#run whilst you can little lamb

[sweetm0uringlamb]

2 days till november 5th

[princessbrunette]

what would the readers be doing in the little commercial? 🥺

omg good idea !!!!!! ♡

bunny!reader would be running the show. she’s a beauty pageant girl at heart and she knows how to run the show. they’d get her to do the majority of the talking, flipping her hair and showing off her pearly whites. her beauty pageant side even comes out when directing the other pogues too. “smile john b! bigger! no not like that silly. that’s a grimace. you’re gonna scare your customers away!” “amazing job popey! did so good!” “jj do you need to use the bathroom? why are you so tense?” all whilst batting her lashes. to be honest, they only put her at the forefront of the operation because they knew a pretty girl in a tight top would draw in the most customers.

kitty!reader would be joining forces with kiara during her part of the commercial. they’d offer chakra readings, and kitty!readers speciality would be judging people based on their aura. but really the customer would walk up to her and she’d just go “ew! your aura reeks!” before they can get a word out. soon after she is ushered to do work at the back of the shop like bagging goods and sticking labels on things.

deer!reader is behind the camera doing all the directorial work. she always fancied herself a bit of a director / producer, but has always been too shy to do so, so it’s fun to explore that with a group of people she’s comfortable with. she is really patient when they mess up and the commercial ends up being way better than it was.

puppy!reader isn’t trusted with being in the commercial but she’s in the background of every shot— running around, swinging on the tire swing, knocking things off shelves. she’s an integral part of the commercial and she doesn’t even fully realise it.

lamb!reader sees them making the commercial and decides it’s nowhere near good enough. “this isnt going to bring in any customers. you need some help, and i don’t just mean from the lord.” she’s the one that gets them all the fancy gadgets like the drone, a better camera, she even rearranges and tidies their shop floor to make it more presentable.

mouse!reader is too shy to be in the commercial, but she wanders around keeping herself busy whilst they film it. in each shot they realise things go missing in the background, not realising she was walking around, browsing, and stuffing the things she wanted in her purse. she could have just asked for it, they probably would have given it to her ��� but she just loves to be a little thief.

[konigsblog]

König with a stripper 🤭

Especially nerd könig x stripper reader

cw; sexual harassment, loser-könig, alcohol consumption, slut shaming, afab!f!reader. mdni 18+

nerd-könig who's always been too afraid to make the first move, who's ashamed to admit that he perves and drools over women that don't even know his name. his corrupted mind is warped from watching porn to get off, daydreaming about a tight, little pussy around his lengthy cock, feeling so frustrated and pissed off when you begin to rub his hard bulge in the strip club. :(

sitting on his large lap, your high heels clicking the ground, running your hands down his broad, muscular shoulders whilst he slobbers all over himself drunkenly. having never been to a strip club, he's clearly had too much to drink and reeks of alcohol, with his large cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxers. i mean, you can't help but giggle at his greediness, how desperate he looks to lose his virginity, and with a girl like you...

your lingerie is revealing and barely covers your body, feeding into könig's delusions desires to rip your panties off and fuck you infront of everyone, asserting the dominance he craves. könig's large, calloused hands trail down your waist, admiring the skimpy lingerie, whilst you continuously rub his boner, kissing his forehead playfully, avoiding his lips.

although, when you attempt to leave to go back up and onto the stage, his grip is firm, not letting go. he's furious that you decided to taunt him, his frustration evident on his face as he furrows his eyebrows together, grunting and pushing you even closer. everyone's too busy and distracted to notice how könig's become increasingly more touchy, groping your ass and muttering obscenities to you.

“you’re a filthy whore... thinkin’- you can just get up, and leave me, ja?... yeah, of course, all you want is money, that’s why you’re showing off your body to gross men like me...”

his speech is slurred from the alcohol and his breath is strong with the scent of vodka, grabbing your jaw tightly, forcing your face against his to lick your cheek.

you shriek as he begins to make out with you non-consensually, your whimpers muffled, trying to push him away as he grinds and rocks his hips skywards against your cunt, panting and breathing heavily when security throws him out. :(

you're such a slut, little lamb. he'll be back, that's for sure...

[whalesforhands]

gulp your anxiety (geto x reader x gojo) pt.4

previous masterlist next

warnings: y’all were requesting tropes that were already in this, i thought someone leaked my drafts, anons ur scary, gojo is his own warning

You thought you were being normal.

No, you didn’t feel your heart drop as you watched Satoru sneak a kiss from Suguru before you entered the classroom.

No, you didn’t feel your words lodge themselves in your throat when you accidentally met their eyes whilst walking in.

No, you didn’t feel the searing desperation of loss within you as your heart longed for what could never be.

Your head hurts.

“So if f’(x)=6x^2,+2x-1, find f(x) given f(2)=5.” Yaga drawls out, the chalk scratching against the blackboard as the equation begins to form.

“Who wants to give it a shot?”

Satoru snorts. Suguru writes. Ieiri pretends to be thinking.

“Gojo. Thank you for volunteering.” Yaga taps his foot against the ground as he crosses his arms, brows furrowed. “Get up here.”

(He got it right after sneaking a peek of Suguru’s answer before he got up.)

——

It was strange, to say the least. The way the duo acted as if nothing had happened.

As if the hickeys that bruised your neck didn’t exist.

They pulled you along, pleading with you to join their little group outing to the nearby shopping centre. As usual.

“It’s part of the high school experience! What kind of teenagers are we if we don’t go there at least every week?”

That’s why you ended up here. Here, as in, waiting outside Ieiri’s waiting room as she changed, the rustling of clothing the only thing heard as you heard the curtains be drawn.

She donned a cute sundress, a maroon red and absolutely gorgeous on her. You stare unapologetically.

(She looks beautiful in anything.)

She takes your reactions in stride, strutting out whenever she sees that your jaw had dropped, laughing internally when she sees your awestruck face.

(She adds it to the pile that she had noted as ‘to purchase’.)

“I look good, don’t I?”

You nod profusely, unable to say anything whilst admiring her beauty.

When she draws the curtain open again, she’s back in her uniform. You feel disappointed.

“Was that all…?”

She huffs, as if discontent with your reaction.

(You want to apologise for breathing wrong.)

“No,” She begins, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear as she smiles. “It’s your turn now.”

…what?

——

“I-I don’t think this suits me…” You look at yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself wearing a white sundress with a similar design to the maroon one Ieiri donned earlier.

You don’t think it fits you right. The tied ribbons that settled on your shoulders as straps and ran down the length of your back were cute, but you don’t like how much of your upper body it exposed. A wide expanse of your chest was tastefully showcased, just enough to hide your cleavage but show your collarbones.

The flows fabric of the dress ended just below your knees, swishing around with every twirl or turn you did. It’s too pretty, too gorgeous to be wasted on someone who looked like you, you thought.

“It definitely looks better on you…” You murmur, staring at yourself in the mirror before pitifully casting your eyes down towards the ground.

“At least let me see it.” She drawled out from behind the curtain, “If you really don’t like it, we can find something else for us to match.”

