. Perhaps because slowly she has stopped seeing it as something quite as positive either. Before, she was quite indifferent about the prejudices the Sacred 28 fostered, not really caring about the ‘deadborn‘ and enslaved Squibs, and definitely not bothering to question what there was to hate about Muggleborns. Nowadays, she still doesn‘t really care about any of that, but she understands that her noble name comes with those opinions.

However, she’ll never renounce this name. She won‘t let her parents disinherit her, she won‘t let herself be burnt off the family tree, she won‘t do anything that‘ll risk her nobility. Even if that means that one day, she will have to let her bubble of freedom burst and submit herself to her mother’s control… But it’s worth it, right? To give up ‘Branwen’ to be a proper ‘Yaxley’? After all, this name means strength. And she is strong because of it. If she were to lose her name, her family, what would be left of her? And, who knows, even though she’s determined to win this war to stick it to her damn cousin, what if they lose? At least she’ll have a proud title to go back to.

OCCUPATION: Blacksmith and vendor at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop, the Knockturn Alley branch.

After some splendid suggestions from the group, I have come up with a little idea: Wizards can conjure material goods but only for a limited period of time. It is therefore only logical that they need to buy the objects they expect to last for a whole year or longer, such as cauldrons. And therefore it is just as logical that those objects need to be manually crafted.

If some cauldrons are more expensive than others then it’s because they are more sustainable, and this is achieved by the kind of metals used, but also by the magic woven into them as they are crafted over a real flame (considering that elemental magic is the oldest and purest form, therefore also the strongest form of magic).

Branwen is clearly not in need for a job. Even if her parents disapprove of her choices, they still believe she‘ll come back around to marrying and giving the Yaxley genes to a child one day. (The name and heritage will follow Corban’s bloodline, anyway). They support her with a huge monthly allowance that make working obsolete. So why is she doing it anyway?

Well, the truth is, she started to work at Potage‘s Cauldron Shop because the branch in Knockturn Alley allowed her to overhear the telling chit chat between family members. Sellspeople are so easily overseen by the rich… It was one of the plans she had with which she talked her way into the Order. Told them that she had a great job where she could innocently inquire about this and that and learn about what was going on with the Dark Lord‘s supporters via their wives and babbling children. And because the shop is close to Borgin and Burkes, where a paternal great-uncle of her works, it not only put her parents at ease knowing he‘d look over Branwen, but also allowed her to be alone often, it was a winning argument.

What she tells her parents and everyone of the noble Pureblood Society, however, is: „I‘m doing this for fun.“ And it might‘ve been a lie once, but is it still?

Certainly, working as a friendly sellperson is mostly out of character for poor Branwen, who struggles with just letting the hostile comments of clients wash over her, but damn is she good at finding exactly the right cauldron the person is looking for. She‘s not someone who gives up or half-arses her job. If she is asked to help someone, find the exact right cauldron for a very specific potion, then she will not rest until that very cauldron has gone over the counter.

One day however she couldn’t find such a cauldron. So she went down into the cellar where the cauldrons are being made and it was the start unexpected: she began forging cauldrons herself. Manually. In the roaring fire, she‘ll stand for hours and hours, one hand holding the potion-soaked hammer, in the other the metal, as her mental strength turns into physical strength. She doesn‘t stop when the soot covers her face, doesn‘t stop when her clothes drench from the sweat, doesn‘t stop when her muscles begin shaking under the hard work. Seemingly inexhaustible she forges, refusing to think about how this work comes from a time when Muggles and Wizards still shared lives.

No one knows that she is more than a vendor, other than the other blacksmith, and she needs this to stay that way. She is proud of every single one of the cauldrons she makes, knowing they are perfect, but she is not proud of the manual labor. Yes, there is magic involved, but still. She is a Yaxley! And this is lower class labor at best… But there is something about holding the heavy hammer, about feeling the fire burn in her lungs that keep drawing her back down into the cellar, and she can‘t explain what it is. In a way she doesn‘t want to think about it, because what if she began to admire Muggles for their manual labor too? Began to envy them to live in a world without magic…

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

I think the bio does a beautiful job at explaining how Branwen feels around the Order.

On the one hand she just couldn‘t care less about the cause. She doesn’t care about morals or politics as long as the hierarchy of society stays in a way that she can keep her power, money and title. Most Death Eaters, she assumes are good, upright citizens, family and friends, who are just concerned about the Wizarding World. Not everyone who‘s on the Dark Lord‘s side immediately wants all Muggleborns dead, right? Most of them just want them apart so they can‘t mingle with the purity of their beautiful magical world, and isn‘t that very sensible? Surely most Muggleborns must agree, too!

On the other hand she has begun caring for the Order members. I love this part a lot so I don‘t want her to be too far into this caring yet but want to develop it as I play her. I don‘t want her to be too enamored with everyone just yet, but enough that she‘d consider some of them almost friends. When they talk to her about their private problems, she finds herself caring, and while she might hold back from seeking out their friendship, it‘s definitely begun forming, slowly, quietly, within her. No matter how much she pretends it hasn‘t, she can very much feel it. This feeling of fondness. Of admiration. Adoration, at times, even.

She values strength, doesn‘t she? She loves fighting and honours those who fight bravely as well. So this means two things:

One, her purpose in the Order is exactly that. She‘s not someone who will spy in other camps, or sit at home watching over a map like Edgar. She‘s someone who wants to be out on the field, her wand in her hand, curses on her tongue. And because she lacks moral values – the Death Eater values as much as the Order values – she has no trouble fighting with all her heart. She just wants to win, what for, it doesn‘t really matter. She just doesn‘t want to lose and so she fights without hesitation, and the other Order members will know that. That‘s perhaps why she‘s made it to Mid-Level at this point: because she has proven herself to be trustworthy on the battlefield. No hesitation, no laziness. When she fights, she fights. She‘s in it, with her heart, head and muscles.

Two, she has seen other Order members fight like that as well. When she initially joined she didn‘t know what she got herself into, perhaps even thought that they‘d need her to win this war. After all, they were just some silly rebels who just happened to oppose her cousin‘s side, she didn‘t really have faith in them. That‘s why she joined. To prove her cousin wrong. But then the months went by, years, eventually, and Branwen had to learn a harsh lesson: those people weren‘t joking around. They weren‘t wimps. They weren‘t pitiful. They were everything she had ever wanted to be, and at times even more.

Usually, when she argues with someone, duels them, she has no emotions or opinions about it afterwards. It‘s never really personal. During her time with the Order, she quarreled a lot (mostly with non-Muggleborns as explained above), however it never left her quite as cold as fighting did when she was young. She began rethinking what people told her in those arguments.

And instead of despising her for being so head-strong, she began admiring them for it. Especially because they didn‘t fight like her father did, with jabs and a smirk, solely to leave you emotionally wounded. They didn‘t do it like her mother did it, with physical violence, rather wanting to lame you than to allow you to take up space. No, what they did, how they defended themselves, is by simply … standing their ground. By reminding her of other people‘s freedom she endangers. By taking her by the hand and guiding her to show her that them (the people who they‘re trying to defend) being free, doesn‘t necessarily mean she won‘t have any left for herself. That true freedom means freedom for everyone.

She‘d rather cut out her tongue than speak about this to anyone, but it‘s there. This knowledge. She knows it has happened. She knows how she feels. And she fears how it‘ll make her decide one day…

SURVIVAL:

Being a pureblood with a well-known family, she doesn‘t struggle much in this war. As long as she gets her few hours at Potage‘s in, no one wonders what she‘s doing during the rest of the time. She officially lives with her aunt in a city house in Wizarding London, but she mostly comes by to take a shower and change her clothes. Most of the times she‘s out at night, enjoying life, not worrying too much about all this war-trouble, and convincing people to let her stay in their bed. Yes, bed. Do you think a Yaxley would settle for the couch?

In recent times, she‘s begun sleeping over at other Order members’ places more and more often. Perhaps because they don‘t ask questions like “so what are you going to do with your life now”? Perhaps because … no. Branwen refuses to see them all as friends. Some perhaps. Close acquaintances who she happens to trust with her life. But friends? Never.

And yet, when she speaks words of comfort, holding them shielded from dark incidents, promising to be there for them, she can‘t help but wonder how much of her freedom she‘s already given up for their love.

It conflicts her greatly. You wouldn‘t see it in the way she interacts with people, but it almost scares her, all this. The idea that they might lose this war. Because it would make her cousin all too happy, yes, but also because, well, what would happen to them? Trial? Azkaban? Death?

She condemns no one from her family to be on her opposing side and yet is quite glad they don‘t know on which side she‘s on. Perhaps because she knows that one day she‘ll see her parents‘ shoes under the Death Eater‘s robes and will have less than a second to figure out on whose side she‘s truly on.

RELATIONSHIPS:

It is safe to say that Branwen never really had friends.

At Hogwarts she was the kind of person to throw those (in)famous Gryffindor parties; aword from her and everyone would come. She knew everyone, and everyone knew her. A party thrown by her meant a good time. And people usually liked being around her. This went on even after Hogwarts, in Wizarding London. And yes, she‘s the type of person to call people she met a few times ‘friends‘, to treat them like buddies, touching them and talking to them as though she knew them for years. But real friends? People she trusted with her emotions? With her pain? With her fears? Those were incredibly rare. Countable on one hand.

One of those people is Alice Longbottom, as she proved herself from a young age on the type of person Branwen respects. I‘d need to plot with the player, of course, but I like to imagine that they got into a terrible fight-at-first-sight, and Alice won in such a glorious way, that Branwen couldn‘t help but feel that through her bruised ego, she was mostly just proud of Alice for having such a big dick energy. And because they spent so much time together, eventually, the deeper conversations started to unfold, and she did grow attached.

But this doesn‘t negate what I previously said. She‘s not someone to get all touchy-feely with, and so many people would never place her high on their friendship list, even if Branwen does like them a lot. Like, she might feel close to someone, but they‘d never think about inviting her to their intimate wedding “for family and just a few closest friends”.

So the war didn‘t change much. That she can‘t talk to her purebloodist friends about what she does outside of partying and working at Potage‘s, or that she can‘t talk to the Order members about how little she actually cares about their cause, doesn‘t really affect her relationships. She was never someone to just talk about how she truly felt, anyway.

On the contrary. Because around Muggleborns she‘s forced to shut up and listen, she might‘ve grown to learn how to actually listen to other people for once. Before, when someone talked in a way that bored or upset her, she‘d just say so. Around those she can‘t do this, she is forced to listen to their side of things, to their opinions, their feelings, and as the years with the Order went by, she might‘ve begun actually caring for other people on more than just surface level. She got to know them, and because they are all brave in their own way, she began to like them.

No, she never really had friends.

But at times she wonders if she wouldn‘t like to be friends with those in the Order…

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

As literally everyone else, I‘ll obviously say Branwen x chemistry. However, I do think that romantic/sexual relationships with men will be out of the question. Deep, important friendships as explained in the point above? Heck yes! But no romance.

