#the curiosity killed the cat and satisfaction did in fact not bring it back

[newtness532]

i filter certain words here bc i know they're used in posts that will make me feel bad but then i get curious and i click see post anyway and more often than not it's fine because it's a common word that is also used in other types of posts but that builds a false sense of security which makes seeing the posts you didnt want to see so much worse

[archivalofsins]

I am excited to see the T3 sprites of the Prisoners, I've been thinking about how they may look (Yuno w/ different hair? Mikoto w/o restraints? Etc) and wanted to ask you what you thought they may look like for T3

WE GET TO MEET THE KING OF THE MASQUERADE!!!

We get to finally see behind the act- I know you brought up Yuno with different hair and Mikoto without restraints but I saw this ask a day ago and immediately went we finally get to see! He's finally gonna introduce himself- WOOOOOO! Yeah let's meet the king of the masquerade baby!

We did exactly what he asked so I'm expecting a proper introduction.

"Lick that sin and oppose punishment, until you can meet the king of the masquerade."

We opposed punishment alright,

I want to meet him soooo bad. No one has any idea. I'm sooo excited to see him now- I hope he's let it all slip. I wanna hear,

"All those things I wanna do that I can’t say out loud."

I'm soooo happy about it this is why I wanted him innocent this is why i said nothing during his trial. I wanna see sooo bad. The fact that he teased it like that was soooo mean. He was like,

Kazui: You're almost there, you're almost at the finale don't you want to see what happens if you keep indulging my bullshit come on~ Just follow the king of the masquerade.

My ass,

Me: Oh god he made it sound so tempting... My one weakness curiosity. Innocent just innocent him again. No, I don't care that she fell backwards which is more indicative of being pushed than actively choosing to commit suicide. I need to see the whole act okay. We can talk about everything else later. I don't care if he's pulling a pied piper- I don't give a fuck! Fuck it we ball. I'm an adult and I can make bad choices in the comfort of fiction if I want to. I'm gonna shut my mouth not say anything and do whatever I can to get this man innocent.

Kazui,

"Heh, heh got another one."

Well as they say curiosity killed the cat and I don't think satisfaction is gonna bring it back in this case.

But got damn if I'm not gonna be satisfied. All that to say i have no clue how Kazui will look but I am here for it.

Mikoto I expect to be unrestrained. Futa I'm kind of expecting him to not have an eyepatch any longer possibly for his eye to have healed. Since the person to have examined him was Shidou and they may use Futa's eye healing to hint at Shidou's dishonesty/malpractice. I thought Yuno may cut her hair. She may do it to have a style reminiscent to Mahiru's like a way of remembering her. That would be really cool.

I'm hoping and somewhat expecting Amane's hair to have grown out and possibly a uniform change if they decide to show their in real time ages this trial. I don't know which way it will go with her restraints though. I'm thinking there will be some visible injuries on a few prisoners much deeper bruising. Depending on how the deaths happened i.e if there was a struggle or not there could be no visible injuries.

I'm interested in what clothing changes we'll get. I wonder if Mu will still be wearing her jewelry. How Kazui's pants and shoes may change. If Futa will take the hoodie off or change his shoes and pants to fit the salvation thing he's been pushing. I'm wondering if Mikoto will change his hair a slicked back look would be nice.

I'm also interested in the trial three sprite art to see Amane standing up straight again to check her height. Plus I wonder if she'll have her hat back or a new one. Those are just things I'd like. I think to extent we all expect them to look broken up or weathered. Though I expect some of them will be looking as though nothing had happened if not all of them.

It would be interesting if they drew some inspiration from their fourth anniversary funeral art. When it comes to the designs. I'm sorry this isn't much of answer just food for thought. There's so many direction they can take it- It's impossible for me to settle on what would be the most interesting or what I'm expecting.

Since I am really just taking it in stride. I could make some guesses but it would be more so about their demeanors. I'm kind of expecting Mikoto to be a bit cocky similar to how Mu was trial two. Everyone innocent trial one was smiling trial two but Kotoko. However she wasn't really smiling to begin with.

I think it would be interesting to have a few more innocent prisoners not smiling. I could imagine Yuno, Futa, and Amane being the one's not smiling. In contrast I could imagine Kotoko and Mu smiling despite being guilty. Mikoto and Kazui are up in the air for me.

But that's all my thoughts on that. Sorry, again that this wasn't that in depth.

[toons-inkwell]

Misery Loves Company chapter: 6

Warnings:

Words: 1,204

"Lucky" ding "Rabbit" ding "That lucky Oswald rabbit" dink dink "nicest rab–" Oswald suddenly stopped, looking down at his banjo with a raised eyebrow "it shouldn't sound like that, Right?"

"Nope" Felix responded blankly, flipping a page of a book he held "that thing ain't tuned"

"Mmm... Thought so" the buck grumbled, tuning his banjo "this thing never is..."

The cat and rabbit duo rested in the basement beneath the floorboards of a quaint unfinished house in the countryside. Times like these were a rare opportunity for the two, Felix's company forbidding communication with other acting toons and Oswald's not allowing a lot of free time. It didn't matter what obstacle was in their way though, both managed to make their friendship work. The rabbit had cleverly planned out a weekend retreat for the two under the guise of having the cat "help him build his retirement home", Felix of course left out the specifics of who he was helping. If his company knew it was one of his competitors they never would have let him go, but the feline was used to lying to get out of sticky situations. It had become second nature to him, lying just came easy when his entire career was built on hiding who he really was. Which is why currently it felt so strange to him.

It had been a month since he revealed what he really looked and sounded like and while he couldn't take off his mask because of the fuss his manager made about it "slipping off"—as he told him—before, Felix still spoke in his natural voice. The raspy, hoarse, almost smokerish voice that would scare anyone else. It didn't scare Oswald though, in fact the rabbit's ears always perked up cutely each time he spoke. The cat found it strange, a deep bubbling within his chest always rising when the buck listened, but it was the good type of strange. The type of strange he'd never want to give up.

"Say Oz" Felix started, his eyes unmoving from his book "How did ya process me showing off all that I am? I remember you looked like a kid in a candy shop when staring at my face, but there had to be some fear... Right?"

"Hmm?" As usual Oswald's ears twitched, his attention immediately snapping to the cat "uhh... That's a strange question to randomly ask, don'tcha think?"

"I mean, sure it's weird to bring up, I'm just curious is all"

"Well you know what they say Tommy" he leaned in and booped the cat on his faux nose "curiosity is what killed the cat"

Felix wiggled the nose of his mask and shook his head "buuuutttt–" he leaned over, grabbing a hold of Oswald's "satisfaction brought it back"

With a firm tug Felix popped Oswald's nose right off, an empty black hole remaining where it once was.

"HAY!" Oswald shouted all nasally "gimme that back!"

Felix reeled backwards seeing Oswald try and grab his nose back "If you want it back–" he jumped to his feet, holding it above his head "go ahead and take it!"

Oswald followed the cat's lead, dropping his banjo and standing up "you're on Tommy!"

Felix was soon tackled to the ground, the buck grabbing onto him and trying to wrestle his nose away. This was fairly common for the two, a little playful game of keep away involving body parts that could harmlessly detach. Felix only had the power to do it to his tail so he took every chance he could to try and pop something off his friend, finding it cute the way the rabbit's tail always wagged. Even when rolling around on the floor, scraping themselves against the stone and against a few boxes filled with items they were using for the construction, they remained unphased by anything else. Instead it was just the two of them, having fun and giggling while they fought without actually hurting each other. Just like every other time they did it it ended when both physically weren't capable of going on anymore. They huffed and panted, staring up at the ceiling struggling to breath while they continued to giggle.

"Ha-hay Felix?" Oswald gasped "You... You okay?"

"I'm fine" he dismissed with a wave "You good?

Oswald didn't respond. He was still struggling to breath and instead just gave a weak thumbs up for an answer. Honestly that response alone was a sort of a lie since he was more than "just good", he felt alive. Distinct loud beats of his heart was audible in his ears, his pulse much more rapid than what it should have been. It seemed to always get like that when around Felix, whether it was just talking or goofing around and wrestling, it always seemed to race. The little black cotton ball tail of his wagged back and forth dusting off the floor beneath him, another sign of his excitement that was impossible to ignore.

"... Felix?" Oswald finally spoke with his still ragged breaths "do you know what I actually felt when you showed me your face?"

