#*angry bex grumbling*

[sidestreetmuses]

“ you’re going to be a father. ” 

@livesforgttn

A wide grin spread across his face, picking Briana up and spinning her around before laying a quick kiss on her. “I promise, you’ll enjoy being a mother so much you won’t be able to wait to have another. And I already know you’ll be so good at it. There’s a room I’ve set aside for a while, thinking it would make a good nursery.”

#interaction | mitch #livesforgttn #*angry bex grumbling*

[rotten-games]

For the ROs this is relevant to how do they tell their partner(s) they’re down to clown?

I assume this is a sin bin ask so I’ll tag it as such.

Rott

Ardwen: Drops hints about a ‘surprise’ for at least five hours before you find him naked somewhere. Preferably in bed, if for no one else’s but the servants’ sakes.

Arke: Takes your hand, gives it a squeeze, then proceeds to fumble for the right words for maybe a minute. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want to sound crass but you’ve heard him sound crass before and you just think he’s nervous.

Bex: Well, it starts with a bouquet of flowers of your choice... Yes, he has meticulously planned an entire night of romance that may or may not even lead to anything. He’s just happy to be here.

Cal: Oh, you know, nothing much. She’d offer a massage, force Ardwen to play some music vaguely within earshot. If she’s going to woo you she’s going to woo you well.

Druvel: He’d be clingier than usual; you’d often find his tail wrapped heedlessly around your wrist, or your leg, or holding you in place when you’re just trying to go about your business. Not even he really realises it until he voices his intentions and realises his body may have been trying to get it to occur sooner.

Emil: Turn bright red, mostly. Fumble over a ‘you know I love you’ speech and just generally give mixed signals that leave you wondering if he’s trying to break up with you. As soon as you ask that he turns even redder, “No!” He insists frantically, “No, absolutely not, I forbid it!”

Selfish. At least he’s not selfish in bed.

Ettia: Ettia has a look. When she gives it to you, you know. Usually, however, she’ll tug you by the hand just in case you don’t know.

Gwyn: Pull a prank, probably. His apologies can be very persuasive.

Herron: It’s usually on nights he can’t get to sleep, or days where he knows he needs to relax but just can’t bring himself to. Usually, you need to bring it up first, but you know he needs some sort of relief when he’s getting irritable.

Korrin: Mention something about feeling frisky, you know, communicate.

Lokeira: Crawls into your lap, which is perfectly normal most of the time, he likes being tall, and all that. This is markedly different, considering he’s tugging at your clothes and nipping at your neck.

Necrolym: Say a cheesy pickup line. He, unfortunately, is not good at romance.

Nox: “Let’s bang.” She’s about as blunt as they come.

Qora: She’d send Zora out of the room.

Severa: Dueling is her way of flirting. It is also her way of doing many other things. You’ll know which duel leads to which outcome eventually.

Spotter: Do something cheesy like write a poem, or get you flowers, or something that can get across to you the extent of their love. (They will do this regardless of intentions.)

Coi

Allard: They will get handsy. Nothing below the belt, and certainly enough to pull away should you wish, but the affection is evident.

Carol: She gets a drink out and two (Or three if Lowrie’s joining) glasses.

Lowrie: They tend to tuck their hair behind their ears and chuckling nervously. It may be to expose their neck, who knows.

Ridley: Shaky hands. Very shaky hands, and a very red face. They won’t say a word about it best not to mention it.

Mordred: He gets a little bitey when he’s horny. Like just playfully he’ll nip at your ear, your neck, your fingers, whatever is available to him. Not to be confused by the very real existence of his angry bites, which are a whole lot more painful.

Harley: They have a habit of staring at your neck, collarbone, or hips when they’re feeling rowdy.

Doc: She simply asks if you’d be amenable to the prospect of having relations with her. Yes, even when you’re deep in a relationship. She never can quite meet your eye when she asks.

Arthur: He isn’t patient and would get fed up and just grumble something reluctant about wanting you. And never quite look you in the eye.

Adrastea: Pulling you into a crushing kiss tends to do the trick.

Deimos: If he doesn’t just straight up proposition you he, too has a look. But unlike Ettia it’s less playful and more hungry.

Saga: They just. Get. SO. Fidgety. It isn’t nervousness, they’re not fifteen, they’re just impatient but unwilling to properly voice their wants.

Perci: She’d get herself pretty or handsome and plan out an entire speech because she can never do anything halfway.

Dagda: Hugs and neck kisses. Little murmurs of, “Want you,” and other such words they’d gawp and blush at themselves for even considering later.

#rott game #coi game #sin bin #ros #aight im out to go draw my characters (probably mordred) because writing hard :((

[imaginefan]

Never Noticed

Elijah Mikaelson X Reader

Word Count: 2127

Requested: Anon  

Request: You like Elijah but you don’t notice until people, the Mikaelson’s tell you but you think they’re wrong until one night you almost lose him and you realize your heart stopped like different kind of fear than it would of been for a friendship then you end up admitting to yourself they were right . One shot with originals and she is human.

You had been friends with the Mikaelson's since they appeared in Mystic Falls, you were from a family of hunters but you kept yourself away from the supernaturals of Mystic Falls unless they intended to hurt someone innocent, that was how you found out the Caroline was a vampire, you were at the carnival when she attacked someone and you managed to save the guy and hold her off until Stephan and Elena got there and took her away. They had tried to get you to help them but you refused to get mixed up in their drama, you had a way that you liked to fight and that was what you were sticking to when Elijah showed up for the first time you knew where he was but you didn't do much past that. Elijah was the one that came to find you, he knew of your family and heard that some of you were in Mystic Falls. "May I sit?" He asked as you stood in front of your table in a small cafe. "Do I know you?" You asked. "Not personally, my name is Elijah Mikaelson." He introduced himself and you nodded towards the chair allowing him to sit in front of you. "Is there something that I can do for you?" You asked. "I need your help." He explained and you looked at him and frowned. "I intend to stop my brother from breaking his werewolf curse and you seem to be one of my best options." "Why would you think that? You don't even know me." You said as you took a sip of your drink. "I know your family, I've met other members of your family and they have been some of my most reliable allies." He explained and you looked at him and smiled. "My grandfather spoke about you, the only supernatural friend that he made, he saved a lot of people supernatural and human but you were the only person that he claimed a friend." You said, "that is the only reason that I will help you." "Thank you." He smiled. "And if your involving the school kids this will only become more difficult." You said as he stood from his seat. "I have no choice Elena is the one that my brother is after." Elijah shrugged and you looked at him sighed. "Guess there's no other option." You agreed.

Now all in all your plan failed and Klaus did break his curse so you spent a good portion of your time making sure that his newly turned Hybrids didn't go around killing everyone that they crossed paths with and one day Klaus was around when you sent one of his Hybrids packing. "You're the one that helped my brother," Klaus smirked as he leant against the wall of the alleyway. "Are you here to kill me for it?" You asked and he shook his head. "Now where's the fun in that? You're not even scared." He laughed as he stepped forward. "Well many others have threatened to kill me." You shrugged. "Mmm." He hummed. "Where is your brother anyway?" You asked, "He just disappeared." "You think I have something to do with that?" He asked. "I do." You nodded "You know you have a tendency to put your siblings in a box when they disappoint you." "How do you know that?" He asked. "Well, your family history is part of mine." You explained. "My family hunt those who hurt the innocent and while they haven't been able to kill any of you, they've done well to track you through history and steer you away from too much trouble. They've even fought your father to keep him away from you." Klaus' hand latched around your throat. "Careful with your next words hunter." He warned and you took the stake from under your shirt and stabbed him in the shoulder. "Don't threaten me." You warned as you walked away.

The next time that you heard from the Mikaelsons was when they were holding a ball, you had an invite through the post and while you were going to ignore it when you saw the handwritten message on the back from Elijah you hadn't heard from him in a long time and it was clear that Klaus was finally letting him out of the box, so you went you walked into the ball expecting to keep an eye on everyone from the sidelines but Elijah must have seen you the moment that you walked in "You came." He smiled as he put out his arm for you. "I did, I mean you asked me to." You said softly. "I wasn't sure that you would come." He answered honestly. "Well I mean you disappeared off the face of the earth." You shrugged. "I at least wanted an answer for that." "My brother was to blame for my absence." He admitted and you nodded. "I thought as much, said so too, ended up with his hands around my throat." You explained and he frowned. "Are you okay?" He asked. "Of course." You answered as you walked towards the bar. "So you're the one that managed to capture my brother Elijah's attention." You looked up at a beautiful blonde. "I'm Rebekah." "Nice to meet you." You smiled.

From then on you became good friends with Rebekah and while you and Klaus never saw eye to eye, he didn't try to kill you and you didn't try to kill him. You were sitting in The Grill watching Klaus and Kol across the bar, Elijah had asked you to keep an eye on his brothers while he tried to figure out what had happened the night of the ball. You watched as Klaus left with Caroline and Damon and Alaric followed Kol out, you followed after them figuring that they were distracting Klaus with Caroline. Matt was the one who had the stake when you got out there and you easily wrestled it from him and kicked him away "Wow you guys are really desperate aren't you?" You asked as you handed the stake to Kol. "What are you doing?" Damon asked as Alaric helped Matt up. "I thought you were a hunter." "I am." You answered as you crossed your arms "I just like the Mikaelsons way better than I like you." "What is going on?" Kol asked and you looked at him. "Get Klaus and then find Elijah." You ordered, Damon looked like he was ready to stop him but you threw the state strapped to your arm at his shoulder, he caught it but that gave Kol the window he needed to get to Klaus.

For the next couple of months you talked a lot with Rebekah and occasionally run into Klaus but it seemed that Elijah was ignoring you and no one knew where he was for you to be able to ask him yourself so you distracted yourself, Rebekah said that she wanted the cure so that she could be human and you promised to help her find it and then teach her the human ways to protect herself. You promised that she would always have a friend in you no matter what she was, so you were stuck in a car with Rebekah and an emotionless Elena as you drove through the country trying to find Katherine who had taken the cure from the tomb. You found her in a cafe and you sat next to Elena while Rebekah sat down next to Kathrine. After interrogating Kathrine, you and Elena went to meet her friend, you hid but then Elijah appeared. The reason that he wasn't answering your calls was because he was running around with Katherine, you walked over to them as he grabbed Elena "Elijah nice to know that you're alive but I'm going to need  you to let go of her." You mumbled as you leant against the pillar of the canopy. "(Y/N) what are you doing here?" He asked. "Helping your sister." You answered. "I don't understand." He frowned. "You would if you picked up the phone." You muttered "but you should know that you girlfriend killed her brother and the only reason that I came after her with the other two was because she killed someone innocent." "(Y/N)-" "No it's fine I need to get back to Mystic Falls anyway." You mumbled before you left. When you got back to the cafe you saw that Stefan and Damon were there "Rebekah give me the keys to the car." "Elijah he's here." Rebekah said. "Oh I know and I'm done here. I'm sure three of you can deal with Katherine." You said as you held your hand out. "What's wrong?" Rebekah asked as she followed you out. "Your brother hasn't spoken to me in months and then I find out that this is why... I don't even know why I care but I really need to leave so please can I have the keys." You pleaded. "You care because you like him." Rebekah smiled. "Please, the keys." Rebekah sighed before handing them to you and walking back into the cafe as you made your way home.

