did you hear about that mother ; broke her daughter's legs in two — & said :
𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠 , 𝙨𝙤 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪.
gviltys : writing blog for KATARINA YEONG , an original character , with heavy roots in the organized crime realm . a study of REPENTANCE & GUILT trauma and how our bodies store it AND HOW WE HEAL . 🇭🇪🇾 . 🇭🇪🇾 . 🇩🇴 🇾🇴🇺 🇧🇪🇱🇮🇪🇻🇪 🇮🇳 🇩🇮🇻🇮🇳🇪 🇵🇺🇳🇮🇸🇭🇲🇪🇳🇹 ? 🇮 🇭🇪🇦🇷🇩 🇮🇹 🇼🇦🇸 🇫🇷🇴🇲 🇫🇦🇹🇭🇪🇷 ██████ .
this blog is highly selective & closed & sporadic activity . minors dni . do not reblog original content from me or use my content without EXPRESS permission from me . original character was originally established in 2023 on a multimuse . as beloved by EEPIE , 25 . they / them .
current blogroll: gviltys botfrag holysln aikowo
this blog & writing contains mentions of : CULTS , RELIGIOUS TRAUMA , ASSAULT , SEX WORK & OTHER DARK THEMES . proceed with caution . you have been warned .
keeping up with it is really stressful esp multiple blogs. i still do LOVE writing on discord, so please please please, if you want to write with me, i will literally make us our own little server to write in for our muses.
with work and school, writing on tumblr isn't incredibly sustainable for me and leaves me feeling incredibly anxious, but i still do want to write. so please, if you'd like:
my discord is sen_eepie . let me know who you are, and we can get stuff rolling :3
[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.
[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.
[ i ]
The air is suffocating. She’s used to it --- or should be, given her profession --- but even now she seems to be swallowed whole by the group of people in the office. It’s a hard concept to grasp, this idea of fondness, of closeness, somehow sewn together by the profession they’ve all chosen, and yet, and yet, there seems to be some wall between her and the others. Even now. Especially now. Swallows the carbonated water awkwardly, letting eyes fall as they float to lip of plastic cup.
Katarina shifts uncomfortably against the wall. Never been one to be self conscious, but is all too aware how her pastel hair sticks out against the brunettes and blonds in the office; even if Garcia tells her how much she loves it, how she has to do her hair one day too, the uncomfortable sinking feeling doesn’t leave. Manifests itself in the bottom of her throat, and presses herself into the wall; like she’ll disappear into it if she tries hard enough.
“It’s not mandatory, you know,” he’ll mention offhandedly. You’re not sure you agree, but as if reading your features, he continues, “it’s just an cross-department office party. It’ll --- It’s supposed to be fun,” Spencer corrects himself, and you ignore the urge to snort in his face, taking drag from cigarette. You try not to notice how his face turns away slightly, frigid winter air suddenly seeming a lot colder than it had been. Drop it onto the concrete and snuff it out underneath boot, suddenly all too aware of the space between you two.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Well, we could go together,” he says, as casually as if he were talking about the weather, and you feel all the air leave your lungs. He offers you a smile, and your head all of a sudden feels fuzzy: does he know? Does he know? He must. “No fun to go to those things without an escape plan, right?”
She’s snapped out of her own endless rumination by the sight of the other with blonde --- JJ? --- as he turns back to Katarina and offers her a wave, that feels a whole awful lot like a see ya later. The disgusting feeling she recognizes all too well swells up once more, but agent will swallow it back down, ignoring urge, the tug at her chest that implores her to go after, chase after, offer a Wait up! …
But it dies as soon as the glass doors shut behind the pair, and she’s stuck nursing her tonic water once more.
[ ii ]
The embarrassment is there again. Know it all too familiarly as she slides down the cold pole, the heat of the club feeling all too cold as she recognizes the figures that walk into establishment. It’s not like it had been a secret --- most of the team having known of what her assignments entail for longer than she’s been alive, but still, but still. Held it in the air between them like a closely kept secret, unable to speak it into existence, to make it a reality of what she imitates. What she was. What she is.
Shame creeps up her cheeks: something she’s usually so good at swallowing down, but it’s because it’s him. It’s always him. Act is almost over, and does her best to make sure he doesn’t see, doesn’t recognize her under dim lighting and neon stagelights, but Katarina sticks out like a sore thumb. Meant to catch attention, meant to be seen so they don’t see anything else. It’s what she was made for. Perfect little puppet made for whoever had the highest bid.
