#bite the hand that feeds / ic.

[dogeats]

@felixferitas sent : " you may not realise this, but i've been pretty damn patient with you already. " ( post felix meeting the quicks? )

which is worse: being caught in a lie, or the storm that follows? oliver thinks he had understood everything. he kept his cards close to his chest. he turned his phone off, ignored every call, every message, every voicemail— & all for nothing.

oliver's head spins. they've been sitting in felix's car, halfway down the street, in silence for the past ten minutes ( he's counted ) & nothing he thinks of saying seems right. not when felix is bristling with unspoken anger & betrayal.

you may not realise this, but i've been pretty damn patient with you already.

there it is again: that wave of nausea, crashing over him in an attempt to drown him completely. " felix— "

what is he supposed to say this time? the words get caught in his throat &, for the first time since this elaborate lie started, oliver doesn't have an answer, other than:

" 'm sorry. "

[dve-mllr]

Starter call for Vincent!

[chaosmultiverse]

☠️ for salil

Salil looked alarmed by the idea, his wing fluttering out and feathers spread making it look larger than it was.

"I- Why would I ever do that? I have sworn to do everything I can to protect monsters such as her, resorting to killing her would be a failure in every discipline and ideal I am meant to embody I..."

The smell of fish stew, and the feel of a gravel path and the sound of Miranda's... Intresting thoughts on his situation flashed in his mind. It wasn't just that it'd be a failure of some ideal, no... Like the other Mishra's he was very declawed towards hurting those he... Cared about.

"I mean if it were her or I guess the rest of monster kind I would... I don't know? I would use some painless poison, it'd..." the idea of Miranda dead at his hands had his face pale. "Be like..." Going to sleep.

"I... It would never come to that though, I... Miranda is not someone I would ever use my skills of a... Killer on."

He won't do it, to be simple and not dance around the issue as he was aloud, he did not have the will to kill Miranda, no matter the situation, really the only case where he'd do it would be to save Aaravi and it would tear him apart.

[gotaletter-archive]

Smash or Pass: me

Send Smash or Pass + a name and my muse will say if they would smash or pass on that person.

"..."

"... Smash." He says, chin tucked into his chest. Part of him hopes Wesker won't actually hear it.

[sharkfinx]

🔪 alright I'll bite

Send in  🔪 for me to use a HATE meter to check the incompatibility of our muses.

"Heh..... I would be disappointed if you at least didn't hated me a little bit, Itachi-san. How else we would be able to fight some day? I appreciated those feelings." Flick through tabs desperately. "However—"

"Neeee, that's quite the numbers Itaaaachiiii-san! I'm flattered. Kekekeke. Have some self control, will you?"

[murderreign]

“ stop punishing yourself. you wanna make up for what you’ve done? get off your ass and do something about it. ”

"Oh, that's so fucking easy for you to say, isn't it? Because you're so perfect!" Something in him snaps at the words, and not in the way he's used to. He doesn't get angry enough to yell, not very often at least, but these are not exactly precedented times.

"I just... I just kill the brain instead of controlling it like my fa-- like Bhaal wanted and then what? And then what happens? All I know how to do is kill." The Urge was gone, and all it left in it's place was confusion and emptiness. The actions and thoughts and desires he'd always thought were his own, now rang empty and hollow without Bhaals influence. He didn't know how to fill that, he didn't know what he wanted.

He certainly wasn't going to magically become some hero now that he'd rejected the lord of murder, but he wasn't going to needlessly slaughter millions either. For the very first time in his entire life, the decision was in his hands, and he didn't feel like he was equipped to make it.

"I don't know what else you expect me to do."

[spiteriisen]

tag drop ; ragna vinbrandr.

( i keep snapping at giants ; let my bark bolster my bite. ✧ ic. ) ragna vinbrandr. ( self-made from a dream & the weight of everything ; turn that shit up & watch me bear it. ✧ visage. ) ragna vinbrandr. ( point the finger ; they blame the poor while the rich get richer. ✧ isms. ) ragna vinbrandr. ( i was never a rich kid-- it was never easy ; ain't got shit but i got this far. ✧ aesthetic. ) ragna vinbrandr. ( don't you know the hand that feeds ; deserves to be bitten when it beats. ✧ lore. ) ragna vinbrandr.