You ignored Elijah's calls after that instead Rebekah was the one that called you "Elijah stopped answering my calls." She said. "I care why? He's done this before maybe he's just found a new brunette to keep his fancy." You asked. "I know you're angry but he could be in trouble. The last time that he talked to me he was with Nik." Rebekah explained. "You lucky I know how dangerous your other brother is." You grumbled as you got out of bed "pick me up in half an hour." Upon arriving at New Orleans it was clear that Klaus had done something and while he and Rebekah argued you looked around the house."He's not here Bex!" "You brought Elijah's newest love interest." Klaus smirked. "Where is he Klaus?" You asked, he just shrugged. "Alright so the lat time this happened he had a dagger in his chest and I assume you've done the same this time, the question is where are you storing him because he's not here." "Smart girl." Klaus complimented. "We'll find him." Rebekah warned. "I'm sure you will sister." Klaus nodded.

After finding out that Klaus had given Elijah over to a very powerful witch and being put on the back burner, you were tasked with looking after Hayley while the others worked on getting Elijah back. It seemed that they were close to getting him back "You knew Elijah before?" Hayley asked as you sat with your feet up on the coffee table in the living room. "You could say that." You confirmed as you looked at her, she was leaning against the doorframe of the living room before she decided to sit down. "Did you guys have a fight?" She asked. "Yes, well no, I was hurt about something but I guess there was no reason for it." You answered as you picked at your fingers. "Rebekah said that you liked him." Hayley smiled. "He was trying to call you but you weren't answering." "Mmm." You hummed before closing your eyes. "What happens if we can't get him back?" She asked. You didn't realise it but you didn't like the idea of never being able to see Elijah ever again, yes you were angry but that didn't mean that you never wanted to see him again or wished him dead.

They got Elijah back after a few days and you had taken to avoiding him based on your new feelings but it wasn't long before he cornered you "It would seem that you are still angry about Katherine." He said and you looked at him. "I'm not angry about Katherine, what you do in your spare time is your business." You answered as you attempted to walk away. "I admit that I should have called but I wasn't thinking." He answered and you nodded. "That's obvious." You said more to yourself and he pulled you back to him. "And you claim that you're not angry." He smirked and you attempted to turn away from him again but guided your face back to his. "I had time to think when you stopped answering my calls and I noticed that I found myself wishing that I would see your name." "What are you saying?" You asked. "That I would really like to kiss you because given the current circumstances we don't have time for the date." Elijah said softly and you giggled softly before pressing your lips to his in a shy kiss, Elijah pushed himself forward and connected your lips in a fuller more passionate kiss that you found yourself lost in.

Requests and general question!

#the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries one shot #the originals #the originals imagine #the originals oneshot #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikaelson one shot #imagine #oneshot #one shot #reader insert

[cursed-ice-spirits]

The Selwyn Conversation

When a confrontation with a pureblood fanatic leads to Summer Charn ( @thecursedvaultchild ) slipping out she’s a Selwyn in front of Rebecca Lord, this brings in a few realizations about the truth of Rebecca’s family as she studied with the Slytherin late at night. So what happens?

An ache crawled across the back of her neck the longer she sat against the wall. Wincing, Rebecca rubbed it and tilted her head back, hearing small cracks snapping. Blowing her hair out of her face, she huffed down at the huge book set in front of her, her eyes flickering over to the clock. It was late enough that the library closed. At this rate, they won’t get anything done. 

She and Summer had teamed up together to research the Vaults on their own. Seeing as the library wasn’t an option and they had to continue studying, they were hidden away in her hideaway, pouring over books and making note of information important for their research. Rebecca would have an easier time but... the confrontation Summer had with the pureblood bigot kept drifting back to her mind. It bothered her enough that she found herself glancing back at Summer, not knowing how to bring it up. 

It’s not that she's angry Summer didn't tell her. She never cared about the Sacred Twenty-Eight and she doubted she ever will. It’s that Summer’s grandfather, Rodolfo Selwyn apparently, hired her to watch over his granddaughter. 

And she had no idea how to bring it up.

Is my family really important enough for a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to hire constantly? I can bet on a Noble family but a Sacred Twenty-Eight? I don’t know… Mum, I wish you can answer my questions. 

"I can feel you looking at me, Bex." 

Rebecca flinched, realizing she was staring a little too long. Caught. Of course. She wasn't being discreet. Dammit Lord, that's your entire job description. 

Summer didn’t look up from her note taking, her finger stopping at a line in the book, her quill jotting down a note. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, her wand stuck in it. She looked tired, tired enough that she didn’t have the strength to be bubbly and bright.  "And I can tell it's not because I'm so beautiful and you're in awe. I'm silver-haired from the curse, not blind with old age. What's grinding your gears?"

Letting out a breath, Rebecca’s hand slowly drew into a stop, carefully setting her quill down. "It's about earlier today. With that dick ranting about blood status? You said you were a Selywn."

Summer pursed her lips, not looking pleased she brought it up. "Yeah. I did. What about it?"

"Nothing. I just didn't know until today."

Rebecca knew Summer was from a noble family but... she had no idea she was from a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. How to explain that her grandfather hired her to watch over her? How to explain she's from a family of assassins?

Summer shrugged, tapping the edge of her quill against the book restlessly. "Well, of course you wouldn't. That's my mum's name, not my da's. It's Summer Charn after all, not Summer Selwyn. I get enough attention for other things, I don't need to draw attention to my family."

“I can understand.” Rebecca bit her lip. Summer was probably curious. Rebecca never gave the impression that she cared about blood status, so what prompted this conversation? Should she answer that silent question? 

She debated for a while, before reluctantly giving in. Summer won't judge, won't she?

"My mum did business for noble families before she got ill," she said quietly, which was true. Her mother did do business for them. But as an assassin. "I've heard Selwyn thrown around a couple times, so I'm just curious. That's all."

Summer sighed, pushing the book away and leaning back. "That would explain a few things about you. And I'm not surprised, Grandda is involved in a lot of business of the families." She raised her eyebrows. "I'm more comfortable in Knockturn Alley than I'd ever openly admit. It's not… easy being from that kind of a family."

"I know. Mum always looks a little off after meeting with some of the families," Rebecca said, sounding tired. She's never allowed to sit in meetings with clients and the only reason she was allowed to hear Rodolfo out is because the assignment was for her specifically. 

About Summer. 

Summer fidgeted with her quill. "Yeah, the prestige and the expectations and the drama. It... it doesn't help that I'm the last of the Selwyn line. Grandda expects a lot of great things from me. I know he cares and he worries, but I just wish it wasn't, y'know, multiplied because of what family we are. It's nice to come here and get away from it all."

You have no idea how much, Summer, Rebecca thought, thinking of the assignment he gave her. You have no idea.

Rebecca released a shudder thinking about the training she went through. The summer before fourth year was fucking hell. Last summer was okayish but she still hated it enough that coming back here took a weight off her shoulders. 

"Here is great isn't it? We have friends here."

"It is." Summer looked over at Rebecca, a weak smile flashing over her face. "You're a Caldwell though. Things can't be very easy back home for you either."

Rebecca flinched violently. She didn’t tell Summer her mother’s surname. She opened her mouth to ask how she knew, until she remembered Rodolfo. 

Of course. If that man knew her mother as well as she suspected, and if Summer did mention her to him, then he would've heard about her mother’s marriage to her father, and recognize her surname. 

She snapped herself back to reality and relaxed her shoulders, leaning over her book and resting her chin in her palm, fingers grazing over her scars, hidden with charms. She thought of her Occlumency protecting her from the spirits, protecting her from her connection and sighed, shaking her head. "Not really."

Summer set down her quill and scooted closer. "Bex. Who hurts you? They've got a curse with their name on it." 

A surge of dread formed in her stomach. The conversation turned. To her. Great. Her face reddened with shame, keeping her eyes away. "It's nothing."

"Rebecca." Summer’s gaze was stern. It reminded her of Rodolfo, but warmer, which didn’t help. "You might not have realized it, but I'm observant. You abhor physical touch, you flinch when anyone puts their hands up, and you have a charm on your face. What's going on at home?"

"Who the hell told you about the hand part, Ethren?" Rebecca grumbled, folding her arms and remembering the argument she and Ethren had about the Ice Vault. 

"Don't blame, Eth. The dunderhead doesn't even realize when he gives stuff away to me. It's both infuriating and endearing." 

"Of course he did," Rebecca sighed in slight fondness. "It's just..." She paused, risking a glance at her friend, "Things were not okay after my brother left. Not at all."

Summer gently placed an arm around her. Rebecca paused, then allowed herself to lean into her. They’ve been friends long enough that she felt comfortable enough that she didn’t feel the need to flinch away. 

"I see." Her gaze turned distant. "Close relatives causing trouble is never fun. Always complications."

Rebecca stared down at her feet. "Yeah it sucks." 

She started this whole thing wanting her family back. She remembered being a first year; angry, traumatized, desperate, desiring to get her family back at all costs, thinking that if she gets Jacob back—everything will be okay…

How naive she was. 

"You're my friend, Bex,” Summer spoke, her voice soft. “If you ever need anything, just let me know. I wear a lot of hats. Hopefully at least one of them is useful to you."

Rebecca shifted and turned to her, cracking a tiny smile. "Thanks but I'll be fine. I've survived this long, I can survive another year." 

She’s been through hell. She has an ice curse but… She's not dead, that's a bonus. 

A trace of a frown flashed over Summer’s face. "Fine isn't happy and healthy, Bex. But... I know when to stop pushing. I can see I can't change your mind." Then the frown faded and she smiled faintly back.

"Thank you, but like I said, I'll be fine," she insisted. There’s no way in hell she’s telling Summer about her home life. There’s no way. She had talked about it exactly once before and that was a special case that was not going to be repeated.

 "Let's continue studying okay? This won't finish on its own."

Summer bit her lip. "Just... promise me you're not going to spread around that I'm a Selwyn. I trust you won't, but… People just don't need to know."

There was no hesitation on her part. Rebecca mimicked zipping her lips, smiling. "Of course I won't tell anyone. I've been keeping my curse a secret from everyone for so long after all. Besides, I'm Caldwell. I wouldn't want that passed around."

Summer chuckled. "All right, let's finish this studying."

#this one has.... slightly more tea tehe #rebecca lord #summer charn #hogwarts mystery #hphm #hphm fanfic #hphm fanfiction #hphm fic #lunar writes

[goldenballum]

I mean, yes the deaf community have definitely been done a little dirty here but before they all start grumbling too loud they should think about the poor demographic that Chantelles character represents. Look what they have to look forward to watching. Talk about grim, jesus. At the end of the day Bens op was a success. He’s not dead.

the deaf community has a right to be angry. just how I was angry at how they handled bexs suicide storyline. everyone has a right to be angry. its not down to 'theyre alive so thats fine' its the rep. its like how many of the lgbtq+ community is disappointed and angry all the time. many autistic people was angry at ollie's storyline. that isnt pulling away from chantelles storyline, thats hard to was an a non abuse victim, never mind having experienced it. people are allowed to feel what they feel

#anonymous

[datarevived]

– Ⅵ : ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇs PT.2 

" You know, I can not believe you some times. " " Mhmm... " " On some days, you're gloomy as a cloud, and others? You're high as a kite and face flat in a poor wolf's coat! " " ...Isso'fluffy... " " If we stay here much longer, he'll draft us in you know. " " Nnnnnnnnnn... " " Selene. " " Nnnnnnn!!hnhnnnnn. "

" You're worrying the dog, " Bex's voice came further disgruntled, the Exo standing few feet away from the portrait that was the Awoken latched and dug into a laying wolf nearly equal to her size. The creature having found itself comfortable in shade, just beneath a canopy tent that sat to the right of ceremonial torches and gong - the notorious Titan, known as the last remaining Iron Lord, standing before its' display and surrounded by a handful of other individuals. A second wolf, just as mighty, sitting at his side with amber eyes seeking like a predator to anyone who moved wrong.