Felix's ears twitched and he looked over to face the buck, a glimmer in Oswald's eyes making it hard to form thoughts "wha... What did you feel Oz?"

"I was happy" Oswald grabbed Felix's hand and squeezed, reassuring the cat there was not for a second any fear "I was happy that you cared enough about me to open up, I don't think I could ask for a better friend"

Felix tensed up, his claws emerging from his fingertips for a split second. The sudden hand holding was... odd. Him and Oswald were very touchy with each other but they never held hands casually so it startled him which made no sense? Oswald would kiss him on the nose and he would return the gesture whenever they had to say goodbye and were in private, so why did the handholding feel so different? Like a fluttering butterfly that strange sensation rumbled through his chest, something like anxiety but... Nice? He couldn't quite put a finger on it but it wasn't the same anxiety he felt whenever his manager spoke to him but rather like something was gently purring.

Oh god—it was Oswald!

Felix had looked up at the ceiling for a second and in that time Oswald had crawled over and rested himself upon the cat's chest. Gentle purrs from the tired buck rumbled throughout Felix's body. His eyes were closed so he didn't doubt that his friend was probably exhausted from all the roughhousing, but this? This was new. All this was new. That fluttering within him, the touching, the constant compliments, none of this was in his life before Oswald came into it. Before he spent the few seconds of free time he had with his faux face crammed in a book to dissociate for a bit. With Oswald though he didn't need to do that. Instead he could actually enjoy this. He could enjoy the feeling of someone who actually cared for him purring on his chest, no doubt probably already asleep.

He could enjoy the fact that as long as he had Oz, he wasn't alone.

[bigassmoonchild]

please enjoy the email i had to send our favourite team because of them being pure gremlins { i have known most of them since i was 18 so 7 years }

just to fluster them the hell out and since im at my main job tonight and cannot do it myself

can we get the 141 ones reactions

{ never thought to request reactions until the latest one about crocheting which i total understand }

this is my third time trying to answer this. both times i initially tried tumblr closed me out of the submission and deleted the entire thing. i will answer all other asks tomorrow 🫶🫶

(also, why is croissant banned? who did what with croissant? and if your team is good, i am always more than happy to write them little drabbles or hcs 😉 )

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

initially, he walked past the medbay door. he briefly saw the sign on the door but didn't think much of it. until he fully registered what it said. spinning around and marching back the way he had come, he pulled it off the door and read it.

fully. he read all of it and had to pause for a few moments to gather his thoughts. what the hell? why did you have to write this? who caused you to write this? he had too many questions that he didn't exactly want answered.

almost worried, but just more confused than anything. simon wasn't entirely sure what to think about the paper, but he knew the only way to figure it out would be through questions. he didn't entirely need them answered, but it would be nice to know. he almost didn't want them answered.

still, simon found himself entering your office and laying the paper down in front of you. your head turned to the side, looking almost flustered at the fact that he had seen the paper. you didn't give an answer, and so he sat down in the chair across from you, staring nearly through you.

sighing deeply, you looked up from the paperwork and gave him a little grimace. 'what?' you asked. simon once more gestured to the paper in front of you.

'what's this?' was all he asked and you looked away again. biting at your lip, you picked it up to read it over. 'stop stalling,' he told you and you heaved a deep sigh.

you didn't make eye contact. 'we've read a book together, my squad 'n i,' you started. 'it made a lot of comments and little quips start. then they started to argue about certain parts of the book and well,' you gestured at the paper.

he nodded slowly in understanding, standing up and grabbing the paper to return it to where he'd found it. turning around, he held it up and raised his brow. 'ghosts medical blower?'

Captain John Price:

the way to the mess hall had him pass by your office, and so he figured he'd bring some paperwork meant for you. kill two birds with one stone, it would be easier than running back and forth later on.

placing the files and others miscellaneous papers down, he nearly missed it. just one quick glance brought all of his attention to one piece of paper, just barely uncovered by other random items strewn across your desk.

The below terms are banned:

and so he read it. curiosity killed the cat, so to speak, but the satisfaction of knowing what this was did not bring it back. all price could do was stare for a few moments, just trying to think through it. and as he thought, he knew he did not want answers.

it was either some new terms and language that people were using but he wasn't caught up on, or it really was just some strange thing within your own squad. either way, he tucked the paper away so that you wouldn't know he saw it.

when you returned to your office, you knew price saw the paper. it was tucked between a few files and some of the papers he'd given you. you wanted to give him answers, you wanted to let him know what it was, but you didn't. maybe he'd come to you, or maybe you'd just moved it without realizing.

he didn't meet your eye for a few days, loking a little worriedly at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

you weren't one to email him. you almost never did, unless it was absolutely important that he be added. so when he opened up his email after a long mission, he found one from you with no subject line.

to be honest, he was a little worried about what it might be. maybe spam? did someone hack your account? he wasn't sure, but gaz wanted to make sure it wasn't anything important.

he almost wishes he didn't read that email. almost wishes he had just left it alone, especially without a subject line. and so when he'd gotten to 'ghosts medical blower' he closed the email and deleted it.

it had to be a joke. he wouldn't admit it, but it made him a little flustered to read some of that stuff. did people really think of his lieutenant like that? especially those working so closely with him?

and he'd found you, in your office typing away. standing awkwardly for a few moments, gaz looked around the room. he wasn't often in your office, especially not regarding these types of situations.

when you'd finally looked up at him, raising your brows expectantly, he could barely get the words out. 'you sent me an email,' was all he could say. you nodded, giving him a confused look.

'i send a lot of people emails, gaz, you need to be more specific,' you told him. he didn't meet your eye, just looked around and nodded slowly.

finally opening his mouth, he gave you a little grimace. 'some terms needed to be banned?' he asked and watched your eyes widen. covering your hand with your mouth, you clicked and tpyed a few things before sighing in relief.

'lord, gaz, that was absolutely not meant for you,' you whispered, clearly flustered and not meeting his eye. 'i am so, so sorry about that,' you looked at him briefly.

he gave you a little smile, finally making eye contact. 'all is forgiven if you tell me what it's about,'

Johnny 'Soap' McTavish:

you were a tough nut to crack. soap spent weeks trying to wear you down to the point where you'd become comfortable enough with him that you would talk with him freely. and when it happened, he was ecstatic.

but he never expected this to happen. you'd handed him a few papers absentmindedly as you walked by him, giving him an affirmative sound when he'd asked if it was for him to read. and so he read them.

when he'd gotten to the one paper, he had to rub his eyes. he was tired, sure it had been a long day, but soap was positive he was dreaming. you would never just give him this paper, not without context.

and so he found you, waving it around in front of your face and giving you a cheeky smile. with a quick glance, you'd jumped up and tried to rip the paper out of his grasp. soap was faster, though, and easily held it out of your reach.

'now what's this, lass, about being ghosts medical blower?' he asked you and you huffed angrily. shoving at his shoulders, you tried harder to get the paper back.

he tsked at you, waiting for an explanation. 'my squad's been reading some weird stuff online, and they're making comments and it's turned nearly into an argument over some things,' you told him. he howled with laughter at that, bending over to catch himself from falling.

you'd snatched the paper from him and turned around. and that's how, for the next four or five weeks, you found yourself at the end of his jokes. all of them seemed to somehow mention some term or phrase mentioned in the paper he'd read.

it took you elbowing him in the stomach and making your own comments about him before he finally put it behind him. soap may have found it and made a copy, which sits hung on on his wall in the flat back home.

[iriswashere]

I just read a re-upload of "Dipper Goes to Taco Bell"

Jfc I'm traumatised. Every line just got worse and worse.

Curiosity killed this cat but satisfaction did not, in fact, bring it back. I'm not gonna get back the time I took to read this fic. I hate it so much I wish I could just take my brain out and rewire it so I can forget I ever read that horrific piece of literature.

