#Haha pig blood

[thetenamongstthesethrees]

GOT TO SEE CARRIE THE MUSICAL ON THE 18TH QND HOLY SHIT IM IN LOVE

[frnknstin]

"What are you looking for now?" — From Sherlock Holmes. ( @reverdies )

Victor rose slowly from the open cabinet, turning to face Holmes with an expression that comically screamed "child caught in the act." Clearing his throat and avoiding Holmes' gaze, he stumbled over an excuse for the mess he had made. "Why, I was just... you know..."

Holmes' tone made Victor feel even more like a guilty child. Determined to regain his composure, Victor straightened up, placing his hands on his hips and lifting his chin. "I was looking for more of that blood test which you created, when I looked in what I thought was the chemicals cabinet it—why, it was full of different types of bullets." He decided to omit the detail about the blood-stained ones. "So, I thought, maybe it could be here, in the kitchen, yet—" He paused, glancing back at the open cabinet and the stench emanating from it. "That—now that would be a collection of pig hearts. Marinating. Decomposing. On a kitchen shelf."

He had found tobacco in a Persian slipper, cigarettes in the coal scuttle, and suspected he might find a new will to live somewhere among the unanswered correspondence pinned to the mantelpiece with a knife. Victor was fairly sure he had lost his old will to live in the opium stored in the Russian nesting dolls.

Why was he even apologizing? Holmes was the one living in a pigsty. Victor kept his chemistry materials impeccably organized, bullets in the kitchen icebox, pig hearts on the bathroom counter, and tobacco in his wallet, as any sensible person would.

Exasperated, he gestured vaguely at the chaotic cabinets. "This is—this—" Victor turned back to Holmes, seemingly at a loss for words. "What is this, Mr. Holmes?"

[trinkettes]

the contrarian part of me wanted to not like the character everyone loves, but unfortunately i must admit that the sexy vampire everyone likes in baldur's gate. is very likable.

[selineram3421]

👁️

You're Off-key

Part 1

Prologue

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ italics=thoughts, swear words, some or many book of bill spoils, blood, mentions of a concussion, minor panic attack, we pacing now lol, ugh Disney mention ⚠

Ow..

You woke up in pain and the sunlight hitting your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Like a lot.

Geez.. You thought with a groan. Why is everything so bright? What is this vividness? Disney?

Sitting up, you notice that you're still in the woods and it's around noon or at least in the afternoon. Rubbing the back of your head, you try to remember what happened.

I was in the woods..with spaghetti and..my best friend was going to take my picture. Ow-!

You hiss and you pull your hand away from your head, finding blood once getting a look at it.

"Oof ok, time to go get help.", you said to yourself and stood up.

Like any gamer out there, you checked your surroundings before checking your inventory. So far you were deep in the woods that looked oddly..cartoonish? And you had a backpack nearby with a water bottle, phone, and wallet inside.

Where's my flashlight? Wait, I had a flashlight? Also, where's by bestie?

Every time you thought about it your head would start hurting.

"Never mind that, I have to get moving before it gets dark out.", you sighed and began walking.

In all honesty, you did not know where you were going. Just picked a direction and decided that was good enough. Maybe you'll find civilization or maybe you're walking deeper into the woods. Who knows!

My brain is a little optimistic right now. You thought. Or maybe it's due to lack of sleep.. I was driving the whole time.

Then you started getting a little clumsy.

Tripping, swaying, falling flat on your face a few times, and overall just feeling drained. Also, you kept hearing maracas? Was that some kind of bird or something?

Ah, wait. Wasn't that the Hide Behind? You remembered about reading it in Journal 3 and that scene when Mabel says maraca owl. Maybe it is a maraca owl or maybe it's the tall thing that follows people.

Currently, you were laying on the ground because you fell..haha. AGAIN.

Thank Glob you landed on grass this time.

Ok. Do I or do I not take a nap? Probably not the best choice because I might have a concussion. Hm..the choices.

Deciding on one last try, you push yourself off the ground, take a quick sip of water, and continue on your journey! Nothing was gonna stop you now-!

Oh, a bird!

Then you ran into something, fell back and hit your head on the ground.

It was silly because it was kinda like a light switch.

You were awake and then you passed out,

Ha!

⯅

OW! How many times am I going to wake up in pain!?

"Great job Dipper! You killed someone!", a feminine voice said.

"They aren't dead! They just hit their head and passed oUt after they fell!", another voice says with a slight voice crack.

"Haha ha!", the girl laughs. "Your voice cracked."

Slowly waking up, you feel a type of rocking motion, like you're in a car or something.

A car!?

You sit up quickly. Too quickly and almost fall out of the golf cart but someone manages to pull you back to the seat.

"Whoa! Careful, you do not want to fall out of this thing when going almost full speed.", the female voice says next to you.

Looking over, you find a brown haired girl wearing a keyboard sweater.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! I have a pet pig named Waddles!!", she introduces herself loudly.

You feel your head hurt at her polite screeching.

"Ow. Hold on, give me a sec.", you say and rub your forehead.

"Uh.. Mabel? It's not a good idea to be loud around someone who just woke up after hitting their head.", the guy says, who you are assuming is driving the golf cart.

"Oops.", the girl, Mabel, smiles at you sheepishly. "My bad."

You wave her off.

"It's fine, I've dealt with worse.", you reassure.

"Let me start again.", she says and extends a hand for you to shake. "I'm Mabel and the one driving the golf cart is my twin brother, Dipper."

"STOP THE CART!"

The golf cart screeches to a stop and you hobbled your way out, beginning to pace back and forth.

Holyshitthisexplainsalot!That'swhyeverythingwassobrightandcartoonybecasuethisisfuckingDisneyshit!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH-!

"Uh..you ok there?", Mabel asks.

"Um? Maybe? I-", you begin but then panic about what to say next.

Shitshitshitshit! Think of something! Anything!

"I don't remember how I got into the woods..", you say and cringe.

Yeah! Nice job! Now you're suspicious! YA DOINKUS!

"O..k, so you hit your head harder than we thought.", Dipper speaks up. "Let's get you patched up and see what we can do from there, ok?"

Pros: Going with two of your favorite characters will lead to adventures. Cons: They might try to read your mind to see if you're a threat and might threaten you with some random weapons..

.....

"I guess I can go with you guys until I can go to the hospital or something.", you say and finally stop imprinting foot prints into the dirt.

"Cool!", Mabel cheers. "Let's go! I've got Mabel juice in the fridge and I wanna see if the new dinosaurs inside taste different!"

"That's not how that works.", her brother mumbles and puts the golf cart in drive.

Hopping back on, you notice your backpack was opened.

"Uh? Who raccooned into my pack?", you asked.

"Racooned?", the Pines driving asks.

"Dug through your stuff? That was Dip.", Mabel says, completely understanding what you meant.

"Oh, sorry.", Dipper pipes up. "That was to see your ID, nothing else. I mean, wouldn't you try to identify someone after they passed out randomly?"

He is kinda right.

"Understandable racooning.", you say and start to brain storm ideas for a plan on how to stay under the radar.

Ok, so I might have/most likely freed Bill and now I have to do something about it before he's running wild around Gravity Falls again...fun.

You sigh and just decide to sit back and enjoy the ride for now.

Jerk didn't let me keep the pictures.

The sun was starting to set, within a few minutes you saw the Mystery Shack in the distance.

23 1 12 11 9 14 20 15 20 8 5 16 9 14 5 19

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @+?

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

[burningcheese-merchant]

Is it just me or does Burning Spice give me a lot of possessive yandere vibes?

Wait, hear me out: Yan! Burning Spice x Golden Cheese.

You're right on the money, brother 🙌🙌🙌 You understand completely.

One-sided BurningCheese can't NOT have Spice be a yandere. That level of pure evil, plus all that suspicious behavior I outlined in my ship masterpost? Foregone conclusion, practically. She didn't just steal his Soul Jam, she stole his fucking sanity. She's the air that he breathes. The blood pumping through his veins. She's the only reason he's got left to live. The ultimate truth of the universe is that they were destined from the moment she took his Soul Jam. He belongs to her, and she belongs to him. It's as simple as that.

That hooded subordinate that tagged along with her to Beast-Yeast? The only reason he's still alive is because Spice was too busy focusing on his beloved. He HATES that little worm. He wants his head on a pike YESTERDAY. How dare he look at her? How dare he speak to her? How dare he smile and laugh and reminisce with her? This won't do. No, no, no.