Also, I do like the idea that Branwen might fall for a Muggleborn girl. Not just for the beautiful star-crossed lover trope but also just to explore her bias and morals. I think such a romance could work well for character-development.

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Muggles are inherently dirty. Werewolves (as well as other half-breeds) shouldn‘t even be just kicked out of society, they should be killed. Or at least be castrated. It‘s a shame to even consider them human, and allow them to perform magic. Muggle music is stressful and too loud and chaotic, there‘s no grace to it. The same goes for all their other art. Halfbloods can stay but their magic is weaker. The magic of Muggleborns is weaker as well, in fact, so weak, that Hogwarts shouldn‘t even seek out British Muggleborns but just let them stay in the Muggle world. Squibs should consider themselves lucky that they‘re made servants instead of being completely kicked out of society, as it would be the Wizarding World‘s right to do. It’s for people with magic, after all. A marriage between a Muggle and a Wizard/Witch should be forbidden. Salazar Slytherin was right when he said Hogwarts should stay clean of mudblood, as Muggles are known to be inherently hateful. They have proven themselves incapable of accepting magic and it‘s therefore for their best to keep them unknowing of the Wizarding World. After all, what if the Wizarding World ended up being revealed to the Muggles? Would they come hunting Witches again? Or would the Wizarding World have to force them into submission, into oppression, perhaps making slaves out of them the way they do it with Squibs? It’s just for their best to keep them away, really.

Here a handful of prejudices Branwen‘s fosters. But mind you, she is not only outspoken about them but also doesn‘t have enough … incentive to fight about it. None of this really regards her, she finds. She will fight about everything and anything, but not for moral reasons. As long as her status of a mightier Witch isn‘t doubted, she won‘t fight with people who say Halfbloods‘ magic is valid. However if they say it‘s as strong as hers, she‘ll want to fight to prove them wrong. So if the war would end in favour of the Order, she‘d be like, okay, as long as I get to keep my privileges. Being rich. Getting an education. Having people respect her noble status. Etcetera etcetera.

All those beliefs she holds are beliefs because they were taught to her as facts. Not as opinions. What drives people angry are when opinions are being challenged. “This movie was bad”. She‘d fight people on that. But the same way no one would fight another person about the colour of bananas, she has no reason to fight people about the dirtiness of Muggles. It‘s just a fact. They clean their houses with mops! So that‘s perhaps a reason why she manages to not get into arguments with other Order members. Because she either thinks them uneducated about certain topics – or her silence forces her to listen to what they call facts, quietly challenging what she thought to be the only truth.

[the-working-class-guide-to-films]

Green Book

How does a guy who has made such hits as: Dumb and Dumber, There’s Something About Mary, Shallow Hal; go and make something like the Green Book. Decent films, but they’re trash. They’re good trash, but nonetheless, trash. The Green Book was such a profound film, that I’m struggling to come to terms with the fact that Peter Farrelly, who directed this, also directed Movie 43, voted one of the worst films ever made. 

Green Book is about the famous black jazz artist, Dom Shirley, who hires Tony Vallelonga an Italian to be his bodyguard/driver whilst Dom tours the deep south of America with his band. Both are very different characters, Dom being reserved and particular, Tony, loud and abrasive, and also not a fan of black people in general, especially when he is bossed around by one.  As the film continues, we see how they both help each other to become a more rounded person, and how Tony learns to become a more thoughtful...well he stops being a racist.  

I found the film very enjoyable. I thought both Viggo Mortensen as Tony and Mahershala Ali as Dom were brilliant. There chemistry on screen really made the audience connect to the characters, both fantastic. I can’t judge Adam Driver as I never saw BlacKKKlansman, but Ali from the others I have seen should win the Oscar for Best Supporting Actor. Viggo has it tougher, although he was great, I still think Bale in Vice should win Best Actor, he was exceptional. Whilst the two actors drove the story forward and really made it enjoyable, they weren’t the only things. The story was well controlled and the pacing was just right. I’ve heard criticisms of the film saying it wasn’t hard hitting enough. I thought for the 12A rating it was dark enough to give the message without showing too much violence. It obviously easily could’ve done more in that respect, but the film wasn’t showing the effect of racism on a country-wide scale, but on the personal level between the two friends. It done enough to show that, without being too much. 

(i know this gif has absolutely nothing to do with Green Book, but man, Viggo, I love you)

I really loved everything about this movie, however it didn’t blow me away. It did feel a little bit too nice. That’s not meant to sound contradicting to my previous point, but I just felt something was missing from this film to make it really special. To give it 5 out of of 5 y’know. 

4/5 There were a lot of good things about this movie. The story was powerful and got it’s message about understanding and welcoming without ramming it down your throat. Mortensen and Ali were both fantastic however and all credit should go to them for making this movie as good as it was.

p.s I’ve been contemplating doing this p.s, I still don’t know if I will or not. But I saw this film the day after the Liam Neeson fiasco. And I just wanted to say how important it is to talk and have conversations. This isn’t the best platform, because your point will never come across as you want it to. You can’t explain it as well as you would talking about this, so bear with. What this film done well was show that Viggo had racist ideas, it showed him putting two drinking glasses in a bin because black people drunk from them. We can all agree that’s racist right. By the end of the 2 hour film, and the journey that these two completely opposite men went on, Viggo changed. He wanted more than anything to be with his new friend, a black man. He invites him to dinner, and is torn up with him not being there. He is so happy when he does show up. He’s a different man. He’s not the man now who would put drinking glasses in the bin because a black man drunk from them. He’s changed for the good.

Liam Neeson had racist thoughts. He may not be a racist man now, but he did have racist thoughts 40 years ago. What’s important is that he has changed and is ashamed of his irrational thinking. I think it is so important that these conversations are held. It offers people the chance to be educated and put to right. I’m a white straight guy. I understand racism, but I do not know racism. I don’t know what that feels like. And I’m certainly not here to say that people should forgive Liam Neeson, or hold this against him. I just believe that difficult conversations like race, like sexuality and others need to be freely held to have some understanding, so we can see a different view point. Whenever something like this pops up, which seems to be more frequent, I try to ask my black friends their opinions on the matter. I trust my own moral compass enough to have my own thoughts and feelings, most of the time, they say what I thought, but sometimes they make me see another viewpoint that I hadn’t considered, or even thought about because I, as a white guy do not see, no matter how much I try to understand. And I think that it is incredibly important that conversations like this are held. 

I think there is a problem with white people in the respect that they hear a black man they know and respect, John Barnes for example, say ‘Liam Neeson deserves a medal for having the courage to stand up and talk about this’ and then not consider that not every black person will think the same as this ONE black person. They will be annoyed and be like ‘well John is black and thought this, why don’t you?’. John Barnes is entitled to feel that way, and every black person is allowed to agree or disagree with him. It annoys me so much when I hear something like this. For the record, I don’t think Liam Neeson deserves a medal. 

I think this goes back to the whole argument about patriotism and about being English. I’m proud to be English, I’ve got my England flags flying outside my window during the World Cup, and I will loudly moan if someone is queuing up stupidly, and I will slap my hands on my knees and say ‘best be off’ when I wanted to leave 2 hours ago. But I understand why people do not like England, or more centrally, the British Empire. The British Empire committed horrific atrocities across the globe, they were murderers, rapists, the worst bunch of twats you could come across. The problem is, we aren’t taught about these things at school. We are only taught about the good things, Churchill winning the war (not the genocide he caused in India), Henry the 8th, and other stuff that is pleasant. It’s only that I took history as a subject that you start learning that Western Civilization were the bad guys, e.g Britain and America. I learned about The Troubles in Ireland, and how the Brits were at fault. I learned about Native Americans, and again how it was the Brits and the Americans who basically caused genocide to their people. But if you have a conversation with someone who doesn’t know, because they haven’t been educated, or haven’t had serious and deep conversations about the failures of a culture we have grown up believing ‘We are the good guys’ then they will think you are a nutjob. Again, education and conversation are crucially important to creating a better society. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nBy0FLAAwKQ

That’s a link to Trevor Noah talking about it. A lot funnier and eloquently put than me.

I know this has gone off topic, but I wanted to say this. Did Liam Neeson have racist thoughts. He sure did. Do I think that Liam Neeson is a racist person now? I don’t think it is up to me, a white guy, to determine if someone is or isn’t racist. I don’t think that white people, or anyone for that matter should just always get free passes to make mistakes. I think in 2019 the majority of people know the difference between wrong and right, and possibly only in youth are mistakes made. But I’m not naive enough to know that there are plenty of people old enough who continue to be, dicks. I just hope that we continue to have difficult conversations, I only believe it makes us grow, individually and collectively. And if you want to talk about this, if you think I’ve missed the point, or have something to add that would benefit me, then please, drop me a message. Don’t just call me a c*** like that one guy did when I said that Venom had some scenes that was full of toxic masculinity, that benefits nobody. Or even if you wanna talk about the film, which is what this blog was about, then please do that. Anyhoo, best be off!

[neth-dugan]

Nine Worlds - Friday

Thursday found [here]

After having had only a couple hours sleep, we got up and got ready for the day. Some of us took longer than others, and no that wasn’t me. @laalratty @knittedace and I went to get breakfast outside of costume and then went back to our rooms to get properly dressed. I also had a nap on the bed as the first session doesn’t start until 10am, which helped I think. But I did spend the rest of the day very tired.

EDUCATION AT HOGWARTS

The first panel I went to at the convention proper, and @unwoundbobbin was on it which was a bonus. 

It was a fun talk in which everyone agreed that education at Hogwarts is severely lacking, completely skips some very important subjects and really needs to look at quality of teaching.

As much as we are meant to root for Hogwarts and its independence, it’s an industry checking itself and what happens when people we don’t like are in charge? Someone said that it’s a great thing to show teachers who are fed up with having a curriculum and ofsted inspections. I agree. There was also a lot of talk that as much as muggle studies needs to be better and mandatory, there needs to be an introductory course for muggle raised students so they know what they’re getting into, the world they’re dumped in and so on. And, as a panelist pointed out, to better know all the shibboleths. She also mused that this may be exactly the reason they don’t do that and honestly, probably true.

ACE REPRESENTATION

So, I did a panel on a similar theme several years back and I was curious how this one would go. It took a different tone but times have moved. A lot of the panelists are relatively new to the community but then there was Nat Titman who is one of the founding persons of the asexual community. 

I didn’t learn a lot, but it was nice to be in a room with a ton of aces talking about ace things. Aros talking about aro things. People still hating on Moffat for the crap he has spewed. Being inclusive aof aros and demis. Which I know for a fact meant a lot to some, as I was talking to a demi person at that meeting later that day who brought it up. I got to espouse my theory on how Yuuri Katsuki is so so very demi even if language, culture and censorship means it’ll never be explicitly canon. 