I'm not even in the goddamn fandom but I read it anyway

[marleequinnrp]

Meet Marlee

✦ BRITTANY O’GRADY, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ✦ MARLEE QUINN  the TWENTY-SEVEN year old has been in Hidehill for NINE YEARS and was a FRIEND to Lucas Johnson, the missing persons. Whispers on the streets are that the 911 OPERATOR who lives in HIDE SQUARE are said to be ADAPTABLE and NOSY but I guess we’ll find out for ourselves. { MANDY, 36, PST, SHE/HER. }

full name: marlee grace quinn gender and pronouns: cisfemale she/her age and dob: 27 , June 2 1996 residence: hide square time living in hidehill: 9 years occupation: 911 dispatcher faceclaim: Brittany O'Grady positive attributes: adaptable, outgoing, observant negative attributes: nosy, untrusting, indecisive

BACKGROUND

Marlee had what she would describe as a fairly average childhood. Little hurts, the kind anyone and everyone experienced as they aged, graced her life in small waves; getting teased on the playground, that first friendship breakup, the first time a crush didn't like her back. Aside from those staples of youth, however, her existence blossomed in a bed of constant support from her parents. Her favorite book series as a child was called Nate the Great, featuring a child detective solving sometimes silly but always intriguing mysteries in his neighborhood. It became clear that Marlee loved a good mystery more than almost anything else in the world, gravitating towards all the Nancy Drew, Hardy Boys, Scooby Doo content she could get her hands on as a child. Her parents allowed the obsessive curiosity, if only because they thought it might feed into an interest in law or policing. They were fairly disappointed when it became clear that Marlee was a shipwreck when it came to deciding what she wanted to do with her life. There was too much to see, to explore, to ask questions about...how did one just toss their whole self into a finite commitment to one career path for the rest of their life?

When Marlee was 17 her curiosity took her into the attic of their Pennsylvania home. She'd been looking for some of her maternal grandmother's old clothes for a vintage party some friends were throwing. After two hours of rooting through dust covered boxes, she didn't find what she was looking for, but her life was forever changed by what she did find. A box full of newspaper clippings, documentations, a pocket watch and a pair of glasses, pictures of a man who looked to be in his late 20's, early 30's. A mystery...in her own home...in her families belongings. Marlee was immediately consumed, grabbing a photo and bringing it downstairs to show her mother...her mother who became tight lipped and somber. "That's your father's Dad...grandpa George." The family did not speak of her paternal grandparents. She'd inquired once as a child and all she'd been told was that Grandpa George had passed away when her father was only a year old. The box she'd discovered filled in more details to the vague story. This man she'd never met because the most fascinating person in the world...a man who'd gone to a small town in Tennessee for a business trip looking to potentially expand his business...and who had never returned. First missing, then a body found, one of many. Her family...of all families...restlessly tied to a horrific serial homicide.

Her parents didn't understand her intrigue. In fact they were increasingly uncomfortable every time Marlee brought it up. Even more so when she said she wanted to put college on hold and do some traveling...first stop a small town in Nashville. At 18 years old, made of nothing but youthful curiosity and impulses not yet able to be filtered through a fully formed frontal cortex, Marlee found herself in Hidehill. It was fascinating, the town seeming to be making toddling unsteady steps towards reclaiming a normal rhythm, but the scars of its past were there to see if you were looking for them. Marlee had only meant to stay for maybe a month; curiosity killed the cat but satisfaction brought it back. Instead she found herself falling in love with area, the rural farms mixed with a hint of city grit, the story of a city experiencing tragedy and trudging on. Marlee's parents tried to talk her out of it for a good six months, but lost the battle as she signed a lease for a cute little studio apartment in Hide Square, got herself a job as a 911 dispatcher. That was the career meant for her; so many mysteries, so many flashing moments of intrigue she got to partake in with faceless voices on the other line. For the first time in her life she felt content to be still, to settle just a little, ready to poke her nose about any little mysteries that might come her way.

[sassyteatimeinquiries]

Around this time last year, I was playing Baldur's Gate 3. I did not know much DnD lore until playing the game and doing some research. When I got to the second chapter and we were in the shadow-cursed Lands, did I learn more about Shar. The more I learned, the more I hated her. Just her, not he worshippers. They seemed more like lost children following a self-destructing god. And Shar well she a liar who simply desired oblivion. Apparently angered by the fact that others found that others did not view existent as she did, wanted destruction. I do not believe she believes what she tells her followers. They are in fact a means to an end. This thought brought about the thought of what would one of my oc's think of this. One of my dimension walker's come to see the place she has only seen as a player playing a video game. What would she think. What would she feel. What would she do. And so I wrote Shar Crazes Oblivion. It is very short and in second person but here it is after nearly a year.

Shar Crazes Oblivion

You had never seen her cry, or at least cry like this. Her knees cracking into the pebbled and cobble roaded ground. Tears streaming. Face twisted in pain and rage. Jaw shaking with fragile breath. Clutching the shadow orb to her chest. A memory making the last bits of a person. Who had so much ahead of them. Time left. A thing you knew from the words of others that meant something deeply to her. A thing written on the skin. A thing written in a language you may speak. This was a mistake. You and her should have never come here. Curiosity killed the cat but this time satisfaction was not bringing it back. It was left abandoned with other old bones no one dared to touch. Bones that laid at her feet and knees as she mourned for people she did not know and the lives they never would be able to live. Mourning that changed tone as you watched her tilt her head to the blackened sky away from the moon. To part sealed lips to speak to someone unknown. 

“You craze oblivion,” words she spoke in a soft crackled tone. Dripped and dressed in rage and hatred. “Then Go. And find it, and—” Her face dips from the sky. She pauses. Cradles the lost life to her cheeks. And from shaking lips tumbled the last words soft like velvet and all for the dead, “And—, touch nothing else.”

[aladaylessecondblog]

Faal Hah Wuld, Chapter 13

TW: Blood drinking, our boy Voryn--er, I mean, Torovan, is thirsty

------------------

*nothing is written on the page, but there are several things drawn with a shaky hand. Lines drawn toward but not quite reaching an empty central point, a dim lit cave entrance with a ruined wooden door, and a faceless figure bleeding from a gaping chest wound where part of a lung can be seen--but no heart*

------------------

It had been an accident. Just a slip of his hand when he was taking the bottle from Snow's saddlebag, but despite what was responsible the fact still stood: Torovan was out of blood. He'd refused to stoop to drinking it off the floor--but his need was clear, his hunger evident.

"Take my blood. We've stopped for the night anyway." Sadrith said. It was strange, she knew better than to chance it--but still, she was deadly curious. What did being fed from feel like?

Curiosity killed the cat...but satisfaction brought him back.

"I told you, I don't want your blood." Torovan practically snarled the words, but from the slight shake of his hands Sadrith could tell he was tempted. "Suppose I take too much?"

"I trust you."

Torovan fixed her with a somber look.

"You shouldn't." He paused, and looked over his shoulder, as if at something far away. "You truly shouldn't."

"It's either this or I try to go out and get a rabbit or a deer. That could take time we don't have. I'd rather not come back to find you've drained my horses dry."

She could see that he was struggling to give her another denial. Despite the self-control that had marked him since they'd left Winterhold...maybe he didn't trust himself not to drain her entirely?

Still, Sadrith persisted. She saw no reason why someone with so large a stick up his ass would have trouble controlling himself.

"Take mine," she insisted, "I've already eaten, I'm comfortable, and it'll probably put me right to sleep. You know healing spells, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

The huff she waited for didn't come. When she looked in his direction she saw his lips pressed tightly together. He shut his eye and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Fine." There was a pause where he seemed to struggle with what to say before finally going with, "You should lay down...as you'll become dizzy. Get comfortable. And...loosen your tunic's collar."

Sadrith moved a little closer to the fire. She'd already taken off her armor in preparation to sleep, so loosened her collar as Torovan asked--and waited. He knelt beside her and then leaned down, bracing himself with one arm. She looked to one side--

"Are you sure?" Torovan asked, his lips inches away from her neck.

"I'm sure."

Could you even stop if I said no now?

It was like a pair of tiny daggers in her neck, that bite, and as the blood began to flow Sadrith heard Torovan growl. The pain faded swiftly into a strange numbness, and an almost thrilling feeling of her blood racing through another's veins.

His hand came up, almost cradling her head--his tongue working furiously, throat gulping as quickly as he could get it into his mouth. Feasting, guzzling, like he hadn't seen blood in weeks.

Though Sadrith's heart was racing, her mind was still--not in the way the sword made it, but a beautiful silence. There was no typhoon of thoughts to sort through, no sea of endless fog to fight.

Only a simple subtle command, barely a thought and more of an instinct.

yield your blood

The numbness spread...soothing, calming.

And then--a bewildering flash of images before her eyes. Images, connected to feelings, connected to--

Darkness, with a leaping patch of red-hot light, and a feeling of terrible loneliness.

Mechanical pulsing, stone walls ribbed with white. Blood. Pain.

