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shroudcore · 3 years

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Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers.

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now.

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar.

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course.

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well.

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level.

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it.

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to:

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer.

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours.

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes.

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged.

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again.

They loved you. And Idia was no different.

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten.

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved.

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…”

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No…”

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you.

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words?

He looked away.

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe.

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?”

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway.

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that.

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him.

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?”

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble?

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case).

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him?

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride.

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors.

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood.

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head.

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there.

Help… oh no…

2m…

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho…

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left.

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace.

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit.

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back.

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck.

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory.

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground.

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-”

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself.

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand.

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!”

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again.

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!”

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter.

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside.

“You left me there!” Idia huffed.

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!”

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it. I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise.

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care.

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway.

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did.

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day.

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point. But if you have time, I could go on forever.

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that.

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend.

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself.

Oh, and enjoy your new manga.

Your best raid teammate,

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was.

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same.

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again.

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning.

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!”

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all.

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!”

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!”

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved.

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit.

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little.

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together.

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios.

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light.

THE END.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback!��

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.”

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

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isolaradiale · 3 years

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The small 'ahem' and the dimming lights brought the attention of the closing party back on the podium. On it was Janus, looking a great deal better than he was a few minutes ago (when he was practicing his closing speech on a statue when he thought nobody was looking.) On the stage, he took a deep breath and brightened as everyone turned in their formal evening attire.

"Thank you all for coming to the Closing Party. It's been a pretty busy week, and all of you have made such beautiful and wonderous pieces of art. I'm overjoyed that they're on display tonight, and I thought there wasn't any way to view all of them in the span of a couple hours. So this last night of the museum will be going on until the sun rises again. You don't have to stay the entire time, but--"

"Well, sure they do!"

The interjection startled the AI at the podium, and he jumped a few feet from his spot. The chipper voice started again as one of the other statues on the stage moved, revealing the form of a marble-sculpted woman covered in holographic stickers.

"After all, each and every one of you put in so much effort into bringing your imaginations and inspirations to life, haven't you? So we thought we might return the favor, that's all. And you're all invited!"

Punctuating her statement was the sound of the large wooden doors, now slamming shut inward with a reverberating BOOM that bounced off all the halls of the lobby, even from the auditorium.

"I hope you all put everything into your masterpieces! Because your masterpieces will put everything into annihilating all of you~"

With another delighted laugh, the lights in the auditorium shut off, leaving everyone with only the light of their phones and watches. And as the murmurs began and hands reached for other hands in the dark, there was another THUNK near the wall as a framed portrait fell off its anchor. From its canvas, it began to look at the crowd, eyes now glowing in the light of everyone's flashlights. One hand crawled out of the frame, then another. Nails sank into the floor with terrifying ease as the subject of the portrait pulled themselves from its frame, marble cracking at its fingertips.

The next sound was a scream, and the sound of a woman falling onto the floor as the portrait pulled at her ankles. And then another. And another still as the frames began to move off the walls en masse, attacking anyone unlucky enough to be in their sights. There was a panic in the auditorium as people tried to flee and fight, falling over each other to escape the room

But it seemed that no matter where anyone chose to run to, or where they thought to hide, there was always something in the shadows.

Waiting.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Welcome to Part Two of the event!

As stated, the artwork in the Tempus Museum has come to life--literally, in this case. You've been challenged to survive until the next sunrise. To do so, you must evade, capture or destroy the horrific objects that have come to life.

Most of the artwork in the museum is hostile, and will attempt to un-alive your characters as best they can.

These generic museum monsters can be found everywhere wandering around, but are more common in areas they originated from:

Subjects and people in paintings will crawl out of their canvases to chase and eliminate anything they see moving. Their sharp nails can pierce through marble, so flesh and bone is probably nothing to them. Humanoids are not exclusive to this class of monster--painted animals, creatures and other things will also hop out of paintings to come after your muse. You can capture a painting monster by smacking it with a canvas, or destroy it with paint thinner (or water, if it's a watercolor)

Framed sketches will behave similarly to the painting monsters, and will leave lots of thin scratches as opposed to big ones. Capture them with paper, or destroy them by rubbing them with an eraser.

Statues of any material will chase your characters and attempt to injure them with their fists (or if they were holding a weapon, they'll use that weapon). Catch them by making them run back to their plaques, stands and pedestals, or destroy using a hammer and chisel.

The Parlor Dolls have now, unfortunately, all grown sharp teeth. They've all taken on ghastly appearances, and if they swarm around you, it might as well be the end of you. You can capture a doll by chasing it back into a display case, or destroy it by carefully ripping their seams.

Dancing Dresses in the painted ballroom will beckon people to dance with them, and will attempt to catch people in the folds of their fabric to immobilize them. They're not lethal on their own, but they'll hold your muse in place for something more dangerous to come along. Capture them by hitting them with a dress form, or destroy them by ripping their seams OR cutting them with scissors. - NOTE: Characters who bowed and danced with any of the ghostly gowns at the Gala XY will not harm the people who danced with them, and will instead, keep dancing.

Decorated Weapons made in the forge will take a life of their own and will seemingly float around, looking for battle. Sometimes they'll team up with Statues, making them especially deadly companions. Capture them by hitting them with a weapon rack, or destroy them with a hammer or any significant heat source.

Baked Goods and Pastries made in the culinary courtyard will not get up on their own, but a good many of them have become poisoned. The severity and potency of the poisons varies, with side effects ranging from an upset stomach to a sudden case of death. They don't move, so you don't have to capture them, but... maybe don't eat them, no matter how good they may smell and look.

Paintings on the street have come to life, making hazards of their own outside of the museum. Street-painted landscapes have become very tangibly real, as well as anything sprayed on the walls. If there was ever a time to regret the giant mural you painted on the side of a building as it crawls from its spot to squash you like a bug, now's the time. You can destroy these with water.

Landscapes will attempt to draw your muse into their world, sealing them in their frames. Your muse will be helpless to do much other than look through the painting like a window. The only means of escape is to have someone else drag you out of the landscape!

In addition to these generic museum hazards, there are a few specific hazards depending on how your muse behaved in Part 1 of the event:

If your muse created something with love, adoration, feelings of happiness, or any other intensely positive emotions, it may help them instead of hinder them. This can be anything from alerting them of danger to protecting them.

Your muse's own creations may attack them, too, aside from the generic monsters in the museum.

If your muse stole any artwork from the museum, it will hunt them down with special vitriol and hostility, and will stop at nothing to destroy your muse.

Similarly, if your muse attempted to destroy any of the artwork in the museum, it's going to target them specifically and attempt to return the favor.

Any art your muse made as a gift to others will either hurt OR help them, depending on individual mun preference.

Have fun! :)

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Frequently Asked Questions

"How long will Part 2 of the event last?"

The event will run until 00:00, June 18th

"Are the optimized tools still here?"

Shockingly, yes! And so are the regular tools, too. How you use them to survive is up to you, but building a door might be the fastest way. However, be warned that drawing a door on a wall has just as big of a chance of sending your muse to a different random room than it does outside the museum.

"Can we still do Part 1 threads?"

Yes! If you would like to keep your Canvas experience monster-free, you can continue making Part 1 starters until the end of the event.

"What about the art my muse took home?"

It has also come to life! So while the museum is certainly dangerous, there are random statues, paintings, dolls and other monsters roaming around OUTSIDE the museum, too.

"Can we destroy the paintings NOW?"

Unfortunately, they're just as invulnerable as they were before. Bummer, huh? Unless they're hit with their specific weakness, the monsters are invulnerable to attacks that damage them. (However, they can still be hindered by traps, and while strong attacks won't destroy them, they'll knock them out of the way!)

"Can we interact with Capella or Janus?"

Poor Janus is trying to put all the artwork back where it belongs by capturing them. He's in no danger for this, as the art in the museum will not attack their curator. Interacting with Capella the Statue might bring the wrath of her giant cat out to you, so. You've been warned!

"What if my muse saw something from their own world in a painting or a statue?"

That's incredibly unfortunate--those might be hostile too, and are subject to the rules that follow the other genuine painting monsters (meaning that the portrait of that character will not have any of their original powers or abilities.)

Whether the subject of the art your muse is familiar with will help or hinder them is up to mun discretion.

"Can't we just bust down the museum and escape?"

And destroy the biggest piece of art in the area?! (No, they won't budge. You'll have to draw your way out if you want to escape, either through a door or some kind of tunnel or something.)

"When will the sun rise?"

Not for 24 hours in-character (though the event will last until Jun 11th). Extended night time, woo!

"What happens if our muses get got by the museum?"

Muses that were defeated and failed to survive the challenge will have their portrait put up on the Wall of Shame, reflecting how they lost the challenge. They won't respawn until the sun rises, either!

"What if I have a question that's not listed here?"

Feel free to direct any questions you may have to the Masterlist!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"I thought you said everything would be fine!" Came the panicked footsteps of Janus, running to grab the frame the portrait monster crawled out of, picking it up with surprising ease.

"In my defense, I assumed everything would be." The statue of Caelum replied, furrowing his eyebrows and scrolling through a wall of code. Other statues of a Goddess-like Pleiades and an Antiquated Attired Alathfar, joining as guests, seemed to realize the issue before their older companion did.

"...Yes, nothing in here changed. But I don't see anything about..."

From the other side of the stage, Capella's statue pranced forth, stickers still glittering in the dark, somehow.

"That's just the first page." "The first page?" Caelum and Janus echoed back in confusion. "First page!~"

The grin still stayed on her cheeks from sticker to sticker, while Janus' increasingly scrunched in accusation.

