#{ in character. }

[shigayokagayama]

RAAAAAAAA SERIREI SWEEP

[lunarsprincess]

Setting Prompt 007 @stories-from-the-warp

SETTING PROMPT 007: the ruins of an ancient structure lost to time.

❝ Through me... Is the way to the city of woe. Through me... Is the way to sorrow eternal. Through me is the way to the lost below. Abandon... ❞

The Princess' hands are smeared in dirt, gravel stuck between each finger and in the folds of her red palm. It had taken the better part of five minutes to clear the cellar hatch well enough to read, and another five before that to pull the corpses off it. Her tongue moves in guttural clicks and pops, faithfully repeating the inscription in its original dialect: the extinct language of an extinct people, the first colonists of Bela Tegeuse.

It left a bitter taste. She corrects it with a candy. And another. And perhaps one more. Switching to her cleaner hand, she sulkily licks off the sugar as she continues reading.

Even now, when she could no longer remember what age they built this temple before she consigned them both to the fire, the disappointment of having her own creation used for the compliments of Slaanesh lingered —— now, it festered into anger. How could it not? Yet another crop of obscene idiots had sung princely praises in her words, had writhed in that creature's name, and yet again, it had been her chore to send them to their master.

So lost is she in her poetry, she does not notice @stories-from-the-warp is stood behind her until her eyes fall to the last sentence, a candelit shadow upon the floor overlapping her own crouched one. The shock is palpable; she blushes, refusing to turn her head out of sheer shyness, and stretches out her bag of candy.

❝ Ah! My apologies! If I had known I had an audience, I would have read it in Low Gothic... Please, help yourself to a treat... Ahh, how rude of me... ❞

[greenmther]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. as much as she wishes to push it down, jealousy creeps up her spine to settle into her chest. it has ever since the first suspicion of rhaenyra's sons parentage had arisen in her own mind. it was plain to see--to her, to her own sons, to those around them yet no one speaks of it. for, she assumes, they fear the kings wrath if they should. though she mutters of it in own private quarters, never publicly outright, alicent know the truth. ❛ ser harwin, ❜ greets the queen with the same smile, with hands clasped at her front. chin lifted to meet his gaze, ❛ i couldn't help but notice in the training yard today that your focus seems rather . . . skewed toward the princess rhaenyra's sons. ❜ tone is level, no inclination of displeasure. ❛ mine own sons could use some of that attention, i believe. ❜

【 ✧ @loreforged liked for a starter ! 】

[islandiis]

[ he's reappearing after. a very long time. with his arms full of an ungodly amount of vegetables. ] [ he's looking very sheepish. ]

...hello. [ please take some cabbages from him. please. ]

[deaith]

the light of the campfire flickers and dims incessantly as the flames slowly but surely die of their own accord, unattended and unfed by the distracted party, the too-dark of the world around them seeming even darker by the shadows thrown by it. the night is quiet, foreboding, clouded with a static sense of dread. for a creature like rýsir, such things are typical, normal, welcomed. the same cannot be said for his unlikely companion.

@proditeur's skin is warm against rýsir's palm, all hot flesh and running blood and too-many veins (all vulnerable and on display), his heart-thrum a tempting familiarity that he ignores and forgoes for the time being, gyryth all too focused on the more important task that rests in his hands. his body is burning, his soul incandescent - a bleeding fissure in the known fabric of things, gushing and filling and overflowing with raw and scaling magic. regulus' very presence is music to rýsir's ears, the taste of his soul's blood still sticking to his tongue and teeth like some savory and irresistible thing. he can feel him cracking at the seams now, and rýsir knows he burns in this moment not because of the fire at their sides, but the magic that eats him alive from inside. eats him. what a curious thing.

hand cups one side of the sorcerer's neck, as if he is a friend instead of a near-stranger, one that rýsir has not taken pity on but rather has found a convenient use for. rare is it that he eats so regularly, yet regulus, with his bizarre predicament, offers a temporary and satisfying solution. his teeth are on the cusp of sinking into the soft of regulus' neck, lips nearly grazing the pulse-point, ready to bite, bite, bite. and then regulus speaks, and rýsir is not too distracted nor too hungry to not pull back, to listen.

" that's not proper etiquette. "

" and what is proper etiquette, alyima? " is the snap-quick response, rýsir's clawed thumb pressing oh, so lightly against that pliant and vulnerable spot just beneath regulus' jaw, where all it would take is a swift and precise jab to claw the underside of his tongue. there is a pause, short and noncommittal, before the gyryth eases his grip, shifts the pressure from talon to finger-pad, and moves his face just that much closer to regulus' own. he is going to bite, sooner rather than later. his hunger is a tangible, insatiable thing; this, regulus knows.