The final beat ends of performance, and it’s then agent will catch eyes of the other, head hanging upside down, recognisance lingering on his countenance like that of --- she’s not sure. Looks like trail mix of emotions, as if he himself is unsure of what he feels, but the dawning chasm of feeling crawls up on her and almost swallows her whole. He knows it’s her. He knows it’s her, and he’s disgusted.
The neon flood lights shut off leaving club in darkness, only for softer pinks and red floods to come on and dance on walls. Watch as Katarina scrambles off the stage unceremoniously, but never a fall in sigh with high heels. Sweat that runs down her body becomes cold as she quickens her pace after the other. She wants to explain --- she can, she needs to.
But his back is turned to her as she pushes through the crowd, and seems unable to hear her silent pleas for him to stay a moment longer, with only a spare glance thrown her way before following the rest of the crew out. His expression unreadable, she swallows as the door shuts.
“I think you’re aesthetically pleasing,” he says off handedly. The idealist is shot down as soon as she pipes up, reality of becoming more comfortable with the other settling in and smothering it. This is what friends do, “It’s strange, how you always deny it, no matter who says it, no matter who you are. I think it’s more of an objective truth than it is anything else.”
You snort. “You wouldn’t think that if you saw me at the club.”
He offers you one of those looks that you can’t decipher; too blank to dig your claws into deeper like you would one of your marks. You want to see something, know something, just an inkling of how he feels.
Spencer takes a sip of mint tea, before the office chair swivels back to face his monitor. “Agree to disagree.”
[ iii ]
The back of the ambulance isn’t something she’s unfamiliar with --- although maybe the bruising around wrists and ankles is something that begs to differ. Blanket is wrapped around shoulders, but she still shivers when cold rain splashes on exposed shins, pulling the blanket closer to her. Aching is something of a comfort, even now, reminding her that she’s alive, that she’s still here --- even if she doesn’t want to be. Especially if she doesn’t want to be. The blood behind her right eye seems to swell and pulsate, spine still straight, muscles still tensed; bracing herself for the next strike that’ll never come.
“Katarina?” She’d know that voice anywhere, pick it out in a crowd; she’s no less devout worshipping at his voice, tension leaving at the familiar tones and dulled saccharine. He’s dressed in vest she’s familiar with --- often time what she’s wearing when not dressed in the blanket of comfort or that of case ended --- even now; recognizing his figure in the dark nighttime, familiar shadows on features and contours of his body nothing more than another puzzle piece memorized of him.
Body knows more than her brain does, it knows, it knows where home is; comfort in the form of man, something she’d never think to admit aloud, or to herself. Body aches, and aches, but still, with newfound energy does she push herself off edge of the ambulance, a running stumble over to the other, eyes unfamiliarly stinging with tears with rain pounding in her features; all but soaking her to the bone. Try as they may, the paramedics don’t hold a candle to her, even now, limped sprint. “Spencer!”
“Kat!” It’s a mixture of elation and relief in his voice as he catches when she throws herself at him; smaller body shivering in the little clothes she wears --- t-shirt and underwear; compliments of mark of this case --- larger hands cradling her cheeks, almost squishing them as he looks at her. Mind not as her eyes water looking up at the other, eyebrows knitting together in something akin to relief and fear, chest heaving up and down as his own eyes linger on her countenance; inspecting every bruise and cut. “You’re okay?”
A silent nod; tears mixing with rainwater as his own fatigued gaze seems to falter at seeing them, brushing hair out of her face with hand before pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re okay.” I’ve got you. It’s unspoken, only offered as the squeeze he gives her, desperate, as if she might disappear between his fingers, no less sand through hourglass. “You’re okay.”
The rain is the only thing that continues on for a moment, hitting asphalt and grassy yard rhythmically, the only other sound to be a clap of thunder that she stiffens oh so subtly at. It’s the voice of another that cuts through it all. “Reid.” A swallow. As if painful, watch as SSA agent pulls away from Intelligence, untangling from each other.
Opens her mouth to say something, do something, a plead. Don’t go. Don’t leave. I need you here. I’m scared. But it doesn’t do anything. “It’s okay,” she whispers hoarsely, tone dipped in soured saccharine, cracking and shattering on the damp asphalt. “You go now.”
Spencer offers her a look, and swallows once more, nodding, and turning his back to follow the rest of the team.
[ iv ]
Oh how she hates being so easily subdued by something so minor, it’s almost embarrassing. Heavy, fatigued eyes and shivers from sweat run down her neck, clinging to the comforter like it’s the only thing protecting her; ignoring the feeling of wet fabric against her skin, because she’s just so cold.