" Either that, or its' partner there is going to get jealous of the attention, " the Exo nudged, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. The statement retracting the Awoken's face from snow-white pelt, a look of pure euphoria painted over starry freckles as she reaches a hand between its' ears, giving in a farewell ruffle before sitting up straight in her own space.

" Ah come on, don't tell me you've never wanted to pet a wolf, " Selene grinned, thoroughly content with their primary objective. The act of crossing legs and grabbing her ankles with both hands shadowing the attempt to move anytime soon.

" Oh, but I have, " arms crossed at the Warlock's chest - if he had features to do so, he would have retaliated with his own smirk. " Plenty, actually. Dogs, cats, birds - "

" -- You can't pet a bird. "

" Get close enough to one and try it, then! You can totally pet a bird, " he snarls, rolling his optics. " Point is, I've done a lot of things - plenty of things. Many things. Even petting birds. "

" Eh, that's cheating, " Selene shook her head, rolling her own eyes as she glanced over towards the crowd. The perspective of being flat on the floor even more daunting to their various sizes and armor -- planting that of a child in the wake of giants. " You're like a hundred years old or somethin'. Got all that fancy experience and wisdom under those robes of yours. "

" Hundreds' being relatively generous, " he mutters.

" Yeah? I can only imagine what that means for others, " she laughs. Attention thriving on the focus of people, voices belonging to too many making it difficult to match those who still wore their helmets in person. A moderate surprise to the many that were standing around waiting, patiently expecting the first match of the Banner to be called sooner than later. Even the Crucible match-maker, himself, stood nearer the Iron Lord in short banter and exchange of words. An exchange she was not looking forward to in theory, eventually needing to close her end of the deal.

" It's not... too bad, right? "

" What? Iron Banner? "

" No... like, the regular stuff. Crucible. "

" Whaaat? Nah, places' a playfield. Lord Shaxx keeps everyone on their A-Game and safety above all else, " Bex explained, sunset orbs meeting the conversation with its' topic. " It's meant to get Guardians in shape, anyway. Especially before bigger forces like the Red War and stuff. Woulda been great to have around back in the days, instead of just having to wing it, y'know? "

" I guess. "

" Don't worry on it too much! I'm sure you'll be in and out before ya'know it anyway. Lucky if you even get on the scoreboard by the end of it. Maybe y'got that beginners luck, " he shoots a thumbs up, optics canny of a risen smile. 

The Hunter's gaze unfortunately occupied elsewhere to recognize it - the familiar burn of blue and white catching the corner of her eye amongst the sea of people. The blonde who had been enraged before, the flaps of his Mark catching the wind as he fast-paced walked from one end of the balcony to the other, heading nearer the Bazaar with no intentions for a pit-stop. An ever-curious pull, unwarranted and indescribable. Selene pulls herself to her feet with uncertainty, stumbling a moment to catch her footing before turning back towards Bex.

" Did you see that? "

" Uhhh... see what? "

" The guy from earlier, " she points,  though shadow long gone that the man ever existed.

" The... who? What, the guy with Zavala? "

" Yeah, he - " before she could finish the thought, the sudden texture of fur meets beneath her hands, giving the Awoken a spook before looking down at the canine who preoccupied her time moments before. Its' muzzle, pointed in the direction of which she pointed, nose wrinkled in a sniff and short growl in its' throat before the wolf paces forward. It goes to the end of the balcony where stairs meet towards the Bazaar before sitting in question, eyes hampered upon the duo as if waiting for them to follow.

" I'll uh... I'll be right back, " Selene waves, motioning Bex to remain there while she followed. A spacious look of confusion now drawn across the Exo's faceplate, stunned a moment before raising both his hands in question. As if just like that, his friend had made better partner of a dog than he. 

How... tragic.

"Told'ya Screws, was over before it even started! "

- - -

Voices began to dull as air became less polluted with noise the further down the two traveled. The wolf continuing its' march before halting just before the curve of a doorway, sitting in stance as tail curls towards its' feet, ears pointed high. For all that she could, Selene merely followed in silence - blindly, unawares of what nature the creature had in store. She couldn't bring herself to question it - only that she knew she had to. A special feeling deep in her gut, that it would be worthwhile to solve secondary mystery before hunting down the man in blue and white.

What she did not recognize, however, was the the mystery would be two in the same. A series of voices ringing out from the other side of the arch, echoing against the brief metal pipes that lined the ceiling of the inner corridors to the Tower. One of the halls that led into storage rooms that had been plugged as living rooms, such as hers given to her by Hawthorne. Falling unaware to the fact she would be involuntarily spying on someone.

A duo of men, by the sounds.

    " If the Hidden are correct in their suspicion, this is too dangerous to go alone-- "     " It's too dangerous to be left alone, and too high a risk to bring more lives than necessary. "     " And what, your life will suffice? What of you if you die like the rest? "     " I won't. "     " And you can be so sure? What happens, then? That you find out the truth and cannot bring it back with you? Reckless and shallow? "     " I'm going to find answers, and that will lead us further to where we need to be. "     " You're being too brash about this Val. I beg of you, just listen to Zavala and- "     " I did not come here for your pleads, Vellguine! "     " Then why did you come?! "

The shouts having rung the halls like thunder, they send a shake through her spine and wince of features against the tension. Hunkered over, her hands instinctively grab back at the pelt of her guide, lightly squeezing in speechless vain as she continued to listen.

    " ...I came because we know better than anyone, that we don't always get what we want. "     " Valdourin... please. "     " I don't intend to go down as easily. But we cannot always prevent the unexpected... You're the last I have left. I figured it only right to tell you up front. I owe you that, at least. "

The remains of the conversation falling dull, a stalemate between silence and muttered whispers, the wolf pulls from its' seat and nudges against the Awoken in company. As if auto-pilot, obliging in its' direction as she stands back to her height, hand still connected with pelt as the creature leads her back up the stairs and towards the wake of cheering Guardians. 

She finds Bex not too far off from where she left him, now sitting on one of the benches near some of the gardening plants. Just beneath the canopy as fur leaves her hand to return to its' most comfort in the shade, a gentle nod offered in return for its' help as she sat next to the sulking Exo. They go without speaking for a few moments, she in process of what she just heard, and he, in childish tantrum, pouting like a poor fool.

-- Climbing boots catch Selene's ear from the side before she speaks, the blue and white Titan leaving the bay and heading through the Courtyard back to the Hanger. Valdourin. 

" ...Hey Bex. What else do you know about the Ward? "

" . . . "

" . . .Bex? "

" . . .Not 'lot. "

" . . .I think we should talk to him. "

" . . .Why? "

" I just... have this feeling, " she turns in her seat, half expecting to come face to face with the Exo, had he not been hard-line staring at the horizon to his right. Arms still crossed against his chest, muted expression cursed by unmovable parts. Yet tone alone told the story of a man -- and had it not been for his optics and uncanny eye-brows ( were they eyebrows? eyelids? shifty-bits? ), it gave enough character to reflect that of bias man-child. " ...Whats wrong with you? "

" Wrong with me? Nothing wrong with me. Nothing at all. Nada. Not a thaaaaaang. "

" -- ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ. "

The third voice of the bench, Screws, having popped toward Selene's left as she peered over upon Ghost. A raise of her own eyebrows at the response -- and Bex is suddenly looking her way. Well, Screws's way. Angry eye-squint-lids.

" And this is why I don't ask for your input! "

" You're upset I left you --? " Selene cracks, half in trying not to crack a contagious smile of laughter. " Oh, please! It was a stealth mission --! We woulda been toast if we both went! "

" Oh, but the dog can go. "

" I feel like the dog has a bit more common sense than the two of us combined. "

An audible huff -- optics slant in a lined stare before shaking his head rapidly and dropping arms from their stiffness. A few grumbles of inaudible words prowl the orange sensors in his plate before standing back up from the bench, extending a hand to the other reluctantly. She'd win this one.

" So - what do you think? " she asks, accepting the full invitation to stand.

" I think we should stay out of other peoples' business unless they make a good meal. "

" Well what if he cooks? "

" If he cooks something other than grenades that are thrown at the enemy with the next high score? Sure, we'll talk it out, " Bex sassed, nodding along with his words. " But until then -- I think it's a bad idea, and you're getting your head a bit too close to drowning. Keep it above water. "

" But he needs help -- I heard it, " Selene argues, tilting her head slight. " I don't know what he's doing but it's clearly something more than one person can handle. "

" And I can assure you, a guy like that? Has his own fireteam that is very capable. Now come on, Shaxx just signed up the next ring of Crucible. You're gonna miss out if we don’t get down there. "

" Beeex! "

" Talk it after the match, green leaf! Let's gooo~! "

#✦ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴ / drabble #destiny 2 short story #destiny 2 drabble #destiny 2 rp #d2 rp

[jessiewre]

Day 59

Tues 3rd Mar

🏔Moshi to Arusha 🚍

It was time for us to leave Moshi and move onto Arusha, a city 2 hours away renowned as the starting point for all the big safari parks.

I went up early for brekkie on the rooftop and this time, we had bananas but there appeared to be no coffee. I asked the woman and she confirmed it and was just like ‘Sorry, no coffee’.

As I write this, I have the overwhelming feeling that it definitely feels like the right time to step back from the blog. First, I’m telling you about there being no bananas at breakfast. Jesus. Then the next day there is no coffee. I’m thinking WOW. This is boring isn’t it. But then again, some of you may be so bored reading about Coronaviru that this is a welcome break.

Well, it did jazz up a bit and get exciting, cos I looked up and coffee had appeared. JUST LIKE THAT. Thats right! One minute it was there, then the next, Poof! Like magic! God knows how long it had been there, the woman didn’t feel the need to mention it to me despite knowing I wanted coffee. Absolute JOKE.

We spent the morning packing our bags and debating what our plan should be, while Phil huffed and puffed, flipping between angryman and stresshead. He had definitely got out on the wrong side of the bed, but as the great Irish philosopher Ronan Keating once said, Life is a rollercoaster. Well, Phil was certainly riding that rollercoaster. He was hot and cold like a broken tap I tells ya.

Despite Phil’s multiple attempts to get one, not having a SIM card was irritating him a lot, especially considering we needed to ring various people about hotels and safaris. So after a bit more grumbling, he went off like a true moody hero to try Vodacom again. I ‘minded the bags’ and did some hotel research (ie. I had a nice long chat with Evie and then spoke to Luke & Bex about house viewings).

Despite the 10am check out time (its more a suggestion than a rule right?), I sat in our hotel room with the door open to imply I was leaving ‘any minute’ and positioned a towel hung on the bed pole, perfectly hiding my face from the doorway view to ensure I avoided eye contact with any hotel workers passing by 😏.

I thought about Phil, all alone in that annoying phone shop, and felt a pang of guilty. Or was it hunger? Hard to know. But either way, I sent him some WhatsApp messages to give the impression I was doing lots of excellent research (that should Cheer him up, I thought), and crossed my fingers that the hilarious GIFS I was sending would put him in an AMAZING mood. He loves a GIF does our Phil. After the pain of sim card buying, I knew it could go either way but at least he’d only get the messages once he’d eventually got a working sim so I had a chance...