BSL FOR GEEKS

This was amazing! I know how to say thank you and ‘g’ and that is it. So this was pretty great. Aside from being able to tell you my name at the end, I was delighted to learn the sign for Star Trek is literally the Vulcan salute. I also learnt how to say ‘Space, the final frontier’ though I probably do it with a massive accent. I learnt that this is the new sign coming up for trans:

...and tumblr provides a demonstration of this. Not video from the con.

Which is related to the sign for soul.  Also I learned the sign that’s becoming popular for queer which is a ‘q’ in the motion of a rainbow and it’s awesome.

There were lots of character names and phrases and there’s no way I’m going to remain most of it. And I had a weird hand thing going on that this made worse. So by the end of it, my hand hurt a fair bit. But it was fantastic. It was presented by a a group of interpreters and deaf people who bounced off of each other really well. One person even forgot how to spell their own name. But given a person who shall remain nameless forgot what their name even was at a different session? This isn’t the worst I heard of. 

I really loved it, and this was one of my favourite sessions at the entire convention. I wanted to go to the after dark one for adults only, in which there’d be swearing, but alas I had to take care of my hand and so decided it was a no go.

EVERYBODY HATES MORAL PHILOSOPHERS: THE ETHICS OF THE GOOD PLACE

I’m a big fan of this show. I came across it on Netflix and then got my Mom into it and it is brilliant. It’s smart and funny and thinky all at once. This session was more of a lecture than a panel or workshop which fit, because the person giving it is a philosophy professor. Not a moral philosopher, but a philosopher.

It turns out that it isn’t so much that everyone hates moral philosophers, it’s just really hard to be one. But whilst we were waiting for the session to start I spotted a person in front of me dressed up as Janet. I asked to confirm and was told, perfectly in character that interesting fact, they were Janet. And proceeded to give me a cactus sticky note with a Janet phrase on it. I sent a photo and a test to my Mom who loved it.

 ...I do have a picture, but didn’t ask permission to post on the internet so here is a close approximation minus cactus. 

The lecture itself was pretty interesting. Turns out the writers are using real philosophy and real books and theories and the like when making the show. I can see how Chidi would get so anxious if he follows Kant. Even the text books given to Eleanor are ones the speaker has themselves and sees as foundational texts. So yay! She went through a few schools of philosophy that pop up in the show and it was fun.

Someone pointed out that it seemed that each of the human four seemed to be missing one of the classical virtues. The speaker agreed. There was lots of debate about fair or just the system in this show is, and also how much about it we can objectively know given Michael’s aim in the first season. I pointed out that the entire thing seemed to be unfair to those with disadvantages or some mental health conditions. The last episode of the latest season, without getting into spoilers too much, entirely takes advantage of things about two characters that they’ve no way of doing away with and/or find near impossible to control. It sucks. There seemed to be agreement on this. Privilege, it seems, exists in the systems of The Good Place as we currently know them.

ASSIMILATION AND IDENTITY IN STAR TREK

This was a session hosted by Jaime who some may know and is pretty awesome. I don’t always agree with them on everything but I do appreciate them. And I didn’t agree with a good amount of what was said here. Not that I think it’s wrong, just that some of it is a matter of perspective and assigning aims and motivations to characters that aren’t, to me, clear in canon. I tend to think Worf handed his son off to his parents because he never asked for a kid, didn’t know he had one, works a dangerous job, has no experience parenting and lives on a ship that goes through a major crisis on a fairly regular basis. But people can disagree.

There are some things about Trek that.... aren’t the best. The whole area around the Ferengi is a tricky area and a bit of a mess. I love them, I love the actors, I love some of their episodes, but there are anti-semitic tropes in there made all the more there by the fact that most of the Ferengi actors are of Jewish decent. It’s problematic. It’s meant to be a critic of capitalism and modern culture. Of US. I’ve heard various Trek folk basically state that of all the species in Star Trek, the Ferengi represent modern day humans. But. They fell back on some problematic crap and there’s no way of escaping that.

There was one point when I was a bit worried it was going to get a bit anti-atheist but it didn’t thank goodness. And that’s a whole other thing.

There’s a clip that’s pretty famous amongst DS9 fans, that you fan find here, that exemplifies some of what this panel was about. Not all of it, but some. It was running through my head for sure. After the session ended a group of us had a chat after. It brought up a lot of things to talk about, new ways of looking at things and agree or not that’s usually a good thing.

...Moogie!

‘OH, BRILLIANT.’ ANTICIPATING THE THIRTEENTH DOCTOR

This one had @knittedace on the panel! She’d been talking about doing it last year and here we were . She in her hand knitted Dalek dress, me in the audience feeling a bit woozy and tired. 

Mostly, it did exactly what the tin said. People being excited for Thirteen, recalling days when they’d written fic on the idea but never thought it possible, what people wanted to see or not see and the like. Mostly, it was a feel good panel with happy people glad for a new start that would bring in new and old fans alike.

Someone on the panel pointed out that for some kids, they’ll have never known a time when The Doctor couldn’t be a woman. For whom their Doctor is a woman. And that is amazing. And she gets to keep her accent too, and there is hope we will see some of the North this season. Not just more London, or Cardiff as London.

For myself, I’ve always figured some Time Lords could change genders and sexes. Some couldn’t. And doing so was some kind of Time Lord intersex thing. But I was never really rooting for a woman Doctor.... yet when they announced it was going to happen? I was excited and relieved in a way I hadn’t imagined I would be.

Bring it on.

INTERVAL

At this point I found myself in the bar with some ginger ale talking to some people I’ve never med before. One was a demi person who had been at the Ace Rep talk and was very relieved to see demis included. I explained about the history of the flag and how they’re explicitly on it. Outside of some gatekeepers, the ace community I know has always embraced those other identities under the ace umbrella. 

Me, them and a friend of theirs made our way downstairs after a good chin wag to get good seats for the next panel. We figured we’d probably need them and coincidentally we were all going to the same one. 

FROM A/B/O TO DUBIOUS CONSENTACLES

I’m still not sure what dubious consentacles are to be honest. My mind goes to dubcon hentai but I’m probably wrong. This panel was after 10pm, the last of the day and very much adult only. I was in my TNG uniform and there was a Trek fan vid screening in the room across the hall so a volunteer checked I was where I wanted to be whilst we were waiting for it to start. Which was sweet, people do get lost down there.  Also, @unwoundbobbin was there which was a hoot.

The entire thing was a hoot to be honest. Not that formal, and mostly people sharing things they’d seen online, talk about the value of tagging, and wonder at the way fandom just comes together and decides on what dubious biology looks like. I shared the story of the early early days of Star Trek fandom how writers would come up with new weird and wonderful ways of depicting Spock’s genitals. I just think it’s something everyone should know. Fandom has been like this for a long time. 

I wont go into detail of the things discussed. But it’s amazing how trends change over time, how even over multiple fandoms some of these tropes become so accepted nobody has to explain anything. We just know how it works and dive right into a kind of shared ‘verse thing.

There were some things mentioned that I hadn’t heard of and are very much not talking about on this post. But interesting.

Honestly, this was another of my favourite panels this convention. It was so much fun. So much. Some people were a bit tipsy I think.

I did warn the two mods that I was pretty tired so if my eyes looked funny or closed, I wasn’t asleep, I was just squinting. I got so enthused by the cracky fun of it all though that I needn't have worried. I also found it amusing just how many ace spectrum folk there were there. 

After this I went back to my room. I got changed, went to bed hoping for a better night sleep than the one before. So very very tired. I’d had a great day but I was tired and I needed sleep urgently. Especially as the tired thing was not helping the dizzy thing. Thankfully I did get some sleep, not as good as home but I god some. 

[SATURDAY IS HERE]

[homophilus1]

Entry #002

Dear stranger

I’m back. Too soon? Well, I don’t care. Time doesn’t exist anyway. We all go round in circles.

It’s time to share some thoughts I had while reading the Philosopher’s Stone (yes, I decided to invoke the holy magic today. I really missed being home.)

We naturally feel a degree of empathy for Harry, so does that mean that we should strive to be more like him? Is that the right path? Is it even about the right path? What does the right path mean? And of course, it’d only be right by Rowling’s point of view, right?

Ah, cynicism. How it slips in naturally these days. They really got to me, didn’t they? And I let them. I guess it’s a choice, in the end, then. If there is no right or wrong, if there is no point to life, then everything is a choice, which has no meaning either.

I envy the lives of religious fanatics. They look happy in their blissful unawareness and blind faith. If blind faith in a text is what it takes to be happy, I’d rather it be something I agree with inherently, than fake it. I’m tired of lying to myself. It’s gonna be Harry Potter for me.

1. "...he didn’t approve of imagination.”

They don’t like imagination, therefore imagination must be good.

2. “Albus Dumbledore didn’t seem to realise that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome.”

Do you see? Anyone who’s different is always unwelcome. That’s part of what it means to be different, I guess. That’s exactly why the people who value your points of difference are so precious. :)

3. “I wouldn’t be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in future - there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!”

“Exactly... It would be enough to turn any boy’s head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won’t even remember! Can’t you see how much better off he’ll be, growing up away from all that until he’s ready to take it?”

I hate to say this, but I must admit I agree with Albus Dumbledore, at least in this one instance. I’m very conflicted about it, though. Look, Harry did turn out to be a fine young lad. His morals were in the right place. And he was, in general, a nice guy. Someone you’d (I’d) consider to be one of the good people in this world. So, is it because he went through a childhood of humility and pain that he turned out thus? You’d say so, right?  So then, is pain necessary to be a good person? Do you see what I’m getting at here? Should we romanticise pain, if it is necessary for good character? Makes me think of what it’s like raising kids in this world. “The broken are the more evoled...”

4. “Scars can come in useful.”

Need I say much more? Will you now stop caring about your face and its flaws that seem so magnified to you whenever you look in the mirror? After all this time? The different ones don’t care about the scars. (A bit of a Joker reference there)

5. “Yes, yes, it’s all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we’ll be found.”

Wizards, even when they’re so powerful, always fear persecution when they are around Muggles. What you’re feeling is normal. You’re different. It’s not your fault you feel threatened around these people.

6. “He had a funny feeling he’d had the same dream before.”

If all our dreams are a reflection of our subconscious, and our subconscious is derived from the distant conscious, then do dreams, in fact, reflect reality? Albeit in a somewhat distorted way? Does every dream mean something? Maybe that you attach importance to a particular memory, person or idea? Or at the very least, that you’re searching for answers?

7. Don’t ask questions - that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.

Ask questions. The curiosity has been snuffed out of you. Maybe by fear of criticism, maybe by laziness. Either way, you have to try and revive it.

8. ‘Little tyke wants his money’s worth, just like his father...’