( i can fix me ; gotta do everything by my fuckin self around here. ✧ crack. ) ragna vinbrandr. ( i bite the tongue behind my teeth ; it was never good enough for me. ✧ game shenanigans. ) ragna vinbrandr.

connections ;

( the opposite of war-- your defiant act of creation ; to me your strength is a fact already proven. ✧ ragna & ankita. ) passionfell. ( starting little fires to keep ourselves warm ; you & i deserve to see the sky-- not just the cold below. ✧ ragna & lilstele. ) deityleft. ( fallen holy man-- you've never met a motherfucker like me ; your sword won't cut me free. ✧ ragna & alwin. ) risingretribution.

[rotfallen]

lyric starter call. // @dreamtchamber

" if i told you what i was, would you turn your back on me ? " tuvia was turned away from hong lu, arms crossed across her chest. everyone always abandoned her when they found out she was a bloodfiend, and she imagined that he would be no different.

[dogeats]

@felixferitas liked for a one-liner.

" are y'sure this is a good idea? "

[dve-mllr]

La Gueule de Saturne. At first, Michael hadn't bothered to spare the building a glance as he made his way to and from work in the middle of the night and early morning. It seemed peaceful, yet very refined. Nothing to what he was used to.

But after the incident at the sister location to his father's restaurant chains, he began to grow more and more paranoid, burning every restaurant he believed to be related to his father and his plans. There was nothing in particular that drew his attention to La Gueule de Saturne, nothing other than the fact that it was near the sister location and that Michael was close to going mad with his own fears.

Breaking in through the back door was surprisingly easy, and he walked in calmly with two jerrycans of gasoline in his hands. It didn't seem like anyone was inside, so he made his way into the main kitchen, looking around. There didn't seem to be anything immediately wrong to him, so he walked into another room, shivering at the sudden cold. The freezer.

Michael turned away, walking into the main kitchen again, not caring how much noise he made since he thought he was alone. Where the hell were the bodies being kept? Where were the weapons? The animatronics?

Vincent was exhausted. it had been a long day, as well as Rody continuously bothering him, He had to keep punishing chefs when they messed up. He flopped on his bed, just completely exhausted and tired.

He jumped up from his small slumber when he heard noises in the kitchen. he looked terrified, slowly getting up and going to his own kitchen to grab a knife.

He walked down the stairs slowly, smiling when he saw his office door was still shut before slowly opening it. "Whoever is there, I recommend you leave. Now."

[chaosmultiverse]

The ground beneath her feet crunched slightly as she stepped out of the car, followed shortly by the slow crumble of her tail swishing over the exact same path. The serf who had opened the door for her had already stepped out of the way, holding it open for Salil to make his own way out, polite and refined and silent in the proper way of waitstaff.

The steps out sat low, easy for Miranda to move in and out of, and with the arrangement of the car that had chauffeured them both here, it was less like actually getting out of a car and more... simply getting off a couch and leaving a room. Low ceiling not abiding, the luxury of even a transitory vehicle spoke more to Miranda's wealth and the casual adjustments she needed for every single aspect of her life.

She stepped forward, stood aside, waiting for Salil to get out behind her. Here, the trees were thick, and they cast dappled shadows across the top of her head, a patchwork quilt of light that made the sudden appearance of her pink scales come as a shock against the dusty, dark red that the leaves' shadows left in their wake. It smelled earthy here, dark and damp in the pleasant way of underbrush and of topsoil, and there was the sound of wings somewhere in the trees around them, alongside the slow lapping of a wide river, space and an absence of stones within its bed calming its currents into something almost trustworthy.

"This is the place," she spoke, squinting her eyes, peering down the path. It was gravel, admittedly, which was not her first choice, but it fit the rest of the scene, and Miranda had not wanted to pause any longer to put down anything else.

Before them, trailing down and down and perched against the banks of the river like a treehouse without the trunk, was the house. One side was level with the ground, the front door backed by rocking chairs and by flower pots like guards, but the other side, although still the ground floor, was suspended on stilts over the river. The banks of the river had fallen away and dipped low, sitting it lower than the driveway and the land around it, and it was in this way that the house easily matched both, providing opposing entrances. There seemed to be some stairs or another, coming down and off the porch down to the river, and some boat with a pulley mechanism to lower it down into the water, but they were too far away still to tell any more.

It was tall though, clear even through the trees that shaded the entire area in dappled shadow. Two stories, probably, with the roofs tilted up into fairytale tents, their shingling a pleasant, happy red. There was at least one chimney, built out of misshapen river stones, stacked on top of each other and sealed, made to bend the smoke away from the rest of the house. There was also some sort of central dome, mismatched from the others, made out of glass and ironwork and sitting above the rest like a crown jewel, the only place caught by the direct light of the sun. The walls were wooden, in the quaint rustic sense, and all around the house wove little paths, flanked by flowers and paved out of nothing more than dirt and sand, and perhaps a few stepping stones, on the rare occasion.