" would you like me to bring you wine first, and feed you with my hands? " tail swishes and shifts upon the earth, and despite the suddenly cooing tone of his words, there is a note of appalled condescension in the slight lilt of his voice. he inches closer, and though he does not tighten his hold on the hollow's neck, the way in which he slowly and gently runs his thumb against the other's adam's apple is threat enough. " should i find you a nice, expensive bed with nice, expensive sheets, so they may cushion you and hold you when you faint? " rýsir moves closer, sighing against regulus' cheek, speaking into his ear: " do you want me to tell you it will be okay? "

proper etiquette. what proper etiquette is there when you are dying? when the you that exists, has existed, is dying? what niceties and polite courtings can be offered when your very identity and self thrive on nothing but smoke, when even mayflies seem to have more fulfilling and promising lifespans than you? something like a growl rises in rýsir's throat, irritation ringing clear - not so much so as a result of regulus being difficult and denying him a quick and easy meal, but because he cannot begin to understand what the point in waiting is. rip the bandage off, tear the scab, let yourself bleed and get it all over with until it's time to do it again.

" you run on borrowed time, princeling, and right now, you are beginning to split. you may not have time for etiquette - much less all of this talking. "

[hopedflight]

"—there's a spicy book club?"

congratulations! you have awoken the hoarder of romance books.

"...can i join?"

[staghanszoomies]

I’M NOT A FUCKIG IDIOT if anything u are

( @azeyjah ignore my main acc anon asks aren’t on 🥺 u didn’t see anything oOooo)

well sometimes what I said about you is positive

Miss you dumbass 😞

[diluviium]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ@solere submitted an inquiry ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤI think you need a practice partner for kissing scenes

FIRST OF ALL; No I do not, I have plenty of experience. (Lying). SECOND OF ALL; What experience in acting at all do you have? And not the lying type of acting, I mean acting on a STAGE. THIRD OF ALL: What experience do you have with ROMANCE ACTING? If you truly have any perhaps I will accept tips or pointers on how to make a scene more natural, but I expect you to work hard to prove your talent before acting to be my practice partner.

[usagimen]

   "What even is a body count?" no one tell her specifically, she's quietly contemplating while pouring coffee then perking. "Is it how many you've managed to successfully taken down? I somehow fear that's not what it means"

[kotaerukoto]

" Sure, it can be tiring, but... I think yard work can be pretty satisfying. My hands are a little dirty and scraped up, yeah, but I don't mind-- In a way, it's kind of like physical proof that I worked hard. "

[greenmther]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 to herself after it was made & set into motion. though, she hadn't anticipated the connection in question to be quit so close to home. someone through a connection of her father, a friend of sorts as he had been described--marius, yes, a name she'd heard about court since she was younger but never had she laid eyes on him. ( what else was she to do ? her husband has passed, her father fired as hand once more. her sons so determined to be deaf to her voice. she needed someone . . someone outside of the inner circles. someone who had little likelihood to yearn for power in the way other men around her do. ) as he is announced, the queen stands to firmly clasp hands at her front. dressed in her green & gold finery, alicent raises her head but keeps eyes level with his as he's escorted in. ❛ thank you for coming. ❜ greets the dowager queen allowing a friendly smile. ❛ armand, was it ? ❜

【 ✧ @tahtalard liked for a starter ! 】

[bad268]

Empty (C! Dream Team X Reader)

Fandom: Dream SMP

Requested: Day 14 of Writing Inktober prompts instead of drawing!

Warnings: Depressed reader

Pronouns: You/your

W.C. 438

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

Writing Inktober 2022 Materlist

~~(^Google/Redbubble)

They knew this was coming. As soon as you alluded to violence, something you tried your best to stay out of, they knew. One day, you would crack. They just did not expect it to be today.

They were running around L’Manburg, frantically looking for you as they knew that Wilbur was planning on blowing it up. It wasn’t until Sapnap saw you talking with Wilbur in an alley that they knew what was going to happen. Instead of immediately running to you, Sapnap went in search of Dream and George, knowing it would be easier to talk you down with all of them there. When they all came back, you were gone, and Wilbur was nowhere to be seen.

It is when they see Philza running towards the alley that they see a hidden button that a secret door opened up, and inside, you starring blankly at the only button on the wall.