Her friends, the other heroes? Absolutely not. Where were they when she lost everything? While she succumbed to grief and delusion for all those years? When she awoke in empty ruins? HE was there, in a way. By her side, through their connection via the Soul Jam. He's already done so much for her. She's always been in his thoughts, in his heart. The only thing keeping him going inside that prison was her. The thought of her. Her image, her voice, the unspoken promise between them... That promise to finally meet, to battle, to become one. Did THEY do anything like that for her? Did THEY hunger for her day and night like he did? Like he still does? She doesn't need them, they're all failures. They're WEAK. He isn't.

Her kingdom? Her people? All dead, you say? Slaughtered like pigs, stitched back together and stuffed into golden caskets in a feverish, feeble attempt at self-soothing? GOOD. She doesn't need them, either. WEAKLINGS. FOOLS. Had it not been that vile witch, it would've been him instead, because he can't stand the thought of her caring for anything and anyone else but him. She was enough for him, she was his entire world, why can't he be the same to her? How could anyone else understand her? Love her? Please her? HE can do those things. HE knows her, HE loves her, HE wants her, HE needs her, more than any of them ever did or ever will.

He broke out of prison for her. He sent his soldiers on a back-breaking hunt for her. He waited, and waited, and waited - in that tree, in that container, in his tomb, on his throne, for hours and hours and hours, for her. Just for her. He'd NEVER waste a single second of his time like this for anyone else. No one's ever captivated him like this before. Inspired him, hypnotized him. Not even when he was still a hero. She's different. She truly is a goddess. HIS goddess. They're two halves of one whole. So different, but so much alike in so many ways. It is destiny. THEY are destiny.

And if he has to resume his reign of terror, if he has to crush every spice under his command, if he has to comb every inch of Beast-Yeast- no, the WORLD - in search of her, if he has to raze what little remains of her civilization to the ground, if he has to rip all of her friends to pieces, if he has to beat that absolute truth into her himself, then SO FUCKING BE IT!

Haha delusional mass murdering stalker go brrr

Hope this unwarranted writing ramble satisfies you lol

[squeakadeeks]

Can I be nosy and ask how you got scurvy. In exchange you can take anything you want from my fridge vegetable drawer

oh totally. the fact that i had scurvy remains one of the weirdest twists in this ol life o' mine.

part of this story is funny, the other part not so funny. (TW EDs)

the not so funny part is I got to the point of developing scurvy in an insanely predictable way. I've had a clinical ED all my adult life and a lot of the PSAs warn you about the surface level stuff like "your hair will fall out!" "you'll be tired all the time!" which....yeah. but if you restrict hard enough and long enough youre basically doing a "stranded on a desert island DIY POV" simulation. not to sugar coat it but I was deeply unwell and doing some absolutely Insane things. i was living hot Sir Ernest Shackleton boy summer. except it wasnt hot it was horrible and Shackleton probably wouldve been deeply disappointed and confused by the whole situation.

but as one would naturally imagine if you are tit for tat nutritionally larping as a castaway, you will. Develop Diseases. I remember suddenly noticing that my teeth looked like straight ass and I was getting mouth sores but I wasnt sure why. I developed a fever for weeks that i couldnt shake, the skin on my hands kept chafing off and my fingers would lock up, in general my skin was really bizzare looking with weird scabs and dark spots, and overall i felt utterly awful. Ive been struggling with this for awhile so some of that was my ""normal"" at the time so I didnt really connect the dots until I was reading something about scurvy and went "haha funny sailor disease" only to pause and realise that with my dietary habits, i hadnt eaten fruit or anything containing vitamin C in well over a full calendar year. this caused me to look up the symptoms of scurvy with dawning horror that this mystery onset of symptoms was disturbingly close to scurvy, prompting me to go to the dr and low and behold I basically had la croix flowing through my veins with how terrible my blood levels were.

I was moving out for grad school within the season and i really didnt want to start that with a goddamn captain hook ass disease so for months I had to macrodose on vitamin C like I was a prized guinea pig. seeing those huge tablets still gives me flashbacks.

what gets funny is literally within the week of learning I had scurvy....I also had a major ocular melanoma scare. of which one of the treatments is to surgically remove the eye and/or have eyepatches involved. so for a few months in the summer of 2021 i was hobbling around with scurvy and an eyepatch on this beautiful green world of ours.

[heartfullofleeches]

Yan Player + Ghoul Reader

A player who showers their new classmate in gifts and praise in hopes of scoring a new lay. A slightly off-putting, but cute wallflower who true to their nature shies away from player's advances. "You don't want me. It'll just cause trouble for the both of us." Playing hard to get - how adorable. Truth be told, that aloof oddball is one of the cutest things they've seen in recent years. Aw, well - more fish in the sea. Player tucks a photo of that classmate in their wallet and tries to move on, but every partner they take on has some trait that reminds them of that person. They do anything to impress them while having the pretty thing they've been going "steady" with on their arm to no reaction everytime. They express genuine concern for their classmate with their fluctuation in weight and physical strength. It's so annoying - just like that knife pointing at their neck.

"You fucking asshole! I've seen how you look at them. You think you can just invite me over to your house and cover up the murals dedicated to them without me finding out? I know I'm not the only one either.... I'm going kill you, and hang you out to bleed - like the fucking pig that you are!"

They always knew this would come back to bite them in the ass, but not like this. Accepting their fate, they shut their eyes as their attacker advances. The wet squelch of tearing flesh rings sickly in their ears - but it's neither their blood spilled or their attacker's blade who dealt the killing blow. They open their eyes to see skin caught between another set of teeth - their partner reaching out to them to grab onto the faux strings of their love to save them from the fangs puncturing their jugular.

"H..elp...."

Snap.

With the last of their strength, they stab upwards. Like an unwanted doll, their body crumbles gracelessly to the floor. Tears rain upon their already soaked cheeks as to the silhouette loaming over falls to their knees; talons clawing at those jagged protrusions sticking out of their gums - a familiar bracelet around their wrist dyed in blood. They yank the knife sticking out of the side of their face like a thorn, the damage inflicted and the wear of starvation sealed under the grace of fresh, human blood.

"No.....nononono. I'm sorry.... I'm sorry... They were going to hurt you, and I'm.....I'm... so hungry. I didn't mean to do it. I had to do it. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. You're my only friend. I'm sorry!"

Their heart hammers in their chest, threatening to break free and crawl into their throat. You really were....the cutest thing they'd ever seen.

Player follows you everywhere after that. They can't let you slip out of their sights, or you may attempt to transfer schools like you'd done in the past. Nobody understands why such an outgoing and attractive person hovers over someone like you, but expressing their feelings on the matters vocally just results in them gaining some needed target practice and you with another hot meal. Long sleeves have never been their style, but it's better than people spreading the wild accusations that you of all people are hurting them - when they offer their flesh to you willingly and cook it into dishes they force you to eat in public or use the power of their influence on the student body and cry until the glaring eyes, and your hunger, break you. Their friends record you eating raw meat outside of the convenience store you bought it from and they couldn't be more disgusted. That beef was almost purely fat and they had a nice, healthy lean cut for you in their fridge.

-

Ghoul Reader, covered in blood and missing half their cheek from the force at which they rip out the knife: Sob - hick I'm a monster....

Yan Player: Haha, no baby - you're so sexy

[little-saw]

little ! brahms heelshire x cg ! billy lenz headcanons !! ☆ *

they me and my buppy!!! i nervous to post this cause i don't know much about brahms!! I gonna watch some clips of him, though, to try and understand his character!! Cw: billy lenz/srs, murder, blood, horror, cussing, tickling, etc.

Note: author hcs billy lenz to have a speech inpediment, and billy and brahms have a romantic relationship.

req by: @lopsidedghoul (my buppy!!)

billy.. he isn't exactly prepared to be a cg, nor is he that good at it. when given a set of rules and a fussy brahms, he's a little cruel, making fun of brahms for needing this.

that is until tears start, and Billy suddenly feels 100 times worse. "Nono- little piggy billy is kidding! Y-Yeah, haha.. billy is just an idiot."

listens to brahms babble, usually just says, "Yeah. " "Wow." (Doesn't know how to communicate he just hopes this helps)

brahms likes tea parties, sitting down with his doll and billy on an old blanket in the attic. Billy isn't entirely sure how to cook.. so he sorta just gives brahms water and bread.. little brahms still knows how to make tea, thankfully

billy is especially careful with the doll. He knows how much it means to brahms, and he may be an ass, but he isn't that cruel.

likes to play murder with brahms, little brahms scurries around with metal pipes and knives and will try to find billy to "kill him." (Billy will violently pretend to die, earning some giggles from his baby.)