Even the sound of her apartment door creeping open isn’t enough to stir her, even the sound of his voice, it’s not enough. Just let her sleep. Vision is blurred, and every move, however minute, makes her ache even moreso. “I wasn’t aware your place was so nice, Kat,” as if announcing his presence. How kind.
They pay you a lot of tax payer money to pretend to be human.
Agent rolls over in her bed, letting back face the door of her room. He can’t see her like this. He can’t. What an embarrassment she’s turned into be. “Garcia is parked illegally, so I can’t stay super long. She didn’t know that those signs when looking at your place were for no parking,” in reference to how Garcia had, in her words, done a little snooping into her place of residence. There’s silence. She can practically hear him staring at her back, blanket having raised to expose skin: jagged scars and lines littering soft skin as if drawn on it deliberately.
Please don’t look at me. Please don’t leave me.
“Katarina, I ---” He swallows. Sound of cellophane bag being set on the bed, the heavy, familiar weight of him sitting on the edge. “I’m worr-”
Piercing ring of phone to come through, and she’d recognize it anywhere, if only because forced to, her own phone having that same ring tone. She shifts, and a shiver runs down her spine, another sniffle and cough. She feels the weight on her bed shift, tinny voice ringing out through phone speaker.
He’s leaving. Don’t go.
“I’ll be back later, Katarina. Take the meds.” He won’t be. She can feel it. “And the gatorade. You need the electrolytes. You’re dehydrated.”
Don’t go.
A voice rings through tinny speaker again. “Garcia, you have your hazards on. You’re not going to get a ticket…” Feels the weight on the edge of bed finally release, and footsteps shuffle away. A moment. A beat. The feeling of eyes on her back, but she doesn’t move, frozen in he brown sweat and illness. “What did you say? No, I wasn’t staring---”
His voice trails off as he exits the room, and body yearns to do nothing more than follow after; but body aches and aches, shivers run down agent’s spine, and she’s asleep before she can even realize it.
[ v ]
Light litters her living room, if only provided by that of the downtown city; living room otherwise dark, shadows being cast ‘pon the two, the only other source of light being that of the comedy movie that has long since left their minds.
“I should go.” His words are soft, aching, just as his touch is, as if afraid she might break underneath his touch, but makes no move to move her as she sidles up to him, all but placing herself in his lap. Her own slender fingers touch his features, no less ghost of a touch on his cheek, his jaw. Eyes linger on his countenance like making map of his features in her brain, something close to adoration lingering in brown eyes. “Katarina, I--”
“Do you want me to stop?” Voice low, sultry: but know its not any kind of coyness. Know that it lingers deep within her, almost whiney, wanting, no, needing the other. “Please don’t go. Please.” Shifts closer to him, hands cradling his cheeks, breath close on his. It would be so easy, so so easy to blame it on booze: had her breath not reeked of peach tea and bubble gum. She’s never been more sober, more needy in her life. Shifts weight on her lap so close they’re practically connected, pressing self into him.
Agent’s eyes flicker over him, eyebrows knitting together weakly, gentle smile, almost pitying, as if not expecting him to agree. “Please don’t go.”
Please. I need you. Don’t leave. Stay. Stay. Stay.
inspired by those “five times our muses do something” memes. there used to be one years ago like this one and i can’t seem to ever find it again so i just made my own.
receiver = muse receiving the meme / sender = muse sending the meme
general trigger warnings for: nsfw, angst, violence, death,
[ FIVE KISSES ] send for five times our muses almost kissed and the one time they do.
[ FIVE TOUCHES ] send for five times our muses almost touch and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GLANCES ] send for five times the receiver watched the sender and the one time the receiver does something about it.
[ FIVE DEATHS ] send for five times our muses almost died together and the one time the sender does.
[ FIVE CUDDLES ] send for five times our muses nearly cuddle and the one time they finally do.
[ FIVE CALLS ] send for five times the receiver nearly calls the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE SCARS ] send for the five times the sender almost asks the receiver about their scars the the one time they do.
[ FIVE SMILES ] send for five times one muse makes the other smile and the one time they share a smile.
[ FIVE FIRSTS ] send for five times our muses almost had their first time together and the one time it happens.
[ FIVE CONFESSIONS ] send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.
[ FIVE VISTS ] send for the five times our muses try to plan a trip and the one time they succeed.
[ FIVE TEXTS ] send for five unsent texts from the receiver and one sent text.
[ FIVE NUDES ] send for five times the receiver almost sent a nude and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GIFTS ] send for five times the receiver tried to give a gift to the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.