Well, I soon saw the ticks ☑️ turn that beautiful shade of blue and nervously waited for a response.

THANKFULLY I got two of the best emoji’s I could have hoped for.

🕺🏻 🕺🏻

It was then I knew that Sweetbox were right back in the 90s - Everything’s Gona be Alright.

My overstaying-my-welcome plan worked for 2 whole hours and I made it to midday sat in the hotel room before I got a polite knock on the door to ask me to vacate.

‘Ohh I didn’t realise the time, of course I’ll leave straight away’.

Phil returned and strongly declared we should go to Milan’s Indian for a quick lunch before going to get the bus. Well, the awkward thing was, I didn’t want to eat curry for lunch (not a sentence I say often)...but then again, I also really didn’t want to risk messing with Phil’s mood...

I decided to try the softly, softly approach and lightly suggested we go to the Kilimanjaro coffee lounge.

Phil jerked his face round to me angrily and the atmosphere instantly went ice cold.

‘What is WRONG with Milans?? You loved the food there and its really close by!’.

I quietly explained again that although it was a lovely place, I simply didn’t want curry for lunch, and he obviously couldn’t argue with that. Such is life. But it definitely REALLY annoyed him and he stropped out of the hostel with his bags in search of a tuc tuc.

We both stood on the corner of the street in blasting heat waiting for a tuc tuc to appear and for some reason, there were NONE. Everytime we saw one and waved it down, it would go zooming past and we would see there were already people in the back. Phil was ready to burst with annoyance but as the sun began to nearly melt our heads, I finally waved one down.

We went to put our bags in and then got a shock as we realised there was already a woman in the back!

‘No problem no problem’ declared the driver as he saw the look on our faces, and he ushered at me to put my rucksack into the back. Well, that was harder than it looked.

‘Oh for Gods sake’ Phil said under his breath, but not so much that we all didn’t hear him and I started to attempt getting my bag in.

Phil watched on in disbelief and was like ‘This is ridiculous! Where are we meant to sit??’

Phil then tried to get his bag in while I tried to sit in the front with the driver, but the driver was like ‘Nah you go in back’, then the woman was sort of holding Phil’s massive rucksack and there was not really any room for us and Phil just lost his rag completely 😂

‘Right, forget it! Take the bags out Jess! I AM NOT GETTING THIS TUC TUC!’

I had a point like.

Thankfully, a nearby boda driver had a great loud whistle and managed to hail another tuc tuc down straightaway, just before Phil spontaneously combusted, and we went to Kili coffee lounge where there were too many witnesses for Phil to maintain his grumpy face for too long. PHEW.

I enjoyed a simple cheese tomato toastie with fries (opposite of a curry I’d say) and now that he’d calmed down, Phil told me about his morning visit to the phone shop. While he was stood in the phone shop, stressing out and getting super angry and wound up by the slow process, he went to look at his phone and clicked to unlock it. To his utter shock, on the screen was an image he’d NEVER seen before, and it was one of those ‘Inspirational Quote’ memes.

It said:

If you can’t handle stress

You can’t handle success

He stood in total amazement, starring at the screen, wondering how the powers that be had managed to target him in this way, how google was so onto him. How had they known he was MEGA stressed and how had they got this image onto his phone?!?! Maybe it was a message from GOD?!

WELL after further investigation (the back button), he discovered that it was the profile picture of the phone shop guys. He’d added the guys number as part of the sim registration process, then he’d accidentally clicked on this guys whatsapp profile pic without realising, then locked his phone 😂😂😂😂😂.

Anyway, back to the cafe, it had been 30 minutes of good vibes so naturally Phil started to dip again, this time stressing about getting a bus to Arusha. After all the bus journeys we’ve ever done, I have NO IDEA why this simple 2 hour journey was getting to him so much, but hey ho sometimes these things don’t make sense do they. He’s a complicated and simple fellow in equal measures.

We put on our bags and walked to Tahmeed buses to see if by chance they had one of their nice buses passing through anytime soon, so we could avoid the super basic local buses that stop every 5 minutes. Much to Phil’s joy, they said SURE there’s one departing in about 15 minutes and that was the first time that day that Phil reeally smiled, ya know like with all his teeth and his eyes. It was beautiful.

The bus arrived about 30 minutes later (not too bad by African standards!) and we took a seat, only to realise it was actually some guys seat who had just jumped off the bus for a drink - and he just happened to have a huge machete on his belt! He seemed fine with it though and sat somewhere else! The bus guys weirdly would not allow anyone to have their windows open, instead insisting that we have the AC on. I kept opening my window a bit anyway as the AC above my head was blocked and I needed the fresh air, but the bus man was getting really annoyed. The locals wanted their windows open too but the bus man was stomping round the bus shutting them all and shouting at people, while people shouted back at him. As people coughed and sneezed 🤧 as humans tend to do, I wondered how many germs were getting regurgitated back through the system during this time of hyper virus mania... 🦠

The woman next to me fell asleep on me for most of the journey then we arrived to Arusha town. As we’d read would happen, we were completely HOUNDED on arrival by men trying to sell us safaris. One guy pretended to work for the bus company while getting my bag to hand me, I was like Dude I can get my own bag.

They were all talking at once trying to give us business cards, one guy said another guy was a liar, another accused another of being a thief, and it was just chaos and frankly, harassment - so Phil told them all to Frig the Frig off and we walked the 6 minute walk to our hotel Raha Leo Inn.

We walked through the door feeling immediate relief to be away from the hassling streets, when suddenly the door opened behind us and the guy who’d pretended to be working for the bus company walked in and started to try and sell us a safari!I was like Hey I thought you said you worked for the bus company mate, and he was like ‘Yes yes, they are my friends, but I have safari’. What the hell does that even mean haha. He even pointed to a safari vehicle parked outside and said ‘Uh, this is my vehicle’.

Uh, I don’t think it is mate 😂

But in an attempt to make him go away, I took the card from him and said Thanks, I’ll be in touch if we need to, ba bye now, ba bye.

It was too late though, Phil was FAR too annoyed by it all and he went for it.

‘You have just FOLLOWED US here and now you come INSIDE the hotel to hassle us?? I don’t want your card! I will NOT be doing a safari with you, take you card and please leave’.

Incase the guy wasn’t clear, Phil shoved the card into his hand while he said it.

The guy was rather disgruntled at all this but left the hotel looking defeated. Phil puffed his chest out a bit and gave his chest some big fist blows in a gorilla like fashion.

About 5 minutes later, I watched a completely different man drive off in the safari vehicle the guy had been referring to...

The hotel was clean and pleasant enough, although the lack of a TOILET SEAT was a little strange 😂. Also we noticed a man walk into the hotel and straight up to the social area without being stopped by the staff, and he turned out to be another safari seller. Hmm. We made a mental note to keep an eye on our valuables and not leave them out anywhere...

I was back to normal and ready to eat curry by dinner time so we went to find the the LP recommended Hot Plate restaurant. Directly opposite it was a stall of crazy shirts and we couldn’t resist a quick look before we headed inside, immediately finding a sweet shirt that we had to buy for 20k tsh (about £6.50). The young lads running the stall were buzzing, though why there needed to be 4 of them working I’ll never know. Thats like 1 guy for every 2 shirts available. We did the crazy handshake to celebrate the purchase which they really lolled at.

Obviously then I washed my hands - while singing the chorus of 21 seconds by So Solid Crew.

Our dinner was soooo good - maybe the best masala fries so far, a delicious dosa, and loads of other lovely food - and we went to find a tuc tuc to get back, eventually finding one at the petrol station, and took our huge doggy bag of food with us.

On return, we found out one of the hotel staff had her phone taken that very day! We told them they really needed to invest in a lock on the front door so only staff and guests could enter. They agreed with us and so will probably do absolutely nothing about it.

After spending almost 11 hours of his time searching, Phil FINALLY found the official marathon snaps of himself and was (understandably of course) very excited to see them, so we had a good look through those for about an hour (there were 10 photos after all) before finally getting back to The Crown.

3rd

[penguin-writes-books]

Little White Lies - Chapter 6

TJ woke to the loud, angry tone of his alarm for the first time since the morning of Molly's death, his head immediately throbbing as he sat up. Amber was sleeping next to him, as she had on occasion since the day they came home from the hospital. "Ambs, wake up," he mumbled, shaking her awake. "I hate you." "Mhm, I know. We have school today, though. In...two hours." "Fuck," Amber grumbled, mostly to herself. "Why did we choose today?" "...It- it's Monday?" TJ offered. "And we have to get back to school, Ambs." "I know, I know. But I started my period like two days ago and we just ran out of pads and tampons," she huffed, burying her face back in her pillow. "Listen, I'll run to the store. You get ready, alright?" TJ offered, grabbing Amber and his set of car keys and turning to his bedroom door. "Thanks, Teej," she said, reluctantly pushing the covers off of herself and starting down the hall to get dressed. "Eh, don't mention it. You're the one just casually bleeding out every damn month," TJ responded, jogging outside with a quick call over his shoulder to their mom. 

TJ stepped through the automatic doors of the supermarket, pausing for a moment to glance in both directions as his eyes adjusted to the fluorescent lighting overhead. He took a right, before turning into his aisle. He was halfway through doing his damnedest to calculate the best deal when someone said his name, startling him from his reverie of numbers and long division symbols. "TJ?" He glanced up to find Andi Mack, of all the people in the world. "Oh, hey," he greeted, chuckling to himself at the awkward nature of the situation. "Nice to see you again?" "Yeah," Andi laughed slightly, stepping into the aisle. "May I ask why you're... here, specifically?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to what was effectively a wall of period products in front of TJ. "Amber needed pads," he laughed, quickly deciding on and grabbing a box, 99% sure it was the same one they always had at their house. "Ah. And here I am trying to convince Bex that she really doesn't need more fabric softener. We literally have four bottles of it at our apartment." "Hey, you never know! Maybe she likes really, really soft clothes?" TJ defended. "Listen, I've been meaning to talk to you, do you have a minute?" "Y-yeah, of course. As long as I catch Mom before she walks out of here with a lifetime supply of fabric softener, one less deed to a business, and a date at bankruptcy court." "I wanted to thank you for being there for Amber at the funeral," he said. "And I- I wanted to tell you that I think you should tell her." "Tell her what?" "Tell her you're in love with her," TJ said. "Yeah okay, like it's that simple," Andi scoffed. "I know, I know. I just- I think you should tell her." "Does she even like me? Or girls in general?" Andi asked skeptically. "I don't know?" TJ bluffed. "You are literally her twin brother, of course you know." "No, I think you don't understand. I literally have no idea, Andi. That girl is an enigma and a half. Just talk to her, alright?" "Fine, I will. But I have to get going." Andi nodded goodbye to TJ, before turning to walk away. She stopped just before rounding the corner, turning to face TJ. "You and Amber come back to school today, don't you?" "Yeah, we do. I'll see you there?" "As long as I can still afford not to have a job after Mom's fabric softener spree." "Jesus, I sincerely hope you're exaggerating for the sake of comedy."