When its brahms turn, he hides in his secret spot every time behind the mirror in the walls. Billy is used to complaining, "Find a new spot stupid pig." But eventually realized this was brahms way of play, and began looking around as if he didn't know where he was. "Where's Billys oinker? I'm g-gonna get ya.." When he finds him, he'll tickle brahms' sides. "STAB STAB STAB STAB!"

brahms doesn't exactly enjoy being inside cooped up all the time, so they will go in the garden, brahms typically sits in the mud, playing with the sticks and rocks and mumbling to himself.

little brahms tends to struggle with words when fully regressed. He whines a lot and makes little grumble noises. He stares and sniffs when he wants something and growls a little when angry. But he is hushed down by Billy, who will rub his back, "Big Billy h-has you, little piggy.."

billy likes watching brahms babble to his music, classical music that is, he rocks back and fourth and taps his mask while he listens to the piano.

billy will fill up brahms' bottle with warm milk. He knows how to warm it at least, agnes needed her own milk warmed when she was alive. brahms is like 5 times bigger than Billy, so it's difficult to sit him in his lap to take his bottle. "Good.. good brahms.. making Billy proud.. good, good.."

christmas time is, of course special, billy likes to set up the tree and have brahms fluff up the top of it where Billy can't reach. For his hard work, Billy will pet his hair.

They set out cookies for santa, brahms reads stories by the fireplace, pointing at the pictures, and babbling to billy.

when it's bedtime, Billy will light a candle (scented some cheap holiday scent) to light up the room and will then lay brahms down for bed, he will plant a kiss on his mask before waving. "Bedtime.. bed bed - sleep well piggy.." Billy returns to the attic, leaving the door open in case his baby needs him.

[buriedpentacles]

Alternatives to Blood for Magic

Tw: discussion of blood (obvs)

Part of my devotion to Mother Nature does involve blood offerings and as I did give some blood in a ritual today I thought I'd share some alternatives to blood for those that want them!

First, why use blood at all?

Blood is used in a number of rituals and offerings for a number of reasons. It is commonly used as a binding ingredient that connects the caster (or whoever's blood it is) to the spell whether that be as a target or as a reviecer.

Blood can represent many things from life and power, to femininity and intuition (mostly menstrual blood for that). It is a very powerful symbol.

As an offering, it can be a sign of deep devotion as it is your life force (though that does not make it a "better" offering than anything else).

Note: I believe(?) that in many forms of Hellenism, blood is not considered an appropriate (and by some, even an offensive) offering to the gods. It is up to you to research and decide whether it is appropriate for you and your practice.

Alternatives to Blood

I often use these alternatives and only use my own blood for "special" rituals. I do not encourage people to harm themselves for their practice. If you are someone who is not comfortable drawing your own blood for magical reasons (and that is perfectly okay) then here are some ways to substitute it:

Fake blood - the obvious one here, not much to say about it haha!

Pomegranate juice - Pomegranate juice looks pretty similiar to blood, it's safe to consume and pour into the environment and pomegranates have similiar associations to blood!

Blackberries - These fruits are currently ripening in my area and when crushed they make an excellent blood alternative. In fact, I recently used them in a small devotional act to Mother Nature (picture below).

Water, dyed red - simple and budget friendly! Safe to consume and usually perfectly fine for the environment (check the dye first though!)

Red ribbon - this is great if you want something to symbolise blood that is more lasting and permenant!

Animal blood - some butchers will sell animal blood (usually pig because of black pudding) and you can even get it dried! Make sure to do your research on legality, ethics and please don't go out and collect your own.

Other bodily fluids - If the purpose of the blood in a spell is to bind the spell to someone then you can use any other piece of DNA; spit, sweat, etc. Even hair can be used, and it is much less invasive!

Menstrual blood - if you have a menstrual cycle, you may choose to use this blood in a ritual if the timing is right! Please, please, please be sensible. When using blood you MUST remember that it is a biohazard, even if its your own. Be sensible. Be clean.

[cassieisinthebasementt]

Linked universe X Epic: the musical

Legend should have known something bad was coming from the moment he showed up. He should have been able to guess what was about to happen. When he showed up. 

They were in his own Hyrule, setting up camp after a battle with black blooded monsters. Legend had offered to find firewood. That’s when he showed up.

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?”

Legend knew that voice.

“You.” He spit out the name like a bitter tasting fruit.

“Have you forgotten to turn off your heart?”

He appears. A child. A small, blonde, child in a green tunic. His eyes were fully red and his skin was paler than a ghost. Anyone could tell this was a spirit.

“This is not you.”

He slowly walks around him in a circle, 

“I see you changing from how I’ve designed you.”

The child is directly in front of Legend, pointing his finger at him.

“Have you forgotten your purpose?”

The child shifts from a kid to an adult, red blood seeps through the green tunic he is wearing. 

“Let me remind you.”

Legend could feel the ground beneath him giving in and letting him fall into the great abyss. When he lands, he lands next to another spirit, one who looks like Warriors with a red scarf.

“Spirit of heroes,”

“Master of war,”

He holds up a sword. Similar to the master sword, but very, very different.

“My life has one mission…”

The spirit thrusts the sword forward, and a path of heroes appears behind him. Legend recognizes a few. Sky, Four, Time, Wind, Twilight, himself, Hyrule, and Warriors. The rest he does not know.

“Create the greatest warrior~”

Above him, the sky cracks. Falling through those cracks were books.

 “I had a challenge, a test of skill,”

All those books flew together and created a silhouette of a familiar pig. 

Ganon.

“An accursed boar only the best could kill,”

Pages from the remaining books flew together and formed another silhouette.

Him.

Younger him to be more specific.

“One day a boy came for the thrill,”

It drew its sword…

“A boy whose mind rivaled the boar’s own will.”

…and thrust it skywards.

“Maybe one day he’ll follow me, and we’ll make a greater tomorrow,”

Legend watched the recreation of his first Ganon fight.

“Then they’ll see I know he’ll change the world, cause he is a warrior or the mind,”

It ended.

“Maybe one day I’ll reach him…”

“And we can build his skills as I teach him. If there’s a problem, he’ll have the answer,”

The books flew towards the cracks in the ceiling and mended them.

“He is a warrior of the mind~”

Shadows seeped from the ground; creating a forest. A young boy was running through that forest when he came to a halt.

“Show yourself, I know you're watching me, show yourself…”

“…”

“…I can see you?”

Another person appeared.

“How can you see through my spell?”

The young boy flinched and turned around, to where the other person was standing.

“Haha! I was lying, and you fell for my bluff! Hehehehe!”

Opposite from him, the person smirked and stepped towards him.

“Well done, enlighten me, what’s your name?”

“You first and maybe I’ll do the same.”

“Nice try, but two can play this game.”

He smirked back.

“Nah, don’t be modest, I know you're a spirit, so let’s be honest…”

“You are the heroes spirit,”

The man does not flinch. If he did not have as much control he would have.

“Badass in the arena, unmatched, witty, and king of, the best heroes we’ve seen,”

“If you're looking for a mentor, I’ll make sure your time’s well-spent.”

The boy does finger guns.

“Sounds like a plan, spirit and man, bestest of friends!”

“We’ll see where it ends,”

“Okay.”

Maybe one day they’ll follow me…

Legend sees the events of his other adventures.

And we’ll make a greater tomorrow…

Every moment

Then they’ll see I know we'll change the world 

Every victory 

Cause we are the warriors of the mind

Every loss

Maybe one day we’ll reach them 

And every end

And we can build their skills as we teach them

If there’s a problem we’ll have the answer 

We are the 

Warriors of the mind

Time returns to the present, and the hero's spirit is towering over Legend. He grips his shirt and tugs it towards his face.

“I still intend to make sure you don’t fall behind,”

The hero's spirit pushes him to the ground. 

“Don’t forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind.”

He points his sword skyward.

“You are a warrior of the mind.”

Legend is now standing back in the forest where he was instructed to collect firewood.

“Don’t disappoint me…”

A voice leaves that instruction in his head. Legend returns to camp.

“You good?” Wind, who is sitting on a log by the fire, glances up at Legend with concern. He was gone an awful while, long enough for Wild to forget that he was supposed to grab the firewood and gather some himself.