[ FIVE BRUSHES ] send for the for the five times our muses almost hold hands and the one time they do.
[ FIVE FIGHTS ] send for the five times our muses almost get into a fight and the one time they do.
inspired by those “five times our muses do something” memes. there used to be one years ago like this one and i can’t seem to ever find it again so i just made my own.
receiver = muse receiving the meme / sender = muse sending the meme
general trigger warnings for: nsfw, angst, violence, death,
[ FIVE KISSES ] send for five times our muses almost kissed and the one time they do.
[ FIVE TOUCHES ] send for five times our muses almost touch and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GLANCES ] send for five times the receiver watched the sender and the one time the receiver does something about it.
[ FIVE DEATHS ] send for five times our muses almost died together and the one time the sender does.
[ FIVE CUDDLES ] send for five times our muses nearly cuddle and the one time they finally do.
[ FIVE CALLS ] send for five times the receiver nearly calls the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE SCARS ] send for the five times the sender almost asks the receiver about their scars the the one time they do.
[ FIVE SMILES ] send for five times one muse makes the other smile and the one time they share a smile.
[ FIVE FIRSTS ] send for five times our muses almost had their first time together and the one time it happens.
[ FIVE CONFESSIONS ] send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.
[ FIVE VISTS ] send for the five times our muses try to plan a trip and the one time they succeed.
[ FIVE TEXTS ] send for five unsent texts from the receiver and one sent text.
[ FIVE NUDES ] send for five times the receiver almost sent a nude and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GIFTS ] send for five times the receiver tried to give a gift to the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.
[ FIVE BRUSHES ] send for the for the five times our muses almost hold hands and the one time they do.
[ FIVE FIGHTS ] send for the five times our muses almost get into a fight and the one time they do.
inspired by those “five times our muses do something” memes. there used to be one years ago like this one and i can’t seem to ever find it again so i just made my own.
receiver = muse receiving the meme / sender = muse sending the meme
general trigger warnings for: nsfw, angst, violence, death,
[ FIVE KISSES ] send for five times our muses almost kissed and the one time they do.
[ FIVE TOUCHES ] send for five times our muses almost touch and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GLANCES ] send for five times the receiver watched the sender and the one time the receiver does something about it.
[ FIVE DEATHS ] send for five times our muses almost died together and the one time the sender does.
[ FIVE CUDDLES ] send for five times our muses nearly cuddle and the one time they finally do.
[ FIVE CALLS ] send for five times the receiver nearly calls the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE SCARS ] send for the five times the sender almost asks the receiver about their scars the the one time they do.
[ FIVE SMILES ] send for five times one muse makes the other smile and the one time they share a smile.
[ FIVE FIRSTS ] send for five times our muses almost had their first time together and the one time it happens.
[ FIVE CONFESSIONS ] send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.
[ FIVE VISTS ] send for the five times our muses try to plan a trip and the one time they succeed.
[ FIVE TEXTS ] send for five unsent texts from the receiver and one sent text.
[ FIVE NUDES ] send for five times the receiver almost sent a nude and the one time they do.
[ FIVE GIFTS ] send for five times the receiver tried to give a gift to the sender and the one time they do.
[ FIVE PLEAS ] send for five times the receiver wanted to ask the sender to stay and the one time they do.
[ FIVE BRUSHES ] send for the for the five times our muses almost hold hands and the one time they do.
[ FIVE FIGHTS ] send for the five times our muses almost get into a fight and the one time they do.
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ IT'S DIFFERENT . different . something chokes her quite a bit more than she'd like , paranoia inching and CREEPING down her spine , thinly covered body with velvet dress doing nothing to amend the situation , instead seeming to mock her goosebumps . ( it shouldn't be . different , that is . he's no different than the OTHER ; dipped in golden sin and BLOOD , thinking and ACTING as if he untouchable . that's what they're all LIKE , anyways . you'd know it ANYWHERE . and yet , and yet ... he seems so uniquely normal and touched by AWKWARDNESS . almost human . almost . something OTHER . ) katarina doesn't even RECOGNIZE her own movements , body moving before brain can catch up , sidling up to OTHER ; taking extra care to make sure their LEGS do not touch .
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ INSTEAD , lets eyes wander to the scene of dancers in front of them ; find agent dancer herself leaning back against the PLEATHER booth , lackidasically letting cold waterbottle fall from slender fingers into his LAP , before wrapping arms around herself . fatigued eyes lingering on peers , voice just loud enough to hear over music . " you look MISERABLE . you know you're supposed to look elated at these places , right ? "
There is a silence for a moment. It is not, nor will it be the last she has been told this. Perhaps it is just the nature of her now. Given how things have been it makes sense. There is a twinge of guilt, that maybe she should be softer, that maybe this war was cruel enough to everyone she should not add to it.