She… Wanted to match dresses with you? You? You feel your heart jump in excitement.

“I-I’ll be right on out-!” You excitedly peel back the curtain, only to be met with widened blue and surprised black.

You didn’t expect them to be back so soon from the arcade.

You begin to shy back, hand gripping the curtain before Ieiri grabbed your hand, pulling you forward to reveal the entire getup you had on.

Suguru squeezes the lamb plush in his hands tighter. The lollipop in Satoru’s mouth falls to the ground.

You want to run.

“You look adorable.” She begins, scanning you up and down as your hand crosses over your chest. “I like the way it accentuates you.” She trails her hand from your slightly exposed shoulders, down to the expanse of your chest, her fingers lingering over the area just above your breasts.

You don’t hear two boys gulp.

“She looks pretty, doesn’t she?” Shoko moves behind you, pushing you forward by your shoulders as she shows you off. You couldn’t see, but she was smirking.

“The prettiest in the world.”

——

You stared at the menu, looking over your choices as the duo sat nearby, chattering.

(Ieiri had decided to go smoke. You didn’t want to be left alone with them. You offered to go order, not realising that you hadn’t seen Gojo pull out his black card for you to take.)

“How may I help you today, miss?” A jovial greeting from the boy at the counter. He looked your age.

“Ah, I-I’m not really s-sure yet.”

You completely forgot to ask for their orders in your haste to get away.

You’re stupid. So stupid. Is it not awkward to turn away now? Should you just pick what you think they would like? Will they hate it but try to swallow it anyway? Gosh, you don’t want that to happen. Why do you suck so mu-

“That’s plenty alright, miss! If you have trouble, I have some recommendations just for you!” He ushered you closer as he held up a miniature menu.

“We have a special today! Buy 2 of our combo set meals and we’ll upgrade your drink for free!” He smiles, pointing at the rather large words on such a comically small sheet of laminated paper.

You smile, looking up to meet his gaze, eyes briefly running over his name tag. Hasegawa.

“Thank you, Hasegawa-san.”

(He’s blushing.)

You take this time to observe his face. Freckles, his brown hair slightly mussed from his little work visor. You like his eyes best, you decide. Kind and upturned into little crescents when he smiles, gentle-looking.

They sort of remind you of Suguru.

He’s sort of cute.

He blushes harder as he notices your staring.

“Hey…? I-If you don’t mind, could I get your num-“

“Ooh, I think you wouldn’t mind me buying a few Wacburgers today, right Suguru?”

“Hah? You of all people should have money of your own, Satoru.”

You feel Satoru’s elbow rest on your shoulder as he leans forth, as if trying to get a better view of the menu.

“Ehhhh? But you lost at our 1v1 match afterall!”

You hear Suguru sigh, an arm subtly tugging down at your sleeve to reveal the hickeys that decorated your neck, before he placed his hand on your arm, as if holding you back from paying.

“I suppose so.” He hummed. “Okay, 3 Wacburger specials-“

“Make that 15, please!” Satoru had grinned over your shoulder, fingers tightening their grip ever so slightly, seemingly trying to squeeze you closer.

Suguru guffawed.

“Uhm- Excuse me, but-“

“Are you seriously going to eat 12 burgers-“

“Oh, look at that! They have a special today!” His eyes trailed over the large menu above Hasegawa from beneath his dark sunglasses. “Do you think you can add more chocolate bits to the Triple Chocolate Vanilla Deluxe?” Gojo hummed, straightening up ever slightly more, towering over the already cowering boy.

“R-right…” Hasegawa typed it in. “So that will be 15 Wacburger specials, 1 Triple Chocolate Vanilla Deluxe with extra cookie bi-“

“(name)~, wanna share my food with me?” Gojo cooed, his face closing in slightly on yours as he blocked your view from the front, obscuring your apologetic face from the boy.

You try to sputter it out. “I’m sorry for their behav-!”

“I’ll pay by cash, please.” Suguru smiled from beside you, moving forward ever so slightly, pushing you back subtly.

“Let’s go back to our seats~” Satoru leads you away, spinning you around and walking you back to your seats as his arm starts to settle on your waist.

You don’t complain.

Not even when his hand lingers before letting you go.

(Was it because Suguru wasn’t here?)

He settles in front of you, reaching for your hand and drawing mindless shapes on them as your eyes lose their focus.

“Do you think being strong means to be perfect at everything?”

Your rebuttal dies in your throat as you hear Gojo’s sentence.

No. No, you don’t think so. You shake your head.

“Then I don’t see why you’re so hard on yourself, ya know?” He yawns out, settling beside you.

Your heart skips a beat when you feel him sleepily lay his head on your shoulder. He’s comforting you.

“I think you’re enough.”

Do you think it’s stupid that you fell for him just because of that? No, you don’t. You found solace in the words you deserved to hear in your moment of need.

Gojo Satoru is precious to you.

A tray gently clatters onto the table as Suguru settles himself next to you, shifting you in further into the booth seat as the imposing stack of 15 wrapped burgers were piled on before you.

He was smiling as he unwrapped one, handing it to you as Satoru digs into his ice cream, eager and excited.

Oh. You were trapped.

masterlist next

Notes:

Ieiri’s scheming ploy was to have you wear something cute so that Satoru would willingly pay for the clothes with his card. (He did, in fact end up paying for all the clothes.)

(And she was happy she got you to match with her.)

Suguru was the one who complimented you at the clothing store. Satoru was too awestruck. You think he thinks you look horrendous. Why else would he spit out his lollipop?

STSG actually won you a lamb plush from a claw machine at the arcade. You remind them of one.

Hasegawa (the cashier from Wacdonald’s) thought you were really pretty. He still does, even after the whole STSG fiasco. He wished you told him you were already taken first.

Ieiri thinks you’re the cutest when you’re blushing.

STSG duo are trying to act nonchalantly after the whole ‘kissing you in the classroom’ thing. They thought they had scared you off, and are trying to do things slowly. Kind of like trying to tame a stray kitten.

STSG were also watching your every move as you ordered at Wacdonald’s. They did not like how charming you were to the random boy at the counter.

The answer to the equation is 2x^3+x^2-x-13. Standard integration question.

Suguru is smart, and actually quite likes studying. I would say his favourite subject was Japanese literature. Satoru, detests any academic experience. But somehow, still passes everything with flying colours. Ieiri does enough to just pass.

Suguru, Satoru, Shoko and yourself often study at Suguru’s room together when exams are coming up.

