#ohsunshine

[nightmarecountry]

HEY

#( ooc. ) #ohsunshine

[eulogier]

@ohsunshine sent . . . how’s the weather up there ? / from rome for felix :>

felix's head turns at the sound of roman's voice,   cast down from where he was once gazing into the sun through a pair of red frame raybans.   from where roman is standing, his eyes are protected by felix's shadow.   felix laughs shortly,   then touches his finger to his tongue before putting it up to the sky,   "it's about twenty-seven degrees up here. it's lovely weather."   he grins.   "how about you?"   

during term time the heat is dreadful,   bunch of polo shirts in a room,   the whole school starts to reek of body odour and insecurity.   here,   it's much more bearable,   felix's shirt has long since been removed.   "you can try it up here if you'd like -- i think there's a pair of stilts lying around somewhere..."   he looks back at roman as the idea strikes him,   "or you could just get on my shoulders?"

#celsius. obvs. #throwing up with the amount of times i said their names. but saying he he he he was not proving clear... #FELIX: I CHOOSE YOU! #ohsunshine

[dryadologist]

@ohsunshine said: trust me. i can handle a dangerous man. / from daniel

Wendell can't stop himself from laughing, so much so that he must place a hand on Daniel's shoulder to contain himself. "I'm relieved to hear you're so self-assured in your capabilities, Daniel." He has to wonder how much truth there is to that. Could it be that the dangerous men Daniel is so used to handling are simply making him think he has them under control? It's the sort of deception one could expect from the fae, after all. Better to be thought to be unassuming or at least not as powerful as one actually is. It's never advisable to reveal all of one's secrets. "I must know what your trick is. How is it that you're able to keep them in check?"

#ohsunshine

[shivcomplex]

@ohsunshine sent . . . [ settle ] sender sits on receiver's lap and gets comfortable / from tabitha !!!

it all happens quite quickly.   one minute she’s making fanciful suggestions,   a few bashful jokes about the poor hosting and lack of appropriate chairs   ;    the next,   a pretty poodle finds her way curled into shiv’s lap.   she doesn’t protest,   and struggles to stop the smirk that finds her face.   one arm remains draped over the arm of the chair,   the other snakes its way around tabitha’s waist.   her voice lowers,   comfortably quiet in the minimal space between them,   “are you comfortable?”   of course tabitha obliged to sit in her lap,   she knows how to thrill like that.   shiv glances away to the sight of a cousin greg through the crowd,   “oh, look, you can see from here.”   she had been gossiping,   of course,   “does he look like he’s begging? i can’t lip read but i can feel the pathetic radiating off of him.”

#i just think nobody would bat an eye at casual homoeroticism at the function #DYN. TABS & SHIV. #VERSE 5: POST-CANON. #WELL IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT QUEUE. #ohsunshine

[stankycowboy]

Severen receives a link. It is unreadable in the way that dream-writing usually is, and the feed - if he clicks on it - is distorted and strange. The image is clear for a few seconds at a time, interspersed with longer periods of static which looks like grains of sand floating around the screen.

He may recognise both figures, if the image clears for long enough for him to see them clearly.

The video may be distorted but the audio is clear: high-pitched whimpering, pleading, unspecified other noises that are wet and unpleasant.

It ends abruptly; the link has disappeared.

[do not ask me about the logistics or practicalities of this. all vibes all the time.]

Sometimes it was hard to tell when he was dreaming. For most this would be alarming, disturbing even, but he has had enough time in this trans-liminal space to know that he has already courted the things here that he should fear the most. They are his dearest companions now. There is a chirrup from a device in his hand. It looks like a cellphone. From somewhere in his mind he knows this is his phone, although the object bears no marker of ownership; nor does he recognize it. He raises the screen to his eyes, a reactive gesture rather than a necessary one. A notification is lit across the screen. There is garbled text, but there is no need to interpret it. Only action is needed. He taps it.