Look, if you think about it, that’s a perfectly valid, positive way to take this entire situation. Any motivational speaker, for instance, could have derived this message and used it to influence thousands in a ted talk. But is there a clear right and a wrong beneath this ambiguity? Dudley wanting more gifts... Why is this wrong? Okay, no gratitude. Granted. But then, is wanting anything in life considered not being grateful for what you already have? In that case, are all of us in wanting more for ourselves? How is this behaviour of Dudley any different? He isn’t particularly harming someone else’s rights or well being. I mean, wanting to murder someone is wrong because the other person loses his/her/their life. But wanting more gifts? His parents can perfectly well afford to buy him gifts, in fact, they’re happy to do so (at least, externally). “It’s not nice... He’s a spoilt brat.” Why? Why, I just don’t understand why. This matter remains unresolved.

[midcing]

okay so i have some New Kids.... they are all trash but some of them are trying their best which should honestly count for something imho... i’ll probably bring some more muses in at some point during this week bc i legit have 25 apps in my drafts right now and i just didn’t apply for all at once bc didn’t want to overwhelm myself... honestly tho? i want all the plots.... so like... pls like this and i’ll im you or come to me throwing ideas at my face so we plot and have some connections and threads ?? love my new trash sons pls ?? thanks !

JAMES WEST looks an awful lot like CHARLIE WEBER. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re LOGICAL, they have a tendency to get pretty CONTRARY. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to POLARIZE by TWENTYONEPILOTS.

inspired by ;; frank delfino from htgawm, walter white from breaking bad and jaime lannister from game of thrones. 

a lawyer

has 2 daughters.

would probably start a war for both of them if they asked him to.

thinks his daughters are angels who can do no wrong. if he saw them murdering someone in front of him, he would probably come up with a reason why they were doing it and defend them which isn’t great bc they are both like wild kids who are not actual angels ( wc ?? anyone ?? i’m trash for families ngl )

sketchy morals at best? ? doesn’t think of himself as someone who would do anything wrong but if something wrong is being done for his benefit he is sure as hell not gonna stop it

got into an ivy league school because his father - criminal known for money laundering, corruption, and fraud - donated a huge sum of money to the college. will die pretending he got in on his own merit 

the older brother of my character mark west bc i love families sue me

would probably google ‘how to know if i am a dilf’

says thing like ‘lit’ and ‘on fleek’ to relate to the youth

pretends everything is fine until it blows up in his face

wants to much ! a perfect life, a perfect house, a perfect family, a perfect wife, a perfect job ! pretty good ? nah. not good enough for james west. scratch that and start again. everything must be 10/10

wants to be everybody’s dad even tho he isn’t a great dad to his two kids

will make your life choices for you if you let him

will bail you out of jail but only if he is allowed to give you a 3 hour lecture on Responsibility 

will logic his way out of moral conundrums

the kind of person that turns a blind eye to corruption if it benefits him in some way

tries his best, which really honestly can only be said about 5% of my characters, so i would give him some credit

if you ask him a question he doesn’t want to answer he will just straight up ignore the question and change the subject 

feels guilty about the way his helps criminals and does wrong stuff for his benefit and the benefit of the people he loves but also doesn’t try to change

aesthetics — watching the sunset through the office window, loud alarms playing an hour later than it should, unrecognizable reflection in the mirror, child laughter and the heavy feeling of stress in your chest, hushed whispers of assertions amidst a crowd, old wedding rings saved away after the divorce, big houses and empty space, thousand dollar watches, the smell of jail permanently stuck to a three piece suit, painfully happy memories, ignoring the way guilt makes it hard to breath, arguing in a favor of a guilty party.

FRANK HAMILTON looks an awful lot like DAVID HARBOUR. HE is FORTY ONE and while they’re DEVOTED, they have a tendency to get pretty UNPRINCIPLED. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEDATED by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; hank from detroit become human and chief hopper from stranger things

                                                              tw: gambbling, alcoholism

a mess trying to pass for a functioning human being

he is a dirty cop that accepts bribes to let people off the hook and gets money from gangs to look the other way when he knows they will be doing something wrong somewhere bc he truly cannot bring himself to care

honestly i have no excuses for his behavior

has a huge problem with gambling. 

born in kola. lived in kola for almost 30 years. moved out after his marriage fell apart, but has recently moved back

the kind of human being who thinks blood and gasoline are sexy

the kind of person that goes All Fucking Out for things and then when things don’t turn out exactly how he expected them to he makes a fuss about it and goes like “why did i even bother?”

will call you out on your bullshit and then act like people just throw shit at other’s face like that. stare you in the eye after exposing you and ask ‘what?’

says stuff like ‘i might be a shitty person but at least i’m upfront about it’ and ‘i prefer not to get involved in people’s lives.’

there is no such thing as a acquaintances. frank either loves you with all his heart and would kill a man for you OR he hates you and the fact that you are able to talk annoys him

you’ve heard of overachivers ?? well frank  is here to present you A True Underachiever. he tries to do the bare minimum amount of work possible 

the personification of /r/notmyjob

would probably go to an underground fighting ring for fun

channels his unhappiness into unhealthy habits. drinks too much, smokes too much. doesn’t do anything to change the fact that he is unhappy

gambled his marriage away by which i mean he gambled everything owned away and kept trying to find excuses for it until she was done and left . he still loves her but he feels like shit and he doesn’t wanna drag her back into his shitty life ( wc ? pls ? )

moved away from kola when his marriage ended and went to las vegas. lived there until he got in dept there too and he couldn’t find anywhere else to play then came back to kola 

at some point was wide-eyed and hopeful and interested in helping people but slowly became unhappy with how he didn’t go anywhere, didn’t become better, greater, didn’t do more and then slowly things just went to shit

aesthetics — casual cruelty in the name of honesty, cigarette buds collecting on an old ashtray, crumbled dollar bills found between couch cushions, falling asleep at three o’clock and waking up the next day, bloody knuckles, handcuffs and police siren, the smell of alcohol in your breath at ten in the morning, unironed shirts and old cologne, knowing something is wrong but doing it anyway, ignored calls from concerned family members, remembering you have to do something just as it is too late to do it, the thrill in heartbeat when you land a punch in someone’s face, drunk steps stumbling out of the bar, begging people for one more chance.

SEBASTIAN “BASH” VANCOOP looks an awful lot like LIAM PAYNE. HE is TWENTY TWO and while they’re CHARMING, they have a tendency to get pretty SELFISH. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to PLAY ME LIKE A VIOLIN by JEREMY.

inspired by ;; hakeem lyon from empire and aaron burr from hamilton

that one sort of famous person that is always shirtless in other famous’ people instagram stories

treats people like things he can use and drop when he gets tired of

fake af. will say he likes you and then shit talk about you behind your back

that one person that goes ‘ooooooooooh you are gonna let them talk like that about you ?? ’ when other people are fighting 

only wears prada chanel and gucci

can actually be really nice if you get to know him but how ? when there are three hundred walls up ??

thinks people are gonna take advantage of him or make fun of him so he just doesn’t trust anyone. can’t get betrayed if you never let anyone in right ??

doesn’t understand internet culture

was born in an insanely rich family. his father was a famous movie producer and his mother was a famous movie star. picture like spielberg as his dad and kate winslet as his mom 

hates when people say like ‘Oh So You Are [    ]’s son?’

the first movie he was ever in was when he was about 5

he was in a bunch of movies from ages 5 to 12 but it was never really anything big. he was just the main character’s kid or that one kid that doesn’t get much screen time in movies like goonies

he never really liked acting but what else woUld he do ?? look at his family !! look at his legacy !! [ cue ‘wait for it’ from the hamilton soundtrack playing in the background ]

when he was 20 his father produced and directed a movie in which he stared. it was like his first Real role in hollywood action blockbuster. before the movie was out there was this whole hype about him and his dad working together and wow it’ll be awesome but it pretty much bombed. picture like After Earth bomb. everyone shit talking about him and the movie and how dumb it is on youtube bomb. the movie doesn’t get money to pay for itself bomb.

despite the fact that his parents said it didn’t matter. it was just a bad movie. everyone making fun of him and people shit talking about how he didn’t have his parents’ talent got to him real bad. he stopped acting all together.

his parents keep telling him to Do Something but he just doesn’t

is living in kola bc LA is a dumb of reminder of everything he thinks he did wrong

aesthetics — the blinding lights of camera flashes, the light feeling of being drunk, loud songs blaring through club speakers, interviews stopped halfway through, rude comments and anger, crowded parties in expensive summer homes, the overwhelming feeling in your chest when someone gets too close to fast, feigned charm and stranger’s company, running out of things to say after you have known someone for a while, wasted champagne dripping off a tilted bottle and loud laughter coming from the other room, the slow but continues pain in your heart that reminds you you are disappointment.

MATTHEW “MATTEO” DECKER looks an awful lot like JON BERNTHAL. HE is FORTY TWO and while they’re WILLFUL, they have a tendency to get pretty BLUNT. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEVEN NATION ARMY by THE WHITE STRIPES.

inspired by ;; frank castle from daredevil, frank castle from the punshiner, frank castle from the born comics series. ( they are three different people, fight me ) seeley booth from bones in season five

                                       tw: alcoholism, ptsd, mention of army, and war

former us marine

mostly goes by decker. his family used to calls him matteo but when other people do it it’s like .. “no”

you have been heard of resting bitch face ? matteo is here to show you the resting i fucking hate you face

swears too much like Wayy too much

he can be honestly really fucking soft i’m ngl but then you gotta be that one person that breaks down walls and again ? who has the time for that ? in the twenty first century?

wants to take care of everyone but pretends he is not interested in people bc he “Knows” everyone is gonna die or leave so there is no fucking point

actually just pretends he isn’t The Absolute Softest for everyone and tries to keep them all at arm's length but then people say ‘hi’ and are nice to him and he is like ‘Fuck me now i like them’

can actually laugh and make jokes which is Impressive imo

but then goes back to being bitter and angry at life

too straight up about things : could heavenly benefit from learning how to read social cues

you have to Tell him things if you want him to understand it. you can’t go around dropping hints. he won’t get it.

drinks his coffee black and without sugar

enlisted when he was eighteen bc patriotism and american dream and red white and blue stars but then that slowly stopped being the point. then he was just doing it bc He had been doing that for years what else would he do ? and then at some point he just saw too much … and then when he was discharged he just Never came back

after he came back he couldn’t find a job and he didn’t know what else to do and he slowly started getting involved with shady stuff and now he sells drugs to pay the bills

disappointed in who he is right now. 

he is honestly Trying his very best.

aesthetics — punching a wall until your hands stings and your chest doesn’t anymore, the pleasant light feeling of holding back laughter, completed tasks and unachievable peace of mind, low chatter in dive bars in dark parts of town, questioning your belief system, roadside motels and failing neon lights, moonlight coming through the bedroom window, leaving the morning after, combat boots, loud honking cars and shaky hands, fighting the urge to shove someone away when you feel their touch against your skin, quiet places and pleasant loneliness, old dusty books and rock music, waking up multiple times in the middle of the night, whiskey mixed with coffee

OCTAVIANUS BRUNO GENTILLE looks an awful lot like FRANCOIS ARNAUD. HE is THIRTY SIX and while they’re ROMANTIC, they have a tendency to get pretty UNREALISTIC. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SOMEONE NEW by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; jay gatsby from the great gatsby, romeo from romeo and juliet, tom hansen from (500) days of summer, a slam poem i saw on youtube once

