#*vague sniffling*

[unriding]

hi evie !! how have you been ? :33 i hope you dont mind me borrowing you and moze for something ehehe <3

[snailcubezz]

replaying psychonauts again. oleander is so queer every time i think about it i need to sit down

[st4rstudent]

I've had this idea for a while but everytime I actually gave it thought, I'd get frightened last minute. But anyways, with summer coming up (and more free time), I've been considering making an ask blog of sorts just for fun. Does that seem like anything anyone would be interested in

naturally itd be more hc based because well. heh. looks around. gets scared

[tiredassmage]

“ Imperial Intelligence doesn’t discourage its agents from bonding. And that’s all this is about: bonding in the aftermath of a crisis. And creating a little good luck for a change. ”

[attroxx]

me trying to come up with backstory for my new oc while i’m exhausted and brain dead

[pochapal]

i have a cold and a nasty cough and i am not being brave about it

[moving-to-dreamwinged]

everycday i think. i should just reveal. what am i waiting for everyone is so Niceys on here and its fine its literally fine its not a big deal everyone else is public about their f/os so why arent i what is my problem. but ... the horrors of being known.... maybe soon maybe in a few weeks (i always say this)

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

live footage of me fighting for my life to play nice with solaris' immunocompromisation. btw. if you even care.

[nerdierholler]

I cleaned the house for 30 min and now I need a nap.

[nulltune]

hakuno has received ... an egg!! that's right, this fragile-seeming, half-phantasmal pod that was nevertheless large enough to take two arms to lift and hold ... was absolute proof that anybody here was not human. a black fog rolls about in the murky, semi-opaque shell, like thick wildfire smoke encased in lighter cigarette fumes. was that nothingness drifting about the center an embyro? regardless, it was up to hakuno to decide what to do with it now. nobody would have blamed her if she handed it off to the authorities in the manner of a dutiful citizen, (after which, it certainly might not see the light of day ever again,) or fed it to a snake just to see what might happen. the enormous pool of blood is quite telling of an unfortunate mishap as well, yet the egg says nothing, its inhabitant fast asleep and subdued. who knew when it might wake up and be born again? who knew what, or even who, it would be born as, into?

unprompted,  always accepting !   @tenkoseiensei  ♡

there had been no issue in transporting the item to her quarters,  though to the unassuming they'd think it to be a workload ill - suited for a lady of her stature,  the size of it merely obscuring her sight,  but such a thing didn't matter when one had the route to their destination memorized perfectly.  there was no delay to her movement speed,  nothing particularly of note.  if anything,  it was the blood that was ...  unpleasant.  ultimately,  it was inconsequential,  but it lingered in the back of her mind faintly.  the scent of iron,  the knowledge that it must've stained her clothes,  it was so much.  that amount must've resulted from—

the plastic bag tied to a close,  the red color on the fabric still prominent against the translucent material, and hakuno tosses it into the bin.  she washes her hands afterwards,  a sigh coming from her as the water runs clear.  her mind is similarly calm,  no longer distracted by what shouldn't have taken that much of her time,  she returns to the task at hand.

temperature,  humidity,  gaseous environment  —  verified.  it is unclear what stage of incubation the egg is at this moment,  but these conditions should be ideal ...

❛   if there is anything not to your liking,  please let me know.   ❜      she blinks at her own voice,  uncharacteristic for her to speak when alone,  thoughts kept all to herself without an issue—  but,  oh.  vacant eyes turning to the egg  ( carefully kept in an impromtu and specially made area ) ,  cool caramel eyes blink once more.  to already be recognised as a presence by her should signify a sign of life;  at the embryotic stage,  at the very least. 

this was something she should've confirmed at the scene where she'd first stumbled upon it,  but even she could've picked up on the vague sense of a lingering threat.  ‘ instincts ’  had seemed to kick in at that moment,  and although bringing along this large egg was not the ideal choice to make in such a situation,  the thought of leaving it behind was out of the question.

and now that the two of them are within safety,  it seemed that she was able to speak with more ease;  that was the logical conclusion to be made,  anyway.       ❛   do you know what it was that caused that—   ❜       recalling that sight,  hakuno's mouth briefly presses into a thin line.       ❛   —blood spill ?   ❜       it may be out of her field of concern,  but she'll look into it.  though at this moment,  first priority comes to  ...  her guest.

it is ...   what is it,  exactly ?   it looks somewhat ominous,  if she were like a regular person  /  human,  perhaps that would be the conclusion made.  with how she is though,  she merely accepts that as an aspect of this creature  —  the murkiness of its shell covering what lay beneath,  she wondered if it was hiding.  idle thoughts don't last long,  thoughts turning to trying to find out just what this embryo was  —  as it was right now,  she'll have to make do with what little she knew and ensure that the conditions were right for its sake.