“I'm fine, sailor.” Wind didn’t buy that for a second, but he also didn’t want to push. So he didn’t. Everyone dug into dinner.

First watch was given to Legend. He volunteered for it as an excuse to not fall asleep. Their veteran did not want to take the risk of another godly encounter. That’s exactly why it’s his fault when a blue portal swallows their group and spits them out on an island in an unfamiliar land.

[tadpolesonalgae]

His (Mine.) - Azriel x reader

A/N: anyone remember Filthy Mongrel? Well, this is the beginning of it all! Haha, I totally haven’t been fantasising about this dynamic for the past seven months (for the love of god, don’t embarrass me by figuring out how long this has been in my drafts)

Warnings: reader being bit of a dick to Azzie, swearing, Lord Devlon, only child writing siblings

“What?”

Your father’s brow dipped, lip curling at your tone, but chose to ignore it in favour of being rid of you as quickly as possible, “you know what the rules are.”

“You’re the one set against females learning to fight in the first place. Why am I being punished for not turning up to those lessons?” You seethed, hands clenched at your sides. “Be ready for tomorrow morning.” His tone made it clear that in his mind, the conversation was finished.

“No way,” you felt your temperature drop, surely as the blood drained from your face, “you’re actually expecting me to go along with this?” His brow remained dipped in distain at your unwelcome outburst. You huffed an empty laugh, “you want me to train with that dog?”

“That’s the end of the conversation.”

“Father—”

“Enough.”

You swallowed at the tone. He was serious.

“Out.”

You moved to open your mouth, but he stood from behind his desk. How pretentious was that? Calling your own daughter all the way into your office, that was in a whole other structure to your home. Still, you gritted your teeth, “have you no concern for your daughter? None?” His face was hard, but he wasn’t flaring his wings as a sign of warning so that was something. “You’d throw me to that beast over some small missteps?”

“Edvard will escort you to and from training, outside his own lessons,” was all your father replied with.

“But he trains for so much longer than I do. There will be hours of unmonitored time between the end of my session and his,” you pushed, heart beat raising slightly at the thought. “You should have thought about that before you failed to show up for the past three months.”

Your lips pursed.

“Now,” he spoke, returning to his chair, “do not cause me any more grief.” Frustration bubbled beneath your skin alongside an unhealthy dose of fear. Your lip curled as you left with a hardly concealed snarl in your father’s direction, storming out of his room only to run into a male body.

You reeled back in surprise, eyes narrowing as they met their mirror. “Evesdropping, twat bag?” Edvard gave you a guilty half-grin, “maybe.” Your lip curled at your brother, just a few inches above you now. “Did you know about it?” The smile dropped as he shook his head, his dark brown hair shifting tones in the limited light of your house, “dad told me that I should be up early and ready for tomorrow morning, but didn’t say what for.”

Both your eyes flickered to his office door, voices dropping below whispers, “so why are you here then? Surely not come all this way to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong?” He held up his hands innocently, “why do you think so little of me, dear sister,” he mocked. “I think so little of you, because you’re my twin, beloved brother,” you snapped back. A grin tipped the corners of his mouth, spark in his eyes, “you mean because you would do the exact same thing I’ve just done?”

There was a pause.

“Cunt,” you muttered under your breath, looking away.

Ed lowered his hands from where he’d be holding them in surrender, “come on, let’s go back. Have some food,” he suggested, turning and flaring a wing to wrap behind you and pull you along, “I’m starving.”

“Pig.”

“Growing male, actually.” He snapped back, shoving you forward before tucking his wing behind him. You rolled your eyes, descending the staircase with him padding quietly at your feet. “What we thinking tonight?” You jumped the last three steps, Ed hesitating two behind you before leaping to the floor.

“Soup?” He suggested, brows raised in question. You scrunched your nose. “Takes a while. Not sure if we have any onions in.” Ed scrunched his own nose, “I hate onions.” Both of you continued down the hallway, “probably good for you, then.” Ed raised a brow. “Because you hate them. Must mean they’re healthy.” His lip curled, “curse you, nature.” You stifled a laugh that came out as a snort. “Pig,” he muttered. “Dick,” you spat in return.

You reached for the front door handle, about to leave when it twisted on its own. You frowned before leaping backwards, dodging a smack to the forehead, stumbling backward into Ed who released a surprised yelp. The door swung open, a tall, well-built male striding through, casting a single glance over the two of you, affording a short nod of acknowledgement to your twin who straightened behind you.

“Dickhead,” you mumbled under your breath, the male continuing on his path down the hallway, catching the door and stomping out. You turned when Ed didn’t follow you out, turning in the entrance. He was staring after the male, watching as he disappeared down the corridor. “Ed,” you hissed, swatting him on the arm. He blinked, turning his head to you, a brow risen in confusion. You bulged your eyes in reply, hitching up your eyes brows. His own brow furrowed. “Stop eye-fucking the General,” you hissed. Edvard narrowed his eyes at you, scowling, “I wasn’t eye-fucking anyone,” he snapped, storming out of the doorway, you scowling right behind him.

He was striding intentionally faster, forcing you to speed up. “Slow down,” you snapped, managing to keep in pace with him, “what’s got your panties in a twist?” He refused to deign you with an answer, moving faster than before. You stopped, fists curling by your sides as your breath came out in fogged puffs, “Edvard!” He didn’t stop or slow down. Smoke practically poured from between your gritted teeth as you broke into a run, sprinting at him as your arms encased his lower waist, slamming into him at full speed, both of you collapsing to the ground.

Edvard snarled as he went down, both of you scrambling from the ground. You pulled yourself up over him as he turned onto his back with difficultly, his hands shoving at your shoulders as you were flung backwards, his legs tucking up beneath you then slamming into your hip bones, making sure to avoid your stomach. You were launched backward in the snow, stumbling and tripping over yourself until you smacked against the ground, landing on your wings with a pained hiss.

White spots tipped your vision as you pushed up onto your elbows too quickly, attempting to relive the pressure on your wings. When everything came back into focus, Edvard was stood over you, arms crossed, scowling. You snarled at him, hurrying to your feet, wobbling a little as dizziness momentarily swayed you, “what’s your problem?”

“No, what’s your problem?” He snapped, wings flaring behind him. Your brow narrowed at him. He huffed a curt sigh, “I’m not arguing with you here.” He turned on his foot, aiming for your house. “Fine,” you snapped, storming after him, making sure to shove into him as you passed, a snarl following shortly after.

————————

Weak sunlight filtered through your window, making you squeeze your eyes closed. Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the large bed, “Ed,” you mumbled drowsily, “wake up.” A low groan came from behind you and you felt it as he turned onto his side, pulling a pillow over his face. You leaned back, snatching the pillow away, “come on.”

Reluctantly, you made your way down stairs, having grabbed a warm robe to wrap yourself in as you turned to the fireplace. The fire was promptly lit, pouring the last of the water into the kettle before placing in on the flat surface above the roaring fire. From above came the heavy steps of your brother fetching the wooden pole he would string over his shoulders to carry the morning’s water inside.

Around two and a half hours later - according to the sundial in the centre of the settlement - you and your twin were both washed, dressed and fed. Anxious taps reverberated from beneath the table where your heel was repeatedly patting the floorboards. “This is the worst,” you groaned, slumping forward, forehead pressing into the table too. Ed yawned loudly, propping his cheek on his hand as he tried to keep his eyes open. “How much longer?”

“That’s the seventh time you’ve asked me since we finished the washing up,” he grumbled, dutifully raising from his sitting position to peer out the window, checking the sundial, “‘nother ten minutes?” You sighed heavily, groaning into the wood.

Edvard returned to the table, slumping back into the hard chair, “did dad tell you where this was going to happen?” You nodded into the table warily, pushing upright, “said it’d be in the forest. Think even he knew’t’d look bad. ��Specially in a camp our size,” you sighed, yawning. Ed frowned, “that just makes it look worse,” he observed. You nodded, “go tell him yourself, we both know he won’t listen to me.”

Your twin blinked slowly, “you supposed to meet him in the forest? Like, am I s’pposed to walk you?” Your brow narrowed, nose wrinkling. “He’d’ve said that, right?” Ed furrowed his own brow, “probably?” He sounded unsure.

You sighed again, slamming your hands against the table top, making him jump. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.” Ed raised a single dark brow, “cards?” You shook your head, “pick-up-sticks?” He shook his head. “Stone-parchment-blade?” You suggested.