"...I'll be damned. There were two pages after all." "DAD!" "I didn't see it, honest!" "I can't BELIEVE you!" "Now now, it was an honest mistake, really--!"

And as the old man's statue got quite the scolding from his son, Pleides and Alathfar stepped aside, meeting with Capella.

"Was there really a page two?" Pleiades asked, adjusting her comically large, rounded glasses. To that, Capella merely rocked on her heels, smile never fading.

"It's entirely possible Caelum got so wrapped up in helping Janus plan the museum that he overlooked it. Which is endearing, in a way. But..."

As Alathfar trailed off, the three of them looked back at the other statue trying to placate his agitated son, and grimaced in unison (except for Capella, who still seemed to be beaming with delight.)

None of them seemed keen on getting in the middle of the quarrel, and were only relieved when Janus stormed off with his empty frame.

#Isola Event: Canvas

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madaramee · 2 years

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— 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒

(𝐏𝐄𝐍)𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: red

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒: he

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂: scorpio

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 / 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍: single again :(

— 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒

1 . So I dance. A lot. I’m no professional but I’ve danced Bachata for like 3 years now and am staff in a local dance club. I also dance Zouk which I doubt anyone here knows of and it’s hella fun. It started out with my friend hooking me in and riling up two other friends of mine, though stuff happened and now I’m on my own lol. Apparently I was always good at it, just took the right thing to get myself invested in.

2 . Unlike mostly everyone else in this stupid country, I never had a minute to rest during quarantines. I have military training as a combat medic and, when the first outbreak hit, I was immediately enlisted as a medic to deal with corona panic. This repeated every quarantine period we had here. I was unemployed at the time so that was a nice source of income tbh ~

3 . I’m vegan. So I practically live off eating grass and committing photosynthesis. Mmmm, sunlight.

—𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

So I’ve been roleplaying on forum RPs for the longest time. Since I was 13-14, which makes it... 14 years now. I’ve roleplayed almost exclusively on Animanga RPs since that’s my preference tbh. I’ve had experience with combat RP, romance, adventure and just general plot-driven stuff too. So Tumblr was new to me when it came around at 2014. My first blog was an Uryu Ishida in a closed Bleach RP group, and my first indie subsequently too. Though I switched names and some of you may know me as Cricket. Ultimately my longest-running blog was a Smoker RP blog from One Piece. And now here I am!

— 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

I almost exclusively play dudes. I’ve had female muses before but I’m mostly uncomfortable writing them. I also almost always played canon characters given the chance. Having no personality means I can easily insert myself in a canon’s mindset - and dare I say, I’m good at it. My preferences in characters however, seems to gravitate towards the kinds most don’t notice immediately. I usually don’t like fan-favorites and somehow end up taking... Well, idiots.

— 𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄𝐒

Humor. Oh my god, humor threads. Are so criminally underrated. I’m not talking crack or modern-day humor, I’m talking good-old Shinigami Illustration Book stupidity. Give me the opportunity to make you laugh with my muses’ actions and I will get so invested it’s not even funny (pun intended). Screw angsty emo kids, show me your emo kid annoyed at not being able to brood. I’ll take that any day!

Romance. Hello, I’m Red, and I’m a huge sucker for romance and shipping. I thrive off all the disgustingly cutesy stuff between two muses. From establishment to progress to encountering issues and solving them and the smallest things in like, 3 PM Saturday afternoon sitting together at the apartment listening to music on speaker. I mean of course it depends on the muse, but wow do I love my tackyness.

Fluff. I am a stern believer that angst needs a reason to happen. Fluff, or just idle day-to-day, being the norm. Reason is, most of the time I can have muses interact with other muses they never got the chance to (especially true if it’s canon muses). The best thing about it is that fluff can easily develop into angst, and depending on muse and verse, can evolve into fight threads, which I also very much miss. Speaking of which --

Combat. I’m not the best writer when it comes to combat, but I can’t help but appreciate a good fight. The tension of two muses that can actually square off, doing just that; for whatever reason. In popular fandoms, I’m honestly shocked that I barely see this kind of genre played out. We all have superpowered muses, but nobody cares to use it. So why not let loose?

— 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐯𝐬. 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒

I love both. Memes are awesome when you’re having brainfarts and can’t figure out proper muse at the time, but plotting can get you to so deep levels of muse exploration you just can’t pass it up. Memes are also inherently flawed in providing a mixed bag, which can be either underwhelming, satisfactory or fucking amazing in potential response. I think overall, I’d take plotting over memes.

— 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃: @softmortem

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @rangikuxmatsumoto, @pernicious-charm, @pimpinpantyshot, @divineslcyer, @korosakis, @ryusxnka, @kenpxchi, @hirako5hinji, @hisdaddy, @hisnephew, honestly anybody who wants to try it

#wwilll bbe ttagggeed wwheen I gget hhomme

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a-fanatic-fangirl-requests · 4 years

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omg i love your blog sm!! i was wondering if you could write an itachi x reader angst?? like it's set during the uchiha massacre and itachi has to yk,, kill his wife aka the reader?? it literally came up to me in a dream! thank you!!

Hi. You have no idea how happy I am I got this request. I’ve been wanting to write this FOREVER. Let me tell you why. So, in one of the Naruto Storm video games, Tobi/Madara is talking to Sasuke, explaining to him about who Itachi had killed and such. Eventually, he mentions he killed his lover and I made a noise between a gasp and a scream. So...I wholeheartedly believe that Itachi having a lover is canon based on the video games and I won’t let anyone take that away from me. That was many many years ago though. But that desire to put it into words has remained and I haven’t seen anything else like this out there, so I’m glad to give it to you!Also, Itachi is aged up to be at least 18. But let’s just say 20 to be safe~ I hope you enjoy the read!

It’s Ok. (Itachi x Fem!Reader)

Warning(s): angst, death, I cried writing this so you better cry reading this

Word Count: 2,531

“Oh my.” A yawn escaped your lips for the fourth time as you made your way back to the Uchiha compound. “I’m more tired than I thought.” You muttered into your hand as a means to conceal the yawn. A small bit of cold metal touched your lips, making you pull your hand away. The silver ring on your finger brought a smile to your face. “How did I get so lucky.” It was a statement, not a question as you would never question the reason why, just glad that it was.

Itachi had sent you on a spa getaway for a few days and nature seeing. The both of you were supposed to go, but of course, the Anbu came first. You weren’t upset by it, it was something that the both of you knew would happen and what was accepted going into the marriage: the village and its safety come first.

However, that did not mean your marriage was accepted by others.

The rest of the clan found it an ill match as Itachi was the pride and joy of the Uchiha clan, while you…you were some ‘nobody’ who barely made it to Chunin rank. It would be a lie to say if it did not bother you at the beginning of the relationship.

“Shh, (F/N), don’t let it bother you.” Itachi’s deep and soothing voice hummed in your ear, curled up in his arms on the couch in your small apartment.

“How can I not?” You sniffled back, nuzzling your way even closer to him only to have his arms tighten around you even more.

A small kiss was placed at your forehead. “Because, they don’t know you. And, unfortunately, they’re telling you all you need to know about them.” Itachi sighed sadly. “I’m sorry they cannot accept the beautiful soul of the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

That had put a smile to your lips. “Really?” You whispered, looking up at him for confirmation.

He returned that smile and nodded his head. “Really.” His lips met yours, sealing that statement forever in your heart.

Itachi supported you no matter what, regardless of what anyone may say or think of him as a cold-hearted ‘weapon’. Although, the mere thought of how he was treated always made your blood boil. Truly, the Uchiha clan had told you all you needed to know about their practices without being told directly. Whenever Itachi had brought you over to his parent’s home, Fugaku would always be sure to praise his son’s accomplishments a little too hard.

“It’s wonderful, isn’t it? That the next great shinobi of our generation is of the Uchiha clan.” Fugaku would boast, motioning to Itachi with a drink in his hand. “A genius. A perfect weapon.” He mused to which his wife, Mikoto nodded.

“It truly is. He makes the clan proud.” She would say in agreement, never seeming to make a statement of her own.

The pair would always make you tense, your hand balling into fists. But as soon as that would happen, a larger hand would lay over your own and put you at ease. Your hand relaxed and laced together with Itachi’s, allowing you to eat your dinner in peace while he fended off the attention to him as a ‘tool to be used’ into something more mundane.

And unfortunately, another dinner was planned. This one was by his parents inviting them over, not Itachi’s own goodwill to try and have a connection.

You had just lay Sasuke down for bed on the couch, the boy having fallen asleep while you read to him, when Itachi told you his parent’s wishes. “They what? You’re kidding.” You asked in disbelief, keeping your voice quiet as you lay a blanket over Sasuke’s small form. “What do they even want to talk about?”

“Something that is none of their business.” Came the short reply.

Confused, you made your way over to where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, a cup of tea in his hands with another beside it. Itachi handed you the other brewed cup to which you gave small sip before asking, “Which is…?” You pressed, wanting him to explain a bit further.

He ran his hand through his dark hair, the hair tie not in to hold it back. “When we are going to have a child.”

You stared at him blankly for a moment before clenching your jaw. “You’re right, that is none of their business.” You rolled your (E/C) eyes and leaned on the counter next to him. “And here I thought they may be coming around to me,” lifting the cup up to your lips, you added, “guess not,” and took a long sip.

Silence filled the air for a good while, the both of you sipping on your tea with the occasional snore from Sasuke being the only other sound. “Would you like a child?” Itachi asked, his hand reaching out to grasp your left one, gently rubbing the silver band on it with his thumb.