[tired-biscuit]

18+ mdni, fem!reader // cw: overstimulation, cockwarming

thinking about laying on top of sukuna and him using all four of his arms to overstimulate you.

your spine is flushed against his chest, sweat making your skin sticky and hot. he's deep inside you, has been for a long while, actually; his cock a big, mighty thing that stretches you to the brink of almost unbearable pain and burns you from the inside, the flames spreading slow and languid to lick right up to your fucking womb.

two broad palms knead both of your tits, thick fingers playing with and pinching your sensitive nipples. by now, the tattoos that circle his wrists look blurry from how many tears are begining to cling to your lashes and linger at your waterline. much to his silent surprise, however, you never let them spill down your cheeks.

and that's a good thing - for you, of course. you know that he'd be simply overjoyed if you had let your tears run freely by now, after all, but that doesn't stop him from taunting and provoking you further. doesn't stop him from pushing your pathetic, humanly limits.

and fuck, his third hand has found its rightful home right between your trembling legs because of it. he's toying with your clit in his typical nonchalant fashion; acting as if you're nothing but a mere chore, as you beg and plead him like the little slut you'd sworn to yourself you'd never become for him. all whilst he's rubbing the sensitive, throbbing button of nerves in these tight little circles that make you want to claw his eyes out and end him once and for all.

and damn him, whenever he feels like you're getting too close at reaching the heavenly bliss you so shamelessly desire from a demon like him, he flicks your clit; making you jump and stutter above him like some helpless lamb - like prey. just like that, he forces you to lose the edge you so desperately want to tip over, making even more blood rush south with the fast pace of your heart.

it turns everything tender as a result. you're pissed - livid - whenever he does it, rightfully so, and yet you can't do anything about it.

his fourth hand holds you by the hip and keeps you achingly still. preventing you from slipping away from him, not letting you get off of him. he's got you locked in his own intimate little prison; its design purely him. all rich velvet and unyielding heat that turns you light-headed and dazed... and he hasn't even made you bounce on his cock yet.

instead, his lips touch your neck. sharp teeth glide across your pulse. you can't see him, but you can feel the sneer against your skin, as well as the way he tightens the embrace. and how he twitches because of your wet warmth.

escape isn't an option.

but it had never been a want either.

[beenbaanbuun]

hii I don't really send in asks, but what would addams!matz reaction be if darling uses their safe word for the first time during play time?btw I just love ur work sm!! I go to ur blog everyday just to check you out😅

ahhhh thank you so much for your love and support 🥰💕 it means so much to me!!!!!!!

as for your question, i think they’d both go into panic mode, but in different ways. whilst hongjoong’s panic would be external, seonghwa’s would be internal; someone has to handle the situation calmly after all…

of course, they’d both stop whatever they’re doing the second the word falls from darling’s lips, slowly pulling away from her to give her space to breathe. hongjoong so badly wants to crowd her, pick her up in his arms and hold her close until she feels better. seonghwa holds him back; they don’t know what’s wrong yet. holding her might only make things worse.

and whilst hongjoong nervously fidgets, clearly fighting the urge to smother his little dove, seonghwa takes a deep breath and asks what happened. a million thoughts are running through his brain, but he keeps them locked away for now. he can have a moment to process them later when he knows it won’t affect her. the last thing he wants is for his feelings to influence yours, especially when you’re so vulnerable.

and 9 times out of 10, it’s guaranteed to be something small. maybe darling is a little more tired than she realised, or maybe she’s still aching from the night before. sometimes she just gets a little overstimulated from all the soft touches and endless love being rained down on her from all angles. she tells them it’s fine, opens her arms and waits for her favourite men to crawl in close.

it puts their minds to ease a little, although there’s still that tiny thought at the back of their minds blaming them for noticing anything wrong before they started. they should’ve been keeping an eye on her, making sure everything was fine and dandy before they even thought about her in such a way. they lap up her reassurances, letting the small whispers of ‘i promise i’m okay’ fill their minds and calm them down. they’ll never really get rid of that guilt, but it gets just a little easier to deal with as they settle into bed with her.

and they’re so full of praises, even despite both of their inner turmoil, constantly whispering sweet words into darling’s hair as they hold her close.

“we’re so pleased you told us, lamb,” seonghwa would purr into her ear as hongjoong presses kisses to your temple.

“so proud of you for letting us know what you need…”

[therainbowdragoness]

Witchers on Halloween

Cat School Edition

Decorating the Caravan with ridiculously over the top things, like a skeleton hanging out of a sunroof

Nobody coordinates their costumes because they can’t agree on anything.

Aiden usually does something with Lambert, and since the wolves usually have a theme for costumes, he lets Lamb decide what they’re doing.

The younger cats all hit up a club or something of the like on Halloween night.

They have a competition going too. How many people can they each jumpscare before the night is over?

Rules are, you aren’t allowed to use the same method of scaring someone twice and they actually have to be scared, little flinches don’t count.

The cats either dress incredibly sexy or incredibly scary. Sometimes both depending on the costume.

Dragonfly is the reigning champ of the Jumpscare contest.

If Gaetan is with Letho on Halloween, he’s still playing the game. When people walk up to Letho’s place, he ends up running them off, terrifying them in some demented manner whilst his Viper boyfriend is curled up inside, waiting for his boys to come home.

Guxart splits his time. He stays around at the caravan for awhile, getting buzzed and listening to his old music, relaxing by the bonfire he’s built and handing out candy to any kids that come by the camp. Then at some point he douses the fire, straightens everything up around the caravan for when the kits get back (there’s plenty of supplies for hangover cures in the main camper for morning) and then makes his way over to Vesemir’s place to spend the rest of the evening.

[negativecharm]

War God!Ghost x princess!reader.

description: hurt/no comfort, dark themes, stockholm syndrome.

War God!Ghost marries the princess from the enemy kingdom he swore to destroy as in peace treaty but he can't seem to stop envisioning the more sadistic ways to break you away from your grace as a replacement of unleashing the hatred he has for the king and his people.

If there's a stronger word than love, he has it running through him when you tremble in his presence alone.

War God!Ghost makes up every possible method to have you cling back to him, treating you fairly better after every attempt of confining you in the cells.

War God!Ghost who gets so obssessed with his strategy about the whole punishing the lamb game when you show your attachment to him after countless days of constant torture and no human interaction.

War God!Ghost softens up for you as a turn- and for the neglect that he has yet to give you, just to hear your cries along with other incoherent apologies for the things you never commited rise up from the deepest part of his fortress to his chambers.

War God!Ghost believes there are things on this earth that are purely made just to be festered or destroyed for his own satisfactory as a war god.

War God!Ghost has in his knowledge, any being so corrupted by fear has no control over themselves and his heart swells with that idea. And that only makes him visualize your almost lifeless face adorned with a pair of miserable eyes glazed with tears.

War God!Ghost treats you like nothing more than a mutt when he brings you to his chambers, teaching you to obey his commands in his own perverted ways while you're sat on the cold and harsh surface of the fortress, body bare next to where he lounges.

War God!Ghost grabs you by the throat and lifts you to his eye level when you squeaks out a small helpless protest, easily pins you against the wall with one forearm whilst he promises you how he can smother your life just with the love he has for you.

War God!Ghost who laughs at the look of panic on your face when your own voice betrays you by coming out as nothing but a short rasp after he tells you to beg for his mercy so he won't have to use the coiled whip in his hand.

War God!Ghost lets you sob into his chest after a good punishment session, slightly pressing into the slash wounds to hear the little voices you make that he loves so so much.