“As a game to decide, or, like, a game by itself?” Your brow furrowed, “was going to say a game by itself, but to decide, instead.” He nodded.

The two of you held out your palms, counting to three and chanting before settling on a move. Ed had his palm curled into a fist: stone. You had your three middle-most fingers stuck out, thumb holding down your pinky: blade. Your twin slumped onto the table, groaning, “why are you grumbling, you won?”

“Are you going to get the cards?”

“No,” you grinned.

“Yeah.” He nodded, “thought not.”

Halfway through the third round, a series of knocks were landed on the door. You made eye contact over your cards, Ed raising a brow, “you gonna get that?”

“You get it,” you hissed.

“What? Why should I get it?” He snapped.

“You’re the male!”

“That’s an unhealthy stereotype.”

“Big words,” you returned.

“I know what they mean, too,” he gloated.

“Very impressive,” you shot back, in a condescending tone, “but I don’t want to go in case you cheat.”

“Cheat? Me?” He looked offended, “I would never!”

You scoffed, “I would, so you would.”

“Why don’t both of us go?”

“Then it looks like we’re scared.”

“It’s almost as if we are,” Edvard snapped back.

“Why are you scared? I thought you loved bastards.”

His brow narrowed, “are you serious right now?”

You folded your arms across your chest indignantly.

Another series of knocks resounded through your home, a little louder than before. You both made eye contact, before quietly rushing out the kitchen door, stumbling over one another as you peered round the corner down the hallway leading to the front door. “I think it’s darker than normal,” you murmured, noting the dim light coming through the small, oval window placed in the upper centre of the wooden entryway. The two of you stood there a moment longer in silence, waiting.

“This is ridiculous,” you hissed. Your twin nodded in agreement.

Both of you remained where you were.

“Go on,” Edvard hissed, shoving you out into the hallway. As usual, he didn’t know his own strength, sending you careening into the wall, your arms coming up instinctively to block yourself. “Prick,” you hissed over your shoulder as you tried to find a confident stride. Then you were the other side of the door. A single slab of wood between you and the male on the outside. You refused to hesitate, hand wrapping around the handle and turning.

A cold gust of wind blew in, definitely a sign, making you grip the handle tighter. An outline of darkness silhouetted him against the bright outside; you clenched your jaw. Instinctively, your lip curled, brow narrowing as you took in his lean but powerful frame. As far as you could tell, he wasn’t carrying any weapons. As far as you could tell. So, that didn’t mean much. He was a weapon of himself.

“Y/N?” He asked, checking you were the right person despite obviously being certain. You raised your chin, looking down your nose at him. In a way. His eyes flicked upward over your shoulder. You refused to turn your eyes from the male for even a second. “Edvard, I take it?” Relief rinsed down your spine at your twin’s presence. “Yes sir,” Ed replied, not a stutter or tremble to be found; you could practically hear the uplifting grin in his words. “Cass tells me you’re making fine progress,” the male spoke. Cass? You didn’t fail to notice his attention skating over you in favour of your male sibling. Typical.

Beside you, Ed stood a little straighter. You could practically see his chest puffing out as pride shone in his eyes, “glad he thinks so.” Your eyes narrowed as you glared at him through your peripherals. Why was he acting so at ease now? This male was dangerous. Just because he, for some reason, believed the General to be trustworthy, did not exempt this one from your wariness.

Returning attention to the male, your gaze snagged on the darkness of his wings. Moving darkness. Your jaw tightened as you zoned back into the conversation. “Would you like some tea?” You nearly choked on your own saliva, forcing you to cough abruptly into your hand. “We’re out of tea,” you managed, silently cursing the unaware dick-face that was your twin. He opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off with a pointed glare. His mouth pressed into a thin line, brows narrowing slightly, but he didn’t say anything else about coming inside.

“How long is this going to take?” You spoke, narrowing your eyes on the male before you, folding your arms over your chest. At the side of your head, you could feel Ed’s piercing gaze attempting to put a hole in your skull. “That’s up to you,” he replied, matching your tone perfectly. Your lip twitched but Ed decided to step in, “where exactly are we going?” The male’s eyes flicked back to your twin’s, once again skating over you. He nodded his head in the direction of the forest, before turning and setting off.

The two of you followed him out of your house before Edvard paused abruptly. You stopped, turning to look at him. “Cards!”

“You brought them with you?” You asked incredulously, noting he still held his hand of seven. “Just making sure you didn’t switch any,” he shot back disbelievingly. His eyes flickered over your shoulder to the large brute, “tiebreaker,” he grinned as he offered an explanation, “mind if I pop back in?”

“You aren’t going to take your sister’s?”

Your back stiffened.

Edvard’s brow lifted in confusion, gaze switching to you curiously. The hairs on your neck rose, tension gathering at the tip of your spine. Your twin looked at you expectantly, head cocked.

“Up her right sleeve.”

Your lip curled. Ed watched as you removed the card, sticking it out for him to take, pointedly avoiding his eyes. A bark of laughter came from his mouth as he took the card, “caught red-handed,” he grinned. Your cheeks warmed. “Not so sly after all, huh, quicksilver?”

“Well of course a bastard is going to be more underhanded,” you snapped, not taking any care to monitor your volume. Ed’s eyes narrowed down at you in a scathing glare, “will you shut up about that? It’s embarrassing,” he hissed, keeping his voice low.

“I thought being a low-born was nothing to ashamed of?” You snapped back. “You’re the problem,” he seethed, turning on his heel and storming back into your house, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

You had half a mind to turn and berate the adulterated brute for stepping into business that wasn’t his. You gritted your teeth, digging the nails of your left hand into your upper right arm, folding yourself tighter.

A few minutes passed and Ed was still inside the house. A fogged huff of annoyance slipped past your lips, your skin beginning to pebble beneath your clothes. You shifted on your feet, refolding your arms tighter than before, ducking your fingers between your sides and arms. What was taking him so long? Shifting your weight onto your other foot, leaning excessively to one side.

“Edvard’s taking a while,” came a deep drawl from behind you, making your ears twitch, lip curling at hearing his name from the brute’s mouth. You cast a glance over your shoulder - he was still in the same place - to check the sundial. “Why don’t you go check on him, then?” You gritted through your teeth. His eyes flicked down to yours, cold; observing. “Go on,” you kept your scowl up as you jerked your head in the houses direction before turning away from him again. You waited silently to see what he’d do. A few moments later, he passed you on silent feet, your muscles tensing as he moved toward the door, knocking before entering.

A puff of smog blew from your mouth as you exhaled, eyes flitting to the skies, keeping a keen eye out. Your lips tipped as you spotted a familiar figure coming in to land. The Lord landed smoothly, eyes instantly marking your presence as you approached, brow furrowed in displeasure, “why are you still here?”

“Waiting for the dog to come out. He went in to fetch Ed,” you supplied, tucking your wings in tighter and slightly hunching your shoulders. His gaze flicked to your house, lips tilting downward, just as the two emerged from the door.

Anticipation curled in your stomach as your father strode toward the two figures, following behind him quietly. “What’s the meaning of this?” He spoke, directing the question at your twin. Ed’s spine straightened, hands tightening behind his back, “kettle boiled over,” he answered, “he was helping clear the fire top.”

Your father’s resentful gaze fell on you. “You left the kettle on the fire?” He spoke, accusation underlying his words. You blinked, arms unfolding slightly before spinning an excuse, “it wouldn’t have boiled over if the fire had been put out. That’s more of a problem than forgetting a tiny scrap of metal.”

“You left the fire burning?” The question was directed at Ed but your father kept you beneath his irritated glare. “Yes, dad,” your twin admitted, knowing it was better for him to take the fall.

The menace in his gaze didn’t weaken, “neither of you eat tonight.” Your brow dipped at you straightened your spine, about to speak. “You’re sleeping downstairs,” he growled, piercing eyes flaring with barely dampened anger. “We wouldn’t have missed those things if his shadows hadn’t been playing at the windows,” you snapped the lie fluidly, jabbing a finger in the brute’s direction, hoping your father’s hatred for bastards would outweigh that he had for you. Ed glared at you from the other side of the war camp’s Lord.

“Another word from your mouth, girl, and you’ll be sleeping outside,” he snarled, lip curling in hardly restrained rage. This time Ed moved to speak, though you knew nothing good would come of it.