                                              tw: bullying, mention of learning disabilities and stutter

romanticized every bad thing that happened in his life.

will romanticize every bad thing that ever happened in your life.

the kind of person that says “things happen for a reason…”

goes by his middle name. honestly thinks his first name is the Most Stupid Thing In The World if you call him octavianus he’ll be legit annoyed. kids used to make fun of him at school all that jazz. just call bruno

he is legit in love with italian culture and history. his father was italian and he just highkey Cannot Shut Up About It

art history professor in kola’s college

the kind of professor that just loves what he is doing… you know when the professor like kinda looks excited that he is talking or sharing knowledge or just talking about shit they truly like ? that is bruno

a nerd but pretends he isn’t

could not do a one night stand without catching feelings if his life depended on it

loves people too much too fast with all his heart

there is an argument to be made for him not actually falling in love with people and just with the idea of love that he made up in his mind but let’s get to that when we get to that

will spend the entire lesson arguing with one student about how inaction in our current political climate is just as harmful as supporting people who are doing harm when he was supposed to be talking about impressionism or something like that

thinks people have a soulmate and he is just trying to find his

100% not only Shows up to slam poetry sessions but Helps organize them

real political. the type of person that rallies when things are wrong and gets others to do it

has too many exes

posts pictures with his current girl/boyfriends on instagram and then doesn’t delete them when they break up bc ‘that’s who i was at that moment’

can recite poetry for you in italian but do not let him trick you. he’ll only be around for the honeymoon phase of the relationship then he’ll be like wow this isn’t perfect. time to end it

loves art !! all type of art !! is terrible at all of it : writing, panting, photography. but he loves it and he does it despite being bad and he tells people to do what they love !! and follow their dreams !!

his parents got a divorce when he was 7 and it was pretty bad. his dad was italian and moved back to italy shortly after. his mother was from kola and he stayed with her.

it was as if his world had fallen apart at that. bruno had never even seen his parents fight and then one day his father just moves out to Another Country he was pretty lost and confused

bruno moved back and forth between italy and the u.s. throughout most of his childhood and adolescence. never spending a lot of time in one place.

though his parents tried to remain friends after the divorce for his sake it never really worked out. his father wanted his mom back while his mother moved on and got married again.

growing up, he had a lot of trouble with accents and language. his father used to speak only italian at home. and his mother used to speak only english.

he developed a learning disability and a stutter after his parents got divorced

kids in school used to make fun of him. the way he talked and his name specially.

doesn’t stutter anymore but when he is talking about something that is hard to talk about, he talks really slowly to make sure the words come out properly

aesthetics — ukulele songs playing softly in a room with echo, piano recitals with ten people in the audience, walking around aimlessly, kissing greek statues, being happy that you are sad because it means that you are alive, cheering on others success, lacking ambition and living the present, old songs hummed in the shower, waking up early and staying in bed until 10am, cuddling under warm blankets, failing in love with a stranger, laughing loudly with new friends, white wine, beautiful paintings in an empty museum, admiring something for way too long,

ANTHONY MILLER looks an awful lot like JOSH DALLAS. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re PATIENT, they have a tendency to get pretty SELF-RIGHTEOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to JACKIE AND WILSON by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; prince charming from once upon a time, ned stark from game of thrones, bob belcher from bob’s burgers

                                                                      tw: cancer

cannot talk about his feelings . cannot accept his own mistakes . cannot show weakness . at any point. no matter the subject . cannot let anyone take care of him.

Must be the best at all times for everyone and take care of everyone

self-care is a myth anthony does not believe in

works too much

he needs glasses to read stuff but he pretends he doesn’t so he does that squinting and pulling things close to his face thing. at which point you would probably ask ‘anthony if you don’t want to wear glasses wouldn’t it be easier ? to just ? wear contact lenses ?’ and yes it would it definitely would but anthony likes to make things harder for himself

slow to anger but he has that temper that you literally cannot see coming. he looks serious and stoic and then wow thunderfucking storms breaking chairs and stuff

loves beers and american football

the type of person that says this generation is lost

might smoke too much but he doesn’t talk about that

he doesn’t talk about anything actually

although i love him with all my heart. i would not rec

there is a right way to do stuff and anthony as the holder of all the knowledge and morality Must tell you about it

rarely ever smiles bUT when he does ? smiles like a prince. if we had a royal verse he’d be the king of the entire universe honestly.

he was a oldest child in a family of 7. his parents were super wealthy and he was the One favorite child who both parents used to love and cherish and cheer on.

he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. his parents didn’t want him to marry her bc she was Poor and Not up to standards but he chose love over his family and got disowned for that. hasn’t talked to his family since

his dream life was always to have the perfect picket fence house and american dream type of family. it was supposed to be him, his wife, his son and maybe some day he would have a daughter and it would Be great

he and his wife had a son and they named him hendrix bc she loved rock and jimi hendrix and he loved the name even tho he never liked rock. but honestly ? he was so weak for her he would have loved the name lkgjdflajf if she suggested it

a few months after their first son was born tho she was diagnosed with cancer and a few months later she passed away

after that he raised his son by himself. he really threw himself into it. spent most of his life focused on it and work and now his son is going to college and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

the only person he ever Truly dated was his wife and then he just focused on his son and raising him so he never really allowed himself to date bc then he would have to introduce someone else to his son’s life and all that … sO anthony is usually all cool and fine and then you show romantic interest in him and there is like a visible shift ya know? like he goes from anthony to a truly profoundly awkward person trying to pretend it’s cool

aesthetics — organized work tables, color coded to-do lists, trying your very best at all times, mental exhaustion showing through physical symptoms, dad jokes and laughing by yourself, the smell of new books, comfort found in old libraries, forgetting your reading glasses at home, losing your temper and breaking something, old family photos lost somewhere in the attic, pushing someone else on a swing, sundays afternoons lost at the park, working extra hours instead of going home, cold breeze and hugging yourself to your jacket, trying to explain to someone why they are wrong when they don’t want to listen

[seokkgenie]

Star-Crossed (two)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: soulmate au, smut, angst

Words: 5.3k

Warning:Mature content ahead; mentions of death

one | two | Epilogue (coming soon)

You shifted uncomfortably in the bed, the scorching heat from the sun’s rays finding themselves onto your eyes, burning you. You groaned as you opened your eyes, rubbing them. You managed to sit up and reach out to the window to shut the blinds. You lay down again to fall asleep but memories of the events of the previous night jerked you awake.

You blushed remembering the sex, but it wasn’t long until you were also reminded of what you had dreamed of and what Jungkook had muttered after that.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

You look around the room and breathed a sigh of relief to not find him there. The last thing you needed was to deal with the consequences of a one night stand. You had barely gotten any sleep last night. Hearing his sleep talk had startled you and, actually, scared you quite a bit. You had lied down staring at the ceiling long after he had stopped murmuring and no matter how much you had tried, you couldn’t get yourself to sleep. Your mind was filled with questions and the sound of his breathing made you hyper aware of the fact that he was sleeping on your bed, next to you, barely wearing any clothes.

You had wanted to ask him why he had called you ‘yeonhee’ right after you had a dream in which that was your name. You couldn’t find any rational explanation for it and you obviously didn’t want to wake him up and question him. He would have probably thought that he had slept with a crazy person and regretted the whole thing.

You looked at the small digital clock. 8:17 am. You willed yourself to get out of the comfortable bed and head into the shower. You had been so tired the previous night that you had failed to realize how sticky and gross you were after the sex.

As the hot water hit your body, you sighed, the hangover caught up to you and you had a throbbing headache.  But, that didn’t stop your mind from diverting itself towards thinking about how your so called rest days had been turned into this mess.

It’s okay, you thought. It was a coincidence. No. I heard it wrong. He didn’t say what I think he did.

It’s okay. I’ll probably never see him again.

That thought was supposed to make you feel relieved. But, your heart sank knowing that he had left without saying a word. You tried again to convince yourself that you were thinking too hard. This is how one night stands worked and you should be glad that you had initiate yourself into the casual hookup culture.

When you got out of the shower, you took an aspirin and decided to order some hangover food that Korea is famous for. While you waited for your food to arrive, you decided to call Hoseok. He had left around ten missed calls and double that amount of worried messages.

“Hello?” he answered after just a few rings. Too few, as far as you were concerned.

“Hi. Wow. How long had you been staring at your phone, creep?” you asked, smiling. Just hearing his voice made you feel a little less disoriented.

He ignored your question and said, “Why have you been mia since last night?”

“I was out. And then I was busy. No biggie.”

“Do you know how worried I have been? Holy shit, I was about to call the cops.” He yelled.

“Calm down, Hoseok. I’m alright. Except for this raging hangover and shame.” You almost whisper the last line.

He paused. SO you ask, “Hello? Hoseok? Are you still there?”

“Yes.” He replied. “What do you mean shame?”

You sighed. “Hoseok, promise me you won’t judge me.” You bit your lip, hoping to hear a favorable reply from your friend. As soon as the words had left your mouth, you regretted saying anything. The last thing that you needed was to have the only person whom you trusted in your new life to think badly of you.

Luckily, him being the ray of sunshine that he was made you feel like you could tell him anything. “Y/n, you know I would never judge you. I’m your friend! You can tell me anything.”

“Hoseok, I….” you took a deep breath and massaged your temples with your free hand. “I met someone last night. I.... and I slept with him.”

Hoseok didn’t say anything. The worry was back and you wanted to punch yourself for being an idiot who cannot keep any secrets.

Suddenly, your ears were filled with loud cackling. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Are you serious?” he asked. “That’s great! I was beginning to think that you were a hermit.”

“Shut up.” You heaved a sigh of relief. “So, you don’t think I am easy and slutty and gross?”

“Oh, come on! After all the feminist rants that you’ve put me through, how can I think like that? In your words, a woman’s worth is not measured by the weight of her sexual choices.”

You laughed along with him. “I’ve taught you well.”

“But, who is this guy? How did you meet? When are you seeing him again? Do you want some recommendations for nice date places?”

“Slow down, dude.” You interrupted him. “I don’t think I’ll see him again.”

Every time you admitted it, you felt the same sinking feeling, but you shake it off. “It was a one night stand.”

“Does he have your number?” Hoseok asked.

“I think so. We exchanged numbers at the bar.”

“Do you want to meet him again?” He seemed to be interrogating you at this point.

The question took you off guard. Did you want to meet him again?

“I think so. But it’s a little complicated.”

“What’s the problem?”

You were quiet again. There was no way to explain it to Hoseok, or to anyone else why you were hesitating, at least not without recounting your recurring nightmares. That most definitely meant exposing yourself to the danger of being termed as crazy.

“It’s a long story, I’d rather not speak about it right now.” You replied, hoping he would let it go.

“How about you take some time and think about it for now? We can talk about this when I get back. Alright?”