“I,” your eyes glanced down in the near empty cup of tea, “I don’t know. I like the idea of them. But…I’m not sure I would make a good mother.” A small snort came from Itachi and you looked at him with narrowed eyes, “What?” You asked in challenge, wondering exactly what he was going to say.

Setting his own cup down, he stepped in front of you and effortlessly lifted up your (B/T) form to sit on the counter and occupied the space between your legs. “I’m surprised is all.” He hummed, a hand reaching up to gently grasp your cheek, his pale thumb stroking your cheek bone. “I’m surprised you’re doubting the skills you clearly possess.”

Now it was your turn to snort, but a smile found its way to your face regardless—like it always seemed to when you’re with him. “I’m curious. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Well,” he glanced over his shoulder before motioning with his head at it, “the way you were interacting with Sasuke would be my best example.”

“That’s different, we are just watching him for the night.”

“It’s not different.” He immediately said, his hands now finding their way to your hips. “You’ve shown incredible patience. Allowing him to show you whatever he wanted to. An interesting stick he found? You marveled at it. The fireball he was able to summon? You cheered for him like no one else had.” He praised, his forehead now leaning forward to rest against your (S/C) one. “Reading to him and doing voices with it? You are a natural.” His lips came closer to yours. “Not to mention, how you treat the blonde boy. Whenever you see him, you speak with him, give him attention. You have a kind soul.”

By now, a dark flush was beginning to spread on your face. You would never not love the compliments he gave, but it always was embracing to have him say them so openly and as a matter of fact, not opinion. “You…you would make a great father.” You whispered back, now finding your lips just a breath apart; so close, that you could practically feel him smile.

“Thank you, (F/N). That means the world.” Your lips and bodies met that night, hoping that whatever the result would be, it would be a good one.

Playing with a lock of your (H/C) hair, you had been waiting patiently for the doors to the compound to open. But…they wouldn’t budge. Frowning, you glanced around and while it was night time, it was dead silent. “That’s odd.” You muttered, noting the air smelt weird too. Itachi had not been at the home you shared that was thankfully away from the compound, his mission supposed to have been over the day prior, and figured he might be at his family’s home to pick up Sasuke early as you were going to look after him again.

Ignoring the warning in your head to not pursue it and turn around, you leapt up to balance on the top of the gate only to nearly fall back in shock.

Bodies. Bloodied, fallen, bodies littering the ground. Given your relationship with the clan as a whole, the only thing you felt was shock and worry about the two Uchiha that mattered in your life: Itachi and Sasuke.

Quickly leaping down, you ran from door to door, body to body, quickly determining that none of them were Itachi nor Sasuke. And while you should have been relieved, you just weren’t.

Rounding another corner, you stopped midstep, finding the small figure you were hoping but dreading to see. “Sasuke!” You cried out, running and sliding down next to him, quickly checking over his body and determining the blood on him was not his own. He seemed to be merely passed out. Right as you were about to pick him up and take him to the hospital when a pained voice spoke behind you.

“Why are you here, (F/N)?” The voice, while so familiar, sounded to be deeply in pain.

Laying Sasuke’s upper body back down on the ground, you slowly stood up. “I got back early. I wanted to surprise you.” You whispered back, knowing full well who eliminated the Uchiha clan. “Surprise.”

“(F/N)….”

Taking a deep breath, you turned to find your blood-splattered husband with his Sharingan activated and tears flowing from his eyes. The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. “It’s ok.” You said after a moment, your hand reaching up to brush away some of his tears, effectively spreading the blood away as well. “It’s ok.” You whispered again.

“(F/N)…I…you can’t….” His voice was cracking as his body trembled, struggling to speak.

“I know.” A few tears began to fall from your face now. You had seen too much. You knew what had to happen. Tilting your head, you placed a soft kiss against Itachi’s lips which was quickly met with desperation, a need from him to never let it stop.

One of his hands found its way to your hair and holding it tightly, the other wrapped around your waist to pull you close to him, sword falling to the ground. “Take us back to our home?” You whispered against his lips before he gave a small nod, your body getting picked up and in what seemed like an instant, you were inside your bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, he loomed over you, hands grasping the bedsheets and his head leaning on your shoulder as it seemed even more tears were falling. “(F/N)….” He said again, this time seeming to choke out your name.

A sad smile graced your features, your head turning to place a kiss against his cheek while your left hand found a kunai in the pouch on his thigh. “It’s ok.” You said again, nudging it into his hand.

Itachi pulled back to look at you, his red eyes seeming to memorize every last inch of you, so he could always remember you—his beautiful wife.

“Oh.” You said suddenly, lifting your left hand up, smiling fondly at the silver ring there. With shaking fingers, you took it off and placed it on his pinky. Once it was securely on, you smiled back up at him. “There. See? I won’t be leaving you.”

Itachi gave a small laugh, “You always find a way, don’t you.” He whispered, letting you take his hand that held the kunai to raise it to your heart.

“Yes, I do.” You smiled back, your eyes staring up at him with nothing but love and acceptance.

His hand seemed to still a little with both of your hands wrapped around his on the kunai’s handle. “I love you, (F/N).” Itachi leaned in, his lips against yours.

Closing your eyes, you whispered against him, “I love you too, Itachi.” And with one last kiss and your hands jerking towards you, your world went entirely dark. All the while the body that sobbed above you mourned what could have been.

______________________________________________________

Having died for the second time was odd. But now, Itachi could eternally rest. He was able to see Sasuke accept the truth of that fateful night, knowing full well that he may never be forgiven. Or even son, get sent to the darkest parts of the afterlife. So, it was met with some confusion that all he saw was light.

“Itachi?”

The man’s body froze. A voice he hadn’t heard in person for years, and had only replayed conversations in his mind. Turning in disbelief, his breath got caught in his throat at seeing the most wonderful sight before him. “(F/N)?” The name came out barely audible, it was not a name he had said aloud in a long time.

You smiled brightly, walking over to him while making sure to keep the small bundle to your chest. “Hello, my love. I’m glad you’re finally with us.”

Itachi had been in awe of how serene you were in the white kimono that he had nearly missed the small object in your arms, but he did not miss the ‘us’ comment. “Us?” He whispered, a sense of guilt and dread beginning to fill his heart.

“Itachi Uchiha. I know what you’re thinking, and don’t you dare. I had no idea either.” Your hand opening the bundle a bit more, an infant with black hair and large dark eyes stared up at the man. “It’s ok.” You said again, letting the man embrace the two of you.

“Do…do they have a name?” He whispered into your hair, his heart trying to accept that he had unknowingly killed his own unborn child.

You shook your head, your free hand reaching out to adjust his arms. “No, not yet.” Placing the small bundle into his arms, you smiled up at him proudly. “I wanted to wait for his father.”

“A boy.” He smiled, unable to help the tears from falling in both joy and sorrow.

Nodding, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned against his shoulder, looking down at the life you had created and now meeting in the afterlife. “Yes. You’ve done so much, Itachi.” You hummed, laying your hand over his. “You’ve sacrificed so much. Now…it’s time for you.” Leaning up, you placed a kiss against his lips, a feeling he had missed so much. “It’s time for us.” A small sound of happiness came up from the baby in his arms. “He agrees. Now, what should we name him?”

Looking at you, then to his son, Itachi closed his eyes. “How about…(C/N)?”

Smiling, you nodded in agreement. “(C/N) it is.”

Swallowing hard, he raised (C/N) up and gave a light kiss to the boy’s forehead which earned a happy giggle from the boy before placing one on your own. “I love you, (F/N).”

Glad that you could finally be together forever, you beamed back up at him, “I love you too, Itachi. Now, come on. We have eternity together. We’re not going anywhere.” Taking his hand, the three of you walked off into that bright void, your souls at peace.

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ladyfawkes · 3 years

Text

FINALLY UPDATED after approximately 100000 years. xD

Tangled Just Before Ever After

Words: 4730

Chapters: 2/?

Overall Summary:

Have you ever wondered what happened to Rapunzel and Eugene immediately following their first kiss in the Tower?

How they explained to one another the ways they discovered the depth of Gothel's evilness and duplicity?

How they managed to convince the Captain of the Guard that Flynn Rider was suddenly no longer a threat?

“Look at this!” Rapunzel exclaimed, surprised, as she traced out an invisible line across his palm. “There’s some of those magicky healing sparks left on your hand.” The young woman pulled back her own hand so he could see and sure enough, Eugene spied some faint twinkling beneath the very top layer of his skin. “Whaddyaknow?” he shrugged. “Huh.” A thought occurred to him and Eugene wondered if the glittery effect was now permanent. He surmised that it shouldn’t be and that it’d wear off soon enough...hopefully.

Chapter Two: The Lock-Picking Frog

Eugene and Rapunzel sat down together on one of the lower steps of the Tower’s inner staircase. She took his left hand in her lap, turned it palm upwards, and said, “Wait a minute….” brought up the same hand closer to her face and peered at it quizzically.

“I wonder…..” Rapunzel quickly let go his hand and reached across Eugene’s waist, her own left hand now hovering over the rips in his doublet and shirt where Gothel’s dagger had pierced him. And although she blushed a very lovely shade of pink upon asking him, the princess asked, “May I?” while pointing to his right flank.

And Eugene couldn’t mask his curiosity; his eyebrows arose right along with his elbows as he gave Rapunzel better access to his midsection. Far be it from him to stop the beautifullest young woman of his dreams from unfastening his doublet untucking his shirt for him. And although Eugene politely looked elsewhere partly for her sake, and partly for fear he might lose his gallant resolve…. He still very much wanted to say something cheeky or pithy or romantic or --

“Looks like my theory is correct,” reported Rapunzel. “Hmm?” Eugene was bewildered and his brow furrowed. “Theory?” he echoed, not entirely able to hide his disappointment at the aloofness of her reply. This wasn’t what he’d expected from this interaction at all. Eugene supposed he should’ve known better.