“It won’t happen again.” That was not Ed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on the tall male: curious, hateful, and reproachful. His shadows thinned to an almost imperceivable outline, a shallow veil of darkness to hide behind.

There was a tense pause, wondering if your father would settle for that or if he would insist of punishing one of you.

“See to it that it does not, Shadowsinger.” The word was practically spat.

Both you and your twin hardly breathed, too well acquainted with the repercussions of showing relief or anything but neutrality on your faces.

Edvard hastily shifted to the side as your father moved to return to the house. Neither of you showed any sign of reprieve until you’d both counted silently to fifty, long gone from your home, following quietly behind the male.

“Think we still won’t get food?” Ed broke the silence. You scowled at the Shadowsinger’s back, between his shoulder blades, “no matter how pissy he gets, I’ll be the one cooking. I think between us we can sneak some food out,” you threw a mischievous glance at your twin whose eyes were already sparking with matching devilry. “What do you have in mind?”

You thought for a moment, “I doubt he’ll know any better if a couple of potatoes worth of chips go missing…” you posed, the corners of your mouths hitching up. “Just make sure he doesn’t see how many were put in initially and we’ll be safe.” Ed nodded eagerly, then paused, “maybe some meat too, just to be sure?”

“For us, or father?”

“Dad, as distraction?”

Your lips twisted downward at the edges, “I’m not sure if my pride can take sucking up to that piece of sh—”

“Do you have to swear so much?” Ed cut you off, a single brow risen, his lip curled slightly. You shrugged, “he is what he is.”

“I get that, but…I don’t know…it’s just…a little much?” He winced as he spoke. “So what…just call him ‘father’ when he’s being a dic—” Ed glared. “—ta…tor? A dictator.” Your twin nodded, returning his gaze ahead of him, “dictator will do.”

“Anything else you want to scold me about?” You scowled playfully, folding your arms over your chest, skin beginning to pebble again. His eyes flitted to you before dashing away again. You sighed, “just tell me.” His eyes flicked forward, toward the male, then back again. Pointed. You rose a brow in challenge.

“At the very least, do you have to be so obvious about it?” Edvard sighed, continuing forward. “I’m not going to be one of those people who only talks shit behind someone’s back,” you snapped, “that’s cowardly.”

“But the things you’re saying? Unnecessary. And hurtful,” he argued. “I mean, how would you feel if people were saying those things at me?”

“First of all, if they were saying it about you, they’d be saying it about me, too. Secondly, one, if not both, of us would be dead. And third, that,” you hissed, gesturing to the shadowed male, “is a fully fledged warrior, I really doubt some name-calling is going to get under his skin.”

“If you can acknowledge he’s a warrior, can’t you see the sense in not pissing him off?” Ed hissed back.

You rolled your eyes, “what’s he going to do?” As soon as the words had left your mouth, both your eyes flicked to the Shadowsinger’s back. You reconsidered. “It wouldn’t work in his favour.” Ed gave you a look, a single eyebrow raised. Your jaw drops, “I’m not that bad,” you snapped. He continued giving you the look.

“Fuck you!”

[cookinguptales]

Nadja is out here like "haha, they think my husband is this mythical perverted oaf who gets reincarnated constantly and brings good luck" but I posit that Laszlo is the King of Pigs.

We know that the two of them have been back to Antipaxos together (most likely more than once) and we know that Laszlo has been around for centuries and constantly changes his look. We know that he is a perverted oaf, but one that means very well and usually manages to turn things around in his favor. He's practically a fokloric trickster figure, if we're all being real with each other.

So why can't he actually be one? My theory is that Laszlo's periodic appearances in Greece/Antipaxos led to these stories being told in the first place. He is a trickster figure with magical powers. He is a trickster figure that exists outside of social norms. He is a trickster figure whose horniness, selfishness, and stupidity get him into trouble but whose wiles get him back out of it.

And all the stories are true! He really does bring good luck to those around him because he usually does help try to help humans in the end. (Go Bucks!)

Gosh. They're out here telling Jack tales about Laszlo and I love that for him. Stories never die and neither does he. He's here to suck blood and fuck forever, and humans will always tell stories of the luck he brings. :')

[unknown-writez]

Misfit Toys

Chapter Six: Aftermath- Part One

he reached into his pocket taking out a knife. Twirling it in his hand for a second he then forcefully shoved it into the woman’s abdomen wiggling it a little just for fun before he then pulled it out the blood from her wound now staining her white button up as she groaned in pain saying “Y/N…you really..think..he can…protect you?” “It’s Minx!” Jerome shouted before swiftly kicking her chair off the desk and onto the floor. The wood hitting the ground with a great crash as he tossed her away to die slowly. Turning to me he smiled widely jokingly asking “Is it bad?” making me scoff saying “Nothing we can’t handle.” “Why don’t you do a little decorating while I deal with business.” he said, dropping off the desk. Grabbing a duffle bag near us he reached into it then he threw me some cans of spray paint. I nodded with a smile, taking the paint and going to the different walls. I covered the gcpd with little doodles words and whatever came to mind. Stars, hearts, smiling faces, ect. covered everything along with words like haha, liars and pigs. As I was graffitiing the palace I saw jerome pick up the camera that greenwood dropped on the floor and he started ranting to it. Sending his silly lessons and messages to its viewers as the others shot the people left still alive cleaning house. Guess they didn’t want survivors. Everyone stopped though when we heard distant sirens. “Time to go!” Jerome yelled out to everyone as he put down the camera and rushed over to me grabbing my hand and we both ran out the building and down the street into the same suv from before that came back to pick us up. Out of breath and my heart pounding in my chest I gave out a loud laugh. “Glad you had fun, doll.” Jerome said catching his breath still covered in blood and in his fake uniform “I liked your handy work back there. You’re a true artist.” he joked, making me smile. I knew that I should have probably been sad or traumatized but I didn’t. Maybe it was just the adrenaline but I felt alive. I felt electricity flowing through my veins and it was all thanks to Jerome. “Thank you.” I said putting my legs over his lap. “I’ll take care of your nose when we get back” I finished “Wow. An artist and a nurse. I must have hit the jackpot.” J retorted back laughing while I hit his shoulder. Afterwards both of us relaxed for the rest of the ride just being happy and comfortable sitting with each other. 

[adrianasunderworld]

The Chronicles of Isabelle attempting to do Witchcraft and Demon magic on memory and guess work alone

*frantic running up the stairs and slamming it shut*

Crowley: What has gotten into you?

Isabelle: Nothing. Nothing at all.

Crowley: Why did you run out of the basement then?

*unholy screeches of something down there*

Isabelle: Um...I got a new pet?

Vil: You know, in all the weeks we've been here for training camp, I haven't seen you do much for skincare, and not a single zit. What's your routine?

Isabelle: Nothing special. Just some generic makeup wipes, moisturizer, black magic.

Vil: Haha, very funny.

Isabelle: I wasn't joking. I know a potion for breakouts.

Vil: ....so what's the recipe?

Ace: Hey, you're back from town.

Isabelle: Yep. Had to pick up some stuff.

Deuce: *picks up a jar* What's this?

Isabelle: Pigs blood.

Ace and Deuce: 😱😱

Isabelle: What? I needed it for a potion.

Ace: Where do you even get that!?

Isabelle: Butcher in town. I tutor his daughter in English, I get discounts. It's worked out great for me so far. I also got bacon, hungry?

Isabelle: Hypothetically speaking. Say someone was conjuring in the woods on a full moon and a shadow creature followed them home. How would one exercise it?

Sam: Are you sure this is hypothetical?

Isabelle with a gangly shadow moving on its own behind her: Yes.

Epel: So what did Sam say?

Isabelle: Hes looking into it. But until then, I figured out the shadow creature likes French fries and watching Strawberry Shortcake.

Jack: How did you even figure that out?

Isabelle: It stole my fries in the cafeteria and was watching TV and it seemed interested in cartoons and I kind figured it out from there.

*unholy screeches*

Jack: That thing is still in the basement?!

Isabelle: Her name is Lemon, and she's hungry ok?

Epel: I'm afraid to ask what Lemon eats.

Isabelle: Cat food mostly. But she does also like candy.

Crowley over the loud speaker: - and this Friday will be Casual Dress Day. So uniforms are not required. And lastly, whoever keeps leaving strange ritual circles and infernal symbols out in the woods, stop it.