You sighed. “Okay. I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Unfortunately.” He replied making you smile again.

“Shin!” you call him out. You were standing on a balcony. The walls made of grey stone and the marble floors were pristine white.

He looks up at you from below. He smiles and your heart almost leaps out of your chest. You both didn’t care about the dozens of eyes watching you. Behind Shin, his brother enters the foyer in which they stood and he asks the soldiers and servants to give you privacy. You move your eyes away from Shin and onto his brother.

“You came too, Yoon Orabeoni!” He smiles up at you.

He nods and replies, “Of course, I did. My brother needs all the moral support that he can get.”

You laugh, agreeing with him. With Lee Yoon here to support you, there was no way your parents wouldn’t agree to Shin and your request. When the future King of the land wants something, he probably gets it. You stubborn father stood no chance against the King who’s army he headed.

You run downstairs eager to catch up to the brothers.

As soon as you burst through the doors, you run towards Shin and wrap your hands around his neck and he reciprocates by placing his hands around your waist and lifting you up slightly and turning around in a full circle. You giggle and say, “I missed you.”

“I love you.” He replies and you blush, the words still make your heart race. The first time he had said that, you had been dumbstruck for a full minute. Having your childhood friend say that to you was not something that you had imagined.

“Save this for after your father agrees to let you marry Shin.” Yoon says and you both look at him.

“Everything will be okay, right. Orabeoni?” you ask, nervously. Shin weaves his fingers into your’s.

Yoon moves forward and gently touches your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Yeonhee.” He then looks at his yonger brother and gives him a reassuring nod.

You say in a soft voice, “My father wants me to marry you.”

“I know.” Yoon says. “He wants you to be the queen.”

“No,” you reply, sensing Shin’s uneasiness next to you, brought on by this topic and you hold onto his hand a little tighter. “He wants to be more powerful. Nobody cares about what I want, or what we want.” You stress on the ‘we’ to indicate how much out of your control all of your lives had been since you were born to royal and noble households.

“I care.” Yoon says, then after a pause he starts again, “Trust me, when I’m king, we’ll all be happier.”

Yoon hadn’t known back then how wrong his words would turn out to be.

 After that night with Jungkook, you didn’t wake up in the middle of the night due to the nightmare, but you had other dreams about the same people. You saw the same places and felt the same emotions. It was as though a story was suddenly unfolding and somehow you felt like you were an integral part of it. You felt kinship with the people that you dreamed about and you felt miserable thinking about the fate of their story that you were all too familiar with.

You spent all of your time thinking about your dreams. You piecing together the story that was playing in your mind while you were deep in sleep. You spent the first few days in a daze, doing the bare minimum and setting up a routine for yourself where all you did was go to work and then home, refusing any plans that Hoseok tried to involve you in.

Hoseok was adamant, “Come on, Y/n! Please!”

“Hoseok, please. You know I don’t like crowds.” You replied. Over the course of your friendship he had noticed that you seemed to hate crowds. He didn’t know that the fear was instilled in you when you had dreamt about a different realm for the first time. Crowds reminded you of the one in tour dream-surrounding you pitifully, looking, judging and consuming.

“I’ll be with you the whole time! It’s the Cherry Blossom Festival, y/n. We just have to see it!”

“Shouldn’t you go there with a date?” you asked, sighing.

“We can go on like a friend date thing, okay?” he pouted.

“That’s not a thing.” You sometimes hated how stubborn he could get. He looked at you, a sad expression etched on his face. You had no choice but to give in. “Fine.” You agreed and his face lit up, his heart shaped smile making you want to mirror his expression

 “What are you doing?” he asks you and you look up at him. You don’t reply, still angry from the events of the day. You had a knife in your hand, it’s handle made of bronze with intricate drawings on it.

“Yeonhee” he calls and you groan. “I don’t want to fight.”

He sits down next to you and you sigh, “You don’t want the crown.” You state. Earlier that day the King had announced that his first son, Prince Lee Yoon would become the next King. The ministers then warned Shin what this meant. Once a new king ascends the throne, the first thing he did was eliminate any threat to his throne, and more often than not, that included blood relatives.

“No, I don’t.” he replies. “Hyung knows it too. So, don’t worry. There won’t be a fight.”

“I know Yoon Orabeoni won’t try to kill you. But, I’m still scared.”

He nods. You trusted Yoon, of course, but having grown up around the royal family as the daughter of their chief of army, you also knew the kind of manipulation that went on behind the scenes. Even the kindest of men became monsters once they were possessed by power and greed.

Your friend reassures you, “The crown is my brother’s. He can have it. He can rule the kingdom. He can be rich and powerful. I don’t want any of that.”

“What do you want, Shin?” you ask.

“I want……” he trails off. Then he removes the knife from your hands and puts it down beside him. “I want to leave. I want to love and I want to be happy.”

“Love?” you ask, scoffing. “When have any of us ever had the chance to find love?”

“I did.” He states and you whip your head to look at him.

“W-what? When?” you ask, annoyed that he had never mentioned any of this to you before. “Who?” you ask, your voice hoarse.

He lets out a small laugh. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

You hit him playfully on his arm. “Fine. Don’t tell me. Don’t come asking for my help when people find out that you fell in love with someone that you aren’t even engaged to.”

He just laughs and you roll your eyes, looking away from him. You stare into the distance wondering why you felt so annoyed. You were envious of anyone who said they had fallen in love, because you knew that with your family background, you’d probably never get a chance to feel true love in this lifetime. But, this feeling was more than just envy. You felt like you were sitting on the shore, looking at the ship that you were supposed to take sail away, leaving you behind feeling helpless and desperate.

You failed to notice the boy sitting next to you looking at you with a sad smile on his face. His eyes sparkled as though he were looking at the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen, but it could never be his.

You didn’t know why, but you couldn’t seem to forget Jungkook. You would be sitting around doing nothing and suddenly you would think about how warm he had felt that night as you slept next to each other. You would be working, your face frowning in concentration, but suddenly you would remember how good he had felt inside of you and your cheeks would heat up. You would sitting in meetings, concentrating on the speaker and out of nowhere, you would have this intense desire to see him, feel him sitting next to you.

You missed him.

It was ridiculous. You barely knew the guy and yet here you were acting like a total love stuck maniac. You looked at his contact on your phone, but didn’t message him. You had some pride left. If he had been interested, he would have never left that morning without saying a word to you.

You called Hoseok instead. “Hey, I’m almost at the festival. Have you left?”

“Don’t yell at me, y/n, but stupid Manager Park gave me this file that have to assess and make a report about it. I have to send it to HR tonight.”

“You’re still at work?” you yelled into the phone. “I can’t believe you, Hoseok!”

You stopped walking and turned around “I’m going back home.”

“No, please!” Just wait for 30 minutes. I’ll be there!” he pleaded.

“I cant.” You said, “you know I’ll have a panic attack if I get stuck in the middle of a crowded place.”

“Just wait outside, okay? I’m almost done. I’ll come over directly.” He cut the call, ready to finish his work fast.

You walked towards the entrance to the fair. The gate was an archway decorated to look like cherry blossoms, you could hear the buzzing of people walking around enjoying the spring air.

You stood and looked around. You could see a glimpse of the fairy lights inside the park and you smiled. As much as you hated Hoseok right now, he knew exactly what you liked.

He was right. It wasn’t crowded outside, so you could breathe without the anxiety of having to face the crowd. You had forgotten about a slight detail which would change the course of the night for you.

You suddenly heard the faint sounds of drums and the traditional Korean horn, Nagak. You didn’t know why you recognized the music from these instruments that you were yet to see.

Suddenly you had goosebumps and you felt a lingering sense of dread surround you. There was a staged parade today. Hoseok had mentioned it. Something to do with remembering old traditions and culture. They were going to mimic a royal parade that used to take place centuries ago.

You stood rooted in your spot as the music got louder. You felt like you were in a trance. You were snapped out of your daze when someone shoved you from behind and you stumbled. “Sorry!” they apologized and you looked around you as you regained you balance to see hundreds of people around you. They were waiting for the parade that was nearing, but suddenly you felt like they were watching you. The music was still playing in your head and it intensified your anxiety for some reason. You wanted to run away from there, but you felt like you coudn’t move. You were breathing in and out quickly, the short breaths making you feel suffocated.

Your eyes were filled with tears now but you didn’t bother to wipe them away. Your eyes wandered around again, but this time you saw something different. You were back in the first dream that you had ever had, except you has not fallen asleep this time. Grass was under your feet again and outlines of mountains behind you. You were on your knees now, hyperventilating, but no one seemed to care. You looked up to see an all too familiar scene again. You saw him lying in front of you. Shin. You wanted move forward and prevent the sword from crashing down on him, but you couldn’t get your legs to budge. You just stretched your hand, trying to reach out to him. You watched as the sword went through his body again and your hand was stained with his blood. You gasped as his blood flows, marking the grass underneath him crimson.

You looked up at him, to meet his eyes and a small whimper left your mouth. You were crying now. You knew this man. You loved this man. You recognized this man.

“Jungkook,” you whispered as you lost all sense of your surroundings. Your tears were now fogging your vision.

You suddenly feel strong arms engulf you, holding onto you and picking you up. You stood, holding onto the arm from support as they maneuvered you out of the crowd. They gently pull you down onto a bench as you hyperventilate.

“No…” you said in between breaths, “No”

“Hey, It’s okay. You’re safe now.” You heard, but you’re unable to stop crying. You tried to regulate your breathing, breathing in deeply and letting out air slowly.

You felt a comforting hand rub circles on your back, trying to help you calm down.

“I couldn’t save him.” You whispered, you voice breaking.

Right then you knew. You understood why you were plagued by these dreams all your life. They were memories. They were remnants of a life that you had lived long ago. You were finally aware of your purpose. You knew why you could remember everything. The Universe had given you another chance. This was why your soul had come back to live this life, connecting you with all the experiences that you had had along the way. You were here to not let him die again.

You said it out loud, just to make it seem more concrete and real, “I have to save him this time.”

“Save whom, love?” you looked up at the owner of the voice this time. There he was. His hair was a lighter shade of brown since the last time you had seen him. It was styled to form the shape of a comma on his forehead. He was tall, towering over your slumped figure. You finally realize what a mess you had been. You used the back of your hand to wipe your eyes and look up at him again.

“Jungkook?” you asked, cautiously. You felt like you didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t anymore.

“Hey.” He said. “Are you feeling better?”

You nodded slowly, unsure of what this situation was. “Are you really here?”

He tilted his head to look at you. He bit his lip and said, “Do…Do you want to get some coffee? I think we should talk.”

“Umm” you said, dumbly, “y-yeah. Sure.” You wanted to hug him. You wanted to kiss him and tell him you remembered him. You stopped yourself, trying your best to rationalize even in this situation.

“Can you stand up?” he asked, reaching his hand out for you. You hesitated before slightly holding onto them and using all your strength to stand up. Your legs still felt a little wobbly, but before you could stumble, his palm touched your lower back, and supporting you, helping you walk.