[bibibi-tchx]

Does lil man ever have moments where he just needs to be with both mami and papi at all times? I can see lil man just waking up extra clingy needing to have both of them in his eye sight at all times just wanting their comfort :(

oh anon of course he does

especially when hes teeny tiny- being that small, where hes smaller than about 1yrs old, everything seems that weirder. like, the world feels as though its going to swallow him whole, and he can’t even think of any way to describe it- all he knows is that he wants his papi and his mami right there right now.

which cues him waking up in his normal adult bed, and feeling as though everything is out of place, and hes much too small to be in his big boy bed- tears ensue, and he is sobbing

hes too small to even communicate whats wrong, so he just continues to cry, trying his best to call out for both of his caregivers but because hes way way too small, all he can do is repeat “ma” over and over again. even a full “mami” or “papi” feels too out of reach for his tongue, so hes just babbling a very wet, a very sad sounding “ma” the best he can in between all of the hiccups

of course it doesnt take long for both of his mami and papi to be in his room, picking him up and consoling him, rhea rocking him gently from side to side whilst damians right next to her, singing his usual lullabies to try and soothe dominik

sobby lil babie immediately shuts up, to the point where rhea and damian then proceed to turn to each other and make small quizzical faces- like, it was so swift for him to stop crying, and hiccuping not long after, that they are puzzled; they make the look.

theres a look that all caregivers have when their baby does something that is baffling, but they are still amused by it. trust me here. cgs yall know the look im on about. <3

“im going to run downstairs to grab him a smoothie or something for him to drink, solid foods might be a bit too overwhelming for him at the moment.” comes out from damian after a few minutes of them playing with the very teeny baby, with damian and rhea making different faces and such and watching how hes reacting to try and gage exactly how small dominik has woken up that morning

rhea’s nodding, because thats a fair idea, and its also a way for damian to have another means of hiding veggies in dominik’s diet and she can’t oppose that really

but the moment is out of dominik’s sight from where him and rhea are cuddling on the bed, with rhea holding up his lamb to his face to try and distract their iddy biddy boy, even though it hasnt worked the moment damian turns his back from their cuddle on the bed, and dominik’s wails ensue once more, probably even louder than before

he deffo tries to clumsily reach out and grab at his papi too, needing to have him nearby at all times or else all hell is gonna break loose

damian aint all that impressed either, feeling absolutely horrible that he has to leave, “oh niñito, papi’s got to go make you some breakfast. dont you wanna eat?”

surprise surprise, dominik shakes his head, “nuhuh- pa!” looking so forlorn, purely upset

rhea looks upset too- she doesn’t really know what to do, but she knows that if damian leaves, shes gonna need to follow him with dominik in her arms, “dont you want to have a cuggle, baby blueberry? arent you comfy, hm?” because she knows that dominik dont do well when changing locations when hes that small

dominik nods, bcus yuh duh of course hes comfy!! he has his mami, and he has his papi. its a no brainer, however he cant even think to deal with not having both of them nearby, so he starts to tear up a little bit at the thought, but hes still so so comfy, which means that hes nodding, but hes still crying

caregivers confusion to the max

“are you comfy, little one?” in the most soothing whisper that rheas voice has ever gone, the pads of her thumbs gentily wiping away at dominiks tears

“mhm.” with a little hiccup, big brown eyes staring up at damian, bcus nuhuh papi cannot go

it definitely is a whole back and forth, until, eventually, rhea has to bring the babie around with her everywhere

thank u anon !! <3

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Witch Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find our other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ the school of extraordinary lovers by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (M, 191)

"We keep telling the other, I love you and I love you, and we do, though we both know where the knives are." - Laura Van Prooyen

harry is a third-year witch and violinist at Laitswold, the only magical academy in the UK, with dreams of taking on the world, and hopefully breaking the centuries-old curse on his family while he's at it. he does not dream of facing off against his childhood rival and duet partner, but louis is back in town after six years abroad, so that's exactly what happens.

2️⃣ love is divine by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci (M, 25k)

Being a witch doesn't help when it comes to unrequited love.

3️⃣ Drops of Jupiter by @itsmotivatingcara (M, 121k)

In a small, sleepy town ruled by prejudice, Louis Tomlinson runs his grandmothers shop for the occult. He finds comfort in his tarot cards, his friends, and a dog that he doesn't have room for. He thought the worst he'd have to deal with would be bigotry, until a new sheriff arrives with a headstrong little girl that's impossible not to fall in love with.

But what happens when a string of break-ins leads to a brutal attack, and the towns' darling is murdered right under their Sunday hats? A murder that just so happens to bear the same modus operandi as similar homicides in neighbouring states. Has the killer been circling Virginia, or is he a local of Lavender Hills?

And what will Louis do when the charming Sheriff Styles starts to suspect him of such a heinous crime?

4️⃣ What Good Are The Stars Above by ultravioletInk (M, 68k)

A gratuitous alternate universe where Harry is more interested in the Slytherins than a Gryffindor Muggleborn has any right to be, Louis has settled into his preordained role, and Liam just really wants to get his friends through their final year of Hogwarts without accruing any casualties.

5️⃣ House of The Rising Sun by @itsmotivatingcara (M, 101k)

“It wasn’t me.” Louis said after they’d walked a block in silence, Harry glanced over in surprise but this time Louis didn’t meet his eyes, instead looking ahead. The moonlight cast shadows under his striking cheekbones, and not for the first time, Harry thought he was eerily beautiful - though immortality would likely have a hand in that. “It was supposed to be, but I got caught up in something else.”

“Something more important than murdering a witch” Harry snarked, “Will wonders never cease.”

He felt Louis’ irritation before he spoke again, “Careful, little lamb.” He murmured.

Little lamb.

Harry despised the nickname Louis had given him when they’d first met nine months prior. Little Lamb to the slaughter, Louis had said mockingly.

Or The Originals AU that no one asked for.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 A Spell and A Spark by @dinosaursmate (T, 73k)

“We have something to tell you.” Louis’ eyes slowly looked around the room. He frowned at the absence of anyone else. “We? Who? You and the cat?” Louis scoffed. “Yes.” Louis glanced at Niall, unimpressed. The black cat was looking at him quizzically. “Right. Well, spit it out, Mum.” “There’s no easy way to tell you this, so I’m just going to say it.” She took a deep breath. “You’re a witch.” --- Louis is a teenage witch, living and attending university among mortals. He has to keep his secret whilst studying on both his degree and his witch's licence. His friends don't suspect a thing, even as spell after spell goes awry.

💎 Spinning Out Waiting for You by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose (M, 18k)

Harry Styles is a year and a half away from graduating with a masters in potions and he has one huge milestone to reach in his academy career: the Matching Ceremony.

From Halloween night until graduation, matched witches and familiars will have to create a talisman to be a physical representation of their bond. One for the witch and one for the familiar. Most pairings last an entire lifetime.

If only it were that simple.

💎 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday (T, 10k)

Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

💎 Babe, There's Something Lonesome About You by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey (M, 8k)

Louis is a hedge witch, who lives a lonely, solitary life. He's quite happy with his shop in Door County, selling New Age magics to the tourists. He also has his cats and his birds to keep him company. But his best friend Liam thinks he needs someone around, and he's got just the person: Liam's friend Harry is coming to the area for the tourist season and since Louis has all this space....