“Uhmmm,” said Rapunzel, suddenly shy again, “Well, I had guessed that the places on your body where you’ve been wounded the worst and most recently would therefore most likely possess some residual magic.” She sat back up and pointed toward his torso, “Looks like I was correct.”

And Eugene raised his shirt to look down at the place where the mortal wound once was, glimpsing for himself the same shimmering phenom of which Rapunzel spoke. That particular sparkling penetrated far deeper into his flank than what appeared near the surface of his palm, however.

Rapunzel kissed the inside of her hand and gently caressed the healed area on Eugene's side with those same fingertips. It was a gesture so pure and tender that again he found his heart melting with just how gentle she was with him -- the hardened criminal. Because this particular sensation…..what he felt now, what he’d felt when Rapunzel was tracing and kissing every inch of his face, and especially when Rapunzel had initially and carefully healed the palm of his hand two days before….it was so fantastic and new. And what Eugene could not have known then is that he was positively starving for it. He soaked up every drop of her kindness as if she were the sole oasis in his desert of loneliness. It’s why the young man knew he couldn’t let her walk away from him even after their special night of lanterns had concluded.

For Rapunzel hadn’t merely healed his largest mortal wound with her tears or the slicing through his palm with her hair. Without disdain or mockery or any form of guile, this unassuming young woman was healing parts of Eugene that he hadn’t even realized were chronically aching and long ago flayed raw in the first place. He had become numb and oblivious to all of it. Yet this impossibly kind and loving young soul was offering unconditional acceptance to Flynn Rider, the misunderstood career criminal whom everyone in all the seven kingdoms (and beyond) had come to loathe. Since the moment he met her, Rapunzel’s mere presence had become like sweet salve for his bruised soul. Even if it took Eugene the rest of his life, he vowed to himself that he would strive to be worthy of his dearest Rapunzel.

Eugene carefully gathered up Rapunzel under his arm and she leaned into him as they embraced again. Rapunzel was….almost impossibly genuine. Is this what real love has always felt like??, he mused. There’d been times Eugene had experienced such deep sadness and devastation in his life that it felt like his heart would certainly break. In fact, he had experienced that exact emotion as recently as that very morning during his imprisonment….. And it wasn’t because he feared dying…..it’s because he was all but certain he’d never see Rapunzel again. Never get to rescue her from wherever the Stabbingtons had gone off with her.

Prior to meeting Rapunzel, Eugene hadn’t ever experienced so much love and peace and contentment, it seemed as if his heart might burst from inability to contain itself. Once again, he appeared to have dozed off with Rapunzel squished up against him. Eugene yawned tiredly, internally berating himself and wondering why on earth he was so exhausted…. Until realization finally dawned that it had been over 24 hours since either he or Rapunzel had been able to get any sleep or rest whatsoever. It appeared to have finally caught up to them now that the worst of the danger had passed.

“So...how did you figure it all out?” Rapunzel asked softly, still holding him close with her head nestled against his chest. “It had to be pretty early on. Especially considering our entire first discussion regarding ‘backstory’....” And Eugene chuckled.

“You’re right, you’re right,” he replied. “I had definitely begun to suspect something was up by the time we were running through that underground escape system. There were just too many coincidences. A few being that: a.) it was the 18th year of Corona’s lantern festival and you just happened to be turning 18; b.) magicalness notwithstanding nobody else in the whole world had hair like yours -- its length and tensile strength belied its beaming gossamer beauty; c.) I’ve seen children -- even young adults -- utterly terrified of their parents, and for good reason; while I originally thought it was just a figure of speech when you said you “never left the tower”, I came to know you were being quite literal...therefore d.) you had further cemented my belief that you are Corona’s princess when you shared with me the ways in which your magical hair worked.

Suddenly, some insistent squeaking noises in front of them on the floor broke into the conversation. Eugene’s head whipped toward his right and looked down.

“Well, hullo there, Li’l Froggy,” he greeted Pascal warmly. This caused Pascal to glance over at Rapunzel with a wry look as he sighed long-sufferingly. “Yup. I think you’re stuck with it now, Pascal,” Rapunzel agreed. Pascal held out his claws heavenward, shrugged, and then hopped up on Eugene’s free wrist and scaled up toward his left shoulder, around his neck, finally perching on Eugene’s right shoulder. He squeaked something lengthy to Eugene. And Eugene, who wasn’t yet fully versed in Pascallese, had to ask Rapunzel to interpret.

“First of all,” Rapunzel began, “he says that ‘Frog’ is a rather insulting nickname but he’ll cut you some slack, being that you died, came back, and fainted all in the past 30 minutes.”

“Whoa-ho! Well, thanks for that vote of confidence,” a smirking Eugene sarcastically replied to the cheeky lizard on his shoulder.

“Second of all, while you and I were...talking,” continued Rapunzel, “Pascal scared up that hairpin and sewing needle you’d mentioned needing for picking locks. He says if you hold up your wrist with the shackle and instruct him right now in real time, he’s willing to help pick that lock with you,” and Rapunzel grinned.

“A lock-picking frog, eh?” Eugene marvelled, in spite of himself. He couldn’t help it -- the still-too-loud-Flynn Rider half of his brain was going wild considering that potential. “That is definitely gonna come in handy someday, ” he said with a faint smile on his face.

Eugene grabbed in his left hand the hairpin that Pascal had brought. The young man made sure it was bent crookedly in a certain way at one end and handed it back to Pascal. Next Eugene held up his shackled wrist and proceeded to coach the little chameleon in how to use the tricks of a thief’s trade. Twice more, Eugene modified the end of the hairpin, always handing it back to Pascal. Within about 90 seconds, the rusted manacle had popped open and slid off Eugene’s wrist onto the floor…..where he couldn’t help but notice a blood stain on the nearby tile below.

To divert Rapunzel’s attention (and his own), Eugene hastily put his boot over the top of the stain and made a big show of finally being free of the manacle. “Ahhh!!” he massaged his right wrist, “that’s more like it! Tiny high-fives, Froggy!” Eugene reached out his index finger toward Pascal who was still perched upon his right shoulder. The chameleon then “fived” Eugene’s fingertip with his bitzy claw.

Rapunzel helped Eugene all the way to his feet and with great relief, he stretched his long legs and even longer back all the way up to his full considerable height. As he was stretching over backward, allowing his spine some satisfying cracks, Eugene surprisingly felt someone touching his bare skin and stole a downward glance at Rapunzel, who was once again examining the former wound in his side.

The young woman noticed a bit too late that she’d already been seen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Eugene had stopped stretching and was now peering down at her. Rapunzel instantly withdrew her hands as that now familiar delightful shade of pink blossomed under her freckles and she mumbled an apology. She instinctively backed away a step, looked up, and said, "You're even taller than I remembered."

#Tangled fanfiction #my fanfiction #Rapunzel + Eugene #TJBEA #rta #Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure #Pascal chameleon #Frog #Tangled the series #TTS #eugene fitzherbert #eugene

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ask-anti-cosmo · 3 years

Text

The Return of Anti-Cosmo part 3

Part 1 Part 2

You hung the girly costume in your closet, thinking you’d give it away or modify it for Halloween. Small arms wrapped around you, making you try to swat at the owner.

“Aw, you missed me!” Anti-Cosmo grinned. “I’ve repaid my debt and can now roam as I please!” he said, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

“Good for you. Now how does that ‘We’ll go our separate ways' thing sound?” you huffed.

“Aw, come now! Surely you've come to like me a little.” He poked at you with his wand.

“Knock it off! You’re more like an annoying little brother!” you said and walked from him.

“I can be big if I want to!” he said as his body morphed into the shape of an adult human male. You tried not to look impressed and went to the fridge for some blood. “See? More like a hot step-brother.” He said and winked.

You glanced back and sighed. “Fine, I’ll give you that.”

“So…you know what it’s like to have a brother I take it? Did you have one?” Anti-Cosmo asked.

You shot him a mild glare.

“Come now, I’ve been open with you, now it’s you’re turn!” he insisted.

“Fine, yes I had a brother. Lost him to Polio.” You huffed.

“Polio huh? Let’s see, the vaccine was made in 1954, so your brother passed away before then~?” he asked.

“What’s with that tone?” you glared.

“Just trying to figure out your age~ not simply ‘decades’ old are you?” he teased.

“Neither are you Mr. Centuries!” you huffed.

“Want to know a secret? I’m the youngest Anti-fairy in existence.” He stated proudly.

“What?? Are you serious?” you frowned.

“Indeed, an Anti-fairy can only be born when a fairy is born. Ever since my counterpart was born and destroyed countless cities and lives, the fairies ban themselves from having anymore children. We’re all immortal anyways so it’s not like having more offspring is too terribly important.”

“So you’ll never have kids?”

“Never.” He concluded firmly. “Even if I did want children, it’s not up to me. And my counterpart would be the last fairy alive they’d choose to have the first baby in centuries.”

“Huh…that’s sad.”

“If you knew him you’d know it’d be for the best.”

“I know you, and I can tell you certainly don’t deserve children.”

“Sticks and stones darling. Now then, it’s time to go find the one who put me in that safe.” Anti-Cosmo said and cracked his knuckles.

“You’re going to find her?” you asked eagerly.

“One turn deserves another “ he said and poofed up a spinning grindstone wheel and sharpened his wand against it for a minute.