You went to the nearest café and sat down. Jungkook offered to go buy something warm and you waited at the table.

You felt numb. You didn’t feel like yourself anymore. You felt confused and wanted to scream out loud in frustration.

I’m Yeonhee. No. I used to be, you thought.

He was Shin. We were in love.

We died.

You felt like a madwoman who had let a delusion get the best of her. But you were aware of the fact that this was not a delusion. It used to be a reality. Maybe, it still was.

Jungkook returned, interrupting your thoughts. Seeing him made your heart ache. But, you tried not to let it show. The last thing you needed was to scare him away.

“I hope you like hazelnut latte.” He said, placing the drink in front of you.

You nodded and took a sip, letting the hot liquid calm you down.

He sipped his coffee. “Do you feel better?”

You nodded again and give him a weak smile. “Thank you for helping me out today.”

“What happened back there?” he asked, leaning forward.

“I just….don’t like crowds.” You said.

He didn’t pry any further. You pulled out your phone in the silence that followed and texted Hoseok that you had left.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook said and you looked at him. “For what?” you asked. You felt really peculiar speaking to him. Just a few minutes ago, you had watched him die. You had to keep reminding yourself that this was a different circumstance, for all you knew, he was a completely different person now. He was not your Shin.

“I shouldn’t have left without saying anything that day. I just….freaked out.” He said, looking guilty.

“Freaked out?” you asked. You wanted to ask him if he remembered what he had said that night and why he had said it. He had called you Yeonhee even before you knew that it had been you.

“I……..” he paused, and then sighed. He ran his hand through his hair and said, “I have this problem. Ever since I was little, I get this dream. It’s actually more of a nightmare. There’s death and blood and gore. I won’t bother you with the details. Its not pretty.”

Your blood ran cold. You wanted to say so much but you didn’t know where to begin.

He continued, “It’s always been that one dream. I see this girl getting killed right in front of me. Then, I feel this pain shooting through my back. It felt so real each time.”

He stopped and looked at you, hoping to hear a response. You cleared your throat, then said, “Was her name Yeonhee?”

His eyes widened. “Y-yes.” He replied softly. “How did you know?”

You take in a deep breath, ready to let him know, “You called me by that name that night.”

“Oh.” He said, simply. He then stared at his cup of coffee, deep in thought. “I’ve been having other dreams since that night. They have the same people, but they’re happier in these.”

You really wished that he knew what you did. How were you supposed to explain this to him? How do you tell someone that you used to be in love before you died and were reincarnated, without sounding crazy?

How do you tell someone that they’re your soulmate?

You decided to try. If you never tell him, you knew you would regret it. Hiding this from him felt like you would be lying to him. If he called you a lunatic and left, you would deal with it later.

“Jungkook.” You started, “I think you should know something.”

“Yes?” he asked, looking into your eyes, trying to find an indication of what you might want to say.

“I know what you mean.” You said and he raised his eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I know what you mean about the dream. I have had the same dream since I was a child too. I always woke up crying from it.”

His mouth was shut tightly and you could see his jaw clenching.

“I know I sound crazy right now.” You continued, “But ever since the night we spent together, I have different dreams. They aren’t as painful to watch as this one. But, they are with the same people. I’ve seen their story. I’ve pieced it all together.”

“Y/n….” he said, monotonously.

“And today,” you said, without giving him a chance to continue and without letting yourself back out of this confession last minute, “I felt like I was there. In that nightmare. I saw it happen in front of me. To me. It was surreal. But, I also realized that these were real people. Yeonhee, Shin, Yoon.”

“Real people?”

“Yes. People who used to be alive. Back then. A thousand years ago.”

“Hold on,” he said, gesturing you to stop with his palm. “Why do you think that?”

“Because we were them. I felt it back there. I remember it now.” You felt better after saying it out loud to him. You felt like a burden had been lifted from you. “Remember how you felt like you knew me when we first met?”

He didn’t reply, he just stared at you without any expression on his face.

“Maybe we did know each other. Just…not in this lifetime.”

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He stood up abruptly. He said, “This was a mistake.” He said and you panicked. “I think I should go.” Tears were threatening to spill from your eyes suddenly as your chest tightened in pain.

“Please don’t go,” you managed to croak out.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, “But this is crazy.” He began walking out after sparing you one last glance. You sat there watching his back as he went further and further away from you.  You sat there fiddling with your hands and staring at them. A few hours ago, you were a practical woman who had a stable life, but now you were the girl who believed in reincarnation and soulmates, who felt this intense attachment to a man she had met just twice and believed that he was hers in another lifetime.

You stood up, wiping your tears for the umpteenth time that night. You knew you couldn’t blame him. You did sound insane. But, hell if you were going to let him walk away like this. You ran after him.

You saw him standing at the intersection waiting for the signal to walk to turn green. You ran as fast as you could, but he began crossing the street. Suddenly, you panicked. You knew this feeling. You had felt it multiple times before. You had felt it that day centuries ago when you both had died.

You were almost there when you heard the horn from the car heading towards him.

It was exactly like a scene from every drama that you had ever watched. Jungkook stood, shocked, frozen in place, his eyes wide and staring at the oncoming mammoth of a vehicle. Everything seemed to have slowed down.

You yelled his name and he looked towards you, you were close enough now to see tears pooling in his eyes and flowing down slowly. You feel an instinct take over you and you hold onto his back and push him. You saw him fall down away from you before the light from the car blinded you and you felt something hard hit your torso and a sharp pain shots through your body as you fell down. You hear Jungkook yell your name, but it sounds very distant.

You see your mom looking at you. She had the most beautiful smile and then you see yourself, the ten year old you run up to her and hug her. You dad joins you both and you hold his hand pulling him way, running towards the waterfall.

You see your first day of high school when you met your best friend. Then you see both of you giggling, sitting down on your bed back home. The scene changes and you’re walking down the stage, taking your degree.

You see your college room, your roommate and you decorating it. You see your first boyfriend, you see your tears after he broke your heart. You walk down the stage again, this time to receive a college degree.

It was like every important event in your life was being played back to you at this moment. Quickly and painlessly.

Next you see Hoseok, his bright smile making you smile and you hold his hand silently thank him for being in your life. Then, you see Jungkook. He’s kissing you on the bed in your apartment. It reminds you of the night that you had met him.

Then you see him again, but from a different time.  He kisses you and whispers, “I love you.”

You smile.

You had done it.

You had saved him this time around.

 He groans as he pushes inside you. You buck up your lips, taking in more of him. He thrusts slowly, so slow that you whine, “Shin” you moan, “Faster”. He chuckles bringing his lips to yours and kissing you. “So impatient all the time” he says. He increases his pace and looks at you as you gasp as he suddenly hits your sweet spot. “You’re so beautiful,” he says and you blush.

He starts peppering kisses on your cheek, over your jaw and moves down to your neck. You could feel your stomach tightening and with a few more thrusts, you’re squirming underneath him, your orgasm hitting you.

Then you stiffens and you feel him release warm liquid inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both ride out your highs. Once you’ve both calmed down, he moves away from you and lies down next to you. You turn to the side to face him. He moves your hair away from your face.

“I love you” he says.

“I love you too” you reply.

You move closer and bury your face in his bare chest and he kisses the top of your head, hugging you.

“Promise me something,” you say.

“Anything.” He replies and you smile. You look at his face and say, “Promise me that no matter what happens you’ll always remember me.”

He laughs at your unusual request. “I could never forget you.”

“Shin~!” you whine.

“Okay. I promise. Even if I forget, I’ll try my hardest to remember you again.”

You smile in satisfaction and kiss him.

 Masterlist

[jjblue1]

As it seems the picture and the translations for Shoten 6 Tokyo Babylon story has disappeared from the net I’m going to share them.

The translation was done by iamsocool12345 and it’s shared here merely because it’s not available anymore anywhere as far as I know. Should iamsocool12345 ask for me to remove it, I’ll do it.

Now... since I know many people wonder about the last pic in which Seishiro put a ring on Subaru’s finger... well it actually isn’t a single spread picture.

That’s how the scene looked like on the original magazine.

As you can see you would have to turn the page to see Seishiro.

Now... I’ve placed all the other picture in order except those last two because it’s nice to see them as a spread page... but remember, in the original they wouldn’t have looked like one.