💎 Cookbooks and Toothpicks and One Lizard by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup (G, 3k)

If there is one thing that Harry hates about Halloween, it’s what a spectacle everyone suddenly makes around him.

Sure, he loves his friends, but he really wishes that this one, singular day of the year they could all just be chill. It’s as if for 364 days they forget what his profession is entirely, and then all remember at the same moment on the morning of October 31st. Oh yeah! I have a friend who is a witch! I should reconnect with him on this particular day, I’m sure he’s not already got plans of any kind!

Well not this year. This year he's going to the library.

[sweetm0uringlamb]

1 day until november 5th

[story-telling]

~~~~Maze to the death~~~~

TW: blood loss, self harm implied, razors, gore, domestic abuse/violence

This is my POV AU of a saw trap that is Alice in wonderland themed

(Currently hyperfixating on saw if you couldn’t tell 🩷)

Your eyes flutter open as you smell stale iron mixed with the filthy dust on the floor, you raise your head weakly and let out a dry hefty cough as if you hadn’t drank water in years. You manage to scramble to your feet, the entire room pitch black. Your leg seems to be in a chain as the rattling of it enthrals panic to course through your body.

“HELLO?” You cry out in frustration and confusion, your voice echoing throughout the empty room.

You pull your leg as a hard as you can but something clicks. The lights turn on and you are faced with a maze, the maze was as tall as the roof, 12 feet you judged. Suddenly there’s static, an old tv flickers on as your met with static and a loud screaming sound. You cover your ears and hunch over in pain, as you look up to the tv again it’s silent, your hands drop from your ears and you stare at the television waiting.

The tv flickers once more and a puppet appears on screen, white skinny face with red swirls on the cheeks, black hair and wearing a suit. He turns to you and just laughs. Laughs. Laughs.

*“Hello y/n. You’re probably wondering where you are, so pay close attention, it may cost you your life. around you is a maze, you must find the exit in the time allotted, simple. As the timer progresses the spikes lining the walls will close in, slowly impaling you until you are unable to move or succumb to your wounds. Which ever comes first. So I suggest you move quickly. You’ve delt your share of pain in your failed relationships, mental and physical, now it is your choice, face the pain you’ve caused the ones you love, or be lost to the maze forever”

The raspy voice spoke and all the images comes flashing back, your ex partner, their bruises, their cuts, their tears. All of it. Caused by you, you begin to feel weak, helpless, sacrificed like a lamb. You pull yourself together and look up as you heard a beeping, there was a timer for 1 minute above your head and your ankle is released from the chain. You realise quickly that you have to move.

You start running towards the maze and are feeling a little more hopeful. You feel you may win, you feel there may be victory. Until.

“AAAAHHH. Shit.” You run into a dead end. Razors blades and spikes cut through your skin like paper. Your blue top being dyed a dark crimson red, you move back slowly and nearly trip over your own feet. Looking back up at the timer. You’re at 45 seconds.

Steadying back on your feet you start moving swiftly and watching out for dead ends, you decide to check the timer again and see that you have 30 seconds. Whilst doing so your abdomen gets impaled by three spikes attached to roses as you scream out in agony. Your bleeding increases as you start to feel weak and breathless. Looking back up. You have 20 seconds.

Continuing on, you see a walkway through the edge of the hedge, your eyes light up as you move quicker and quicker, once more. You are met with another dead end, your ankles and wrists cuttings, displaying your veins, swallowing your scream through gritted teeth you look back at the clock.

Ten seconds.

You see the walkway as you walk quickly towards.

Nine seconds.

The spikes start closing in

Eight seconds.

You’re forced to walk sideways towards the walkway

Seven seconds.

You’re so close.

Six seconds.

The spikes making contact with your shirt

Five seconds.

As you are close to the walkway. Your leg gets caught between the spikes

Four seconds.

You fall and your face makes contact with the concrete floor, skidding your skin against rock.

Three seconds.

The spikes still enclosing in around your ankle you scramble to get both your legs out.

Two seconds.

You only manage. One.

One second.

Your foot is trapped. You lay there in a panicked state.

“I DID IT. I DID IT YOU BASTARD” you scream out in anger.

“LET ME GO” you wiggle your ankle. The spikes penetrating your wound, you feel your foot twitch and cry out in pain. You decide to pull as hard as you can, you put your, now stained crimson red, top in your mouth to bite down on and grab your shin.

You start to pull your leg out of the spikes, the foot being shredded in the meantime. You look away and don’t stop no matter what. Your foot is out. It’s mangled. But it’s out. You hang your head and sigh in relief as you let out a small cry.

“I win…” you breathed out heavily as you crawl over out the walkway and prop yourself up against the wall

*the speech was written by the lovely @lace-coffin !! Yall should check out their stuff!!

Thank you so much for reading and as always! Feel free to request stuff!!! 🩷

[inky-escapism]

Jealously makes the heart.... beat faster?

“You’re spending too much time in the library, don’t you think?” Riftan looked at Maxi through the mirror as he combs her red hair.

“Well, I like reading books.” Maxi blushed from the attention. “And you know that..” she whispered, giving Riftan a soft smile.

The truth is, Maxi has been mumbling in her sleep, calling out a certain name he couldn’t work out and it’s bothering Riftan so much he couldn’t sleep.

For a few weeks now, Riftan’s insomnia has kept the knights enervated, especially Hebaron. Being the only knight who could kept up with Riftan, Hebaron, the sacrificial lamb, endured through the rough waves of drills till dusk. And it doesn’t help that the weather was getting warmer as summer months creep in. “Sir Nirta, come back here!” Uslin hissed, feeling frazzled with the sun shining harshly on his perfect face. Being the vice commander, Hebaron used to oversee the training of squires with Uslin before Riftan’s unease.

“Save me.” Hebaron mouths to Uslin, as Riftan drags Hebaron further away from Uslin’s group.

“Why, why? Why do I have to do this alone?” whingeing under his breath, Uslin repeats this same question for the umpteenth time. Tired and annoyed, Uslin looks up and shouts to the knight carving his own arrows. “Gabel, you come here then!”

“Noisy. Again.” Ruth comments, rolling his eyes as he hears Uslin calling out to Gabel on his trip to the library.

Back at the castle, Ruth was on his way for another lesson with Maxi. ‘Looks like I’ll have to conjure another shield to keep their nonsense out.’ Ruth sighs as he pushes the door open.  

“My lady, you’re early.” Ruth yawned, cracking his fingers.

Maxi jumped from his sudden comment and hugged the book tightly in her chest.

“Don’t bother, I know what you’re reading. No books of spells are in that colour” Ruth giggled.

 “It’s just too intriguing. Do you think the forgotten princess will eventually find out that her new guard was that hero from her childhood? Will she get together with Sir Herman in the end?’ Maxi squeals.

“Lesson 394, My STUDENT.” Ruth taps the blackboard with his chalk sternly as if to bring Maxi back to Anatol, knowing her soul was transported to the Land of Roses with Ser Herman and the maiden, rumoured to be the forgotten princess.

‘Yes, yes, Mage Ruth..’ opening her books while taking a sip of the tea Rudys left before leaving the library for her other chores.