Purple skies, desperate breathing. Joy, pure JOY

Then, pain. Sadrith struggled to bring her hand to her chest unknowingly. A cramp ran through her chest, tightening, spasming--then searing agony, like it was being clawed open--!

Cold air on her neck, the sound of cursing in her ears. Then, trembling--Torovan's heavy breathing, and the warm glow of a healing spell. After a minute or two Sadrith's vision started to clear.

"Wh't happened?" she mumbled.

He didn't answer.

"Torovan..."

Sadrith sat up, expecting her head to be swimming, her vision still blurry as she got up. Perhaps some dizziness.

But she felt none of that. Her vision was entirely clear, and she saw Torovan, hunched over with one red-grey hand clamped over his mouth as he stared at the ground.

"Are you ill? Did my blood make you sick?"

"We." he forced out, "Are NOT. Doing that. AGAIN."

She was still confused, and kept watching him. "I don't understand. Tell me what happened?"

There was now no lingering pain. A thin veil of trust, a surety that he was worrying over nothing. He feared he would kill her, he didn't, no pain or symptom remained, so her mind was wandering. The only doubts now in her mind were of what she'd seen when he was feeding on her. Was that normal, when one was being bitten by a vampire? Had HE seen something?

She decided not to ask. Supposing he hadn't, this might make her look strange.

"I nearly KILLED you, that's what!" Torovan barked at her. "I told you--warned you--"

"You didn't. I'm FINE," she waved dismissively, "It's just blood, you...you healed me up right."

"You were clutching your chest and groaning about your heart, I don't call that FINE!" He looked back at her, fixing her with a hard glare, a look that made her shrink back. "Why must you be so dismissive of danger? Are you STUPID?"

"I killed the World-Eater, I'm not scared of being sucked dry." Sadrith lay back on the bedroll, and reached up to touch over the place he'd bitten her. "I didn't expect you to take so much, but..."

"I should have remembered your...dragon blood. It...it was..." His hands shook for a moment. "I'm glad the vampire problem is largely taken care of. If they knew what you tasted like--"

Torovan immediately shut his mouth after saying it.

"How about we change the subject?" she asked. "Sort of. Are you sated?"

"Yes. Perfectly so. That's the problem."

Torovan would say no more on the issue, and instead changed the conversation to replenishing their supplies. Sadrith suggested a stop in Riverwood, and he agreed.

[never-surrender]

She bristles a little at the feeling of being berated like a child... not directly at him, of course, she was certain he didn't intend to come off as he did, but it was no different from how her family treated her. It left her feeling stupid for voicing an opinion of hers... and she was sick of feeling put down by everybody and anybody.

None of this comes to fruition, however, as his tone drops and he voices the fact that the eyes belonged to somebody else. Curiosity killed the cat, it would seem...

Would satisfaction bring this one back?

"Who did they belong to?" she asks gently, moving forward now to close the distance between them. "Also, a simple 'I don't want to take them off' would have sufficed back there..." she can't help the gentle tease, a small smile tugging at her lips as she comes to a stop beside the rock.

"You're right, you are lucky I'm staying in the water at all." He shakes his head.

"It's called not wanting to be identified in a line up. Sure, I'm pretty good at keeping out police stations, but hunters pass around their own information. I don't need to outed for the color. On top of that, I'm sure you've noticed by now in low lighting, they catch an inhuman glare. Catches easy on security cameras, especially at night." He shrugs.

"I like what I've made for myself and I'd prefer not to have to lose what I have." He sighed through his nose, not wanting to admit it, but maybe she'd drop the subject. "Besides, these in particular belong to someone." Del's tone makes it obvious it's deeper than just aesthetic.

"That's all you need to know." He finds himself a spot to perch on a large underwater rock, half sitting on it as much as he is floating just above it.

[gia-is-a-punk-rocker]

Looking up weirdcore was a mistaken

[caliginousarchitect]

Vongola 10th generation squad (+Byakuran and Kyoko) based on @bonesetblues​‘s KHR/BNHA crossover curiosity kills the cat (but satisfaction brings it back)

As yet in the fic only Tsunayoshi and Byakuran have actual established cat forms, so I was like,,, WHEEEE Tsuna I did him as a cinnamon classic tabby longhair. Not actually doing him as a Norwegian Forest Cat, but I did base his facial structure on one a bit. (And it is quite funny to envision him going from being one of the smallest of his agemates to having a good kilo on them) Byakuran Longhair, high white spotting over lilac (with a carried point gene because even carried it can affect the eyes sometimes). Also wings. He came out kinda Eh sadly, I think Hayato Mediumhair blue silver spotted mackerel tabby. Something about him gave me spotted tabby vibes (and hey, kinda a shoutout to Uri), and I got to make his facial markings be a shourout to his glasses. Takeshi Shorthair black solid, very low white spotting. Homozygous for Japanese Bobtail (fun fact, Japanese Bobtail is a Partial Dominance gene- with only one JB gene, the cat has a shorter than normal kinked tail instead). I actually concluded that Bobtail was a very fun idea for Takeshi, because it’d make him a lot harder to read. You can’t really see the emotions the tail would convey if the tail is that short, after all; like how Takeshi generally gives off cheerful vibes all the time, shrouding his actual thoughts. Kyoya Black solid mediumhair, with very oriental-type build and head structure. Lambo Did him as a kitten because, well. him young. Gave him Laperm-type curled fur, since Lambo has fairly curly hair (he’d be medium or longhair, but, well, kittenfluff) and curled ears (to reference his lightning horns). Black solid with medium white spotting forming patches to reference his general cow theming. Chrome Blue solid shorthair (pale/light blue). Gave her some white hairs to indicate scars because,,, how, exactly, did she end up losing an eye and internal organs and not have scars? (even if the accident didn’t leave any somehow, surely there were medical proceedures at some point that would have?) Mukuro Blue solid mediumhair (dark blue). You know, I didn’t realise his other eye was blue until right now? (Although I’m a manga reader so) Also his Eye of Reincarnation is drawn in its third path, Path of Beasts, because I Thought It Was Funny. Ryohei Shorthair blue silver classic tabby with extreme ticking and rufousing, and a little white spotting. I actually have other incarnations of Ryohei. Still a bit iffy on how our attempt at his markings/colouration came out here. (alternate version that can’t be put here because of image limit is a red tabby with very high white spotting, with his red patches being in more unusual spots than you’d usually have, and slightly higher rufousing than Kyoko)

Kyoko Longhair red classic tabby with extreme ticking and less extreme rufousing than her brother, and low white spotting on her nose. (have an alternate version is the same but just, classic tabby instead of ticked classic tabby, but again, don’t have the image allowance to put that in this post) Other characters who we are considering doing: Xanxus- gives me real strong longhair/ medium-high rufousing / black classic tabby vibes. Probably built like a maine coon. Big beefy boy. Squalo- It’d be kinda funny to have him be a shorthair? Just because imagining how he’d flip out given the reason he has longhair is mildly amusing. Blue silver broken mackerel tabby to go for shark gill/scale vibes. Maybe some white spotting? Reborn- author of the fic thinking melanistic serval, me over here going “would a black savanna cat or a very small black cat be funnier?” Like, a savanna cat is 100% going to cause chaos, they’re leggy and they’re a hybrid breed that’s still using the rather unfortunate wild ancestors (unlike Bengals which are now a... what’s it called, a fixed breed? and no longer use their progenitor species) so the non-domestic genes are still very much there. A savanna is tall enough to open your doors easily. But on the other hand, having a tiny black thing doing all the same things despite the size IS very funny to think about. Expected vs unexpected chaos, I guess? those are the only other ones that really wandered through my mind while I was doing these, but maybe others will in time

[diavolosthots]

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(*´∇`)ﾉ can you do a reaction of the brothers inhaling helium for the first time? Like them having a mini heart attack because they don't know for how long it going to last while the Mc (& maybe Solomon if you want) is laughing their ass off watching them

(You don't have to do this if you don't want too & it's ok if you don't, I just thought that it might be fun for you to do some crack lol but take care of yourself & tanks breaks when you need too!!!>_< have a nice day/night too!!) (*´▽`)ﾉ

Man this is the first and only "break" I'll be taking over the next 24 hours so i might as well do this 😔 maybe death will find me in my sleep (joke I'm just sleep deprived and have too much on my plate)

THE BROTHERS reacting to inhaling Helium 

Lucifer: 

He never thought he’d fall for such a silly prank. How did Satan get him to agree to this? And now his voice is all high and squeaky and Lucifer would be lying if he said he wasn’t mildly freaking out and definitely punishing Satan for such nonsense. Right now he’s more concerned with getting his normal voice back though because the more he yells at Satan with this voice, the more the fourth born laughs and Lucifer’s seriously thinking about cursing the guy. 