Everyone in class: *looks at one person*

Isabelle: *slowly sinking into her chair*

@mangacupcake @marrondrawsalot @writing-heiress @the-weirdos-mind

[selineram3421]

🎵🎶*and again*

You're Off-key

Part 4

Part 3

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warning ⚠

⚠ everyone is aged up, nap interrupted, dream realm, toxic old man yaoi mention, mention of demons and ghosts, Ford being weird again, food mention-eggs, cussing, Italics= thoughts ⚠

You opened your eyes to a view of a familiar place.

It's a place you'd always go to when you had the chance to see a nice view of the sunset. Which was at a park, and your favorite spot was on top of the slide. The funny part was that the sunset was facing away from the slide, so you were sitting backwards.

"Not too shabby kid."

"AH!", you screeched and slid down the slide, slowly coming to a stop at the bottom with an upset face. "I didn't want to slide down yet."

"Haha!"

Looking back towards the planets, your neck at the edge of the slide making your head hang, and you see a very bright and shiny floating cool ranch dorito. Maybe you were just hungry for chips now.

"Whoa, I know I look like a snack but keep your thoughts under control.", Bill says with a back off motion.

"Oh, ew.", you cringe. "You're not my type at all."

Sitting upright and facing the right direction, you noticed that everything was different from the Dreamscaperers episode. Probably because it was Stan's mind and you are more into weird art. Explains the melting park clocks and the sky being all space like.

"Oh yeah, your type is more-"

"Nope, shutting you up now! What do you want?", you say quickly and cross your arms.

"Just here to see how you're enjoying Gravity Falls! How's Sixer doing? Still doesn't understand social norms? Haha!"

"Still into the nerdy old guy?", you smirk. "Also, knock next time you try to get in here. I'm not Ford, so you can't just do anything you want."

"I somewhat regret putting those pages in the book.", Bill says and then shrugs. "Whatever kid, I'm practically a ruler of dreams."

"Nope.", you stand up and pop the P. "You're in my head and I am the master of the dreaming realm.", you point your thumb at yourself. "You know how many ghosts and demons try to crack this baby? It's impenetrable."

"Look kid."

"I'm old enough to drive an actual car.", you counter.

"And I'm older than you.", Bill snaps his cane into existence and twirls it. "Never mind that, I really want to know how the Pines family is doing. Can't exactly find out unless I have you! So, let's make a deal here.", the triangle holds his hand out. "Let me have access to your mind and I'll let you stay in this little town for longer, what do you say?"

"Pfft-", you start laughing. "You think-hahahaha! You think I'm gonna make a deal with you for something as dumb as that? Hahahaha!"

"Well, when you say it like that-"

"I didn't even put my thumb on that bloody thumbprint in the book! What makes you think I'm gonna fall for more of your tricks after the spaghetti? Hahahahaha!", you continue laughing.

"STOP LAUGHING!", Bill starts turning red.

"Aw, sorry Billy-oop.", you immediately stop. "That slipped out and I apologize."

The way Bill started at you was creepy, he was zoned out and slowly transforming into something terrifying. His limbs growing longer and a mouth with sharp teeth forming.

"Time to wake up."

Bill charged at you.

"NOW!"

⯅

"No more triangle chips!", you shout as you wake up.

Something is weighing on your head and you find the headset on you again. The wires were longer than before and led out of the room, downstairs.

"Seriously?", you sigh and take it off. "Ford! I said wait till I'm conscious!"

You get up and head to the bathroom to clean yourself up, washing off all the blood and putting new bandages. After getting dressed with the clothes Mabel left, you open the bathroom door to find Waddles the pig sitting outside, holding a little note.

"Oh hey oinkers.", you greet and take the note to read. "Breakfast is ready downstairs. Hope you like eggs."

It takes you a second.

"Wait, what? Breakfast? How long was I asleep?", you asked no one. "Was I out all day? What kind of bullshit?", you huff. "Damn nacho chip. Not cool."

You make your way downstairs and hear talking coming from the living room. Leaning against the wall, you listen in on the conversation.

"I can't understand these readings! It's all static and weird noises. None of it makes sense!", Ford says and you hear paper shuffling around.

"Grunkle Ford, I think you're going too far with this.", you hear from the living room, Dipper. "They are a normal person. Mabel did her whole question thing! You know that thing is unbelievably long!"

"What? Like her strange dating quiz? They finished the whole thing?", the old man asked.

"It was only two hundred questions this time.", the younger twin reassured.

Ford is trying to read my mind! I fucking called it! You pointed up at the air and then silently sighed. Time to face the music.

Taking a step into the living room, you point at the nerds with a serious face.

"You!"

"AH!", Dipper screeched and hid some papers behind his back. "Hey! We were just uh-"

"I was going over some math problems with my nephew to win a board game.", Ford says quickly.

"Baloney! I woke up to the helmet thing on my head again!", you crossed your arms. "If you really wanted to get into my head, then ask me questions! I'm only bound to lie twenty percent of the time!"

"That's a really low lie rate.", Dipper whispers.

The older twin sighs and rubs between his brows. "Fine, I confess. I've been trying to read your mind with the headset but all I've been getting is static noise."

"Why though? You said it yourself, I'm not much of a threat with my concussion.", you ask. "Unless there's something you think I'm hiding?"

I mean, understandable but jeez. Ask me like a person.

"I...apologize.", Ford says as he avoids eye contact and adjusts his glasses. "I'm still getting used to being around people and being out at sea with just my brother isn't really enough social interaction.", he turned away from you.

"But why try to read my mind? What could possibly lead you to do something like that?", you ask.

Ford's eyes were hidden by the glint of the light coming from the television. He was eerily stiff as he faced you completely. Then he pointed behind you like someone was standing there.

"Bill's shadow follows you."

You felt a chill go through the room.

"Who..", you gulped and hugged yourself as you panicked on the inside. "Who is Bill?"

Hehehehehehe...

~Seline, the person.

Part 5

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[yandere-sins]

Madness

a/n: I saw a dialogue prompt somewhere and this idea came to mind. Please head the warnings.

Characters: Yandere!Dottore x GN!Reader Fandom: Genshin Impact Warnings: Yandere, Extreme Violence (Reader violently killing someone, Reader cutting open someone’s stomach, Majorly implied amputation of reader’s limbs), Desperation, Mentally broken reader, Mention of drugs/medication/syringes/scalpels/blood/vomit(ting)/disfiguration/experimentation, Reader is a human guinea pig

"Ha... haha..."

Finally, you thought. It's quiet. So fucking quiet.

Nothing, not even your laugh or the clattering of the scalpel as it slipped from your hand, falling on the floor, could break the silence around you. It was over. You had no sense of time, no calendar to keep track of the days, weeks, months you must have been locked up for. But it was finally over, the blood on your hand a small price for ending all this madness.

You should have never trusted the Fatui. Their compassionate speeches and warm invitations. They swore to help you out of the poverty you lived in. They promised they'd give you a roof over your head and a warm meal a day if you joined them, but it never turned out like the glorious future they described to your vulnerable self. It had been too damn long, but you'd never forget your first meeting with The Doctor. You'd never forget that shark-toothed smile as he introduced himself with a handshake. Never forget the first time he tied you to a chair and told you it would 'only be a small sting'.

Days after days, he tortured you. One incision cutting out some of your skin here, a syringe with weird substances injected there. Him telling you to toughen up, and subtle threats made behind medical jargon. "You could lose your eye if you moved," and, "Be careful, or I might accidentally cut into the vein. You don't want to bleed out here, right?"

But what felt almost worse were his hands on your body. Gloved, not gloved, always searching and never resting. He treated you like a sculpture he was forming, placing you into positions he liked. Below him. At his feet. Forcing you to look up at him through dazes and nausea. Only then would he be careful with you, brushing sweaty hair from your face, offering to take you to a bath if you behaved in the next experiment. Telling you he never saw something as lovely as your cut-up and delirious self. That you were the best he ever had under his scalpel.

The sentences haunted you even in your dreams. If you could sleep, that is. Most nights, you laid awake, trembling from the drugs, throwing up from your memories, or tearing your hair out in agony after getting your medicine. You never signed up to be a guinea pig for this madman, but you were told someone had to do it. At first, you relented, seeing the much younger candidates they brought into the room instead of you, but eventually, you didn't care anymore. And Dottore ceased asking. He broke you; every day a little more. Never caring for your feelings, no matter how pitifully you begged and pleaded with him to let you go.

But now it was all over.