Ending her lessons with tons of homework, Maxi dragged her spell books out of the library. Her small built made her had no choice but to leave her novels behind and come back to get them again after.

“Back from your book club activities with Ruth?” Riftan questioned in bemusement, not expecting his wife to be back this early.

“Where’s Rudys?” Riftan asked as he took over the pile of books from Maxi.

Panting, Maxi waves the questions away with her lady hands as she sat on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Taking a huge breath in, Maxi proceeds to leave for the library again to get her novels.

“Where are you going? Don’t tell me you’re going to the library again! Just how many books are Ruth trying to bury you under? I’ll have a talk with him.” Riftan said as he pulled Maxi’s arm back.

“No, it’s not that. It’s something else. I’ll be back soon!” Maxi chirps as she pecked Riftan goodbye.

“You’re not having dinner with us tonight?” Riftan questions behind Maxi, as she runs off with her puffy dress that can be seen bouncing in far end of the stairs now.

“I’ll see you at the dining hall!” Her little lady voice trailed off, as she hurried back to the library. “Rudys!” Maxi exclaimed. Glad that she caught Rudys in time, before she tidies up the library.

“My lady, please do not run along the corridors. You might fall and injure yourself.” Rudys warmly greeted Maxi with a worry.

Maxi blushed as she bashfully remembered her blue-blacks from her falling and knocking onto the walls whilst reading. It was good practice for her too, on her healing spells.

“My books, they’re not back on the shelves, are they?” Her wide eyes scanning the table.

“No, My Lady, they’re here. I was about to bring them back to your room after cleaning up Mage Ruth’s mess on the floor.” Rudys smiled tightly, her certain dislike for Ruth can been sensed.

Maxi let out a sigh of relief, “Thank you Rudys! That’s very sweet of you!” Maxi exclaimed as she hugged Rudys tightly.

“Let’s go for dinner now, Riftan is waiting!” Maxi collected her books from Rudys, laughing while chatting as they head to the dining hall.

Even at the door, the scent of hot gravy and roasted meat perfumed the air.

“My lady, would you like to join us?” Elliot asked, as he spot Maxi coming through the door. He was standing at his seat, splitting servings of the roasted boar for the table.

“Yes, Sir Elliot! It smells wonderful!” Maxi grins, happier than ever as she realized her stutter has improved dramatically. ‘Not an extra syllable, today!’ Maxi smirks to herself.

Moving their bottoms along, expecting Maxi to naturally take the seat beside their Lord Commander, Maxi saw the empty seat beside Hebaron and just took it. Unbeknownst to her, Riftan wasn’t too pleased with her decision.

‘She knows which pubs I go to.. I can’t just go to any pubs now. I hate drinking in the castle.’ Hebaron was brooding over his avoidance in the local pubs. ‘It’s so boring here… I want to go out there, and drink with the other lads.’ Tilting his head towards the window, Hebaron stares into the night sky whilst Gabel steals his cuts of meat.

A cold breeze sneaked in as swiftly as it went out, causing Maxi to shudder from its sudden visit. As she was directly in Hebaron’s line of sight, Hebaron thinks nothing of it, and took off his vest, putting it on Maxi. ‘Don’t get a cold, My Lady’. Hebaron adds as he got the squires to close off the windows before going back to his dwelling.

Across the table, a darken Riftan was seen stabbing his meat, giving it a second death. ‘Why is he looking at Maxi like that?.. Is it Hebaron?’ Riftan envisaged in his thoughts.

“Sir Hebaron, why are you not eating?” Maxi questioned as she joins Gabel in shrinking Hebaron’s mountain of meat. Jealous at this slight action, Riftan immediately plates more roasted boar for Maxi. ‘I’ll get more meat for you if you want, all you have to do is ask. Why are you getting it from him?’ Letting his jealously run his thoughts, Riftan narrows his eyes at Maxi and Hebaron, frowning so much that his eyebrows are almost touching.

“Start eating or there’ll be none left.” Uslin warns Hebaron as he hastily swats Gabel’s fork away. Getting the cue, Elliot sighs as he stands up again, cutting more meat to fill up Hebaron’s plate.

“I’m not hungry.” Hebaron states, shocking the whole table. “I’ll go to bed now.” Hebaron put his fork down and pushes his plate towards Maxi. “Here, you can have them, My Lady.” Hebaron smiles as he pats Maxi’s shoulder, gesturing her to eat up, before leaving the table.

“Is he alright?” Maxi asked, her eyes following Hebaron as he walked away.

‘Is he alright?! What about me? I’m not alright. Why do you keep looking at him instead?’ Riftan grumbled in his head.

“He’ll be fine, My Lady.” Uslin assured, waving a kitchen maid over. “Bring this and more ale to Sir Nirta’s room.” Uslin instructs her as he hands her a stacked pile of meat on a clean plate.

“Work wife indeed.” Ruth’s comment boosted a great deal of hilarity along the table. However, Gabel and Elliot shut their laughter immediately upon receiving Uslin’s side eye.

Maxi smiled at their interaction, as she continued to stuff her face with dinner, leaving nothing on her plate before she retreated to her room with Riftan.

“Carry me, I can’t walk. I’m too full..” Maxi whimpered, tugging on Riftan’s sleeves. Sighing in defeat, the jealous husband picked his wife up in his arms.

“Am I heavy?” Maxi asked, her fingers fidgeting with Riftan’s top.

“No.” Riftan replies cooly.

“Then why are you grimacing? Your face’s wrinkly.” Maxi pouts as she cautiously cups his face with her hands. Her touch softened his mood.

“It’s nothing.” Riftan kicks the bedroom door open and lays Maxi gently on the bed. Not letting go of Riftan’s top, Maxi used all of her energy to pull him closer for a kiss.

“Silly girl.” Riftan finally smiles as he ruffles her hair, joining her under the sheets. Maxi quickly fell asleep in his arms, with her tummy full of roasted boar.

Unable to sleep, much like the past few nights, Riftan started analysing his thoughts, running through the information as if to plan a combined attack on the field. Misusing his talents as a warfare strategist, Riftan connected the string of words Hebaron told him the other night, that how it was impossible for Hebaron to be with the innominate lady and how rumours will start flying like flies in the sky, with the name Maxi kept muttering in her sleep. Starting with a H, and seems to end with a N.

Piecing 2 wrong puzzle pieces together, Riftan jolts out of bed angrily, as he stormed towards Hebaron’s room with his tirade of nonsensical thoughts.

‘Hebaron, get up.’ Riftan whispered loudly as he fiddled with the doorknob.

Getting impatient, Riftan crushed the doorknob in anger and the door creaked open. Astounded by his own anger, Riftan strut into Hebaron’s room only to find it empty. Not even a soul behind his cloaks this time around.

‘He’s not here?’ Riftan sat on Hebaron’s bed, feeling bewildered with his paranoiac thoughts at the helm. ‘My wife and my best friend?’ Just then, a small shadow on the walls outside of Hebaron’s room caught his attention. “Maxi?” Riftan calls out.

The small shadow on the walls flickered, as Maxi quivered at the sound of his voice, not expecting to hear it at this corner of the castle. She carefully pushed the half-opened door, where the sound was from and was shocked to see Riftan standing in front of her. His hair was in a mess and his body, radiating an unusual amount of heat.

“Riftan, your heart. I can hear it from here. Are you okay? It sounds really fast. It’s beating much faster than usual... ” Maxi questioned with a concerning look in her eyes, her hand reaching out to his chest.

[author's note: have you guys realized that my stories are linked? ٩(⁎❛ᴗ❛⁎)۶]

[wiltf]

they tell you to stage a run-in.