Immediately the screen is filled with a distorted image, snowed with static. It is just as jumbled as the words had been, but something tells him the poor picture quality is because this is something he should not be meant to see. That this belongs to someone else. It makes him all the more curious. About the owner, about the benefactor—though he could make a good guess at the latter. Severen holds the unintelligible picture close to his face, eager gaze picking out what flashes come through the pixelated haze. Soon he stops caring so much about seeing because he starts hearing. He knows these sounds well. They are fearful, pleading noises that crawl from the throats of the desperate, of the cowardly. The sounds of broken men. Even in this dreaming space he begins to hunger. A flare in his mind tells him this is the reaction it wanted. It wanted to share this with him. Knew he would appreciate its work. Both of Severen’s hands grasp the device. Wishing he could pass through, ready to drag his tongue across the stilled mass of blurry confusion, just in case he might be able to taste the suffering of the individual making the horrid (delicious) clamoring from the far side of somewhere. It becomes all the better when the work begins. Liquid squelching, gurgled cries (tears? vomit?), the sound of something ineffably sharp slicing through tender despair. A guttural growl rumbles in his chest, teeth itching, jaw working itself to soreness as the muscles tense and slacken in compulsory action.

And then it is all over. The screen goes blank. Only a black void. But his blood is up, his mouth damp and empty. Severen chucks the phone across the vast, empty space (containing only himself now) and—wakes up with his arm in the air. Lira rustles in the sheets beside him, clearly put out by his movement, but unwilling to rouse completely to snap at him. Retracting his limb, he nestles back down beside her, though sleep no longer interests him. In his mind he can still hear the whimpers. Closing his eyes, he presses his face close to her throat and enjoys the complementary pairing of that which existed in close proximity in the physical plane, and the distant wailing of the suffering in a place far distant. Delightfully sandwiched between the two.

#✘ ic. #ohsunshine #v. needs must when the devil drives #(is this the main verse? 😀🫴)

[devourcr]

( @ohsunshine asked: ❛  you’re  just  saying  what  i  want  to  hear .  ❜ / from daniel / deadly nightshade starters // always accepting !! )

❝ why, mr. molloy? to console you? ❞ the edge to his words have a purpose — if only to lead him off-track, to remind him more of the sarcasm and biting remarks exchanged between the two. the verbal chess game was better when lingering on the surface. armand enjoyed those games immensely, but what he hadn't enjoyed was any sign of suffering in daniel.

some, naturally, he did. and while he takes great care to influence how he's perceived and what's remembered, he isn't interested in hurting daniel ( irritating and toying with, yes ), and the interview seemed to have gone astray earlier. tracking both louis's and daniel's emotions sometimes felt like dampening a blazing fire.

❝ do i strike you as someone who placates? ❞

#ohsunshine #interactions // daniel molloy ( ohsunshine ) #keep your soul like a secret // modern verse #maybe s2?? #i'm cool with anything tbh!

[talentforlying]

@ohsunshine: ❝what will you do when there’s no more blood to shed or vengeance to take?❞ / from door — SIX OF CROWS STARTERS

' when, tch. awful bleedin' certain about it, are ye? '

the evasion is so obvious that he gets the vague sense he should be embarrassed, somehow. questions about the future: he hates those. hates them more coming off the back of a bad first impression, when he's just been playing hardball with some pissant marquis in front of all and sundry, and now probably looks like a right twat teeming with ungovernable anger issues.

constantine shakes his head dismissively, ducking down to squint into one of the harrod's display cases and pretend like he knows what he's doing here. go to the floating market, the marquis said. check out the cheeses, he said . . . never said what worldly fucking wisdom he's supposed to be garnering off the cheeses, or the market. or anything about tag-along busybodies.

' do i look like i live in a shite action movie? you've got me all wrong, luv — i don't do vengeance. ' except when he does. when he's pissed, or lied to, or mildly inconvenienced, or sneezed at on public transport . . . a lot, actually. suddenly, his reflection in the glass looks older and meaner, and he twitches back from it with an irritated huff, jabbing a finger accusingly at door.