“…I’m going with you.” You said.

He looked at you surprised. “I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“Well maybe I want to congratulate her.” You said sarcastically. “or learn her secrets.”

“Perfect, so do I. There is no way she could have known all of that information of my weaknesses just from what her grandmother knew. I never even told my doll about butterfly nets! Ooh, and maybe if she’s still alive, I’d see her too…” he grinned wickedly.

“She’d be an old lady.” You told him.

“No doubt, I’m used to that fact.” He shrugged. “I could easily make her much younger in an instant anyhow, so either way it doesn’t matter to me.” He said, swinging his wand slightly.

“That easy huh?” you asked in surprise.

“It would be easier to have an extra drink of blood.” He said, looking at you expectantly.

“No way bozo, you’re as dumb as your counterpart if you think I’d agree to that.” You folded his arms. His eye twitches at the insult.

“I need some kind of payment for you coming along to my revenge plan, it takes magic to teleport things to other places you know. Think of it as gas money.” He said and held his hand out to you.

You glared at his hand then at him again.

“Let me have some blood or you get to stay here while I go after the *beep* who locked me away.” He glared back, now looking impatient.

“Well look who got all entitled after I saved you from said safe.” You snarled. “for someone who preached about equal exchange, I haven’t received much thanks other than unwarranted touching and mocking.”

“Oh sweet summer child…” he said and your blood suddenly went cold. Not just a shivering feeling, your blood literally felt cold, as if it was freezing, slowing and hardening. Anti-Cosmo’s wand glowed with a vicious darkness. “What makes you think I owe you anything after you bit me?” he asked.

“I-if you hold you o-own b-blood in such high reg-gard…” you shivered before leaning forward and biting his arm, breaking the skin through his sleeve. The black shimmering blood escaped his flesh and tingled in your mouth, soaking his clothing.

He stared at you with amusement. “Well, you can’t deny now that we’re even. But if this is what it takes to avoid hurting your pride…” he shrugged and pulled his arm and your face closer before biting your shoulder. You grunted, unused to the sensation and started to feel light headed as your blood warmed and ran into his mouth. You started to struggle and bite harder, but he only laughed at you.

He took one last swallow before letting you go. “There now, I have my payment and you didn’t have to agree to it.” He smirked.

You let go of his arm. “That is not how deals work!!”

“You bit me, so I assumed it was fine to bite you back. What else was I supposed to assume?”

“Listen here you-“

“Magic for blood is my deal you asked for magic, so I took my payment.” He frowned and folded his arms. “You took my blood for releasing me. That made us even. Now that you’ve asked me to use my magic to help you come with me, it’s a deal.”

“Then hurry and finish up your end!” you growled, rubbing your bite mark.

“Nobody likes a whiner.” He huffed and waved his wand, making it glow darkly like it did before.

You felt your feet remove themselves from the ground and fell in a fancy old house. You stumbled from the strange Sensation of being picked up and set down magically. The house looked as though it was starting to be neglected, as if there was a single maid to do everything and wasn’t keeping up. The fact it was night didn’t help with how scary it was looking either.

“My my it has been quite some time~” Anti-Cosmo mused and began to walk around. “Looking a bit more haunted than I remember, but it no doubt belongs to my doll.”

“Does she still live here?” you frowned.

“Hmm…” Anti-Cosmo grinned and started to walk across the floor towards the stairs. He began to step upwards with a rhythmic sway and started to hum for a minute before beginning to sing.

“Places, places, get in your places~ throw on your dress and put on your doll faces…” he chimed, dancing up the stairs in a dancing manor. “Everyone, thinks that you’re perfect, please don’t let them look through the surface.”

He made it to the top of the stairs. He kept stepping to the beat of the song he sang so creepily, his voice echoing through the haunted halls. “Picture, picture, smile for the picture~ Pose with your brother, won’t you be a good SISTER?!” He yelled the last word and you heard a loud shriek echo through the house. You both could hear a set of footprint run from upstairs.

Anti-Cosmo giggled softly and motioned you to follow him. You swallowed and followed him up to a hallway with a room at the end. Inside the room, you could hear a woman crying and another comforting her. Anti-Cosmo grinned cruelly and became to sing again as he walked down the hall slowly.

“D-o-l-l h-o-u-s-e, I see things that nobody else sees. D-o-l-l h-o-u-s-e, I see things that nobody else sees.” He sang creepily before opening the door. Inside was a grown woman, comforting an old lady with hair curlers and lots of scars on her neck. They looked like bite marks, from a child sized mouth. “Hello again, my little doll.” Anti-Cosmo grinned wickedly.

The old lady whimpered at the sight of him, shrinking away and trying to hide behind the younger one.

“You…I buried you in the ocean, how are you here?!” the younger woman said.

“Ah yes, well this lovely dear freed me. We have a lot in common you see~” he said as he touched your face. You slapped his hand away.

“Knock it off you creep.” You huffed.

“I have never called you back…go away, I don’t want anything from you…” the old woman sobbed.

“Yet you send your lovely grand daughter to hunt me down and disengage my interaction with human lives?” he frowned.

“I did not send her…”

“I went on my own! Grandmother told the stories of everything awful you did! Creating worst problems than what she had before you came! You are an evil creature that doesn’t deserve life!” the younger woman yelled at him.

“She knew the price when making a deal with the devil.” Anti-Cosmo yawned. “What do you think, does granny deserves another life? I certainly think so, she used to have the most perfect porcelain face…” he said before waving his wand.

The grandma suddenly began to grow younger, but not just that, you noticed her skin began to shine and her eyes gloss over, looking more and more like a real ceramic doll.

“No! Leave her alone!! I’m the one you want!” the younger woman insisted. “I trapped you!”

“Indeed you did.” He glared and waved his wand at her. Her arms were suddenly chained down to the floor. Walls of a safe began to enclose around her, making her panic. They suddenly stopped.

Anti-Cosmo stepped closer to her. He waved away the safe wall that was in front of him so he could look her in the eye. “How did you know my weaknesses?” he glared. “You knew with too much exactness, and I never told your granny such things. Not even most fairies know as much as you did.” He glared and pointed his wand at her.

“I…I tried to Summon you.” She admitted. “Granny said you were everything opposite to Fairies, so I looked up ways to Summon fairies and…did the opposite of them. I even did it on a Friday the 13th…”

Anti-Cosmo narrowed his eyes. “Clever, but obviously you didn’t succeed.”

“Actually I did, just not in summoning you.” She said and hissed in pain as the chains around her arms tightened. You felt pity for these two women the Anti-fairy tormented and tried to think of a way to get AC off their backs.

“Who did you summon?” Anti-Cosmo hissed. “NAME THEM.”

“Ah…Anti-Binky…” she whimpered.

You almost laughed at the silly sounding name, but seeing the rage in Anti-Cosmo’s face got ride of that feeling. “He told you how to imprison me?!” he asked angrily.

“H-he said to pick a Sunday the 7th…that you’d be the most weak on that day, and to be sure I was your only target…to have the safe lined with butterfly netting and to keep your wand far from you…”

You started making mental notes of said weaknesses just in case. Especially with the plan you decided to put in place to save these two.

“I see…” Anti-Cosmo said before stepping back. “Well then, I know who to go for next. That little boil have been seeking my crown for centuries.” He huffed. The walls of the safe around the younger woman began to close in around her again.

You decided to start your plan.

#anti-cosmo #anti fairies #fairly odd parents #dollhouse #Melanie Martinez song

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t100ficrecsblog · 4 years

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an interview with @easilydistractedbyfanfic (she/they)

what are you working on right now? I don’t typically take prompts, but after finding out about the Bellarke Writers For BLM Initiative and how their goal is to raise money for BLM via various fandom prompts that are requested by readers and written & illustrated by various writers and artists, I wanted to get involved. I’ve finished two prompts and am working on my third, which is a Murphy/Raven smutfic set during their years on the Ring. It’s definitely an idea I can work with - it’s over 10k at this point with a lot more to say, so hopefully the anon who requested it will end up pleased! Go check out the tumblr page and the ao3 collection - there’s various t100 pairings/ratings and you can choose the cause if you want to request a fic!

what is the fanwork you’re most proud of? I struggled with this question! My stories are all like my kids, and even if some of them could use a bit of improvement with pacing or dialogue or whatever faults I see when they age, ultimately I do love them all and I’m glad I wrote them. I do sometimes play favorites but that often depends on what I’m in the mood to read myself. That said, I really do always feel proud of my story called What You Need. It’s a darker version of Raven & Murphy, but one that I don’t find unrealistic under the circumstances of the fic. I surprised myself with where my head went on this one. In a good way, because it was really fascinating to dive into the minds of who these particular versions of the characters were.

I’m also pleased that I have over 500k on ao3 at this point. I never expected anything like this when I started writing, and it kind of blows my mind that this is my hobby now. It’s so strange to me that there are stories in my head at any given moment now.

why did you first start writing fic? I started writing in June 2018. Never wrote any fanfic before that, ever - though I did read plenty! I wrote three stories super fast, posted them all on ao3 on the same day and haven’t looked back. I think I started writing out of a combination of just really needing more content for my faves, but also I wasn’t in fandom before s5 and was quite desperate after s4 to talk to other people about Raven & Murphy. So I needed to get the stories out but also I had this hope that it would invite conversation when I didn’t know anyone in fandom.

what frustrates you most about fic writing? Just because I want to write doesn’t mean I can. Having prompts on my plate right now, I feel a real responsibility to finish them, but even when I carve time out to write, sometimes the words just don’t feel right. The muse doesn’t always strike when I have the time available. Also, it’s super ridiculously important to me that scenes and dialogue FEEL right based on the characterization I have in my head in any particular story. I can look at a scene I’ve written, especially an emotional one, and sometimes it’s just not resonating with me the way I know it could or should. It’s tough not to just push through and post it as-is, but I know that would never satisfy me, even if it means a much longer turn-around time on a story or chapter update. Often I will find that I get an a-ha moment that cracks open a better understanding of why a scene isn’t working for me, but this can take time and I have to trust in this process.