One path tracked off, into the trees, where brightly painted wooden targets could just be seen, placed here and there with some wear. Other paths were woven into the banks of the river, not just on this side but the other as well, little deer paths where animals had wandered down to the water to drink. Another led to some hardly cordoned-off section, only delineated by stacks of logs in a zig-zagging sort of fence, where the ground had been tilled in even rows, like they were just waiting for the gardener to show up.

Miri stepped forward, following along the stepping-stone path up to the front door, covered by its own, much smaller porch. "I thought you might appreciate something near the water — it is hardly what I would call my own, but freshwater though it is, I thought you might enjoy having someplace private to cool off, in the warm summer evenings. And the butterfly house inside! I am quite happy with that one, and I thought you might enjoy it as well. There is the apothecary on the ground floor, next to a small armory, which has another door out to the shooting range."

Salil had been admittedly nervous about all of this for reasons ranging from this all being some weird trap by Aaravi to try and put him back on their mother's path to worrying that if anyone found out they would hurt him or Miranda, not that concisely he could name who would be doing the hurting. Either way he had been nervous.

But there was also excitement, because Miranda was very good at making a pleasant space around themselves, when he was spending time with her it didn't feel like the usual high stikes world he normally occupied, maybe... A space for him, by her, would carry this peace too.

"...Thank you again for this, I really don't know how I'll repay your kindness." The idealic woods scene reminded Salil of the woods he used to explore as a child, of streams he'd play in and birds he'd mimic.

As the pair reached the clearing where the house stood, warm and inviting Salil paused, stunned for a moment really looking at this.

He felt so overwhelmed, he was happy, he was striken by the grief of missing a place you had never been before, he missed his old house, he felt a guilt he didn't feel this happiness when he had been taken to his fathers.

A lot was hitting him at once and it left him frozen in awe at this, at having a home, at owing it to... A sister in law.

He bit his bottom lip, as he struggled to keep his tearducts closed, hold it in and be strong, it'd be... Wrong to distract from Miranda's kindness by crying like a baby.

He was still collecting himself, putting together what he was looking at when Miranda spoke.

"I- I really don't know what to say, I- You really put a lot of thought into this thank you." Salil'a voice was weaker and more gentle than Miranda had heard it before, he struggled to not tear up still.

[gotaletter-archive]

Name: Albert Wesker

Age: 48

Do you like to cuddle?:  No.

Can we make-out?:  …Yes.

A night in or dinner out?:  I suppose if you consider the pine needles you are bound to swallow as I’m hunting you down “dinner”...

Whip cream or chocolate syrup?:  That is how you get an infection.

Chocolates and roses?:  Which one do you want?

What makes you a good Valentine?:  I am a God. You would be insolent to refuse. 

Would you cook for me?:  No.

Would you let me cook for you?:  Can you do so without starting a fire?

Where would you take me on a date?:  ... What is your stance on inescapable forests?

Who’s paying?: Technically I am. 

What did you get me for Valentine’s Day?: The mortifying horror of being perceived. 

Valentine’s Day Application

The fact that this is the first application to get handed his way shocks him. To be honest, he wasn't expecting much of anything at all, and so see the name Albert Wesker filled in at the top is incredibly surreal. He looks at the paper, blinking at it and checking it over to actually see if it's real. Is this happening right now? Is he having a nightmare? What is happening.

"Uh." He says, rather eloquently, "... I mean... do I really have a choice? I-I don't think I do."

Congrats, @manufactoredxbyxdesign : Your application has been (reluctantly) accepted. For the record, James would prefer chocolates (Since he always brought Mary flowers).

[kitasuno]

to be loved is to be known | suna rintarou x reader

you're in love with suna. you think suna's in love with someone else. he's not.

slight angst, happy endings, and miscommunications atsumu is sexy reader is gn wc: 1481

It is dusk and warm and just barely humid when you realize you don’t know Suna Rintarou at all. 

You know that Suna likes chuupets and volleyball and his dingy digital camera with the cracked screen. His left eye twitches slightly when he lies, he always ties his right shoe before his left, and he keeps forgetting to buy pencil lead despite preferring mechanical pencils over traditional. He likes the rain. Can’t bite into ice cream. Wool scarves over fleece, seven followers on his private Twitter, and is always late because he likes feeding the stray cats in the alley next to the Family Mart with the good sausages. 