' and just what about you, eh? ever think about what you'd do f'you run out've places to swan off to when the going gets tough? '

#ohsunshine #DOOR NEVERWHERE YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUS #running at high speed w/ the idea that constantine & the marquis are Constantly indebted to each other and get real real petty about it #( V. ) STEPS FROM THE SHADOWS. ( i. ) #( answered. ) THIS IS JOHN CONSTANTINE. FUCK OFF.

[padredeem]

@ohsunshine a mini starter for Ellie Williams

"all right, kid. getcher stuff t'gether, sun's up and we're leavin'."

#ohsunshine #ohsunshine: ellie williams #v: and you set everything right (canon tlou s1) #hi so sorry for the wait! #I'm so excited to write with you and your Ellie!

[formshaper]

❝my ghost won’t associate with your ghost.❞ / from del for dream

The faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth. He observes his sulking sibling; she has hidden herself to the side of his throne, arms around her knees and chin resting on them, pouting. A puddle of colour surrounds her, like spilled gasoline in sunlight.

"You and I will not have ghosts, little sister," says Dream calmly, and crouches down at her side. He extends his hand to her, palm-up: from his fingertip a butterfly unfurls, plain white, a blank canvas for her to play with. It flutters its wings and seems to wait for her.

"But... if we did, my ghost would be much grieved to be disowned."

#ic. #ic: dream #ohsunshine #ohsunshine: delirium #[ what's this? dream being a decent older sibling for once? IMAGINE. ]

[corignem]

“   i’m  so ,   so  sorry .   you  didn’t  deserve  that .   ” // @ohsunshine // daniel @ lestat //

brow raises and, with one look cast toward daniel, there is amusement that comes to lestat's features. it's quite often something to be found in lestat, but here he'd gone from a more neutral energy, to engaged. he'd been toying, playing really, up until this point. relishing the sound of his own voice, recounting certain tales. after all, if he were to go public with all of this... well. he'd need a good biographer, right? certainly, he could spin the words himself. but there was something altogether quite pleasant, satisfying about the idea of it being daniel to do it.

"it's not nice to be cruel to someone pouring their heart and soul. bad manners. distasteful, even. i'm sure the others were more than happy to take it, given how they are, but i don't find it attractive." it's said as a snipe-- venom in his tone in spite of the way eyes are soft looking back into daniel's. it's a lie. outright, and obvious. but he has his appearances to keep up, doesn't he?

though eventually, lestat moves. shifts where he sits, elegantly spread back against the sofa and he smiles at daniel.

"you have courage. fire. i like that."

#im cackling why are all these vampire just: yes daniel pls talk to me like this treat me like a bitch pls and thank u #....i mean. why am i asking. I GET IT TBH... #gdi im cackling already just !!! these two !!! #⧽ 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 | lestat de lioncourt. #ohsunshine

[nightmarecountry]

Bayyyyyybe 🤭

RUE.

#( ooc. ) #[ you call someone 'baby' by accident ONE TIME and-- ] #[ you can't tell but i'm head in hands. except not really because i'm typing. ] #[ [shaking and squeaking you like a chew toy] baby. ] #ohsunshine

[dimensionalspades]

@ohsunshine said: “Ready for another round?” / ellie @ vittorio

- bg3 || accepting -

. How did she have the energy? Yes, Vittorio was used to the running and surviving, but his age was beginning to show when compared to her readiness to return out into the trials. He wondered if she understood the situation fully, or if she thought it was a game.

"I will use the excuse that I am almost 1000 years old by your standards. No, I want to sleep," he said, chuckling as he rubbed his face. "If I had half your energy, I could have maybe teleported anywhere in ten universes by now."

#.the book and writer both were love's purveyors ; vit.torio | inbox. #ohsunshine #ohsunshine | el.lie

[dryadologist]

@ohsunshine said: “i don’t enjoy being condescended to.” / from daniel

"I'm sure it's a sentiment shared by most, Mr. Molloy," Dr. Bambleby comments, almost oblivious as to why Daniel might have mentioned such a feeling in the first place. "I too don't appreciate it, but I've found it happens so rarely now that I can either ignore it or make it go away." He makes a flippant gesture and offers him a smile. "We can agree to disagree on the subject of the existence of vampires. I'm simply of the belief that perhaps your talents are better served on the academic side of the proverbial fence, as opposed to... journalism is what you called it, correct? Why is it that you've chosen to take on such a unique task?"