TJ took a deep breath, fiddling with the bottom of his hoodie. He and Amber were wearing similar things, both having chosen primarily black outfits. If asked why, they'd mumble something or other about their clothing choices relying simply on whatever it was that tumbled from their closets that morning. However, both knew that their sudden affinity for dark, muted clothing revolved around their wish to blend into the rest of the world today, to melt away from everyone else and bleed into near invisible blurs of black fabric and blonde hair. "Okay?" Amber asked, glancing at her brother. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Let's just- get this over with?" Amber nodded, taking a step toward the front doors. The twins' first synchronized footstep into the hallway fell heavily against the shiny linoleum like a textbook being dropped to the ground from the arms of a clumsy student, drawing all eyes in the hallway to them. A quiet murmur spread through the hall as they felt a hundred pairs of eyes resting on them, the sympathy surrounding them nearly tangible as they walked. "I hate this so much. Why can't they just leave us alone?" TJ whispered to Amber. "Me too," she agreed, turning toward her locker. TJ opened his next to her, silently putting his books in his bag. He pulled the tall stack of homework he'd done out of the severely worn backpack, rifling through it and putting the homework for his afternoon classes back in his locker before swinging it shut with a satisfying clang. "I've gotta go to class," TJ mumbled, training his eyes on the ground to avoid students' gazes.

TJ and Cyrus walked side by side toward Mrs. Bailey's room, Cyrus doing his best to shoo people's gazes away from them as they walked. When TJ glanced up to find Cyrus angrily mouthing something about 'leaving him alone' to a freshman, he stopped dead in his tracks, turning to face everyone in the hallway. "Hi, can I have your attention for a second? Yes, my sister is dead. Yes, she died almost a month ago in the hospital. I know, I was there. Now, if you could all stop boring me with sympathy that I know you do not intend sincerely, that'd be lovely." With that, he pivoted on his heel, turning down the hall. "I'm sorry, Teej. I tried to get them to stop spreading rumors and stuff," Cyrus apologized, following him into Mrs. Bailey's room. "It's fine, Underdog. You didn't do anything wrong." TJ responded, taking his seat alongside his best friend as the final bell rang loudly through the room. "Alright, class!" Mrs. Bailey called for the attention of the class. "This class period is going to be dedicated to your projects. Today, we're going to write a quick reflection on your projects thus far. Those interviewing partners, write a short summary of what you've found about your partners. And those being interviewed, reflect upon your experience. In fifteen minutes, turn them in and keep working on asking questions." Cyrus quickly got to work, writing out a string of blatantly emotionless adjectives describing TJ. He desperately wanted to avoid writing anything too personal about him. When fifteen minutes was up, he turned it in with a sigh, thoroughly unimpressed with his work. He turned back to talk to TJ, sitting next to him and opening his computer. "Alright, Teej. Where is your favorite place on Earth?" "Hmm... I don't really know. I guess, there's this tree in the woods behind my house. It's pretty, and you can see the whole city from the top." "I wanna see it sometime!" Cyrus exclaimed. "Okay, Underdog. Whatever you say," TJ winked, smiling slightly. "Cyrus, can I talk to you for a second?" Mrs. Bailey asked from her desk behind them. "Yeah of course, what's up?" Cyrus asked, standing up and stepping toward her desk. "This." She held up Cyrus's work. "Is not good enough. I want it done again by the end of the period. And I want it to be done right this time, or you and TJ both get zeroes, no matter what his essay says." "But he just got back from bereavement leave!" "I know, Cyrus. But I also know you can do better than some adjectives and a full name." "...Fine."

At the end of class, Cyrus was handed back his newly written paper with a bright red 100 at the top, circled multiple times. "Oooh, can I read it now?" TJ asked excitedly. Cyrus held it away from him, shaking his head in disapproval. "No!" he exclaimed. "It's not like you don't already know everything I wrote in here!" "Not true! I wanna know what you wrote about me!" TJ huffed, lunging forward and pulling the paper from his hands as the bell rang, allowing students to file out of the classroom. TJ, however, stayed back with Cyrus, leaning back against their table and reading down the paper.

Timothy James Kippen's favorite color is blue. If you were to ask him why, he'd say it's because blue is the color of the sky and of the ocean, of possibility and languid happiness. But he won't tell you that blue is laced into his mother's eyes. That the first gift she ever gave her daughters lay in the clear blue shining in their eyes. He won't tell you that he's spent years wishing for the crystal blue eyes he wasn't given. Instead, he fell into green. Timothy James Kippen's least favorite color is green. He'll never tell you why, but he knows it's because the very green he holds in his eyes was a gift from the one person he's never wanted a gift from. The one gift he could never return, etched permanently into his eyes. TJ is woven out of threads made of midnight walks in the dark, 11:11 wishes, movie ticket stubs, and the few pages precious enough to have been torn from the spines of their journals. He is shelves upon shelves of books, all adorned with notes in black ink along the margins, and countless weathered atlases and world maps, each marked with places he wants to go, things he wants to see, people he wants to meet. He is warm, gentle, blue cotton. But he's been dyed green. The dye has stiffened him, tangled the threads that weave through him. He's slowly washing the green away, softening again. But with time, maybe the dye will fade completely. Maybe he'll be warm and kind and loving again. Maybe he'll be blue again. But for now, he's settled for teal.

#andi mack #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #little white lies fic

[itoldheraboutyou]

i feel different - chapter 4

you can read previous chapters here: ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ao3 link

notes:  oh my god. i am so sorry lol. i know i told you guys not to hold me to my schedule (thanks for doing that by the way) but i just feel so bad about saying you’d get a chapter weekly and then just leaving for 3 weeks. i really didn’t think i was gunna get burnt out as quick as i did, but here we are. from now on, there will be no schedule, i’m sorry! you’ll get content though, don’t worry. anyway, enjoy. ;)

chapter 4

“but then she-“

“got mad at you, i know.” amber mumbles as she clears the table behind me. “you told me.”

“amber i’m having a crisis-“

“when are you not having a crisis?!” she spits frustratingly, slamming the plates she’d taken from the other table onto mine.

“well sorry my problems are bothering you!” i retort, crossing my arms.

amber rolls her eyes. “god, you’re such a drama queen. jonah, your problems aren’t bothering me, but my break ended 15 minutes ago. as much as i’d love to play therapist for you, i have a job.” damn, that stung. i bite my lip and lift my arms to rest on the table, backing off for the time being. amber sighs, putting her hand on my shoulder. “thank you. call me later, alright? i charge $300 a phone call.”

i swat at her arm, a small, amused smile spreading on my face. one thing that would never change about amber as that she’s blunt, always has been always will. and she never sugarcoated anything even if it stings, like right now. amber gives me a final, thankful nod before heading off towards the kitchen. i might as well get out of here, amber hates when i hang around while she’s working for reasons i just witnessed. my bad. i’m about to stand up when in my peripheral vision when i see cyrus walk through the door. he spots me almost immediately, and i, without thinking, wave him over.

“hey.” he smiles, sliding into the booth across from me. i’ve always liked that smile, it always seems brighter around me.

“hey.”

“so, what’s up?” he asks, not even hesitating before delving into my basket of baby taters.

“literally nothing.”

“well,” cyrus says, standing up apruptly. “let’s go then.”

“what?”

“andi told me you wanted my job. the shop is empty and bowie is busy working at the music store, he left with a ton of stuff to do. we’re gunna go do it.” he says like i should’ve known. to be fair, what i should’ve known is that saying i wanted the job at judy bloom’s was going to come back to bite me in the ass. is this a bite though? i get to hang out with cyrus. “well, are you coming?”

i nod, getting up from my seat with a smile. cyrus smiles back, looking almost relieved. i don’t know why he would, i could never say no to him.

•••

“so what’re we doing?” i ask absentmindedly as we walk the streets of shadyside. cyrus glances at me fleetingly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his chinos.

“well, i’m gunna be filling arrangement orders and you are gunna be doing the dirty work... because you’re obviously much more equipped.”

“oh, is that right?” i tease him, a small smile forming on his lips. “i’d be flattered if it weren’t for the fact that i know you’re just afraid of nature.”

“it’s a healthy fear!” he persists.

“why did you get a job here then?” i ask as we approach the shop. cyrus pulls open the door, letting it swing closed after i’ve let myself in.

“i like putting arrangements together, or, the flower part. the other stuff i didn’t think i’d have to do.” he replies, grabbing a pair of gloves off the counter and handing them to me.

“and why do i need these?” i raise an eyebrow, cautiously taking them from him.

“i told you i’m making arrangements, i need you to dethorn some roses.”

“and how am i more equipped for this?” i chuckle, sliding my fingers through a glove.

“because my hands are fragile!” he says matter-a-factly. “you play frisbee, i figured yours would be tougher and like, calloused.”

i let out a full laugh at cyrus’ conclusion causing him to pout. “cyrus, i’m not playing volleyball, jesus. throwing a frisbee around won’t give you callouses.”

cyrus reaches out, snatching my other ungloved hand from my side. “it’s tougher than mine though, don’t you feel it? my skin is like tissue paper compared to yours.” the feeling of cyrus’ hand in mine is surprisingly familiar, or it should be. i let out a breath, my shoulders loosening up. cyrus pulls my hand towards him, turning it over palm up, as if showing me. “see?”

i nod, and he lets go, walking behind the counter. “so where are the roses?” i ask, looking around.

cyrus points to a huge pile sat in front of him and i grumble sheepishly, saying some kind of excuse for my unintelligence. i grab a rose and start picking at it, thorn by thorn, as cyrus rolls out some paper and starts arranging.

“you never answered my question from last time. before we, ya know, got trapped.” i say, shaking off a particular thorn that had gotten caught in my glove into the trash cyrus had kicked out from under the counter.

“what question?” he asks, the same focused look on his face that was there that night. it takes a lot for me not to get distracted by it.

“why you’re into all this.” i wave a gloved hand over his current project.

“i believe you asked me when and not why,” he corrects me, and i make a face back. “and i answered you, just kind of always.”

“well okay, why then? what’s the tea?”

cyrus’ hands stop abruptly, and i realize that he’s gaping at me.

“did you just say what’s the tea?!”

“ya, amber taught it to me.” i let slip, hoping he doesn’t get angry over the fact that that insinuates i hang out with her. instead, he bursts out laughing, literally doubling over he gets so worked up.

after a minute or so, he straightens ups and says through heavy breaths; “tell her i love her, oh my god,” calmed down for the most part.

“better than docious?” he turns back to his flowers, still giggling. “way better.”

“alright, i get it, you didn’t need to say way.” i joke, picking off another thorn and letting it fall into the trash can.

“so the tea is,” he emphasizes tea, and i catch him smiling to himself. “flowers have their own language.”

“language?”

“ya so, i’m making this bouquet for austin knight-“

“knight? are you talking about cece’s neighbors?” i ask, cyrus nods.

“mhm. according to austin, him and lilian had a fight, and purple hyacinth means “i’m sorry.” he places one last branch of foliage into his bouquet of purple, and then wraps it.

“what do these mean?” i wonder, resorting to scraping the stem, causing multiple thorns to pop off.

“love.” he answers simply, finishing off the white bow he’d tied around the hyacinths and then set them down gently into a large vase. “but only the red ones. yellow ones mean friendship, white means sympathy, and pink ones mean gratitude.”

“well shit,” i exclaim with a lopsided grin, it’s intriguing to say the least. i like that, i don’t know. i like that a simple gesture that i never gave any thought to before now has meaning. maybe that’s why cyrus likes them so much, maybe he relates.

“those ones?” i point to a a certain bucket on the bottom shelf.