Tokyo Babylon - Shoten Translation *********************** BABYLON Ancient capital of Mesopotamia. In the 18th century B.C., Hamurabi, ruler of the kingdom of Babylonia, claimed it as such, and the city prospered, as a thriving political and cultural center. In time, however, the people of the city began to grow proud of this prosperity, and challenged God's authority, building a tower called "Babel" that would reach up to Heaven. Unable to forgive this indiscretion, God struck the tower down, and with it, destroyed the common language of the people. People are now doomed to repeat themselves constantly, a mark of their foolish act against God. Woe to Babylon, City that suffered the wrath of God. "He seemed pretty cool, didn't he?" Hokuto muses, sipping happily on Subaru's iced cafe au lait. Subaru isn't quite sure what Hokuto's talking about. He tilts his head. "Who?" "Sei-chan." "Oh. Seishirou-san." Hokuto's already started calling Seishirou "Sei-chan". It took her all of three hours after first meeting him, but then, she's a little more...friendly than most. [1] This is Heinesen [2], in Shinjuku's Kabukichou. [3] Not exactly the first neighborhood you'd recommend to anyone as a nice place to live, but it's still got its fair share of quality apartment complexes. All of them with very good security systems, of course. And our hero is Subaru Sumeragi. He's 163 cm tall [4], 16 years old, and he's just been accepted into his first year at CLAMP Campus Academy's high school. He has one sibling: a twin sister, Hokuto Sumeragi, who's currently lounging on the sofa across from him, with a smile. Like some of you might already know (after reading Shoten 5), Subaru-kun goes to school and "works" at the same time. He's an onmyouji. Lately, his profession has gotten lots of attention from newspapers and magazines, and a lot of people have heard about what onmyouji do. They're well-versed in astronomy and study the calendar very closely, in order to perform fortune tellings, and other special spiritual rituals. In fact, people like Subaru-kun have started to show up everywhere in popular media, lately. [5] It seems like everybody has read "Kujaku-ou" [6] or seen "Teito Monogatari" [7], and they've noticed these characters who have incredible power. Abilities beyond what any normal human being can do. Sumeragi Subaru-kun is one of these onmyouji. As a matter of fact, they're growing increasingly rare in our day. So much so that, if he let it, publicity would completely overwhelm his life. Sumeragi Subaru-kun is an onmyouji. He's adorable, still just a high school student, and he might not seem like the sharpest kid his age, but when it comes to onmyoujutsu [8], he's at the very top of his game.The 13th head of the Sumeragi family. It's a position that claims quite a bit of respect. But with that respect also comes its fair share of difficulties. Subaru-kun keeps a smile on his face, but in a profession this uncommon, it's easy to feel spread thin. His line of work can be tough. And it is work for him; he gets paid for what he does, and because of that, he feels like he can't take on any case half-way. He has to go all out, every single time. Subaru-kun has come up against some pretty unpleasant situations, but he does his best to try not to let sort of thing affect him too much. Which is easier said than done. Sometimes, he can get a little depressed, but we'll leave that for another time. For now, something else entirely is bothering Subaru-kun. Something that has nothing to do with his job...or so he's trying to tell himself. Still, he can't help but wonder if... "Hey, Subaru!" If... "Earth to Subaru! Hello~ooo? Subaru!!!" Subaru looks up suddenly, to find Hokuto hovering over him. "You were thinking again, weren't you? You're always doing that! Getting lost in thought, and shutting yourself off from the rest of the world... And I'd bet money you were just depressing yourself over it, too, whatever it was. Would you cut it out already?" She looks down at him, and... Er, well. Subaru had thought she'd been hovering over him, but it turns out she's just sitting on his lap. "Here. Phone's for you." He hadn't even heard it ring. Subaru thinks she might be right; he really doesn't pay enough attention to what's going on around him, and it could get him into trouble, one of these days. What if someone came into his room uninvited, and he didn't notice? Although he can't really imagine that anyone would want to. A thief, maybe? But it's not like that sort of thing happened very often, anyway, and...- "The phone, I said! Geeze! You're totally impossible!" Oops! There he goes again. He's really got to break that habit... "Who is it?" "Loverboy." "L-Loverboy-san? Who's that?" "You have got to be kidding me." Subaru takes the receiver from Hokuto. "H-Hello? This is Sumeragi." "Hello, there! This is Sakurazuka." "Oh! Seishirou-san!" Hokuto jumps up, spins around, and starts hopping in place excitedly. Energetic would be an understatement. Have you ever in your life seen twins with two more opposite personalities? "I'm sorry that I kept you so long today." "N-No, it's fine! I had fun." "Well, there's something I forgot to give you when I dropped you off at your apartment." "Huh?" "Do you think you might be able to stop by the hospital on your way home from school tomorrow?" "S-Sure..." "Great. Be careful tonight. I know it's been really hot out, lately, but make sure you don't catch a cold from running the air conditioner, okay? [9] Have a good night." "O-Oh, um! Okay! G-good night!" Subaru sits blinking at the cordless in his hand. "So!? What did he say!? Tell me everything!" "Um... He said there's...um, something he wants to give me..." "Presents! Starting in with the fancy gifts already, in order to win over your affections! Ooh, he's good, he's very good!" "I-I really don't think he's trying to 'win over my affections'..." "But what on earth could Sei-chan be thinking!? He knows you're head of the Sumeragi family, and he's the Sakurazukamori!" The Sakurazukamori is part of the Sakurazuka family, another famous omyouji clan, like the Sumeragi. Except...the history of the Sakurazuka family is a little less prestigious, and the Sakurazukamori doesn't exactly make his services known to the public. Supposedly, though, the Sakurazukamori considers himself above ordinary moral restrictions, and buries all of his victims in a grave called the "sakurazuka". [10] Basically, the Sakurazukamori acts as the Sakurazuka family assassin. "We don't know that for sure! The Sakurazuka family is so mysterious that even other onmyouji can't tell the truth from legend, anymore. These days, anyone could be the Sakurazukamori. Just because Seishirou-san's last name is 'Sakurazuka' doesn't necessarily mean anything..." "Well, we know that the current Sakurazukamori is a man! Obaa-chama told us so!" [11] "But that doesn't mean that it's Seishirou-san!" "He didn't exactly deny it, did he?" "He didn't say yes, either!" "Oh, come on, Subaru! What's wrong with you? It'd be so much more interesting if you were head of the Sumeragi and he was the Sakurazukamori!" "...You're crazy..." "You dummy! Don't you realize what you're doing here? Every single day, I turn on the TV, and what do I see? Perestroika, Kuwait, Iran, environmental pollution, water shortages... [12] But you know what? That's all fine, so long as girls like me can still have our fun! But will boys like you let us!? No! Instead, you have to go and ruin everything!" "...If all girls think like you, then I'm a little scared..." "Sorry to make you come out here like this." Seishirou bows low to Subaru from just inside the hospital. Subaru bows back. "But I had some business to attend to in Ikebukuro [13] today, so I stopped in at this little restaurant called Melos [14], and brought us back some tiramisu. Huh? Where's Hokuto-chan?" "Oh, um, she said that Marui [15] was having a bargain sale today..." "Aha. I understand. That definitely takes priority," Seishirou nods vigorously. "Well, let's not stand out here all day. Come on in and tell me how school was. Are you getting used to it?" Subaru follows Seishirou into his examination room, where Seishirou sets out the tiramisu and some tea. "Yeah. There are so many new faces, but... But it's a lot of fun." "Mmm. CLAMP Campus is a good school. Even if they do get a little carried away, from time to time." "Where did you go to school, Seishirou-san?" "Would you like some more tea?" Seishirou changes the topic so smoothly that Subaru figures he must not have heard the question. "S-Sure. Thank you." "Actually, I got this tea from Krishna-san. He went home to India for a wedding, and brought some back to Japan with him. He must have felt very nostalgic, visiting home for the first time in so long." [16] "Have you lived in Tokyo your whole life, Seishirou-san? Or are you..." "What wonderful weather we're having today, hmm?" And then it dawns on Subaru: apparently, Seishirou doesn't want to answer his questions. "So what did you learn about today at school?" "Um. Well, actually, the evil Imonoyama Shopping District Secret Association showed up right in the middle of class, and then the CLAMP Campus Defenders Duklyon came in to chase after them, and things got a little crazy, and that was sort of the end of the lesson, right there." [17] "Ahahahaha! As interesting as ever, then!" Seishirou laughs, long and hard, and Subaru starts to wonder if he really might be the Sakurazukamori, like Hokuto had said. After all, he seems to be avoiding Subaru's questions about his past... For the briefest instant, Subaru feels his heart ache. "What's the matter? Is the cake no good?" "Huh!? Oh! No! I-It's delicious!" "You looked so sad for a second there. Are you sure you're alright?" "I'm fine! It's nothing, really! Honest!" "Hmm. Alright, then. Although I have to admit, it's a little suspicious of you to deny it so strongly." Seishirou laughs again, and reaches to refill Subaru's cup. "Oh, that reminds me! How about we get to what I called you over for, hm?" "O-Okay!" Still smiling, Seishirou reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, covered in red velvet. "What's that?" "Open it up and see for yourself." Subaru flips the box open...and freezes. "Th-This is--!" "A ring. The size should be fine, hopefully. I've got a knack for things like that." "Wh-Who are you going to give it to?" "Ahahahaha! Why, you, of course, Subaru-kun!" "W-Wha-! You-! H-! Hold on!" "Don't worry, I don't mean to tie you down with this. It's just that it seems like so many people have been getting married lately, doesn't it? Even at Iserlohn and Heinesen [18], I feel like I know at least 10 couples who've decided to tie the knot." "Y-Yeah, I've been invited to a few of them too, but..." "Veterinary hospitals might be hospitals, but they're still businesses! I started worrying that, one day, I might not be able to afford a ring anymore. So I went out and bought this for you yesterday, while I know for certain that I've got the money to." "But I can't accept this! It's so expensive!" "You won't take it because it's expensive, or because you don't want to?" "What?" "Because it really wasn't expensive it all, Subaru-kun. You believe me, don't you?" "Well, I do...-" "Then you'll take it!" "Seishirou-san!" "I promise I'll do everything I can to give you the wedding you deserve. And I'll be a devoted husband, day in and day out! You'll look after me, won't you, Subaru-kun?" Looks like Subaru-kun doesn't have much of a say this time around! Don't worry, Subaru-kun! We're sure he'll make an honest bride out of you, soon! *laugh* *********************** [1] A cursory note I'd rather ignore, but obviously, "chan" indicates a certain closeness that most people don't really feel they've achieved in 3 hours. [2] Heinesen is a tricky one. It's a German name, but I found out that it was also used as a location in an '80s manga called Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu (in English, Legend of the Galactic Heroes), which is where CLAMP probably lifted it from. I think they mean it here to serve as the fictional building/complex that Subaru and Hokuto are living in. [3] Like the text tells us, Kabukichou in Tokyo's Shinjuku district is...lively. It's well-known for being active at night, with its fair share of restaurants, love hotels, bars, etc. It wouldn't exactly be my first choice if I were looking for a place to live, either, but in with some of the seedier stuff are some really classy clubs and restaurants. [4] 5'4", for those of you as metrically challenged as I am. [5] Actually, Japan really did see a sort of pop-occult boom in the '90s. 1999 was coming up, for one, and young people especially started to really get into stuff like that. Think of the fortune telling and matchmaking and apocalypse fear that we see in Tokyo Babylon. [6] Late '80s/early '90s manga (translates to Peacock King), with gods and demons and magic spells, and exorcisms, and all that sort of thing. [7] '70s novel turned into late '80s/early '90s live action film and anime (translated as Doomed Megalopolis in the US). The main villain is an onmyouji. [8] Onmyoujutsu is onmyouji magic, or "yin-yang magic". [9] Okay. Korea is notorious for this sort of thing, and I met a girl from Brazil who believed it. I don't think I've come across any Americans who really believe this, but I could be wrong. Anyway, the idea is that an AC or fan, especially if left on overnight in a room that you're sleeping in, can make you sick. I... I mean, maybe if you set your AC to record low temperatures? I only make a note here since reading that line in English out of nowhere like that would probably make me think Seishirou's even stranger than I'd imagined. [10] Literally, "cherry blossom grave". [11] "Grandma", but I don't feel comfortable translating it as such, since the "chama" is distinctive. Think "chan" + "sama". Subaru simply uses "obaa-chan". And everyone in English has their own cute grandmother diminutive, anyway. [12] As in depressing early '90s news. Perestroika refers to Gorbachev's doomed economic reforms, then we've got the Gulf War and Operation Desert Storm, the hole in the ozone layer, etc. [13] Big, busy commercial district in Tokyo. Sunshine 60's there. Lots of department stores and activity. [14] "Melos" might be the name of a real restaurant somewhere, but probably not in this case. If anything, I'd say CLAMP's throwing a quick nod to Hashire Melos! (Run, Melos!), an '80s anime movie, remade in the early '90s. [15] Marui's a big, famous department store, well-known for women's fashion. The logo for the store reads "OIOI", but it's pronounced "marui"..."maru" for "zero" and "i" for "one". [16] Errr. I'm pretty sure Seishirou's referring to Krishna, the CLAMP character who appears in some of their earlier stuff. He works at CLAMP Campus as a professor, I believe, and looks pretty much like Ashura-ou? I think? If you've got any more info, let me know! In any case, I doubt Seishirou's talking about Krishna, the god. [17] See CLAMP Campus Defenders Duklyon, if you haven't checked it out already. That's more or less the plot of every single chapter. [18] Iserlohn seems to be another German name/location in Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu. See note #2.