Mammon:

Man, listen. Everyone was talking about it and Mammon couldn’t be left out. Nevermind the fact that he never realized WHAT exactly everyone was talking about. Now he has a squeaky voice and everyone’s laughing at him, including you! Do you know how embarrassing that is?! MC! Fix it!! Yes. Fix it MC. Give him some more. 

Leviathan:

Haha y’all think he hasn’t heard of this? Man, he’s seen it in AT LEAST one anime. At least. If anything, Levi is doing this because he wants to. He thinks it’s funny and he thinks people will also find him funny. Sadly they’re laughing at him and not with him. But you know what? He might sulk about it for a while but he’ll continue to inhale helium in his room and have like a whole roleplay with himself lol

Satan:

See, curiosity killed the cat. Satisfaction did NOT bring it back, not this time. The prankster got pranked and although he isn’t freaking out per se, he IS very angry and that makes things worse. He’s literally red in the face right now from all the shrill yelling at everyone, who can’t seem to stop laughing. You ever seen an angry demon with the voice of a 3 year old girl? Yeah. Now you have.

Asmodeus:

His voice is naturally high pitched and he takes pride in that. It makes him feel in touch with his feminine side and he likes that, so honestly he’s not really freaking out either. Homie is singing at the top of his lungs and imagining what his album cover will look like, not worrying whether or not it will go away. Spoiler: he’s upset when it does. 

Beelzebub:

Man, he’s so easy to target too. Beel just does things without really thinking about it. All it took was a “Beel, can you hold this?” and homie ate the helium balloon and now his voice is all high and somewhat annoying and he’s pouting and sad and why is everyone laughing? You’re laughing too which makes him feel even worse. Will it go away? Will you stop laughing? So many questions to be answered, after people calm down.

Belphegor:

Here’s a little unknown fact: he’s down to try everything at least once, if caught at the right moment. So yeah he’s inhaling that but you won’t really hear much out of him because he’s just falling back asleep. Notices it only when he hums in response to you and now he’s awake and annoyed. What the hell is this? MC explain yourself. Will it go away? Depending on your answer (man don’t be too mean to him), he may just go back to sleep lol. 

[yuichiroswife]

✠ — PEOPLE ALWAYS SAID THAT CURIOUSITY KILLED THE CAT. And that satisfaction always happened to bring it back. It was safe to say that those supposed saying were completely wrong, because while curiosity maybe have killed the cat, satisfaction surely did not bring it back — just as the satisfaction of knowing what was within this dreadful house's basement wouldn't bring all of those who have died back, no matter how much one wanted. Nothing could bring back the dead. Nothing at all. It didn't matter how much one cried or screamed. The dead were dead and there was no changing that evident fact. A fact that poor Mikaela had learned all too well at such a tender age, but that fact was what kept him alive this long, what made him keep his guard up in any situation he was thrown into — now if only he had actually remembered that lesson long before he had wandered into the decrepit structure.

✠ — White gloved hand move slowly against old floorboards, GRABBING DESPERATELY FOR SOME KIND OF SUPPORT. It wouldn't do any good, especially when his head was still spinning, vision still hopelessly blurred — all thanks to the way he was forcibly shoved against the large table, knocking all oxygen from his lungs previously. Yet that didn't stop him from trying to stand back up. After all, he needed to gather his bearing in order to be able to properly escape this hell. He had to think about his options though, or at least... think as best as he could with his oncoming headache. Though he's unable to do such a thing, not when he feels the other sudden crawl on top of him. Just the sheer amount of added weight onto the blonde's body makes him wheeze harshly against the floor. No, he was beginning to panic, beads of sweat continue to form against the shorter's forehead as he most pathetically lifts his gaze, sharp butterfly knife pressed oh so snugly against his lips — only allowing him to usher just a shill yet breathy whine.

✠ — "W... Wait, you don't have to—" He tries his best to plead with him despite the knife's placement.

✠ — THAT ONE WORD IS OH SO LOUD IN HIS MIND, even if only a simple hush, it's more than enough to render him helpless. It reminded him all too much of his own father's gentle hushing before a beating — the calm before the storm. Breath hitches within his throat when he feels the knife shift, causing a surging wave of emotions to rush over him like a tidal wave, especially after catching the other's gaze, filled with nothing but an endless sea of darkness that held an everlasting grip around his throat. He listens silently to the raven's words, wondering if he should try and grab hold of the knife... use it against the other somehow, but the sudden heavy tone of a single word ceases that thought process all together — instead it leaves him on the brink of tears, threatening to spill down his cheeks. Feeling both uncomfortable and desperate, all he can do is simply nod as the other wants, sealing his own fate much like an animal in a cage.

yuichiroswife​:

✠ || Sometimes feigning ignorance was safer than acknowledgement, and in the situation of stumbling into a basement filled with death, he figured this to be the best option for the time being, at least until he could escape — carefully, quietly — that way he wouldn’t draw unneeded attention. That’s right, he couldn’t draw attention. He had to be oh so careful with the things he said, otherwise the putrid smell of death and blood would be the least of his worries. Mikaela simply had to play his cards correctly. That is, if he even had any cards to actually play. Ah, how very frustrating. If only he hadn’t come to this place, if only he hadn’t walked inside, if only he hadn’t gone into the basement.

✠ || Oh, how very careless of him.

✠ || The light shove causes him to glance back, watching as the taller man closes the door with a slam before locking the door, most likely to prevent him from heading back down. Looking ahead, he sees something — though he can’t make out what — and he’s almost compelled to try and follow it, but he does no such thing. He didn’t need to get lost. No, he didn’t need to dig a deeper hole. Yet it doesn’t matter what he does in the end, because it doesn’t take long before he’s grabbed oh so suddenly, and pretty much slammed into a rather large table, unable to even make a single sound before falling onto the floor.

✠ || Dizziness, it begins to take over his body once he lands on the floor’s cold surface, vision spinning as he tries his best to steady himself. Hands looking for something to grab. But alas, all he can manage to do is grasp at the floor and try to push himself up, only to feel the sudden pain of a boot colliding with his ribcage, ripping a loud cry from his lips. Oh how he felt as if he couldn’t breathe, gasping desperately for any oxygen he could get, a thin trail of saliva trickling down the corner of his mouth, “G… Get away… fr… from me…”

𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄.  it’s  just  so  interesting  how  quickly  people  change  their  minds.  one  second  they  are  all  about  ‘  respectful  ‘  cooperation,  &  another,  by  pushing  a  knife  deep  into  your  back   ────  you  simply  can’t  trust  any  of  them,  you  see?  this  entire  world  is  that  wretched.  rotten.  dirty.   &  this  is  perhaps  also  why  the   ‘  red  butterfly-room  ‘    even  exists.   envy  can’t  begin  to  count  the  amount  of  people  that  tried  to  get  beneath  his  skin….

❝   you  are  disgusting!!!!  rot  in  hell!!!  ❞    some  would  scream,  ❝   i-i’m  so  sorry,  i  won’t  do  it  again…  please…  p-please ──   ❞   while  the  others  begged  &  cried,  only  to  reach  for  the  first  available  weapon.  it  all  amounted  to  the  same  old  thing.  after  all,  none  of  them  ever  cared  as  to  why  he’s  like  this  or  why  he  choses  to  do  the  things  he  does.  it’s  always  about  ‘  them, ‘   you  know?  he’d  sincerely  be  disgusted  or  even  annoyed  if  he  had  a  heart  but,  he  doesn’t.  mika’s  series  of  never-ending  contradictions  are  just  like  any  other  to  him.  so,  leaning  over,  the  young  serial  killer  crawls  right  on  top  &  most  gently  brushes  the  tip  of  his  knife  against  his  quivering  lips,  silencing  their  flesh.