Not to preach, but it’s also frustrating when something you spend a lot of time and effort on doesn’t get much in the way of comments. I see posting fic on ao3 as a sort of conversation, so when there’s mostly silence even as the hits (and hopefully kudos) tick upwards, it can feel really...disheartening to feel like you’re talking into a void. And I say this as someone who has been fortunate enough to have regular readers who DO give feedback! I think every writer understands that they need to write for themselves first and foremost, but I wish more readers understood that feedback and enthusiasm will absolutely result in MORE CONTENT! I try very hard to follow this guideline myself by supporting and commenting on everything I read as time permits.

what are your top five songs right now? I listen to a huge mix of songs & my childhood influenced me a lot.

Some floating in my head include -

Chris Cornell’s live cover of Nothing Compares 2U Indigo Girls - Romeo & Juliet The Decemberists - Once In My Life Tori Amos - Silent All These Years The Chicks - March March

what are your inspirations (books, songs, other fic)? I find inspiration in a lot of things, which I think is lucky. One of my biggest is the characters themselves. I love getting deep into understanding who I think they are, what their motivations are and why they’d make certain decisions, whether in canon or in an AU. What parts of their personalities do they keep when they aren’t tortured and under trauma on the regular? What would happen if I change this one scenario in their lives? I could probably go on forever just based on these sorts of thoughts, but I do also find inspiration in simple things like tropes, or song lyrics and the lore of the show itself. Quite a lot of my ideas in my inspiration notebook have sci-fi themes too. A few of my stories have already touched on sci-fi topics, and I absolutely plan more of them because I love how creative that can be. I also love the idea of suspended belief - can I have sentient plant life from an alien planet that can mindread & communicate by projecting thoughts into characters' heads? Yes, yes I can! (I wrote this story, fyi - Flora Incognita, part of a series)

what attracts you to Murven? what first attracted you? Hey, do you have all day? Ha! Seriously, I could talk about this until everyone wants to strangle me! I loved Raven immediately - not so much Murphy! But I really disliked Finn, so ep 1x10 when Raven finally broke up with him had me interested. In that ep, you can see that Murphy is present, awake & nearby in the Dropship and probably overhears everything Raven says. Then he gets up and looks at her to make sure she’s still sleeping before he carries out his revenge plans. I’m not kidding - that one look absolutely and completely hooked me! Murphy was still awful then but he was so much more interesting than Finn, and back then I remember thinking how I’d really like to see them interact as two stubborn, strong personalities, because no doubt sparks would fly. And then when they did interact more, their dynamic was exactly what I’d hoped for and then some!

I love that they’ve seen each other at their worst and at their weakest and most vulnerable, yet they’ve built a strong foundation of trust, faith and understanding. They have so much in common but they’re also different sides of the coin in some ways too. Fandom talks about Bellarke being the head & the heart, but to me Raven and Murphy are the intellect & the instinct - they complement each other, provide some of the qualities that the other needs, their differences improve each other. For me, nobody gets Raven like Murphy & nobody understands Murphy like Raven. Maybe not a lot of people notice, but Raven & Murphy check in with each other a lot - Raven tends to say “I got this” but Murphy is the only person who replies to her “Do you?”. And Raven listens to Murphy’s ideas and suggestions and plans even when she’s known as the genius because she knows that he has valuable things to say. They have fun together, make each other smile and enjoy each other’s company, which is in such short supply in this show!

I know there’s parts of fandom that don’t ship them because Murphy shot Raven in s1. I have a lot of thoughts on it and have had quite a few tumblr posts about it. This is a fictional show - it does not reflect reality. I’ve been on the fringes of fandom for a long time and I know shipping doesn’t always mean yes, I want to see this relationship in real life. For me, I think it’s absolutely fascinating that someone Raven should hate has become one of her closest and most trusted friends. That she forgave him, and we as the audience get to see this dynamic change and grow, and that Murphy has always felt guilty about it even though he was being presented as selfish and out for himself - it’s such a huge, huge part of each of their character’s journeys. This is getting rather meta, but I don’t think either of these characters would have survived this long or evolved to the extent that they each have without specifically being around each other.

And I absolutely can not discuss my love for Raven & Murphy without mentioning the whole way these two LOOK at each other! OMG have you SEEN it?!?? How could I not ship them when they look at each other like that! LOL! Also, I want to keep talking about this but I’ll stop now because I truly could go on forever and anyone who follows me already knows I’m wordy.

BESIDES Murven, what’s your favorite ship in t100? Honestly, nothing else comes close to Murven for me, but I did like Kabby before the show just eviscerated their characters. I like the possibilities of Niytavia still. I can see why people ship Murphamy in the earlier seasons. Definitely think Echo/Roan could’ve been something intriguing. And I’ve got this weird thing going right now where I wouldn��t hate Murphy/Russheda, but admittedly that’s mostly about the aesthetic! I tried really hard to like other partners for Raven & Murphy since they’ve always been my faves, but I’ve been meh about all the possibilities except Luna as a partner for Raven or as a Luna/Raven/Murphy threesome. At some point I might write that. Otherwise I’d say I tend to like the friendships more than the ships.

what are some things you’d like to recommend? I always hesitate to recommend other stories & authors because I can’t stand the idea of people feeling left out if I forget to mention them! But I would like to say that I really and truly love my fellow Murven shippers who read & support my stories and who create content like fic and art and gifs and fanvids. I find so much inspiration in them even though sometimes I can’t get through 30 seconds of a fanvid before I have to pause it because the angst is too much for me!

Since you’re kind enough to ask me this question and maybe a few people will read this answer, please - I recommend that everyone educate themselves on social justice and climate change and Black Lives Matter and capitalism and unions and what intersectionality & solidarity truly mean! Vote like your lives depend on it because THEY DO!

ed’s note: compiled a few resources -Rebel Well: A Starter Survival Guide to Trumped America -Jacob and Al’s Intergalactic Intersectionality Adventure -Get involved in your local chapter of DSA -Join Your Local Mutual Aid Group -Keeping Yourself Safe Online In This Capitalistic Hellscape -Angela Davis’ book Are Prisons Obsolete? -Resource about defunding the police

You can find @easilydistractedbyfanfic here on Tumblr, on Twitter, and on AO3. You can also a request a fic written by her via @bellarkefic-for-blm!

#bellarkefic4blm #raven reyes #john murphy #murven #murven fanfiction #bellarkefics for blm interview

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ask-a-cat-and-her-hedgehogs · 8 months

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(Not canon/Crack) Julie the Cat and Lord X get married

Julie was asleep, until a bright white flash... The setting has changed, a dark and rather creepy world, it being Lord X's. She was now dressed in a gorgeous, shiny and long white dress and wore long, shiny white gloves. She also had a white transparent headdress that went over her face, and a very light rosy pink flower crown. She looked beside her, and there it stood Lord X himself, dressed in a charming and devilish black/white suit. He also had a flower on his suit, but instead of it being something fancy like a rose, it was a very creepy flower with an eye. There in front of them stood a...rather small audience of six (6), but still counts. It was X's guardians (Yokubo, Kyofu, Zetsubo, Gekido, Kofuku, and Ken'o). X's seventh (7th) guardian, Kito, was up on the stand with them, officiating at the scene

"We're gathered here today to join our Lord, X, and Julie the Cat in holy matrimony."

"Wait... What's going on-"

"Lord X, do you take Julie's hand in marriage and devotion, till death do you part?"

"I do...~"

"Wha huh-"

"And Julie, do you take our Lord's hand in marriage and devotion, till death do you part?"

"I... U-Uhm-!! Y--"

Suddenly, somebody burst the doors open. It was Lincoln the Wolf, Julie's secret admirer, of course. Every guardian turned their head, looking somewhat pissed (Especially the more dangerous ones)

"HEY! THAT'S MY GIRL, SHE'S MINE! HANDS O--"

"FUCK OFF."

Yelled Gekido, the Guardian of Rage. Welp, Lincoln stormed off, shutting the doors behind him. Continuing...

"So...~ You were saying, my precious kitten?~"

"I... I-I do!"

"And you may, KISS THE BRIDE."