“Y/N/N,” George said quietly as they all entered the room. You don’t acknowledge them. “What are you doing?”

“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” you started. “They hate us. They hate me. And I was one of the ones who built it.” You paused. You looked back at your three boyfriends. George looked upset, Sapnap looked angry, and you couldn’t see Dream’s face. You just smiled at them, but the glint in your eye did not show happiness. Your eyes were wild, and none of them could gauge your next move. You turned back to the wall before shouting, “The thing that I build this nation for doesn’t exist anymore!”

“Wait,” Dream interrupted. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t do whatever you’re thinking of,” Sapnap tried.

“It’s over,” you laughed as you pressed the button and TNT began exploding around the festival. Dream and Sapnap jumped to pull you back, from getting killed, while George was frozen in shock. Once it came to an end, your laughing stopped, and you signed, “it’s finally over.”

“Are you okay? Why would you do that?” Sapnap exclaimed burying his face into your neck, glad that you didn’t lose your last life.

“They hate me,” you said simply. You pointed out toward the citizens of L’Manburg who were all looking at the four of you.  “Look at them.”

“They don’t hate you,” George said, coming up behind you. Dream stood in front of you all, blocking the view of onlookers.

“Why would you do that?” Dream pushed quietly.

“I’m empty, so if you’ve ever loved me, kill me,” you said with a wavering voice and tears collecting in your eyes. “Please.”

~Y/N was killed by Dream with Nightmare~

~~~~~

© BAD268 2022. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[staringrole]

| @redvenante cont.

“ awh, c'mon, can't blame a girl for wanting to read up on her new boss. especially someone as infamous as the red hood. apparently you're like super dangerous. a murderer even ! ” she feigns shock with a hand clutching her chest and an overdramatic gasp. “ there you go again; flirting with me. ” the hood of her cloak has been pushed back to reveal a half covered face and perfectly slicked hair pulled into a ponytail. “ you're gonna have to do something about your little crush. ”

“ right. ” piercing white eyes roll at his macho grand standing, resisting the urge to laugh at the stereotypical response. “ feelings make you stupid, weak. blah blah blah. i've heard it all before from big, tough guys like you [...] the minute you catch feelings you're dead. ” the last bit is spoken in a gruff, deep mechanical voice. it was jason's own altered one.

[skysteppe]

STATUS: EXTREMELY FUCKED UP STAIRCASE IT'S NOT LIKE A NORMAL STAIRCASE IT'S CURLY >>> new team assemble! @howlighte , @galacticemperorsolaris , @cardhearted

“Yikes.”

Yikes is right. He wasn’t even prepared to fight ghosts with his own team, now he’s gotta battle the ghoul realm with this guy, that kid, and Jack. Davaa’s deadpan exclamation of dread and frustration did little to portray he was actually perturbed. He was at least 2% perturbed.

The following deep sigh did more to get across the exhaustion. He scratched the back of his head, then craning his neck to survey his immediate surroundings. More tacky architecture. Super! 

Davaa cups his hands around his mouth as if about to shout. “YOOOOOO!” then he shouts. Just the three of them, and himself. “Huh. This sucks. Bet we're not even getting financial compensation, what if I develop a disease in 20 years?”

[sunsweets-a]

               "  ah,  sorry   ..   he's  not  bothering  you,  is  he  ?  "   a  nervous  chuckle  falls  from  roseate  lips,  aoife's  expression  twisted  into  a  mixture  of  concern  and  apology.   she  reached  down  to  pet  her  dog,  clearly  a  bit  older  in  age  but  still  very  healthy,  youthful,  and  vibrant  in  personality.   she  had  only  meant  to  stop  inside  pierre's  shop  for  a  few  minutes,  and  pooch  usually  did  well  to  stay  right  by  the  door,  sat  patiently  and  waiting  for  her  to  return.   but  clearly,  someone  of  interest  had  caught  his  eye.  

"  i  hope  he  didn't  startle  you. he's a friendly dog.  "    pooch  meant  well,  after  all   –   even  now,  there  was  no  hostility  in  the german shepherd's  eyes  as  his  tail  wagged  to  and  fro,  mouth  open  as  he  panted  in  contentment.

open starter. mutuals only, pre established on acquaintances acceptable. aoife's dog, pooch, wandered off and approached one of the people in pelican town while she was shopping in pierre's.

[spyderdust]

"hey! that shit's not fer fuckin' free! why do you think i live in a rent free fucking hotel?! i'm broke! give me my shit back!"