         ❝   shhhhh…..   ❞

those  commanding  words  are  simply…  much  too  loud.     ❝   shhhhh…..  ❞    he’d  sincerely  hate  to  slit  his  throat.   ❝   that’s  quite  enough  of  that….  ❞   smiling  a  little  wider  now,  the  young  serial  killer  watches  him  with  a  mixture  of  intrigue  &  madness,  all  the  while  repositioning  the  knife  just  so  it’s  located  between  the  lips  rather  than  ‘pon  them.  ❝   i  shall  ask  you….   again….   ❞    he  whispers,  the  tone  heavily  implementing  the  ‘  again  ‘  part;   ❝   are  you  going  to  join  us…  for  dinner?  ❞   sliding  the  side  of  the  knife  even  deeper,  mika’s  fangs  are  forced  to  hook  over  the  serrated  steel.   ❝   nod…..  if  yes…   ❞

[mellow-em]

Bittersweet Temptations

CHAPTER 2

[special dt @bluewingedangel <3]

Your neighbors, Nathan and Elena, have been friends with your parents for years. Whether it’d be family gatherings or vacations, they were around; they were family. But when you return home from your final years of college, what will happen when you find that it isn't just them living in the house next door anymore?

_____________________________________

The afternoon sun brought in a relaxing mixture of natural light from the windows, but I wasn’t even remotely focused on it.

My right leg was bouncing hastily under the kitchen table while I prodded my salad with a fork. I tossed a particularly small carrot around in the bowl, swirling it around the sea of other vegetables.

“Are you gonna eat that or play around with it sweetie?” The sound of my mothers voice raced right through one ear and out the other one.

I only sighed in response, and leaned the side of my head on my hand, not bothering to look up at either of my parents that sat across from me.

They urged me to consistently have family meals with them today, in an attempt to dine on the experiences I had away at college. If they’d asked me to do this at any other time, I wouldn’t mind.

But my head was clouded by something else; or should I say by someone else.

Last night refused to escape my line of thinking. Even after it all went down, I went back to bed to try and fall back asleep, but it was absolutely no use.

The cunning quirk of his lips as he smirked back at me was an image that glued itself to the front of my brain. I reeled around in bed until sunrise, unable to silence my thoughts regardless of any persistence. So as of now, I was beyond exhausted.

“y/n? Are you alright?”

I jump faintly in my chair, with my fathers words pulling me away from my cogitation of the man from the pool, “I’m um.. I’m fine, sorry.”

I gave them a toothless smile as reassurance, but by the exchange of looks they both gave each other, they didn’t seem too convinced.

I shifted uncomfortably, and stabbed the carrot I was messing with. I slowly bring it towards my mouth, finally having the compulsion to take a bite.

Until the man’s wink decided to project in front of me, as if I was experiencing the whole ordeal all over again.

I abruptly dropped the fork into the bowl, resulting in a reverberating clash that not only startled my parents, but it startled me back into reality again.

“Jesus y/n, what’s gotten into you?”

I’m asking that same question, mom.

“Nothing, I uh- think I’m just tired,” the excuse flew out of my mouth in a panic, “I’m just.. I’m gonna go shower for the party later.”

I hurriedly sprung from my seat, and scurried up the stairs to the bathroom.

“Well that was smooth, dumbass,” I muttered out in the open, while slamming the door behind me.  

That son of a bitch is driving me crazy, and I haven’t even had a single conversation with him.

I take a few steps into the bathroom, placing both of my hands on opposite sides of the sink, leaning over with my body weight. With my head bowed down to the direction of my feet, I suspired deeply.

This was stupid. The brief interaction was embarrassing, yes, but with how I reacted today during lunch, especially when the party was happening later on today..

I just needed to stop thinking about what happened last night.

Act like it didn’t happen.

It didn’t happen.

____________

Turmoil carried on in the form of muffled conversations, and distinct bass from the speakers on the lower levels of the house. Even being upstairs in my room, the walls weren’t thick enough to block the noise that derived from the party.

Of course, my dad’s annual excuse backfired, and instead of the party being fairly small, it was as big as the rest of the parties we've had in the past. Although I really shouldn’t be surprised, knowing this really has carried on for 10 years at most.

As of now, I could only assume that the booze was already out for everyone, and by the end of the night, I could guarantee that almost half the people here will be drunk. It reassured me though, especially when I’ll probably end up being one of those people.

I could use a little alcohol in my system; to let myself go a little bit.

While fixing the straps of my white sundress, I looked at myself in the mirror, making sure any scraps of exhaustion were not visible on my features. Despite longing for a few hours of rest, I knew for a fact that I wasn’t going to get much yet again.

With satisfaction, I back away from my vanity, and start for the door that barricaded me from the chaos.

The exchanges of laughter became much more pronounced as I slowly opened the door, and traveled down the hall. My feet carried me towards the stairs, shaking from the rumble of the speakers seeping through the walls and floors.

It was a blessing that the noise didn’t affect our neighbors enough for them to make complaints; but that was mostly because they were all here.

With each step down the flight, more of the party overtook my vision. Guests were dispersed amongst every room as far as I could see, gathering around each other in hopes of starting conversation over the music. It had been fairly crowded to say the least.

Immediately after I make it to the ground floor, I’m bombarded by my mother.

“Hey honey, Nathan and Elena are outside if you want to say hello to them!” her slightly raising her voice didn't really help much, with us being right next to the speakers. But I nodded letting her know I understood.

Turning away from her, I then faced the crowd of people in front of me. I start to weave my way through, making slight pauses along the way to thank them for coming. Most of the people around me had a slight stench of beer already, making me scrunch my nose; that smell is definitely going to linger afterwards.

Eventually making it to the door, I slide it open and step out, letting the freshness of the outside air fill my senses. I quickly noticed the difference between the outdoors and the impeded aura from inside the house. It felt like I was finally able to breathe.

After shutting the sliding door behind me, I strolled away towards the yard.

I made sure to make a slight detour to the cooler to grab myself a beer though, rashly cracking it open as soon as I got my hands on one. I take a swig while observing the guests around me.

As soon as I saw a familiar head of blonde hair a few yards away, I could feel myself smile widely. I hadn’t seen Nate or Elena in four years, and being back home now is making me realize how much I missed them.

The both of them had moved into the neighborhood about a year after my family, and that was over 15 years ago. Ever since then, they hit it off more than you could imagine.

They had all gotten so close to one another, that they’d have annual dinners together, game nights and tag along on all of our family trips. They would even bring in their ideal vacation spots up to us, which evolved into us traveling to entirely different countries most of the time.

While Elena and my mom went to any beach they could find, and my dad found the bar, Nathan really wanted to drag me along to the historical landmarks and teach me about everything he knew. It made our relationship blossom, and now I considered him my second father.

Plus, because of him I began to develop an endless love for history.

I liked it so much that I made the decision to go to college for it. Nathan’s reaction when I told him before I left was something for the cover of a photo album, and I just knew already that a million questions were going to arise when I got to them.

I stepped down from the deck, and walked towards them with my lips still curled in a smile.

As I made it closer to them though, my gaze became hazy. With my brows contorting, my confused demeanor became more visible with every footstep I made closer to Nate and Elena.

There was another man wrapped into their conversation. He was taller than the other two, especially Elena. I noticed his hair slicked back ruggedly, from above the others’ heads. Though, I still couldn’t get a proper look at his face yet.

I turned my direction slightly to discreetly see who my neighbors were conversing with. My curious nature was overriding my body.

I should have just listened to that universally cliche phrase.

Curiosity did kill the fucking cat, and I wish it would just kill me now.

From here, I had a clear view of his face. He stood there listening to Nate’s banter, with a cigarette wedged between his lips.

The lips I had been staring at the night before, along with the rest of him.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

By this point I would’ve  been repeating my annual habit of staring in place. But  fortunately, I turned on my heal sharply to try and escape.  

“Oh my god y/n?” My breath hitched while Elena's voice rang out towards me.

Well great.

I held that particular breath in as I turned my body once more to face her. My warm smile returned to my face, but a layer of embarrassment and panic riddled beneath the surface.

“Elena, it’s so good to see you,” I went over and wrapped my arms around her carefully, keeping her baby bump in mind, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she returned the hug, leaning close to my ear, mumbling, “especially when I’ve had to deal with him all alone. I swear sometimes I really question whether the pregnancy hormones are hitting me or him harder.”

I look over at Nate for a quick second, stifling a laugh while I let go of Elena. The two of us continued laughing faintly, certainly gaining the attention of Nate.

“What are you two laughing about? What’d I do this time?” Nate looked genuinely perplexed, which made it funnier.

“Oh nothing, Nate,” Elena and I looked at each other, smirking as she spoke.