And then they kissed and lived h̶̢̢̨̛̖̻͕͙̙͋̉͌̌̀̔̓́̏͠á̸̧̡̧̡͍̳̤̰̝͈̱̝̗͔̤̦̳̟͔͎̩̱͈͉͍̱̥͚͖̟̖͌̏̈́͐̍͐̉̂͒̈́̃̑̿̇̀̀̋̌̆̽͋͐̒͜͝͝ͅp̸̨̻̪̼͖͇͍̬̫̤̦͔̩̫̓͊̒̔̏̎̎̈̾̾́̚͘p̸̢̡̢̢̡̢̢̨̛̲̣̤͉͈̬͇̦̼̯̤̥̯̞̞̖̫͕͛̔̓̃͂͐̋̒͗̉̾̓́̿̎̈́̈́̓̍̉͒͜͜͜͠͝͠ḭ̵̩̜̝̫̭͇̖̱̌̃̄̈́͑͐̇̍̒̉͒̔̄̋͊͂̆͗̿̾̕͘̚͠͝͝͝ḷ̵̨̨̞̜̞͚̬̦̮̻̱̞͎͓̤̯̜̗̥̭̭͚̠͈͈̾̀̈̇̃́͋́͛̇͘͜͜͠ͅͅy̷̨̗̩̠̳͎͚̠̼͕͖͍̥̠̣̠̱̝̖̩͍͔̹̗̰̫͓̯̙̹̬͈̪̤̓̒̈́͋̈́͂͋̉̇̿̅͆̔̆́̎̈́̈́̿͗̋̑̓͂̈́̎͘͝ͅ ̵̡̧̛͈̠̺͇̹̲̬̲͈̞͉̜̼͕͚̰͖̥̞͚̗̫̯̼̩͉̭̞̲̪͙̝̘̰́̅̎̍̓̑̌̅͆͒̋͒͛̈́̎̔͐̈́̈͆̐̒͆͌͆̏͋̑͗̍̓̈́̐̌̾͂͐̊͗̿͊̾̔͂͛̉̕Ȅ̵̲̼̯̮͉̟̳̙̋̓͒͆͒͒̋͒̇̍̿͂́̊̽͆̾̋̽͊̅̓͒̅̓̈́̏̾̑͋̽̄̿̓̾̀͠͠͠͠V̶̧̢͎̟̼̮̭͔̣͙̳̦̤̎̾̂͐̇̕ͅȨ̶̛̦̗̠͍͙̙̹̣̤̺̽͌̐́̿̂̾̎̈̓̎̽͒͗̍͗͆̒̆͆̌̈͛̇́̽͋͌̇͘̚̚͜R̸̛̬̩̮̃̈́̓̈́̍̏̈́͆̎͗͐̏̈́̌́̆̎̇̉̓̃̾̀̌̂̚̚͝͠͠ ̵̧̢̛̛̘͇͓͍͇̣̳̩̫͔̲͈͙͎̝͎͈͙̘̖̮̞͍̬̪̅́́͛̿̾̍̑̾̆̑͑͒̓̌́̄͗͘͜͠͝A̵̢̨͓̰̝̺̜̻̰̼̱̹̥̥̩͕̰͙̪̓͌̌̂̓͐͑̈́̒̒͒́̀̿̎̚̕̚͜͠͠ͅF̷̨̨͎͍̳̰̻͕͚̥̜̯̭̟̞̩̰̬̙̖̯͚͇͚̰̘͊͗́͊̈̀͊̔̀̐̒͋̋́̌͐̍̈́͗̽̑͂̾̈͌̽̾̑̌̓̇͠͝ͅŤ̸̡̢̢̖͓̫̫͙̟͙͉̯̰͎̼̼̞̗̤̫̒̎̇͊̓́̄̑̏̈̊̐̓̿̓͊̈́͗̐̎͑̇́̍̎͐̕̕͝ͅͅE̷̡̡̨̫̭̳͚̝̘̥͙̺̻̺͖̥̺͍͚̼̜̼͓͎͓̻̝̠͖̞͇̰̾̕R̴̢̨͇̜͔̹͈̲͚̣͙̝̜͍͎̫̹̼̲̼̠̱̘̣̲̄͛̆̀̋̊́̀̑͆̍̓̂̓̿͌͗̄͒̈̊̽̒̅̅̑͆̽̏͐̉̑͂̿̚̕̕͜͜͜͠ͅͅͅ?̷̨̧̮̯͓̞̟̮͖̣͕͈̤͈̺̭͎̲͖̹̮͉̣͚͓̘͊͝ͅ!̴̢̧̛̛̦̘̻͚̮̘͍̮̞̬̟̝͚̦͓̐̽̍͑͒͑̓͋͜

#The Floofy and Silly Cat Creator // Julie the Cat/My SonicSona #The Cat's 'Secret' Admirer... // Lincoln the Wolf #Your Lord // Lord X #<- ((Special guest star tag))#When Nobody Else is Around // muse interaction/crack

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pokecommunitycenter · 4 years

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Hi Dash !! It’s Time to Meet a Member of the RPC !!

Ditto would like to introduce... Dun Duuuuuun !!

It’s Jason ♡ !! Though some of you may know them as @haematophiliac !!

Established in Spooky October of 2018, they’ve been around the RPC for a good long while as a Team Rocket Scientist OC, but here’s a looksee at some things you may have not known !! Ditto hopes you enjoy getting to know the writer just as much as Ditto did !!

♡ Interview... START !!

Ditto would like you to introduce yourself a little bit. The url you go by, maybe how you picked it. Was it a joke at first that you just stuck with, does it have significant meaning?

The username is what people would call a lover of blood. I started Jax in … 2018? Octoberish and he had the common username including Rocket in it and I decided to pick a theme more fitting to him. Eventually I settled with the current one as it fits him as a blood obsessor to put it bluntly. I mean he likes blood, works around a lot of it and all that so it just… Well, stuck!

Was there something about Team Rocket in general that drew you in? Over other ‘evil’ organizations, Rocket is considered the OG & probably largest. But, over Plasma/Galactic, what made you choose Rocket?

I’ve always been a Rocket fan. I started in the Pokemon fandom (can you call it a fandom back then) in 1998 when I was only eight by watching the anime. You could say that Rocket started my love for bad guys actually! I used to adore Jessie and James so much. They were just so fun, funny and adorable. Maybe I had a crush on one… Ahem! But yes, as a kid I fell for the trio (I didn’t forget loveable Meowth there!) and ever since then I’ve been a fan. I love all the bad guys mind you but Rocket holds a special place in my heart. Just always been like that.

A bonus question !! Did any characters from the original Anime / Franchise… help you develop Jax at all?

A good question but Jax actually was inspired by a character I role played in a completely different fandom. I mean you cannot compare them - Jax is a human with so many faults and the other character is… Well, a plain old monster. But when I first made Jax I put little bits of the old character into him, such as formal speaking and love for blood. He started pretty much as a clean slate. I evolved him over the first few weeks.

Do you think that, because you play a character that is not a ‘good guy’ or as you put it, a monster, that people that may not know you well find you hard to approach?

Indeed so. Though I only speak of experience in the past here! When I played my full out monster in another fandom, people would tell others they were actually scared of me on an OOC level. Needless to say I’ve spoken to many people who were scared and helped them realise that it is just a muse I play. When it comes to Tumblr I find the fandom much more open and less afraid? Though I don’t know for certain because people could be afraid for all I know and I just don’t know. I hope I’m approachable enough anyway!

So then !! To help the part community that may not know you well, or might be a little hesitant because you play a blood loving bad guy, what are some things that you may have in common with everyone? Do you have a favorite pokemon? Or a region that just was WACK & you loved it so much? What’s on that most repeated playlist you got? Or maybe a few movies that you really love?

I read every blog’s rules and I’ve noticed that a lot of people are socially anxious. Which to be fair… I am too! I get nervous around people I don’t know and aahhhh, well, I’m in the exact same boat. We all start as strangers and all it takes is one foot forward to break that ice but, like others, I do find that first step very intimidating. I’m just your average nerd to be fair haha. As for my favourite Pokemon? Sneasel! I fell in love with that little critter after watching the Celebi movie when it came out. Favourite region would be Hoenn. I just have fond memories of it I guess as a Ruby fan. It was the first game my battery ran out of energy on. My music is too horrific for anybody’s ears if that’s what you mean hah. And movies? … … Digimon the movie (1+2+3 in Japan and just the first (all three combined) in UK and presumably other places too).

As someone who feels that weird wiggle when trying to step out of your comfort zone to make friends. Do you have any advice for people that want to get to know you better? Or, reaching out to people in general?

When reaching out to me - or anybody else - I find the best approach can be a simple hello. It instantly shatters that ice between two people. Like… Many of us are afraid to simply say hello. But if you manage to break that first bit it’s amazing! If you don’t there is always another day. Conversation can escalate from a mere hello. Or even reply to an open post if serious or funny! That first step is the hardest indeed but things get easier after that first hurdle. The worst someone can do is walk away and then perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be. Everybody has friends in the end and making more is great.

That said. We all know how the Poke RPC has its ups, & its downs. Sometimes both happen in one day. LOL. There is always room for growth though, & Ditto believes that everyone can work together to make that happen. Is there anything you would like to see change in the community?

Everything in life will come with ups and downs, it’s just how things go. We can all work through things however. If something bad happens there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. As a community it is great we can all work on whatever needs addressing. I understand some people rather turn a blind eye depending upon the situation. We all should work on what makes us comfortable. Nonetheless, if I could change one thing I’d change anon hate. Argh. That’s one thing that gets under my skin. We, as a community, should be open to criticism and praise alike and nobody should need to harass another person anonymously. If someone has a disagreement then they should tell the person. Only that way can they work on the issue. But then again there is needless anon hate without true purpose behind it and that makes me sad. But nobody is perfect and sometimes people will rear their ugly side. Yet when anon hate has popped up it has been utterly overwhelming to see everybody support each other with kindness!

Ditto wonders, do you think anon hate may… slow down, or go away, if it was ignored instead of responded to when received? Most times, the people that feel the need to do hurtful things to others is for response. The attention received whether it is good or bad.

I think it’s highly dependent upon the situation. As someone who has received hate in the past (not on Tumblr mind you) I found that even ignoring people doesn’t work. Yet every case is different. Some do it for response, some do it to just get under someone’s skin. We can’t tell which however. If, say, it is needless hate then to ignore it would be the best option, even reporting it to Tumblr’s staff. But if in the situation something needs defending like a misconception then it could be a good idea to clear the air. Keyword could though. I’ve learned that people will get ideas into their mind and battle for it rather than accepting what is truth. In those cases a good air clearing is good and then to ignore any further.... Jabbing could be best. But if people feel the need to respond they should have the freedom to, as well as the freedom to ignore it.