“jonah, i’m not where you are i can’t see them.” he chides with an eye roll. “what color are they?”

“orange.” i answer him, straining my neck to examine it further.

“well you’re probably looking at orange lilies, those mean hatred.”

“damn, so you can be like, totally fake to someone?” i ask, letting out a whimper when my sliding technique backfires and gets me stabbed. “fuck, these gloves don’t even work!” cyrus chuckles, glancing over at me.

“do i need to get the first aid kit again?”

“cyrus, i’m dethorning a rose, what do you want from me?” i whine, shaking my hand around wildly knowing that it’s probably not doing anything. cyrus just chuckles, shaking his head fondly at me as i struggle.

“hey, what did the flowers i gave bex and bowie mean?” i ask, ripping the glove off my hand.

cyrus bites his lip, bring his eyes back to what’s in front of him. “uh, good luck and kindness.” i nod, too distracted with my finger to really think about it. “speaking of,” he clears his throat. “how was dinner?”

i groan, shoving my hand back in the glove despite the dull ache. “didn’t andi tell you?”

“she did, but i wanna know your side of the story... if you wanna tell me.”

i pick up another rose, going back to removing the thorns individually. i almost smile at cyrus caring about what i have to say. “what if you have other motives?” i joke, though i am worried about that.

“like what? telling andi? this is your stuff to figure out, i don’t want to be involved. besides, she may be one of my best friends but you’re important to me too.” he says nonchalantly, walking out from behind the counter and bending down to grab what i think are tulips. i lick my dry lips, his last sentence ringing in my ear.

“well, i did space out. like i wasn’t mentally there. just thinking of some- some stuff.” which is the truth. “stuffs been like, weird, i guess.”

“is everything okay? are you okay?” cyrus asks, setting down the flower in his hand and looking me dead in the eyes. i could say yes, but i’m tired. i’m really tired.

“not... really?”

cyrus rests his elbows on the counter, smiling sympathetically at me. “okay,” i give him a questioning look, biting my tongue. maybe i shouldn’t of said anything, god i really shouldn’t of. did i totally just fuck up? “well what’s wrong?”

i let out a breath i didn’t know i was holding. “i just get like, overwhelmed sometimes ya know?” is that too much? does he even care? of course he cares, why would he have asked then? i realize i’m arguing with my anxiety and i try and drown it out.

“i do, and it sucks. like it just hits you out of nowhere and you’re like “okay, gotta deal with this now, it’s not like i was doing anything important!” we laugh, and i smile down at the rose in my hands. it’s the last one.

“that’s exactly what it feels like.” cyrus opens his mouth to say something else, but then my phone goes off in my pocket. i fish it out, skimming over the texts from andi.

- can you come over? we need to talk about friday

i look up at cyrus who’s started to work again, messing with various foliage branches. “its andi, she wants to talk. you don’t mind if i-“

“no,” he interrupts, his eyes never leaving the foliage. “go ahead, i get it. thanks for helping me.”

i take off the gloves and set them down next to the new dethorned pile of roses and head to the door. the doors open and i have a foot out before i stop dead in my tracks. “i’ll text you.”

he still doesn’t look at me, but i can see his lips turn up. “okay.”

•••

should i be nervous? i don’t know, she didn’t give me any indication that i should be. then why does it feel like the anxiety is slowly creeping up my throat? i bite down hard on my lip and attempt to swallow any fear i have as i walk up the steps to andi’s apartment building. god, my heart rate is way too high for a simple talk. i start going over my apology in my head, making sure it’s absolutely perfect. i can’t take any chances. it takes me a second, but before i know it i’m knocking on her door. the next fifteen seconds are absolute grueling, what does she need to say to me? i can’t even try and reassure myself before andi opens the door, looking less than pleased. there’s no smile, or happy kiss hello, but it’s not like i was expecting that.

“hey, come in.” she offers, opening the door up wider for me to step in. as soon as she closes the door, an uncomfortable aura washes over the room. i can practically feel the awkward as we just stand there, staring at each other. finally, andi sighs, going to sit on the couch. i follow, hoping that’s what she wants to me to do. it’s still just as awkward, but now we’re sitting down.

“can i go first?” i blurt out, the silence becoming too much. “please?” i give her a pleading look, but she’s not looking at me.

andi doesn’t look surprised, relieved maybe. she nods, and i take a deep breath. “i am so sorry about dinner. i did space out, that wasn’t a lie, but being tired was not an excuse for how rude i came off-“

“you’re right, it wasn’t.” she interrupts, her voice icy.

“and i will apologize to bex and bowie also. but andi, i want you to know that i did know how important that dinner was for you- for us. and i wanted it to be a turning point too.”

andi’s breath hitches and she slowly runs her hands down her legs, her eyes trained on the carpet. “did you?” her anger seems to have dissipated into genuine curiosity. she turns towards me, her eyes still attached to the carpet. “did you want it to be a turning point?” i open my mouth to answer, but she holds up a hand. “and don’t even think about lying to me like you have been. i deserve the truth,” our eyes lock at the last word. “jonah.

“i...” it takes everything in me to keep my breathing fairly level. i’m too focused on calming myself down than her words, but one phrase in particular does resonate. she does deserve the truth, she deserves more than i’m willing to give her. and does that make me a bad person? or does it make me confused? “it depends on what you mean by turning point.”

she throws her hands up, practically jumping off the couch. “okay, see, this is what you do, jonah. you make it so you’re not technically lying but it’s never a straight answer. god, who even are you? this is not the jonah beck i know.”

i stand up too, turning on her. “and who’s that? who’s the jonah you know because i sure as hell don’t know who i am!” it’s more of a whine than anything as there’s no venom in my voice, but it’s the most truthful thing i’ve said to her in weeks. i look down at my hands, a little stunned at my own confession, letting myself slowly sit back onto the couch. andi is just as surprised, if not more. she sits down beside me again, seemingly mellowed out a bit.

“what do you mean?” she asks cautiously after i’ve regained some sobriety.

“what do you mean what do i mean? we’re teenagers right?” i try and play it off as if i’ve already come to terms with this and i’ve known for a long time, but this is really the first time i’ve admitted it to myself. “aren’t we all still figuring out who we are?”

“ya, no, you’re totally right. i just... you have to know what i mean when i say you’ve been acting different though.” she responds, trying her hand at a more gentle approach.

“i know.” i say with a shaky breath, losing more and more of the reigns as time passes.

“so, i think we need to take a break-“

“what?!” i practically yelp, panicked. “i- i thought we just came to an understanding?”

“we did,” she shrugs. “and i appreciate the honesty. but that still doesn’t change the fact that you weren’t thinking of this dinner the way i was thinking of it.”

“no, andi,” i chuckle, trying to cover up how quick and sporadic my breathing’s gotten. “i was.” the words die on my tongue, and i realize what a blatant lie that is. though i knew she was thinking of it like that, i had never felt the same way. though i knew she wanted this to be the next step, i never did.

“you weren’t though.” she says bitterly. “and we both know it. and honestly, it’s my fault. we’ve been doing this since the 7th grade, jonah. you say one thing and mean another.” she gets up, making her way towards the door. she opens it, and gives me an expectant look. “we’re taking a break.”

i start violently shaking my head, tripping over words left and right. “andi please, andi, i wanted- i want it, please!” she just shakes her head, looking away from me. i take the opportunity and walk out, pretending as if i’m not on the brink of an anxiety attack.

•••

“amber? amber, andi, she, i can’t breath, i can’t move, please come- come get me,” i heave into my phone which i’ve managed to put on speaker. i’m currently sat on the sidewalk a block away from andi’s place, absolutely frozen with fear. i’ve done the breathing exercises and now i’ve just absolutely given up, allowing myself to panic and my insides to scream and cry and not stop.

“i’m on my way, where are jonah? do you know?” despite the fact that i’m practically incoherent, she sounds pretty calm.

“a block- a block from andi’s. center street.”

it takes amber approximately 3 minutes to get here. and those 3 minutes were even more grueling than the 15 seconds i spent waiting for andi to open the door. this was a different kind of grueling though, and it was on top of agonizing fear. her car pulls up in front of me, and she’s by my side in seconds.

“jonah, hey, hey, breathe.” she coos, grabbing my hand for some stability.

the breathing doesn’t work, but i knew it wouldn’t. it wasn’t working 10 minutes ago why would it now? amber’s at a dead end, opting to just hold my hand as i ride out the attack. i’ve never been more afraid in my entire life. the attack lasts for 23 minutes in total from the time i stepped out of andi’s apartment to where i am now, cradled in amber’s arms on the sidewalk of center street. once my breathing evens out, amber helps me up and into her car.

“what the hell just happened?” she asks once we’ve both into the car.

i stare straight ahead, my hand tightening around the handle of the door. “i have no idea.” i reply honestly. i tell amber the whole story as she drives me back to my dads place, from talking to cyrus to andi telling me we’re going on a break. she just listens, one hand on the steering wheel and one resting on the side of her cheek. “jonah, i love you, and i’m saying this out of love...” she starts, glancing over at me.

“what?”

amber bites her lip, then lets out a frustrated sigh, slamming the hand that was holding her head of down on the car door. “look, if you’re not gunna tell your parents about this, then i will-“

“you wouldn’t.” i cut her off, gritting my teeth.

“jonah, we are in way over our heads with this,” she spits. “you just collapsed on the fucking SIDEWALK, like, you need help-“

“i don’t need help!” i yell, squeezing my eyes shut. there’s nothing wrong with me, i want to argue.

“you do though," she argues, her voice raising as well as mine. “you need help, and i’m enabling you in ignoring that. admit it jonah, because you have an anxiety problem, okay?! this is real, this is happening, you can’t keep-“

“i’ll do whatever i want! i’m not fucking crazy, alright?” i take in a staggered breath.

“i’m not saying you’re crazy, jonah.” she rolls her eyes. “i’m saying you have a serious mental health issue. you can’t keep treating me like i’m a goddamn licensed psychologist, alright? it’s time you grow the fuck up and realize that hiding this is just hurting you.”

i frown, looking down at my shoes. “i thought you understood.”

“jonah, this IS me understanding, understanding that this has been going on for way too long.” she glances at me, and i know exactly what that look says.

“i’ll tell my brother, okay?” i blurt. “will that shut you up?”

“for awhile, maybe. but my ultimatum still stands.” she says, roughly hitting the breaks in front of my apartment building. “get out of my car. and seriously jonah, fuck you.”

“ya, fuck you too.” i grumble, getting out and slamming the door for good measure. i watch as she drives off, and i can’t help but feel incredibly guilty for what just happened. she’s the person who’s kept me stable since everything went down, and i just punished her for it. i turn towards my apartment building and start walking in, hoping to give into the urge of curling up in a ball and not getting out of bed for a few days. i stick my key into the lock twisting it and shoving the door open. daniel’s on the couch, and i’m just praying to god that he ignores my existence. but of course, i’m not that lucky, and daniel turns around.

“hey, where’ve you been all day?”

“breaking up with my girlfriend.” i deadpan, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me be.

“what? oh my god, jo, i’m so sorry. do you wanna talk about-“

“what i want if for you to leave me alone.” i growl. daniel stiffens, obviously taken aback by my attitude.

“fine, be an asshole then.” he shrugs, resuming his position on the couch. i will be an asshole, thanks for that. i think, storming into the bedroom. this was gunna be a long night.