What you didn’t know is that Suna Rintarou is in love. You find out from Kita Shinsuke, who tells Aran after practice, a conversation not meant for your ears but gracing them nonetheless as you stand before the entrance to the gymnasium. You feel a dryness in your throat and a sting in your eyes as Kita shares that Suna is not only in love but had confessed to someone. Maybe it’s your divine punishment for eavesdropping. Maybe it’s rotten luck. Because, coincidentally, and horribly so, you’ve been in love with Suna Rintarou ever since you met him. 

So when Suna walks up from behind you, back from the vending machine, and asks you why you’re lingering outside and staring at Kita with that look on your face, you lie. 

“I have a crush on Shinsuke.” You blurt out. 

He blinks. Once. Twice. And stares. 

The longer Suna stares at you under the grey, purplish-pinkish sky with his hands shoved into his pockets and his left eye twitching, you realize you don’t know him at all. Because Suna, in all his indifference and nonchalance, looks hurt. You see something flit beneath his eyes, but you’ve never been good at reading people. So you settle on the idea that it’s something less than betrayal but more than indifference, and you don’t know why your heart’s beating so fast and sinking, pitter pattering and twisting in your stomach. 

You feel sick. 

“You like Kita-san,” He says, and it comes out as a statement, not a question. He blinks a third time, and as the look in his eyes disappears as quickly as it came, you decide you much prefer the hurt or the discomfort or the something over the blank apathy that he’s looking you over with now. “You have a crush on Kita… Shinsuke.” He finishes, and you can’t hear the bitterness in his voice over the shrill of your heart. 

You’ve always liked Suna’s eyes but tonight you like the pavement more, and as you stare a hole into the concrete beneath you, you ignore how your feet are fidgeting and your palms are sweaty and how Rintarou is hovering over you. 

“Mhm,” You squeak, tearing your eyes from the asphalt with the cracks and an ugly pill-bug on the ground. As you look up to grey eyes and dark hair, you wish that loving Suna Rintarou was harder. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going to tell Shinsuke tomorrow.” You say, Shinsuke’s name foreign on your tongue compared to the warmth and honey that Rintarou’s tastes like. I’m in love with you and this is a bad idea, you think. I like you, not Kita, is what you don’t say. Instead, and arguably worse, is the mention of Miya Atsumu’s name. “Atsumu gave me the confidence to confess!” 

Suna pauses. 

“Atsumu told you to?” He asks, and it’s the most bewildered you’ve heard him in a while.

A glance at his phone. Hands that emerge from his pockets. If you weren’t so preoccupied with the concrete you would have seen the twitch of his fingers and the tightening of his jaw as he opens Line. You nod dimly. 

“Okay,” is what he says, and you feel your heart in your stomach again. You look up. “Okay.” He repeats again. 

And maybe it’s the hurt that stings in your chest from Rintarou being so okay with you (hypothetically) being in love with Kita Shinsuke that pushes your eyes to water and your mouth to open. 

“Is that it?” You ask. 

A beat of silence. And then, a scoff. 

“Yeah. Congratulations,” Suna says. “Good luck.” 

As dusk turns to nightfall and what was a barely-humid night in July is now overwhelmingly warm and sickly and hot, Rintarou’s gaze is overbearing. And when your eyes start to swim and Suna’s gaze turns to confusion and then realization, you do the only thing you know how to do. You bolt. 

An incessant string of dings. Your lip wobbles under your teeth as you pull out your phone from under your covers. 

from: miya osamu (21:03)  where the fuck did ya go  and whys suna blwoin up my phone

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:03)  WHYYSS SUNARIN BLOWING UOA PP MY PHONE ??!?@@>>!?>??!??! WHYS HE SAYIN U LIKE KITA-SAN

from: you (21:05) its so over i ran home

from: you (21:05)  i told him i like shinsuke and that i am confessing to kita  tomorrow

amazing perfect miya atsexy and miya osamu are typing…

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:06)  WHAT

from: miya osamu (21:06) r u fuckin stupid why would ya do that

from: you (21:07) i heard shinsuke tell aran that suna confessed to someone today and then rin came back so i told him i like kita bcuz i panicked and also he cant know i like him right as he’s ginna get BAGGED wait but idk if he got rejected or not WHO AM I KIDDING suna would NOT get rejected LOLOL but anyways i think he knows i like him bcuz i started cryig and then he had this look on his face like he knew i was bullshittin him now venmo me money before i kil msyelf 

from: miya osamu (21:12) yeah he was gonna confess to YOU today

from: you (21:12) ?

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:12) HOLY MISCOMMUNICATION

from: you (21:18) Wht??

from: miya osamu (21:19) suna was supposed to confess to u today 

from: you (21:21) but shinsuke said rin already confessed

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) why wiud u ever think about takin gossip from KITA SHINSUKE AN WHYD YA BRING ME UP IM GNNA BE STONED AT DAWN

from: miya osamu (21:22) HOORAY !