Even with Elena and I’s pleasant interaction, that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach just wouldn’t quit. I just knew he was watching my every move.

Especially, when in the corner of my eye, I watched his travel with me as I went to give Nate his hug.

“It’s good to have you back, Crash.”

Hearing the nickname took me away from my thoughts on the man behind me for a moment, and made my smile lift. 

“It’s been too long, Aku.”

We stayed this way for a few more seconds, until I feel him pat my back. I let my arms fall away from him, and return to my spot in front of them.

I then feel my head slowly turn over to the unknown one of the three; well to me he was unknown. 

“So who’s this?” I cross my arms in front of me, anticipating an answer from one of them.

But silence continued to radiate around us. 

They all stood there, exchanging looks with one another, making me raise one of my brows. While awaiting a response I decided to take a long sip of my beer, feeling the cold liquid slide down my throat. 

That is, before Nate finally spoke up, “Y/n, this is Sam,” he paused, and I could see the hesitation written all over him, “Sam Drake.”

I almost choked on my beer as soon as I heard the last name. I thought for a solid minute that my eyes were going to fall out of their sockets. 

“Is this your-” I pointed between the both of them.

“He’s my older brother.” Nate finishes my sentence, as he scratched at the back of his neck. 

My face fell even more if it was even possible.

Wait.

Nate was in his early forties to begin with, so that would make Sam…

I looked at Sam’s face intensely again, specifically at the wrinkles that were tainted across his face. Now that my brain was functioning properly, unlike last night, I noticed how many there really were. 

Great. Not only was I checking out Nathan’s BROTHER, but the man that was more than twice my age.

Fuck.

[lazarettta]

Misthios III

Characters (Mother Miranda, Alcina Dimitrescu, Reader)

Word count (2k)

Rating (T)

Warning (straight zooted, none)

Countess Dimitrescu takes you home.

Any mistakes you find, blame it on the herbs.

Only taking a few steps from your holding cell, you were startled with what awaited you.

You weren't sure what to expect when you were about to meet Lady Dimitrescu but what you got wasn't on the top of your list; her inhuman beauty or her height. She was taller than tall and for a split second you actually gawked at the woman before remembering yourself and thankfully your jaw snapped shut inaudibly but she'd already caught you.

“This is (Y/n), take her to your castle and keep her there until I call.” You frowned at her words, you weren't some goddamn pet to keep and she had another thing coming if she thought that you were just going to sit around twiddling your thumbs. Miranda stopped next to the tall woman near the door and a small torch light, “Not a scratch, Alcina.”

“Of course, Mother Miranda.” She seemed amused and she clearly wasn't as human as she portrayed herself to be. You'd place a bet wagering that she is one of the myths you haven't yet tracked down...but which one?

Miranda didn't spare you another glance and she was gone within a blink of an eye, leaving you two alone, you cleared your throat bringing the woman's honey eyes to you again. “But you will refer to me as lady Dimitrescu.”

Keeping up with Alcina's long strides down the dreary pathway wasn't an easy feature especially given that the hallway itself was narrow and you didn't really have any interest in touching the walls. They were wet but it did not look or smell like water. Eventually the woman came to a stop, right in front of an iron door that turned out to be an elevator shaft—a bit like the ones used when mining was still a thing.

Prison cells in some abandoned underground mining tunnels, Miranda? Always so dark and mysterious...

The silence between you both was thick and a bit awkward and you could feel her caution and curiosity rolling off of her in waves and you knew that she was occasionally glancing at you because you were doing the same thing while you both waited for the elevator shaft to come down. This place just continued to get more and more curious—what other wonders was this village in the mountains hiding away from the rest of the world? But you were quick to chastise yourself for the thought, curiosity always killed the cat, (Y/n)...

“Yes,” her voice was low and deep this time opposed to the thunderous tone she was using earlier, “but satisfaction brought it back.”

You hadn't been aware that you spoke out loud. Having allowed yourself to be distracted with your thoughts that you failed to take notice of how much more observant the other woman became towards you the minute you both loaded onto the old shaft. Though the old thing hardly made a sound under lady Dimitrescu's weight despite the fact that in order to enter she had to duck a little for herself and her large brimmed hat.

Shoving your hands in your pocket, you turned slightly to look up at her making sure to keep your eyes above those pearls wrapped around her pale neck and accenting that decolletage—no doubt purposely done. “Ah, I haven't had that recited back to me in a very long time.”’

“Then you’re not keeping the right company.”

Your mouth twitched around a smile before you schooled it away, “That would be true if I actually had any friends...or family.”

Lady Dimitrescu raised an eyebrow, not that you’d see it because of her hat casting a shadow over a majority of her face, “Handsome thing like you without friends or family? Doubtful. Surely you have someone waiting for you? You seem like the type to have a maiden or two at your feet.”

This time you couldn’t push back your smile, you knew that she was fishing for some answers about your character—and no doubt trying to figure out why Miranda thought you were special enough to be placed under her word of protection, as if you actually needed it.

But that was all fine because you’d do the same thing, in fact you already were but you’d give her something—an inevitable piece of information that will come to light soon enough. She was already suspicious so it really was just a matter of you beating her to the punchline.

“Nope, none of the above. People just have this pesky little habit of dying on me.”

She chuckled, low and deep and you felt it a bit (and fuck was this the longest elevator ride you’ve ever been on), “Oh I know of that nuisance all too well myself.”

“Do you now?”

“Oh quite dear.” There was a bit of a sinister flare to her tone behind that innocent smile and shrug she tried to sell you. “One could even say it's my favorite pastime.”

And right as you were about to press another question the shaft came to a screeching halt, oh…how convenient. You swore you saw Lady Dimitrescu outright grinning before she ducked out ahead of you, if you didn’t know better you’d say she read your mind.

The moment you stepped out of the shaft and through the opening of the alcove, you were severely unprepared for the harsh winter wind or how well into the evening it’s become and the conversation earlier was placed on the backburner.

Less than two hundred feet away there was a stagecoach waiting with four black horses attached. The stagecoach was all black with gold trimmings, a style fit for royalty—you’ve seen enough of them in your lifetime to know.

There was a young man half frozen next to it as he waited for Lady Dimitrescu’s approach, nearly stuttering out all of his teeth to greet her but she hardly paid him any attention, gracefully ducking inside. The young man gawked at you as you entered the coach behind his employer but was quick to close the door after you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, the tips of your ears heating up when you had to brush past her crossed legs to sit on the bench across from her and she made no effort to move, only watching you while smoking from her cigarette stick.

The stagecoach had a bigger interior than the exterior let on, accommodating the dark haired beauty perfectly. Though she was sitting at a sideways angle she seemed very comfortable and she was easily dumping the ashes outside of the cracked window.

“Is there anyway to get my things back…it had a majority of my clothes in there.” Or get back to your camp—it was probably ruined by now, either by wild animals or nature itself.

“We will accommodate you at the castle.” Her gaze was on you again but you were busy looking out of the window down at the village, now that it was nightfall everyone had their lights on—it was bigger than what you expected. “I don’t suppose you like dresses?”

~~

As you suspected, the inside of her castle was just as massive and beautiful in it's antiquity as it was on the outside. The estate was kept in pristine condition and you were honestly impressed with what you saw. But it was really warm though not uncomfortably so. You two had barely stepped into the lobby of her castle with you mostly admiring how easily she was able to bend at the waist without batting an eye to get through a door that wasn't custom sized for her. She seemed used to it but you wondered why she didn't correct the doors.

“Hmm. Nice castle but why is it so warm? I might have to sleep with a window open.” you joked, still taking in everything and you had yet to notice how your words affected your host.

She stopped dead in her tracks and turned on you so fast you actually did run into the taller woman. Your entire face was lost in a world of firm fluffiness and your senses were filled with the very essence of Lady Dimitrescu. Though before you could scramble away with an apology on the tip of your tongue, Lady Dimitrescu was moving before you and she had reached down and she fisted the back of your parka and kept you right where you were, close and trapped.

You were forced to look up at her between her bust, or let them suffocate you, and she was already looking down at you with a hard look but you had no idea what the hell you did.

“You open a window in my castle and you won't be sleeping at all, guest to Mother Miranda be damned.” she snarled, her tone steely and you had no choice but to listen—even if she didn’t have you in a death grip, “The windows are off limits. Do not open them. Do not touch them. Are we clear?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, still struggling against her unyielding hold and against your rising temper, “What the—”

“Do you understand?” she tightened her grip on the back of your clothing, forcing the collar of every layer you wore to constrict around your throat at an alarming fast rate.