#jyrus #andi mack #ifd

[heiresstochaos]

*Tali had been focusing on anything and everything else, but her headaches for the past few days. She didn't want to think about what was going on. All she wanted was to numb it enough that the voices would fade into a garbled murmur. It hadn't been easy and had taken a lot Patron to get to the point she was at when her cell rang for the umpteenth time* I swear she knows when I am off work. *grumbling to herself when she see the caller id say "Mother". Her mother had been calling her seemingly non-stop for the past few days. That was a record that bordered on stalking if you could pin that on family, but today her mother was calling repeatedly like her hair was on fire or the world was ending. Finally Tali has enough and answers her cell* What is it, mother?

"Talise Alazne Demara! Why haven't you returned my calls?!" *her mother was furious and worried. Two things that could spell trouble if Tali didn't diffuse the situation tactfully* Mama, you know things have been chaotic since I moved and I've been working a lot. *Tali was inwardly cringing as she hoped and prayed that her explanation would be enough. She never wanted to have her mother angry at her. That, no matter what, was just something she never wanted to face. Sofia was a tough task master and even harder to please, but she wasn't a woman anyone wanted to have her anger pointed in their direction* "I know you have but mi hija I have been worried. Your father and brother have been worried as well. There is so much we need to discuss and not a lot of time for me to explain." *Sofia's voice went from being furious to worried in the blink of an eye. This fact had Tali growing concerned* What is wrong, mother? *Sofia sighed slowly like she was thinking through what she needed to say then she had started talking about things from the past. Things that Tali couldn't get her mind to wrap around and grasp. That was until she mentioned Jaguars and that she had hexed her children.. the two she loved more than herself.. for a very good reason. Tali wanted to curl up into the fetal position and go into the beyond then and there, but her mother continued to rattle off an explanation as to why Tali was having such severe headaches that led to vomiting and moments of blacking out after feeling like her skin was being stretched too tight and the bones inside her were being shifted in ways that weren't natural by any means. Sofia ended the call with "We are coming to you so we can talk in person. All of us. Remember te amamos nuestra hermosa hija." Then she had hung up. Tali could feel the love of her family in the words that were spoken as well as in her mind. it washed over her so that she felt embraced by it* What do I do? *Tali looked up at the clock and saw that it was time to head to work. She couldn't or rather wouldn't let Janessa or JJ down. They had put faith in her and she had responded in kind to that. The staying busy meant she could put the conversation with her mother into the back of her mind and figure it all out when her family arrives at week's end* Fuck me. Can my life get any crazier?

*Tali hurried to get ready for work and drove the short distance to @JJsCigars. She parked her Audi R8 in the employee section and entered through the back entrance after setting the alarm on her car. Things seemed to be going smoothly for everyone as she made her way passed the bar where she spoke to John and Scoti who were busy serving the guests then she waved at Trixie and Bex who were taking orders out to the various tables and booths around the massive building. Tali finally made her way by the DJ booth and winked at RaeRae who was dancing to the beat she was spinning. All in all it was a normal night at JJ's up until three men walked in. The way they moved had her insides cringing as they checked out the place. To describe it actually they cased the joint. Their eyes darting here and there like they were looking for someone. Just their beady eyes and expressions had an image coming into Tali's mind of blood and death. The men made their way past her and as they did the small hairs on the back of her neck raised like hackles of a great beast warning her of danger. That was when she saw Kye out of the corner of her eye. Kye had spotted the men and had made a beeline towards the back entrance. She had moved so fast it was like a blur. One second she was just outside her office and the next the back door was clicking shut* What the.. *Tali softly spoke inside her mind as one of the men slammed into her right shoulder* Excuse you! *Tali's head began to pound as she spun towards the man in question and all three were glaring directly at her. It was like an old west standoff. The three of them on one side and Tali on the other. "Why does my head hurt?"

{Let the memory flow. Like water in a stream.}

There was that voice. This time it was her mother. There were more words but Tali didn't understand them as they were spoken in a language she had never heard before. Her chest felt like an elephant was sitting on it and her head... Hell she thought it might explode from the way it was pounding. Then flashes of images come into her field of vision.                 A man..                         A gun..                                Shots being fired...                                                     And screams...

"What the fuck?", Tali asked in her mind to get no answer as the images finally cease and she's left looking through her hazy vision. This had become the norm from the headaches, but the feeling of impending dread weighed on her. It only grew when the men headed out of the bar as a name finally came to her. {Lazaro Milian. He's trouble} Her father's voice firm but calm like that of a man who knows and has done far more than anyone knew. "That's what I sensed?", Tali was asking mentally seeking some kind of answer. {No you remembered his scent. That one was a member of his crew.} His crew?! Just what the hell was happening? Tali didn't know. The one thing she did know was that @JanessaKye was in trouble and she had to help. "Papa I have to help her." His answering warmth told her that he knew what Tali was going to try to do even if she wasn't sure of it herself. She glances around to see if anyone else noticed anything off before making her way to the back door. She grabs her head in agony once more as a feline predator stalks her way up the metaphysical path sharing her strength with Tali even if she wasn't ready. Tali knew this beast was her protector and she needed it's help to ensure @JanessaKye comes back in one piece*

[rotten-games]

(CW: NSFW-ISH)

I always seen it requested the other way around, so I was wondering what would the ROs do/how would they react if the MC, during crushing stage, accidentally walked on them doing the 💫solo tango💫?

Fear I imagine, for the most part.

Ardwen: Ardwen's expression is the epitome of ambivalence as he stares you down from across the room, legs curled up to his chest like you haven't just seen everything. "Well?" He asks, all frost and little of the sugar that usually coats his words by the spoonful. "Are you going to march right out that door or are you going to continue lingering?"

Arke: "Fuck," Arke shouts, golden eyes wide as he covers himself up. You feel utterly frozen in place, mortified as the two of you stare each other down with verying degrees of fear. It's not as if you've ever seen Arke with less than the appropriate amount of clothes but... not like this. And your relationahip isn't exactly close enough to be seen as comfortable. Not anymore. With a hiss Arke grabs a pillow and hurls it at you, "What are you—just get out!" It hits the door with a heavy thud as you make your escape.

Bex: "Sorry."

Bex is silent as he looks away, unable to say a word as you stand there in his doorway most likely looking like an idiot. You feel like an idiot, too, now that you think about it. Yet he gathers himself with a heavy sigh and grimaces, "Don't worry about it." You want to run.

"I'll, um. I'll leave you alone." You stammer, step out of the room and slamming the door shut not-so-subtly. Neither of you can look at each other for the rest of the week.

Calyssa: “Get the fuck out.” Calyssa hisses, throwing on some slacks as she jumps to her feet. Sweat runs down the side of her red face, teeth grinding together in her anger. Stomping towards you, she picks her axe up on the way, presses the handle into your chest, and pushes. You stumble backwards, right out the door, and before you can get a word in edgewise the heavy slam of Cal’s door interrupts.

Druvel: Druvel covers up like you’ve done nothing more than intrude upon him getting ready for the day, one brow rising in a silent question you’ve no idea how to answer. If he’s embarrassed or angry you’ve no proof to go by, and instead he simply looks at you with something akin to interest. “Well, as much as I’m sure you’d love to stay right where you are,” He starts, brushing back some sweaty hair from his face, “I’m afraid this is a private show, if you know what I mean.”

Emil: "What are you doing here, get out!" Emil shrieks, bundling himself up in blankets before you can so much as get a word in. His cheeks puff up like a squirrel, his ginger hair an absolute mess as he does his utmost to avoid matching your gaze. Grumbling something like a curse as you turn in a flustered stupour to leave, you think you hear him shout out a very colourful string of expletives as the door closes.

Ettia: "Queenslayer, that is honestly very rude, are are aware of that, right?" Ettia sighs, not angry, disappointed, as she stares at you with the closest expression to apathy you think she can muster. "Next time, I suggest knocking or else finding me at a... erm.... better time." Ettia whispers out a small incantation and in the next moment you're nudged out of her room, the door closing with a click. You leave her alone after that.

Gwyn: He'd jokingly ask if you'd like to join him but in the next breath basically tell you to leave in very flowery language.

Herron: Cover up and pretend you aren't there as he stares, mortified, at anywhere but you.

Korrin: "As happy as I am to hear from you, do you mind terribly coming back later?"

Lokeira: Lokeira is silent, body frozen in shock as you stare at one another with varying degrees of fear. His ears twitch first, then his pink eyes, then his body just shivers. “Yes?” He squeaks, curling up as if to hide himself from you, his tail slapping over his eyes. You, however, find the words impossible to articulate, and you can’t move to look away. It’s like there’s a stone in your throat, stopping you from speaking or even breathing as you stare at the man fidgeting nervously before you. You manage to gather yourself enough when he peeks out from behind his tail and mutters, “Can you come back later please? And knock?” You slowly nod, still unable to find the words, yet manage to shuffle out all the same.

Necrolym: Necrolym greets you with a wry smile, eyes momentarily flashing with fear as he sits there with his back rigid and his skin going pale. “So...” he says conversationally, as if you haven’t just walked in on him in the throes of passion, if you could describe anything at all about Necrolym as ‘passionate.’ “What did you need, Boss? Just come in--without knocking--For a chat?” Necrolym licks his lips nervously, looking directly at you as if afraid of facing his very prominent problem. It could be funny if you weren’t so petrified, but somehow you manage a stiff nod. The man tries to grin but ends up with a grimace. “Give me about five minutes while you wait outside and I’ll be with you shortly. Okay?”

Nox: The blade of her axe will go straight into your face.

Qora: You will get something thrown at you, assuming you get past Zora who is always left OUTSIDE of the room whenever something intimate is going in.

Severa: There's something dangerous in Severa's dark eyes as she stares at you from across the room, fingers twitching as if yearning to reach for her blade. But she doesn't. Instead she pats the wayward curls of her hair down and graces you with something akin to a glower. "Get out." She says, frosty as a Xacthan winter. And you obey.

Spotter: They immediately hide. If you can't see them they're obviously not there in the first place.

#sin bin #scenario ask #ROs #rott #regrets of the traitor game #Anonymous #this. took too long. much longer than im willing to admit

[rotten-games]

So what are the ROs reactions to the MC coming up and leaning veeerrrryy close to their face (near kiss), but then grabbing something (like a book) from behind the RO and leaving?

This took way too long because I wanted to ~try something new~ and I’ll regret this for the rest of eternity. ANYWAY.

Ardwen gives the Queenslayer a look, cocking his head to the side with interest as he twirls a curl of hair around his finger. “Oh, and whatever do you want?” He asks, voice singsong and sweet in that way he knows makes others absolutely melt. With half-lidded eyes, he grins, hoping his message is clear, ‘bedroom, now.’ Or that the Queenslayer reels back. When all they do is hesitate, frowning as if trying to decipher Ardwen’s signals, he pouts. Wrapping slender fingers around the back of their neck, he leans in close, close enough for lips to brush. “Oh, come on, aren’t you tired of flirting like a child?”

--

Arke steps back out of the Queenslayer’s space, feeling his cheeks go red with a confused sort of flush. Oh, how he wants to step forward again, how he wants to bask in such attention like he may once have done so unquestioningly, but he can’t. Shifting in discomfort, he doesn’t notice when his old friend draws near once more until he has to look up—and their noses bump. He swallows nothing as his mouth goes bone dry, scrunching his eyes tight instead of retreating once more—Arke knows there’s nowhere else to go, knows the beating of his heart isn’t from fear but excitement, and unfortunately that does certain kinds of things to him all at once.