it's unlikely.  but,  the possibility of—  being able to hear the sounds and noise of the world around you,  being able to hear everyone,  yet to be unable to utter a single word.  that is ...  so unbearably lonely.  taking a seat next to it,  she faces forward in the same polite way of sitting,  hands folded neatly by her lap.  though her side gaze lingered upon the ..  individual.        ❛   i apologise,  if you are speaking right now,  i'm afraid i cannot hear you.   ❜       what is she even doing ...  well,  to bombard the egg with questions in the first place was odd.  ( not to mention,  rude .. )       ❛   if you would like,  please feel free to speak as much as you'd like when i am able to listen.   ❜

shifting slightly in her position.       ❛   and,  if you have the intellectual capability for it in the future,  please do tell me what it's like—  to be born.   ❜       how curious,  even without any ties connecting the two,  hakuno found that the outcome of the egg perishing was incredibly  ...  unsatisfactory.  could this be the miracle of a life ?       ❛   i wouldn't know.   ❜       i was made,  after all.  whether her creation brought  ‘ joy ’  or  ‘ sadness ’  or maybe nothing at all,  she wouldn't know.  it doesn't matter.  not anymore.

eyes crinkling just a bit,  hakuno resists the urge to pat the egg  —  contact is unnecessary,  lest she do so to turn it for the sake of the incubation process.  instead,  her mind wanders within her still frame.  who are you ?   what are you ?   even without the answers,  she tilts her head to face it fully,  a vague flicker of warmth in the still pools of her eyes.

❛   you have a long life ahead,  i hope you may soon hatch to live it.   ❜

[finalexpenses]

witch plushie......

[a-love-poet-at-heart]

Turns out theres gonna be a Canadian production of Beaches the musical????

Which is fucking WILD to me as i remember seeing it at a local theatre back in 2015. Like its been almost a fucking decade and it was a local regional theatre and nows its gonna be in Canada???

[1000-thr]

they need to make a "talking to mutuals" that isnt scary. meet me on animal jam or something idfk man

[swampthingking]

tw: self harm and SA talk

headcannon that andrew takes up writing as a coping mechanism and actually turns out to be really fucking good at it

as the trial approaches, andrew’s arms begin to itch. the horrors he experienced are going to be torn apart in front of a jury, and he’s going to have to testify in front of a full courtroom about things he almost killed himself to hide.

neil knows andrew is struggling. he barely speaks, he barely eats, he’s missing class, and he dissociates through practice. it had crossed neil’s mind that andrew was close to breaking, and he supported andrew however he allowed it. a week before the trial, andrew’s nearly vibrating with the urge. he suddenly unsheathes his knives and hands them handle first to neil, his voice icy as he says, “hide them.”

so neil does. andrew wears them in public, but as soon as they get back to the dorm, andrew hands his knives over. neil always hides them. makes sure andrew eats and drinks water. makes sure he’s not falling behind on school. runs his fingers through andrew’s hair and rubs behind his ears when andrew drops his head onto neil’s stomach.

andrew brings it up in therapy, and bee and him brainstorm new coping mechanisms. andrew used cutting to take back control of his body; of his hurt, his physical pain. it grounded him. bee suggests writing to take back control of his brain, of his emotions, since that’s what’s been bothering him. the memories. the waiting.

andrew scoffs when he hears it at first, but agrees to try, almost out of humor. but that night, with the memory of the smell of his sheets at cass’s house stuck in his nose, he chainsmokes until the smell of the first bedroom he felt comfortable in is replaced with smoke. he opens a new journal and writes until his hand cramps. he writes about the sweet smell of hyacinths and powdery dryer sheets, the dichotomy of something so sweet being tainted by such horrifying events. how the ugliest lies are disguised in floral and the beautiful, freeing truths are wrapped in sooty, acrid smoke.

when he first read it back, it sounded like shit. there was no rhythm. it wasn’t enjoyable to read. it wasn’t supposed to be. he distantly thinks he should tear it up and shove it deep in the trash can where nobody else can see the remains. but he doesn’t. he pours over it, scribbling over the pages and replacing words, restructuring sentences so it flows better, mumbling to himself to see how the stanza feels on his tongue. when he’s done, the page looks abused and as angry as he is.

he rewrites it cleanly on the next page, the finished product. it’s easier to read without all the scribbles and angry, scratchy pen. the tension in his chest has eased. he didn’t remember when that happened, but he can breathe a little better. as he rereads it, he huffs a bitter laugh. him, “the monster,” the one who ruins everything, creating something with the same hands that almost killed four men. putting pen to paper and creating. all his life, he’d been fighting, ruining, maiming, and here he is, reading the product of something he felt… vaguely proud of.

his brows furrow. he turns to a blank page. he repeats the process with that thought.

the destroyer. the creator.

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[attroxx]

❛ @bedlamology said . . . 11. for lazy morning sex / botan and loni uwu ❜

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐕𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍. it's impossible not to feel his heart flutter at the sight of her, skin darkened red and lips parted. she's so shy, despite her daily demeanor, seeing her like this feels special. it's as if the world has slowed just for the two of them to share this space together. his bed was now their oasis where they both could whisper needs and wants, the horrors of the world far beyond their reach. hovering over her he swallows his nerves, unable to tear away from her piercing gaze. botan doesn't want this time to end. forever in this bed wouldn't be nearly enough time.

❛ is this . . . okay ? ❜ hopefully loni doesn't mind a clumsy lover, but they're trying, really. their fingers intertwine as hips hover over her own. lack of experience be damned he is bound and determined to make this an enjoyable time for loni. their own pleasure forgotten he leans in, capturing her in a tender kiss. free hand cupping her cheek they exhale a breath, content and happy. regardless of how this morning ended botan would be certain loni wouldn't be leaving this room until she felt worshiped, cared for and loved.

morning after meme. ― accepting.