“Understood.” you gritted, your blunt nails digging her soft flesh beneath your hands that was her stomach but you doubted that your nails were as deadly as hers. You didn't bother to tell her that it was a joke and you were quick to straighten yourself out as you caught your balance when she released you with a bit of a pull against your parka forcing you away from her. You cursed her in your native tongue but her attentions were now focused on something to your left—no, on someone.

“Ah, good! Servant, come here,” a young girl no older than twenty quickly came over, bowing her head awkwardly.

“Y-yes Lady Dimitrescu, how may I serve—”

Alcina cut in quickly as if she had better things to do, and she did, “You're not serving me tonight, girl. This (Y/n). She will be staying in the guest room to the left of the wine room and you will be tending to her every need for the duration of her stay, and I do mean her every need.” though her tone was cheerful there was an undertone of a threat if her instructions went under-performed. Alcina winked at you as she hadn't almost choked you out in the middle of her foyer.

“Yes ma'am, I understand.”

The maiden nearly nodded her head from her shoulders. She was so terrified. If you were blind you would've assumed it was her first day, but a good portion of you knew that it was something else—you remembered quite well how Miranda preferred to run her own kingdom and you weren't surprised that this woman had similar tastes.

“Keep your pleasantries. Just show me to my room and leave me before I really lose my fucking temper.” you snarled at both of them, namely the Lady of the castle. You were able to physically restrain yourself from starting a brawl with this woman but your mouth has almost always gotten you into more than half the situations that left marks all over your body.

Lady Dimitrescu looked back to you, tilting her head back slightly as if she was just finally taking notice of how hard you were glaring at her. She did not know why as it could've been for a number of things that have happened within the last five minutes.

Alcina's eyes shifted from you to the trembling maiden between the two of you, then back to you again, “Are we going to have an issue, (Y/n)?” and clearly misunderstanding the reason for your ire.

You scoffed knowing when to pick your battles and how she handles her staff was not one of them. But how she handled you was, “Manhandle me again and we will.”

The maiden gasped at your audacity and flinched sharply when Alcina chuckled while setting her hand on her hip. She found more and more curious and she was starting to see why Miranda liked you so much before. There was a spirit that burned inside of you—strong and rattling in its cage, she could see it in your eyes even as you restrained yourself.

The maiden opened her eyes when she didn't feel the whoosh of Lady Dimitrescu slapping you through the wall, she was surprised to see you still standing there alive. The maiden looked at you in awe before bowing her head, “P-please follow me, ma'am.”

Alcina still stood there with her hand on her hip and another one of her cigarettes was lit, watching you follow the little maiden through one of the side doors when a familiar buzzing made itself known until Bela was standing next to her, snuggled close as she wiped the blood from her mouth with the sleeve of her black shift. It needed to be washed anyway.

“Mother, who is that? Another meal?”

“No,” Alcina answered softly, reaching down with her free hand to push back Bela's hood so she could comb out a few tangles in her eldest daughter's blonde hair, “But she is very interesting, isn't she?”

“Yes, but who is she?” Bela asked again, this time looking up at Alcina.

“Perhaps a friend, or foe, that has yet to reveal itself. But for now, go and collect your sisters dear and meet me in my study...I wish to talk to them about something more pressing.”

Bela was gone in an instant, the synchronized buzzing of dozens of blowflies disappearing quickly leaving Alcina alone with her thoughts.

Here is a link to the Ao3 version of this story...if it's easier than tumblr...

[interact-if]

The A/PI Heritage Month interviews are coming to a close soon! For Day 8, we have lovely Aster! :chinhands:

Aster, author of Nevermoore

A/PI Heritage Month Featured Author

They say that curiosity killed the cat, but it won’t be satisfaction that’ll be bringing you back. Again. And again. And again.

The simple act of visiting your parents turns into something much more than what you were expecting when your car suddenly breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and you find yourself right beside a small town that’s engulfed by the trees.

Some of the residents you met right away were welcoming enough, happy to try and lend a helping hand when they can. But their smiles seemed more apologetic than happy, and their eyes looked at you with regret.

You never really did understand why that was…

Until you died.

So now, you are an unwilling participant in an endless cycle of death and resurrection. And the more you learn about the bloodstained history of the town and the past of its people, the more you'll get tangled up in a web of secrets that threatens to keep you there forever.

So welcome, newcomer… to Nevermoore.

(INTERVIEW TRANSCRIPT UNDER THE CUT!)

Q1: First of all, introduce us to your project! What is it about?

Nevermoore is planned to be is a supernatural story wrapped in a little horror bow about a cursed town that’s both lost to the trees and lost to the ages. Relatively normal lives can still happen there...well, as normal as it gets when not only is aging put to a pause, but dying isn’t even a permanent thing. And the duration of the stay, as far as the town is concerned, is forever.

And unsurprisingly, these effects of the town are barely half of the secrets and mysteries that it holds...But the question is, does the latest new resident that ‘accidentally’ stumbled across it (spoiler alert that’s you) really wants to know what they are?

...Perhaps some things are just better left forgotten.

Q2: If it’s not too spoilery, what are you most excited about your project?

Oh, there’s so many scenes and reveals I want to get to already that it’s hard to choose! But if I had to be specific, the one I’m most excited in writing out is Sterling’s (an RO) backstory! I don’t mean to play favorites or anything, but I like to think that their backstory as having the most Hollywood movie levels of drama and intrigue.

Sterling was honestly the first character I made for this story, even before the MC, so I can’t help myself in having some fun with this!

Q3: What inspired the current project you’re working on?

Believe it or not, Nevermoore’s first iteration was supposed to be a very specific, very self-indulgent AU fanfic of this piece of media I was into back in like, 2014? The drafts of that had remained in my Google Drive, unchanged and unworked on, that is until about two years ago when I discovered the wide, diverse world of interactive fiction.

Inspired to create a story to share with others, I ended up reviving those old documents. The plot and the characters had to be massively overhauled to make it more my own of course, and some inspiration was also been taken from shows like Stranger Things and Dark for their eerie and secretive small-town aesthetics.

Q4: Do you pull from your own identity for inspiration? How has that been reflected in your work?

...Admittedly, not so much. It was an embarrassingly lack of foresight on my part (as a first generation Filipino-Canadian), because it somehow never occurred to me that I can, in fact, add characters who are like me into my own writing. Well, lesson learned. Good news is that I already have some side characters planned who’ll be Filipinothat will show up later on in Nevermoore’s demo, as well as have a Filipino RO in a future wip. The latter of which I am very excited about!

With that being said, I will share that MCs parents in the story are actually loosely based on my own parents who were Filipino immigrants! I won’t elaborate on what parts, but I’m planning on integrating some more of their personalities in the upcoming patch. I really want dedicate those characters to them, since they’ve already sacrificed so much to bring me and my sibling here in Canada to have a better life! :)

Q5: What’s been your experience so far? With writing, with the if community...

There’s no doubt in my mind that getting involved with the IF community has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, despite being incredibly internet shy at first. I’m glad to have meet so many amazing IF writers and readers, and I definitely wouldn’t have gotten as far as I did with my projects if it weren’t for our constant support, help, and hype for each other.

This community has been so wonderful and welcoming, and I can’t wait to see it grow even more!

Q6: Do you have any future projects in the works?

At least three so far, actually! Nothing is fully established yet, just some concepts and vibes. But the genres are high-fantasy, postapocalyptic-ish, and sci-fi.

The first is about a character who’s an aspiring writer (heh) that suddenly finds themselves ‘isekaied’ into the fantasy world of the still-incomplete book they were working on. The second is about an immortal from the dawn of humanity trying to live through the endof humanity ft. zombies(?). And the third is about a volunteer of a cryosleep experiment gone wrong and ends up waking up 1000 years in the future instead. It seems here that my brain won’t let me rest and is telling me to try my hand in as many genres I can haha!

Q7: Finally, what piece of advice would you give to fellow authors?

This is advice that I still have to work on following myself but: Don’t stress too much on your first drafts, it’s called that for a reason! Focus on getting the basic ideas/dialogues/etc down and don’t be afraid to write ‘badly’, since there’s always time for you to polish it into something you’re happy with later on!

Otherwise, you’ll only get into this cycle of editing the same sections over and over, and that can burn you out before you even have the chance to work on the parts you’re actually excited for!