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (21:22) SHUDDUP  

You bolt, again, but this time it’s out of your bed, down a flight of stairs, and through your front door. You’re halfway down the street near the Family Mart with the Good Sausages™ when you barrell into someone who smells faintly of blackberries and Suna’s laundry detergent. 

“Excuse me,” You blurt, scrambling away, until you feel a grip on your waist and a familiar shape behind you with a familiar smell and a familiar voice, and Ohmygod, you’re out of breath and close to frantic but Suna Rintarou is holding you steady by your waist, warm and tall and here. 

“Rintar-”

“I like you.”

You feel it more than you hear it- Suna is muffled and quiet as he mumbles into the back of your shoulder, tall frame folded into you. 

“Idiot.” He adds, and you don’t have to turn to know the tips of his ears are pink and his eyebrows are furrowed. “You’re an idiot.” 

It’s twilight, and just-barely humid when you realize that Suna Rintarou knows you. 

Suna knows that you ramble when you’re nervous. He knows that you like the rain and you don’t like humidity. You carry extra lead in your pencil pouch and you like volleyball and stray cats. You can bite into your ice cream. You color coordinate your bookshelves. You don’t have a crush on Kita Shinsuke. 

You don’t know that Suna keeps his digital camera with the shitty cracks because you bought it for him from a shop in Akihabara. You don’t know that Suna leaves his packs of pencil lead at home because leaning over your desk in class and seeing that smile on your face is far more fun. You don’t know that he writes with extra pressure on his worksheets to crack his lead and ask for more. 

You didn’t know that Suna Rintarou is in love with you. 

So he grins into your shoulder and tells you.  

amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:14) 1 Attachment GROSS!!!!!! do NOT start making out at practice or i will RESIGN !!!

sunarin (22:14) @ y/n lets start making out at practice

y/n, miya osamu, and 2 others reacted with Thumbs Up! ojiro aran, amazing perfect miya atsexy reacted with Thumbs Down!

from: amazing perfect miya atsexy (22:15)  @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE @ KITA SHINSUKE 

sunarin has removed amazing perfect miya atsexy from the Inarizaki Volleyball Team Chat. 

[murderreign]

"Art thou enjoying thy new Clerical abilities? 't has been some time since I have named a living being one of mine own clergy."

"Tis a burden usually reserved for the undead, however, thou is more apt breathing than not. Methinks thou also prefers such an arrangement."

it's peepaw withers <3

"It's... interesting to say the least. Not entirely unlike what I had before, but different." Necromancy wasn't uncommon for him to dabble in before, but... it was more the hurty kind than the dealing with undeath kind.

"So... given that I'm your cleric now, what do you intend to have me do? I'm not much of the... scribe type." Reading was a bit difficult for him now, not that he couldn't do it, it was more of a newfound inability to focus long enough to do so. Curtesy of the scrambled holes in his head.

[murderreign]

He mentally cursed himself for letting himself get lost in the feeling and let him take so much that now he was being deprived of what he wanted for longer.

But fine. He'd rather not feel like lead during it either, he wants to touch. Fuck don't think about it right now, not when you can't.

It doesn't help his case, when he feels those cold lips against his skin again and reflexively tilts his head.

"Maybe... just a little." He mumbles. He could sleep a little bit, and hopefully feel a bit better when he woke up. He truly didn't have any intention of sleeping here at all when he'd agreed to follow him, because he didn't trust it enough but now? He didn't quite have the energy to think about that much.

MORTALS WERE PERPLEXING and a tribute to their own need for physical affection. It was an odd thing to see - even after being alive for so long, it still blew him away how some of them behaved.

"Impatient, are we not?" he chuckled softly, continuing to card his fingers through Serkan's hair as the man tried to collect himself.

"I shall be here when you wake, do not fret. You will get what was promised to you."

Though with anymore pushing and Vellioth was going to take him anyway, tired or not. The way the man fought to stay awake, fought to heal himself - just to lay with him. It was cute, endearing in a way that a small animal was.

But more than that, it made a different type of hunger grow and he could not resist the urge to press his cool lips to the crook of Serkan's neck, up to his jaw, barely brushing the skin with his touch.

[rotfallen]

"hey. gimme your arm." and before @soulsbetrayed can retaliate, tuvia's already grabbing him by the wrist. the bloodfiend sinks her teeth into her brother in blood with a snarl, sharp nails simultaneously digging into the flesh of julian's arm as she feeds.