no room for argument, of course, because they remind you of contracts and timing and drama. do it for the drama. ratings and interest, of course, of course, and you’ve been hearing the concerns getting louder. more frequent. what about the music? has started to become a mantra, as more bands get caught up in the riptide that has pulled you, them, her, in.

all in, barely holding on. music didn’t matter anymore. keiran had yet to stop kicking the wall, just enough to push in the toe of his shoe, but each time he did it, those words followed. this wasn’t about being in a band. this was about drama.

to be fair, even you had started to feel it. part of you wanted to laugh at the cassandra truth of it from all the way back at auditions, when your eyes had first run over the entrants and had seen caller, relentless. pope had expressed concern to you, solely, about perhaps it would be best to skip this season. to not risk it. to keep those lines in the sand.

you don’t know who it was who pushed to stay in — no, you do. you’re lying again. to yourself, always, as you catch the whirl of red hair coming around the corner.

lighter, looking more pink. she hadn’t been given a chance on the bus to dye her hair — or so she claimed. but special attention had been paid to the eye of the hurricane, to keep everything prim and upright and pretty in pink.

yet it couldn’t get rid of the lines, the swelling under her eyes. green around the gills.

jennifer lamb clocks the presence of soft violence, minus their most lawless one, about a generous five steps from where they had been told to wait. and you had spent more than enough time now in and around lamb, a lamb with no understanding of silence, to start to pick up on the little tics. had you done research? no (yes). absolutely no idle video watching and seeing the masks slip in and out with ease. and you’re lying, because was also about the muscles that jumped in her cheek, the frowns, the eye rolls and the way that she just never seemed to stop staring forlornly, like nobody else was watching.

except now, because jennifer had chosen you as the target of a mighty glare, hindered only by the puffiness of someone who had no doubt just been crying. the suggestion from the producer was to get her to admit anything, and for you, the band: for you to tell her to back off. for the drama. ‘put some distance between yourselves that she will ignore’, they said, so easily, so unfeelingly.

your suggestion for a song had been something about marionettes, and seven had agreed far too easily.

“jennifer,” you greet, smiling in a way that always seemed to bother her.

truth be told, you’re not sure why — if anything, there was a perfectly polite exchange here and there during the day, but. she always looked at you like you had done something particularly heinous in another life. keiran had suggested it was probably the ‘sleeping together’ comment, and whilst you wanted to disagree, a part of you knew it was probably true. a great first introduction, in hindsight.

but you didn’t have time for petty jealousy, so the smile remains on your face. pope and keiran mumble out something as well, almost like a ‘hi’ but it was probably just a grunt. would be edited out, no doubt. granted, they had to give the producers something worthwhile, anyway. they could just linger for a minimum of five minutes, but as long as their microphones caught even an essence of a spark, it would be worth it.

apparently. as jennifer just sucks on her teeth and nods, eyes never leaving you. but she knows she’s trapped, and that there was clearly something else going on. five minutes, starting now, you tell yourself, as you cover those few steps to actually be within a reasonable speaking distance. speaking, as if you actually had something to care about (wait, well, you do, but you know that seven didn’t want you swinging a bat at his issue, right now. the producers did, on the other hand).

“can i help you?” tight, clipped, already on edge. it might be easier to bring something to the table for the producers. it might be harder.

you had no real plan for this, because all the questions that had been plaguing you since you had first brought seven in were not meant for television. they were almost too private, and a part of you wanted to respect that — for seven, at the very least. there was something so strange about wielding the power now, to expose and damage, when one of the most intimidating people you had met was barely held together with lash glue and sequins.

but this was for seven, and your spot on the show. “we wanted to talk about… the bus.” and keeping popular and voted and seven. it was all to keep him in line, on track, aiming for the end. “the arrangement we have isn’t working.”

“is this something that we should have both bands discussing, with everyone? or is this something related to me, specifically?” arms crossed, brows all the way up.

she’s still intimidating, even if you were sure that one wrong poke to the side would turn her into a puddle. “it’s about you and seven.”

cameras would be able to catch even the smallest change in her facial expression, but there is nothing minute in how she reacts. inside of the cheek likely being bit, pinching her face. jennifer’s eyes narrow and her hands go to her hips and her eyes fall to her shoes. she’s an open book of longing and regret.

“what part of me and—what about the arrangement? i can’t take it back now, even with other teams eliminated. that’s not how it works.”

truthfully, this line of questioning was completely by the seat of your pants. you only had a few aces up your sleeve, and didn't want to expose this one, not yet. but out the corner of your eye, soft violence’s cameraman gives a clear indication that this was still falling short of the mark.

“i’ve seen your notebook, jennifer. whatever feelings you still have for seven, enough. stop hurting him.”

keiran and pope are two faces that you try desperately to block out, with how their expressions give away everything. were you really the type of person to take a peek? no, not normally. but this had been eating at you, and the longer it went on, the most you just wanted to understand. to put the pieces together so that maybe it would be possible to move forward once and for all.

so you broke that sacred promise. you opened lamb’s ark, of sorts, the barely held together book that was carted around with normally a very high amount of care. duct tape and signatures and photos, glue. sharpie that covered pages and ones that were missing, pushed back in. dates and times and there were several lifetimes, in there, that you had read as quickly as you could under the cover of night.

in your hands you had held polaroids and photos printed on scratched gloss and ink-streaked paper, as if done at home with the utmost care. it was absolutely a goldmine of potential, particularly if shown to the wrong people, and your admission into even having a peek was crossing so many lines. you didn’t want this part to go on air, you didn’t want seven to find out.

you don’t know why you really cared.

jennifer was silent. for the first time since you had first met, even when dressed down and out of performance, it she still carried noise, tell-tale beating that she was still nearby. so hard to ignore and move around, at opposites with people that you had only known to carry their own little suns. jennifer’s noise eclipsed that tenfold, blew the candles out.

yet, now. there was nothing.

“jennif—”

you’re cut off, as a deep sigh leaves her. “whatever you saw in there, don't tell him. please, avina. fuck’s sake just—don’t, okay? please?!”

and you should say, okay.

and you should say, you understand.

and you should apologise, right here and now, for even considering to take a glance at the first page, where there were hearts and their initials and a love poem, seven’s handwriting, still preserved in clear tape and cardboard on the back, just to make sure.