But, after that fleeting moments thin brows sharpen, features tighten. They need someone willing to step in and make a sacrifice when people like Brim and Sage can not. She is that, she is their worst case, she is their contingency. So she will let the fear swirl around her and envelop her like a tight hug, even if it deters the other agents.
❝Not all of us can afford the outlooks of Brimstone and Sage. Or Clove for that matter. I might be scary but--❞
It is not intentional. It is not to be cruel. The words cascade around in her head for a moment. She has to be methodical, she can not break the wall of who she is for this one.
Kat does not seem as gentle, as tender and held by the world as some of the others. But, that does not mean that she is able to understand this, to comprehend the things that Sabine knows. To be able to understand that Viper is not just some nickname here, that it is not just because of her dealings in toxins.
She is simply the realist of this team. And that is the horrifying reality of this.
❝It is my job to prepare you all for what waits for us each time we step through those doors. I am just more realistic in how I deliver that to you. I apologize if that makes you uncomfortable. ❞
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ SHE SUPPOSES there's truth lingering in the controller's words , watch as duelist herself leans against the wall , arms crossing over her CHEST , almost petulantly . don't mind how her body turns from the OTHER , like a silent snub that'll never be acknowledged . ( it's easier this way . or AT LEAST , that's all you can assume . it's so odd , wanting to be close to someone who so EASILY would rather turn the other cheek . why do you so desperately yearn for connection from someone who CLEARLY makes point to cut those who find themselves wandering too close . )
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ " I GUESS , " but she doesn't sound too convinced , gentle kind of acceptance , if not forced because of reality that they live in . radiant fiddles with scarred FINGERS : pink mist lingering and dissipating as soon as it APPEARS . ( you're still getting used to it . the radiance that hums in your VEINS . it feels too close to the things you felt yourself SO DEEP in just years ago , and for moments at a time --- you don't understand why you had ever done drugs . ) " but i don't need PREPARATION . "
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ AND IT'S EGO . obviously . nothing else , but perhaps the trust she's built with herself , not with the HIGH that courses through her and demands to be HEARD , buzzing like current , but with the weapons provided . ( it's a constant you find yourself finding comfort in : rifles no less a safety blanket when everything else FAILS . when you fail yourself . you always have it . it's a constant across worlds . ) " i just need your FAITH . " a pause . " you know you scare them , right ? the younger ones . "
ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ THERE'S CERTAIN tenderness lingering in hunter's touch , something so foreign for someone so violent . just barely ghost of TOUCH , teasing and TICKLING as pad of thumb wipes away viscous crimson . crosses LEG over the other , minding NOT how short dress gets shorter : even as cold air hits exposed skin . there's a certain FAUX curiosity that lingers in her EYES , like wanting to touch fire just to feel what it's like to get burned . " i can TELL , " sweet saccharine tones offer , but never accusatory , " it happens . you particularly hungry today , baby ? " tone of endearment lacks all kind of affection , find it more force of HABIT , like she does with most marks , tucking lock of hair behind his ear . " you gotta eat more . "
i honestly ADORE your writing. like every time i get a reply, i have to read it over like several times 'cos of how much your writing mesmerizes me!! it's very inspiring. you're so talented at descriptors -- describing kat & the current scenario, it REALLY immerses the reader into whatever scene you're writing!!! beautiful writing, beautiful muse, and beautiful blog!!!
ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ON ME. I CAN'T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH. accepting , always !
super anonymously sayin' I'm so fond of ms katarina & the depth of her lore. very excited to learn more about her as we write together! i can tell she's a complex character that you've put your heart 'n soul into! As for you, eepie, you're such a sweetheart in ims/ on the dash! It was real breezy talking to ya & plotting!!
ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ON ME. I CAN'T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH. accepting , always !
EEPIES #1 FAN. OR #2 BC SECOND PLACE IS A LIFESTYLE. your writing is amazing and so is your muse selection. everytime we write, it feels like in the character picking scene of CHOOSE YOUR FIGHTER. but its choose your writer with all your muses. i love writing with you and exploring all sorts of plots that we come up with. thank you for always indulging our plot bunnies - anon૮ฅ・ﻌ・აฅ
ANONYMOUSLY TELL ME YOUR HONEST OPINION ON ME. I CAN'T REPLY/COMMENT, JUST PUBLISH. accepting , always !