It took you long enough. Too long. You barely remained human at this point. Perhaps this outburst and attack on the person that did this to you was the most human about you now. The constant, nagging voice in your head was gone. It no longer blamed you for your naivety. Didn't scold you for crying or hurting yourself. Everything was quiet. Peaceful.

Ironic, you thought, looking down at the corpse at your feet. You stabbed him so many times, if not for the clothes—now died red—no one would have recognized him anymore. It only took one death for everything to be set on the right path again. You thought that killing would be harder than it ended up being, feeling like you now understood why it was so easy for Dottore to experiment on you. It got easier after the first time, the first stab. Then, only rage guided what followed, and soon, it was almost second nature.

Stepping back, you avoided glancing at the reflective surfaces. Not wanting to see the kind of monster you had become after all that happened. You'd never be welcome in your community again, though, if you were honest, you hadn't been before, either. Still, with looks this frightful, you'd have to hide somewhere far away for the rest of your life.

If you made it that far.

Surely the Fatui would not be pleased after what you did to their Harbinger. Life on the run wouldn't be very rewarding, but it would be better than what you went through here. Anything would be better—even death.

You didn't bother cleaning up the blood from your hands, clothes, or face. What good would it do? All you wanted was to leave. Leave this place and memories behind, and disappear forever from anyone's sight. You'd figure things out once you were outside. Once you were finally safe again. It couldn't get worse than what happened behind closed doors in this room. It just couldn't.

Except... it could.

Twisting the doorknob, you pulled. Again and again, you twisted, pulled, then tried to push, then banged against it. Even with all your weight thrown into it and used to remove the door from its frame, you made no progress. There were no windows. You only had this door from which the doctor used to enter and exit. In the beginning, you had been somewhere else, and then, someday, you woke up in this room, not remembering how you got here. You knew this must be your way out, so why wasn't it budging?

Staggering back, you looked at the corpse on the ground. The man you murdered. The very same man you hated with every fiber of your being. Turning over the corpse wasn't as hard as one might assume. Sticking your hands into places you never wanted to feel made you shake with disgust, but you pushed through it, goal in mind. There must have been something. A key, a code, anything. He must have locked the door somehow, and you needed it open before you began to choke on the dread of being locked in.

Nothing.

You turned every pocket inside out, ripped the clothes from his body, and put your hands where they didn't belong. Nothing. With your breathing heavy, you looked at the scalpel on the floor, a last, desperate thought crossing your mind. The idea that popped into your head seemed crazy. Why would he swallow a key he needed to get out? Who'd do something mad like this?

A mad doctor would. Dottore would.

It cost you less effort than you thought to cut open his stomach, find the organ you were looking for, and cut that open as well. Tears and blood went everywhere around you, with no way to discern the fluids leaking everywhere, but no metal dropped out of the mess you made. Frustrated, you threw the scalpel away. This time you couldn't help but wash, letting the icy-cold water run over your skin as you scrubbed off the remains of him until you barely felt your hands anymore.

When you were done with that, you moved on to your face.

It was hard to keep a clear head in situations like this, but as anyone would do, you tried to open the door again. Tears dropped from your eyes incessantly, and you pleaded with the exit to open, begging unknown powers behind its lock to let you out. Euphoria made way for cold, hard reality. You must have cried for hours, wailed, and screamed and shouted until no sound came out. Fear turned to anger, the height of hope into bottomless desperation. Realizing that you were locked in with the corpse of the seemingly only person who knew how to get out was terrifying. No amount of hugging or trying to soothe yourself with positive thoughts could banish the fear.

The loneliness.

You fell asleep a couple of times, only waking up to hunger pangs and thirst, but all you did was cry yourself back to sleep, knowing it was hopeless. After waking up for the third time, you forced yourself to the sink, drinking some water before throwing it up again, unable to keep the sickening cold down. It was cold on the floor, so you moved to the small bed you had been provided with, wrapping yourself in blankets. It was warm, but it did nothing to comfort you. The sleep cycle continued.

Without anyone there to tell you a new day had begun and it was time for a new experiment, you lost your sense of time completely. It could have been days. Or hours. All of this could have happened in the mere timespan of half a day. Who knew? Not you. The only things you knew now for sure were: the Fatui were bad people, you survived far longer than you probably should have, and you'd ultimately die here. Locked away and alone with the corpse of your abuser, having brought on your own demise.

Knowing that, you closed your eyes, hoping it would be over soon.

Only to awake to the soft humming of a person next to you, your body wrapped in tender warmth and feeling less sick and weak than you ever had before. You lived in the harsh coldness of Snezhnaya for years, and you never experienced such ease and peace on your worn-down body and mind. This must have been the afterlife. It was finally over.

"Hm? Look who decided to grace us with their presence again," a familiar voice teased. Someone picked up your hand, squeezing it between two warm palms, and you turned your head to the side to see who had woken you. Maybe it were the Archons. Perhaps you were in a better place now. A happier one.

But at the sight of the blueish strands of hair falling into a familiar face, red eyes drilling into you while a shark-toothed grin completed the look of your greatest nightmare, all you could do was roll over on your side, bile rising into your mouth before you toppled over, throwing up onto the bed and floor.

What a cruel fate, uniting you with your worst enemy, even in death. Dead he was. You made sure of it. There was no way that corpse with the cut-open stomach could come back to life. Absolutely no way. And yet, there he was, standing up and tsking at you before supporting your back as you kept throwing up the remnants of your own stomach.

"How silly you are. I'm hardly that ugly," Dottore sighed, a bitter jest in his voice.

"How...?" you gurgled, feeling like there was nothing left to throw up despite your body trying to desperately.

"Don't think I have forgotten what you did," he replied, rubbing your back attentively. "That wasn't very nice, you know?"

Still holding your hand with one of his, Dottore slowly helped you sink back on top of the pillow, your bed ruined with spew but seemingly not a concern for the doctor. He reached over to the nightstand to lift a cup of water to your lips, wetting them before pressing the container harder against them so you'd open up. It wasn't cold water, and it tasted bittersweet in your mouth, but you had no choice but to gulp it down, as the doctor insisted.

"However, for now, you should rest. I was so relieved I managed to get to you in time. I don't even want to imagine the trouble we would have to go through had I been too late."

"I wish you wouldn't have," you mumbled weakly. Slowly tears crept into your eyes as you stared defiantly at Dottore. His gaze was intense, but now that clarity forced its way back into your mind, all the hate and frustration you felt before stabbing him returned as well. It was almost as if nothing had changed. Almost as if you only fantasized about killing him and trying to escape. "I can imagine what it would be like losing you."

For a moment, Dottore was quiet. Then, a laugh broke from his lips. Hearty, amused, appalling. Reaching out, he touched your cheeks, wiping the tears from your eyes. No gloves separated you, the touch as intimate as it disgusted you. He never was like this. He never cared about your tears before. Dottore only ever focused on his selfish wants and not on yours. You must have shocked him real good for him to act so kindly. The thought crossed your mind.

"I'm glad neither of us needs to have these terrible thoughts then," he chuckled, turning around briefly. You heard the sound of metal as he arranged something on a table behind him, the sight covered by his body from your eyes. However, when he turned around, you caught a glimpse of the tools there, scalpels and saws.

"But I promise you," he spoke solemnly. "I won't let the same mistake happen again."

Gripping your arm, he pinned it down, your body not strong enough to move quickly as he pulled a firm leather strap across your body. When he tried to do the same with your legs, you tried kicking him to no avail, Dottore simply forcing your leg down after you missed.

"I underestimated your affinity for using your hands and legs, but they aren't necessary for what I have planned for you. And I don't make the same mistake twice."

Dottore turned around to the table, and you began to wiggle and squirm, trying to free yourself from the restraints before he came back. He knew what he was doing. One glance at the saw in his hand, and you wanted to throw up again, your mouth filling with bile.

"Feel free to scream. I will have no problem explaining the sounds to whoever can hear you. No one is going to come to rescue you. I won't let them. This is all for your sake. I don't even care you killed one of my clones. "

A mad grin played on his lips. Your eyes met, and you knew you'd never escape this. Never escape his madness. Not even when it ruined you entirely too.

It wouldn't need much to reach that point.

"You are my favorite little experiment, after all," he confessed, taking your hand in his and squeezing it tightly, almost reassuringly. The pressure rose as he pressed your hand to the bed, adjusting the saw just below your thumb, dangerously close to his own fingers.

And all you could do was scream as the pain united you.