Arke hears a snort from just in front of him, hot breath brushing against his lips like a promise, and fingers just briefly pressing into his hip before leaving him abandoned, alone. He cracks one eye open after a long moment only to see a book being waved in his face, an old friend cracking an all-too familiar smile like they’re kids again. Arke finds his saliva and swallows, looking away with some kind of inaudible grumble. Gods, when did he become such a swooning teenager? As the Queenslayer lets out a wonderful kind of laugh that does all kinds of things to Arke, he can’t help but slump against the wall with a sigh, watching the man leave with a longing he pretends is something else entirely.

--

Really, Bex should have seen it coming. The person in question has always been known for their charm, has always been well-versed in the art of seduction, but this is downright childish. Not to mention he is a good head taller than them and, really, how on the Gods’ earth did the Queenslayer think this was a good idea? Still… when was the last time anyone wanted to be close to him, even if it was through admittedly strange means? Nothing in recent years even comes close to want rather than need. Stifling a snort as clearly the plan isn’t going well, Bex simply watches from his position high above the Ruler of Hadaria, finding something bordering on glee at just watching them struggle with the situation. Maybe they should have brought a box. Quietly, however, almost shyly, he murmurs, “You know if you wanted to be close you really could just have asked.”

The Queenslayer huffs childishly in response.

--

Calyssa feels a brow raise in interest as she stares the Queenslayer down, fingers twitching around her blade as if it’s a battle to be won. As sweat creeps across her brow, she simply continues cleaning off her sword, paying them no mind for fear she might be accused of being too interested. She isn’t, she promptly decides, it’s just that the oh, so great ruler of Hadaria is acting strange and she wants to avoid getting dragged into it. Lying to herself isn’t the best of practices, not one she would do often if she can help it, but it’s easier whenever the Queenslayer is involved. If she ignores them, she doesn’t have to get angry, if she doesn’t have to get angry, she doesn’t have to pay attention to them, and if she doesn’t have to pay attention to them, well… there’s a reason she ignores them.

It’s… easier than acknowledging the way her heart betrays her.

And so, she ignores the ruler as they draw close; an act that becomes increasingly harder to do when they lean in so close, they almost touch. So instead Cal decides to frown, pushing them away with the flat of her blade and calling them some name she doesn’t quite process. They’re going to have to try harder than that.

--

Druvel surges forward as soon as the Queenslayer comes close enough to tease. Playing around never suited him unless he was the one playing, and in this instance, he believes himself skilled enough to turn it around. Taking a hold of the incoming face, their lips collide in a mess of teeth and tongues, earning him a surprised sort of sound quickly smothered by more kisses. Only when his willing victim seems to relax does Druvel reach around to grope for anything—anything at all—before shoving it and the Queenslayer away with a grin, the Ruler of Hadaria finding some kind of book in their hands. “Next time,” Druvel says with a rasp, slapping the back of the Queenslayer’s thigh with the end of his tail, “Don’t try to tease someone who’s the master at teasing? Okay, dearest?” And with that, he leaves them to their spluttering.

--

Emil burns bright red as soon as the Queenslayer draws near, but whether that’s from anger or being flustered is a mystery even to himself. Oh, he claims it’s anger—that’s what he’ll be saying to Necrolym when he inevitably vents to the poor man who’s always willing to listen to his troubles—but maybe a part of him knows it’s something else entirely when he looks at the person who killed his mothers. It’s a dangerous part that knows he should never say anything to the contrary. He hates the Queenslayer, that much he’s sure of. But as they lean in close just like they’re wont to do whenever they want to bother him, he feels his mind reel with feelings other than the thought of sliding his dagger between their ribs. Swallowing hard, he’s about to say something—probably curse, probably something ineloquent; something Aithne would have scolded him for and something Bereth would have sent him for another lap around the keep for—but he’s interrupted by a grin and it’s in that moment he knows he’s been played. Tearing away to twirl a dagger between skilled fingers, he Queenslayer gives him no time to respond before they’re off with a laugh.

And besides, Emil can hardly find the words at all between shortened breaths and the beating in his throat.

--

Ettia giggles and watches with interest, leaning back just out of reach with a playful little smile; goading the Queenslayer to lean even further forward. She knows what they’re doing, knows that she wants to play their game, but not quite having the patience to do so. She’s like her brother in that respect; she supposes they aren’t twins for nothing. Still, with a shake of her head she snatches up the Queenslayer’s fingers as they reach for something behind her, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “None of that, thank you very much. I think we both know what you’re doing.” And with a nervous grin the Queenslayer closes the distance between then and presses a peck to her lips.

--

Gwyn watches with barely-contained impatience as the Queenslayer draws near. He doesn’t understand why they just don’t kiss him, why they just don’t give him what they both clearly want. He pouts and cocks his head but otherwise tries not to let his confusion show; he doesn’t like letting it show, it’s like being truly known and he isn’t quite ready for that. Not like his sister is, not when that’s exactly what they were told not to be. So instead he just watches the Queenslayer’s lips and pretends he’s kissing them, feeling his frown deepen and deepen further still as they pull away with what he thinks must be triumph. Maybe they got the response they wanted or maybe they’re just being childish, either way Gwyn feels frustrated. When the Queenslayer is gone he turns away with a huff and goes to look for something to distract himself with.

--

Herron is just tired. He hasn’t been young in some time—at least not mentally so—and even despite his years he doesn’t quite process the actions before him. He’s slow on the uptake, or maybe he just doesn’t want to think about what closeness really means to him or how little he’s gotten in the past few years. No, instead he makes some kind of sound that doesn’t feel right in his throat and his body moves of its own accord, bumping heads hard with the Queenslayer as he stands. Herron groans and clutches his head, feeling petrification starting to set in as he scrunches his eyes shut and pretends that’s from pain and not from being utterly mortified. He isn’t sure what to say about the way his skin feels as if it’s on fire, isn’t sure how to really consolidate his feelings for what should be the case. Instead he simply grimaces and apologises, not knowing what his boss was going to do as he flees and, frankly, not wanting to know for fear his heart may just about haemorrhage.

--

Korrin doesn’t notice anything until they feel breath against their face. Oh, they heard the movement when the Queenslayer drew near but they weren’t particularly bothered by it. “Hm? You want something?” They ask, not quite sure whether it’s appropriate to flirt or crack jokes. Certainly, unable to hear it, they can’t quite discern the intention of the Hadarian Ruler, beginning to frown before they retreat.

“Right,” Queenslayer mumbles, “Forgot that wouldn’t really work on you.”

“Now don’t get me wrong, Queenslayer, I would have been perfectly willing to work with whatever you were planning if you’d simply told me.” Korrin feels a grin pulling at their lips, fangs digging into their bottom lip to suppress that particular urge. They can hear the Queenslayer spluttering, a flustered curse spouting from their lips. Good. They know what the ruler was planning, but they weren’t particularly worried about turning the tables. This is just a happy accident. “Now, what was it you wanted? Speak up now.”

The Queenslayer instead elects to flee.

--

Lokeira leans back almost precariously, bright pink eyes narrowed suspiciously as he peers at the Queenslayer as if they’ve gone mad. If he were human or elf or anything but Infernal he might be feeling his cheeks prickling with heat, but as it is that is something, at least, for him to be grateful for. Looking away he tries simply to ignore the Ruler, not wanting his beating heart to betray him so for fear of the playfulness turning into something serious. He doesn’t want serious; serious is scary and… final. Final means committing, it means staying. And that scares him. Lokeira slips his tail between them and pushes the Queenslayer back, minutely shaking his head with what could be a pleading look in his eye.

--

Necrolym lets out a snort as he feels hot breath beat against his face, leaning back to get a look at the Queenslayer in all their splendour. He knows this trick all too well—might have played it on a few too many women way back when he was in the guard—and really, he should dissuade the sorry sod from such a tactic in the first place, but instead he gets himself settled comfortably and gives them a humorous sort of grin. Despite himself, he gets sucked into those determined eyes of theirs, finding his own dragging down their form appreciatively. They’re so close, Necrolym notes distantly, eyeing their lips, their cheekbones, their eyes, before feeling his heart clench. Swallowing hard he has to look away as the Queenslayer reaches for something behind him and steps back out of his space. They give him a self-satisfied sort of grin that renders his heart inoperable. As Necrolym tries to speak, he finds no voice and by the time it returns the Queenslayer is already gone.

Nox raises an unimpressed brow at the Queenslayer, craning her neck to look at them with a sigh. “You want something?” She asks after a pause, foot tapping at the tiled flooring. Impatient. Uninspired. Yet they draw closer and it’s then she loses her patience. Ducking underneath the Queenslayer’s arm she simply shakes her head, “Nice try but instead of trying subtlety maybe just shoot your shot next time, aye?”

Qora pushes the woman from her space with a hiss, Zora bounding to her side within the very next moment. She can only glare as she kneads into the soft pelt of her companion, teeth bared in a snarl towards the intruder. Glancing towards her crossbow laid discarded on the table—terrible decision, really—she ignores the probing urge to ram an arrow right into the Queenslayer’s eyesocket. Instead she bites her lips raw, forcing her breaths to calm until she can no longer feel the heat of tears threatening her eye. Eventually, as she stares the woman down with that suddenly sorry expression, “You know not to do that.” She says breathlessly, betrayed, before storming from the room before she does make a lunge for the arrow. She finds a quiet corner in the keep to bury herself into, smothering herself in Zora’s soft fur until it feels a little easier to breathe.

Severa leers at her boss with a bored sort of disdain in her eyes, scarred lips pulling up into a half-sneer. “Outta my space,” She mutters, yet doesn’t move to push the idiot away when they don’t obey. Instead she simply continues to glower, a low growling sound rumbling in her chest as a warning. She doesn’t want this, she tells herself, this is so, endlessly, stupid. Then they look at her in a certain kind of way and she suddenly can’t think of anything but their lips. She wants to lean forward—but is that really what they’re asking? Is a kiss what they want? Whatever, fuck it—Pushing off the wall to surge forward she’s interrupted when the boss pulls away, a smirk pulling at their lips. And she swears they know as they hold up a dagger left abandoned on the rack beside her.

“I need a weapon for training, now don’t I?”

Instead of pulling them in for a mauling or—Gods, why can’t she stop thinking about their lips? Idiot! She huffs and folds her arms, “Maybe if you’re a coward.”

Spotter feels their heart beat up into their throat as Master leans forward, brows creased in what could be concentration but what they personally can’t decipher because—Gods, why are their cheeks so hot? Wide green eyes honing in on lips that appear to be forming words, the beating in their ears deafens them to any sound they might hear. Taking a step back they feel the small of their back bump fruitlessly into a table of some kind—when did that get there, surely it wasn’t there before—and a shiver races up their spine only for sweat to break out on their brow. Master is so close, they grimace, so close, and they can feel the heat bubbling and boiling under their skin and it hurts and—Master reaches behind them and picks something up.

“Be careful,” Master says with a sigh, pushing some kind of glass bowl into Spotter’s trembling fingers. “Don’t want to break anything.” When Master pulls away, they can suddenly breathe again, their heart returning to their chest where it belongs. Their ribs protest their rapid breathing underneath the binding and as they clutch the bowl to their chest like a lifeline their fingers catch fire.

#ROs #Scenario Ask #Technically Necrolym would have a different response depending on player gender but we dont talk about that #Anonymous