#ohsunshine #he really said bet huh

[shivcomplex]

@ohsunshine — tabitha⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀021, a small, intimate family barbecue.

FOR SUCH A CLOSE FAMILY, THE ROYS WERE TERRIBLE AT DOING THE FAMILY THING.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀today’s family function was no different; everyone had turned up, but tension bubbled between each unit. everyone naturally separated into their respective couples: logan and marcia, connor and willa, kendall and rava (and the kids), roman and tabitha, and unfortunately, tom and greg. 

tom had been her’s, but greg swept in a little less than ten minutes ago and shiv was left to her own resources. she found herself entertaining a glass of wine as her date, vaguely eyeing her possible victims. there was some mingling; marcia was starting a conversation with willa which earned a worried gaze from connor ( who appeared to be looking at dad in the hopes that he would put an end to it, and of course, he wouldn’t ). kendall seemed more preoccupied with watching dad than his own children too, and roman looked primed and ready to bother his older brother. she watched for a moment, lips pressed to a glass as roman traipsed away and left tabitha to hover. she was in.

⠀⠀“hey,” ⠀⠀ shiv smiled genuinely, appearing at her side before someone else could catch her attention. she did like tabitha, for all the instances that they had interacted. of the women roman managed to find for these things, she seemed to be a good one. ⠀⠀ “i’m surprised you came to this thing,” ⠀⠀ what she didn’t say was, ‘i’m surprised you’re still around’. past the wedding, she expected roman to have fumbled the blonde supermodel before her. ⠀⠀ “i guess roman probably dragged you along though, huh ?” ⠀⠀ frankly, tabitha could have said that roman was paying her to be his date and she would have believed it. shiv folded her arms across her chest, watching as roman and kendall bickered animatedly, ⠀⠀“i’m gonna go find out what that’s about — uh, you can be my backup if you want.”⠀⠀

#i wuv tabitha #i think shiv could too!!! #ohsunshine #VERSE 2: SEASON 2. #ANSWERED.

[stankycowboy]

@ohsunshine Roman (vampire) said you can't drink out of that!

A face resplendent in red looks up from the torn, messy wound in the now cold person’s throat. “Why not, you were?” He had no shame in eating the already dead (besides a little indigestion), they all went down the same. Passing up a meal was downright sinful. Were not vultures and hyenas some of the most crucial parts of the world’s ecosystem? He had no qualms with the comparison to the great corpse eaters of the earth.

“You gotta problem finishin’?” He smiles, it is a white sickle split in the crimson carnage. “I hear it’s normal for some fellas”. His derisive laughter becomes muffled as he returns to feeding.

#✘ ic. #ohsunshine

[devourcr]

( @ohsunshine asked ❛ run . run & don’t stop . ❜ / from dwight/ deadly nightshade starters // always accepting !! )

the hammering of his heartbeat is deafening. amber eyes lock onto dwight just as he hears an axe splinter wood past their heads. she's close. as the only two left in the trial, armand has his doubts about splitting up, but the odds of them dying together if they didn't is higher than not. and frankly, dwight's never been an untrustworthy figure in the trials.

when someone was willing to take risks for him, armand's also more likely to give into altruism himself. after all, survivors were stronger as a group.

swallowing the lump in his throat, the vampire nods. ❝ you meet me at the door, we leave together, ❞ he says, though there's little time to ensure that he agrees. the only way they were going to get to the door was by separating their efforts. she could only chase one of them at a time, after all. one thing that he's positive of is that he has no intention of being skewered on a hook this time around. with that, he vaults the shack window, prepared to make a beeline for the door, hoping that by the time he gets it open, dwight will be there too.

#ohsunshine #interactions // dwight fairfield ( ohsunshine ) #we're hanging out with corpses // dbd verse