but you shake your head. matching her, sigh to sigh, arms loosely folded across your chest. “you should’ve left when you had the chance.”

[beantothemax]

Temenos Mistral was no stranger to nightmares. 

They were commonplace after Roi’s disappearance, only made worse after the pontiff’s murder. And now, with three other companions at his side, he could not help but conjure up horrendous outcomes that might befall them should they continue to follow him on this path. 

He was no stranger to doubt, either. After Roi had disappeared so long ago, Temenos had drilled it into himself to trust no one. Only his father, the pontiff, was to be trusted. Not even the villagers could be entrusted with more than a few harmless secrets. 

So when they arrived in Canalbrine and the prickles of distrust tingled under his skin, he listened well. 

Though pleasantly surprised by Crick’s appearance as he was, he knew they couldn’t afford to waste anymore time there than necessary. The trail of the apothecary’s death was already running cold, colder still every moment spent at the inn. 

Restlessness sank into every bone of his body, tossing and turning him about in bed, cursing him to never find a comfortable position to simply lay and sleep in. That was all he needed. He wouldn’t even complain if his sleep was dreamless. As long as he slept at all. 

His nightmare was conjured in an hour of that painful, pitiful restlessness, coming to fruition when he finally managed to force sleep upon himself. 

Agnea, spirited away without a trace, presumed dead by all. Another one close to him lost to his own hubris and blasphemy. 

Partitio, gored by the Felvarg in the cathedral, the pontiff beside him. If Temenos had only been a little quicker in getting to him... 

Hikari dying in the Montwise arena, pierced through and bleeding out. Temenos felt sick knowing he couldn’t heal him, not at that distance. Not from so far away. 

Crick laying dead in a sea of white, hand clutching the note from the pontiff’s tome, the last words on his lips being Temenos’s name. Even now, he was prideful to imagine Crick would call for him with his final breath. How foolish. How arrogant. 

How pathetic he was, standing by and watching his friends fall one after the other whilst he did nothing to help. Whilst he idled and lamented his grief to unhearing gods. Whilst night approached, rapid and unending. 

Temenos awoke with a start to hear voices outside the inn room. They were familiar voices, though too muffled to hear fully. 

“—investigate on our own—” 

“—too dangerous!—” 

“—no other choice—” 

What were the voices planning to investigate? And on their own? Did they have another with them? 

It hit him then that the beds beside him were empty of their inhabitants. Agnea was gone, her hairclip still on the night-table. Partitio’s hat was, too. Hikari’s sword was gone, however- meaning he must have been one of the voices Temenos was hearing. 

“—rouse Temenos—” one voice said, and the others quickly objected. How peculiar. He was listening now, straining his ear to hear the conversation. 

“Let him rest. He’s done enough for now. He deserves at least one night’s sleep in a real bed before beginning the investigation,” Agnea’s voice said, city accent still present despite her hushed tone. 

“Aye. He has been a stalwart ally, and we would do well to let him rest. We four can handle it,” Hikari agreed. 

“...I dunno. Won’t he be upset if we let ‘im sleep while we do all the work? He seems pretty hellbent on solvin’ this case himself...” Partitio murmured. 

“We will wake him if we find anything of import. This is a small town, it would not take long. Agnea, you ought to be the one to fetch him. You are the smallest of us all, and the quietest. I have faith in your ability to move quickly and without sound,” Crick’s voice said hushedly. Temenos had to commend his little lamb- he was quite good at rationalizing when the need came. 

His companions murmured their agreements, and Temenos heard no more. He presumed they had departed for Lucian’s abode, wherever it may lie in Canalbrine. 

It was much to his chagrin, however, that sleep took him by the throat, pushing him under the waters of dreams once again. 

Once again, he was facing the shapeless god. He could make out but a few figures beside him as he stood fast despite the danger. Partitio, Agnea, and Hikari were all at his side, weapons drawn and spirits unwavering. 

The shapeless god spoke, words incoherent and painful, and he winced. It was so, so painful. The god’s voice sounded like Roi’s, then the pontiff’s, then... Another voice, one that was warbled beyond all hopes of comprehension. The tone sounded familiar, oh so familiar, but he could not place it. The words rang loud in his ears, defeaning him to all else. 

When he woke for the second time, Agnea was shaking him, saying something about a murder. 

GERREBEGEHEAAAAWWAAAAAAAAGH

[chasingrainbcws]

@shiningxfates sent: [ 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ] - sender brushes receiver’s hair (Alastor to Charlie) ↪ the five senses // accepting !

It really can be so difficult to keep such a lengthy, wild mane tamed; her preferred hairstyle is primarily for the purpose of keeping it all out of the way ! But, tempted as she may have been in the past to simply swipe the nearest pair of scissors and chop --- she couldn't bring herself to do it. Wearing her hair long... it reminds her of her Mom. Silky, flowing golden locks --- she remembers burying her face in hair like that when she was just a babe, finding solace in the smell of plumeria and patchouli. She sleeps with her own hair down and loose, now, burying her face in the tresses against the pillows... a subconscious method of self-soothing... but it does tend to leave quite the tangled mess come dawn's first light ! She struggles with the brush as she sits on the plush cushion of the chaise lounge in the parlor, dressed and prim and proper for the day --- save her hair. It was simply impossible to reach it all, but Vaggie had been sleeping so soundly, she hadn't wanted to wake her for help ! So intensely focused is she on her Rapunzel-coded dilemma that she barely notices the figure slithering up from the shadows behind her. She starts slightly at the sensation of the brush being tugged from her ichor-tipped fingers by a tendril of shadow, vermillion eyes turning over a slim shoulder in surprise and confusion --- but the tinny echo of white-noise beneath a familiar voice puts her at ease.

--- Would you like some help, my dear ? He asks oh-so innocently... certainly no hidden agenda behind a simple, friendly offer of assistance !

❝ ... Oh ! Uhm --- sure ! If... you don't mind... ? Thank you, Alastor... ❞

The offer, while seen as kind and admired for its generosity is... well, unlike him, for multiple reasons. She feels a twinge of guilt to doubt him; he may be earnestly trying to be helpful ! But... that isn't his usual modus operandi, as she's come to learn. He never did favors for free... and stranger still, she's noticed his aversion to physical contact. Occasionally there are exceptions (herself being prime example), most often when he initiates the contact himself, as he's doing now... but she still finds it odd. Sweet... but odd.

Even so, she sits still, delicate hands resting in her lap as he gingerly runs the brush through any knotted sections or tangled strands, humming a cheery, old-timey tune as he does so. It's a relaxing feeling... it bring a memory to the surface of her mind --- a sweet little song she'd sing whilst scrawling across a pile of papers on the floor with colorful crayons whilst her Mother brushed her hair as a child... but these are not her Mother's loving hands. These are the claws of a hungry predator carding through her curls. Take heed, little lamb, lest you be caught in the jaws of a wolf.