Is there anything you’d like to pass on to those in the RPC that receive anon hate? Maybe a word of advice, or just something supportive to remember if it ever happens?

Well, as long as someone isn’t breaking any rules, doing something bad OOC or whatever- Actually I was going to say they should keep going and doing their thing. And yet I feel the need to mention that all people make mistakes in their lives. Anon hate is a bad way to go. The person on the receiving end of a message is a person too. They have feelings and thoughts and a life also. If you ever receive anon hate then just remember that there’s someone sending it and perhaps they don’t realize their mistake. That isn’t to say it’s justified. Just that people do indeed forget there are real people involved. … I think I word things bad! I mean… Anon hate is wrong, end of. But it is so easy to forget that real people are sat to read it. If you ever get anon hate then it is best to ignore it. That spark could evolve into a full blown fire and make you worse off. Hm, I forgot my train of thought but in the end we all need less hate and to just enjoy ourselves. People tend to send hate from bad experiences with the person or disagreements if right or wrong on either side but words are just words on a screen. They can say all they want to you but you are you. You are a person who deserves a life and love and no mere text on a monitor - Or phone screen! - can ever truly harm you.

Ditto thinks you did a fine job. We all take time to find words in our own ways, & no one has the perfect ones all the time. So please do not worry about wording things. It takes some practice sometimes, when you’re put on the spot !!

Ditto would like to wrap up with something uplifting & super positive. After your time here in the Poke RPC, what are some of your favorite memories? Things that make you stick around, or just enjoy seeing go on? Give Ditto a little insight ( & the RPC too ) on what makes you happy to be here.

I have a vast array of good memories. Mainly ones of that first move of saying hello to someone or just that first interaction. Then again you’re asking someone with a bad memory! I truly just enjoy seeing people having a good time, enjoying their time here. When people are comfortable enough to do crack threads, that’s something that makes me smile. For instance the RPC could have been super strict and look down upon anything not considered serious and yet there everybody is just having fun! I enjoy watching people get along all in all. When new relations are formed, plots explored, the crack-like threads that ensue. Dash commentary is always a favourite. It shows someone isn’t afraid to get involved. I like it when people aren’t afraid. As I said, we’re all humans with lives and just watching people have fun makes me smile, even if I’m not involved. And of course, being involved in things makes me happy too, to just be included :D

A big Thank You !! to Jason for allowing Ditto to take some of their time for this interview.

Ditto hopes everyone has a good Monday !!

See you next week for the next Community Interview. ♡

#haematophiliac #◓ Community Interview !!#Community Interview

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syncopatedid · 4 years

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And Then, Morning

28.12.19: Kazetsuyo Episode 18: And Then, Morning

It’s still 2 hours till midnight tomorrow so more muses and thoughts GO!! *cracks typing fingers*

So anyway, imo Fujioka’s the strongest for the moment because he’s already figured out his reason for running. (Yeah, some guys have all the luck). It breaks my heart that Fujioka and Haiji parted ways because of Haiji’s injury, but it wouldn’t have been a good idea for Haiji to follow Fujioka to Rikudo anyway, definitely not in his weakened state of mind. This will end up being another salty Wall of Text if I were to continue about these two but we gotta hussle so moving on.

If memory serves me right, the mass media definitely had a much meatier role in the novel than the anime. Though I don’t remember much about the tabloid reporter who published the KK scandal, the one impression that stayed with me was that the Aotake squad had this ardent supporter from one particular sports magazine reporter, who saw their potential when they were still starting out as n00bs and featured them in his column. And when the team eventually did become a media sensation on the track, they returned the favor by granting only him and his paper/magazine exclusive interviews and coverage of the team (that sports reporter guy had a name too so you know he kinda mattered, I just forgot what it is atm, whoops). It just warms my heart to know the boys are still humble and remembered who believed in them when nobody else cared. ｡ﾟ(♡´□`)ﾟ｡

This is actually the part where I thought, “Ah. we finally have canon confirmation that Shindo’s the vice-captain of the squad”, ahaha. They never did specify who the vice-captian was, you know? I feel like the guys didn’t even nominate their vice-captain; Shindo just kinda went around doing his thing and the rest of the squad just assumed he’s the VC and that was that, lol. I did wonder in earlier episodes if it might have been Yuki or Kakeru because they seemed good for the role as well, but yeah, Shindo! Also, I love his expression in this scene he looks so *gasped* that Tazaki is about to do the dogeza grovel.

Kakeru has more 1-on-1 time with the individual senpais in the anime compared to the novel, but it’s him with Yuki that stood out most for me because this part is also canon in the novel, too. And this chapter of them interacting really makes me soft, since it revealed something about Yuki’s family as well as Kakeru’s situation back home. Yuki seems to be more open with Kakeru when they’re talking one-to-one, probably because he senses Kakeru is in the same boat, so revealing his background is both a way to reassure Kakeru that he’s not judging him, but at the same time is assured that KK won’t judge him. As I’ve mentioned before, I feel that people in the same circumstances tend to be more sensitive at perceiving others who are in the same boat. Birds of a feather, I guess!

p.s: My dear fandom friend, I know what my reply was, but I think I may have actually found the One True Answer to that poll you conducted, might have been the twins after all, I’m just saying! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

#Kazetsuyo Bonenkai 2019 #kazetsuyo #Kaze ga tsuyoku fuiteiru #run with the wind

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hellrager · 6 years

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THEMES & PREFERENCES QUESTIONNAIRE !!

aka, things i’ve always wanted to ask people / have people ask me. please remember to repost rather than reblog! happy munday ~ !!

what types of genres do you gravitate towards ? Depends on the character I’m on. For Damien that would be Crack / Adventure / Slice of Life / Horror / Splatter / Some Angst / and surprisingly Romance / Romantic Comedy. I say ‘suprisingly’ because I usually stay away from Romance themes on all my muses because they simply don’t work with them. However, with Damien this genre comes quite naturally, due to the nature of the game and I’m really enjoying it. Because its not this deep, cheesy, heartache kind of romance. But that awkward teenage romance where characters can act goofy, make mistakes without it causing a chain of needless angst threads following. It feels more natural when not everything is perfect and characters make stupid slip ups. Same goes for Slice of Life. A genre I usually stay away from for how utterly BORING it is. Works with Monster Prom though, because you can monsterfy boring ass everyday situations!

what types of genres do you gravitate away from ? Like I said, really cheesy romance or slice of Life. Also fluff. Like, don’t get me wrong, some fluff is nice. Especially with Monsters! But too much just gets boring and Damien isn’t the kind of guy that would cuddle up with you when you asked him to. Fluff is rare here but when it happens, it happens for a reason and says something about Damien’s character.

what types of characters do you most often play / enjoy ? The Bad Boys and the Manly Men. You know, your local rowdy, teachers have given up on, and who has a bad reputation for being a criminal and a lost cause, yet there are still people who want to get to know him and discover a lot of things about why he’s the way he is. Ahh, its my bread and butter. And on the other side, we have the whiskey drinking, kickass manly man type who rides a motorbike and has no time to ask questions. They always have stubble and a cigarette between their lips and say stuff like ‘I’m too old for this shit’ or call younger characters ‘kid’. You know, the type that would beat the shit out of my beloved delinquent boys. Also Monsters, if that wasn’t obvious. Make these two types monsters and we’re good. 👌 👌 👌

what types of characters do you seldom play ? female characters. I simply can’t wrap my head around how to roleplay them, even if it doesn’t matter? I mean, I could roleplay a female character the same I roleplay my delinquents but my head just can’t work with that. Female characters are still different - there is something about them that let’s you know that this is a woman and not a dude because the mun can portray this female character differently despite giving her a personality close to a guy. It’s fascinating but doesn’t work for me. I have never once in my life managed to pull off a female character and I simply enjoy my boys too much - so females will never, ever be for me. I prefer to just interact with the cool female muses around me. ❤ Also goodies two shoe ‘used to be a wimp but now I am a hero’ characters.

any pairing tropes you particularly enjoy ? BROMANCE ... I just really love the romantic comedy elements you can implement into this and even make it end up in angst? Where do you go from a romantic comedy to angst?? In a Bromance is where. Its just a genuine relationship of two dudes that just love each others company and then have to deal with their feelings and I think that’s great cause once they get over the awkward part, they still act like they did before. As in, being jerks to each other but deep down they know that they love each other’s stupid asses. I like it because its full of funny elements and if you do it properly, it doesn’t have to be cheesy at all. Another one I love is BullyxVictim. When the local school bully suddenly gets with the wimpiest kid he used to torture and nobody knows wtf happened and then the wimpy kid turns out to be a real emotional help for him and the bully tells the wimpy kid things that makes them learn about each other while still somewhat keeping that bully attitude. M’yeees.

any platonic tropes you particularly enjoy ? Siblings. I like how sibling relationships work like.. Having an older sister who is really badass and always helps you out, or an annoying little brother that pops in at the worst possible time. I think you can do a lot with that. Otherwise I really like big, scary men and little girls/boys as in some kind of father and adopted child relationship. You have this scary dude sit there with tiny teacups so the little kid doesn’t get sad, hah. Bonus points when the scary dude is also a monster that cuddles with the teeny character.

any antagonistic tropes you particularly enjoy ? BOI.. You came to the right person. Villains are my thing. I love villains. I can barely count the amount of villains in my hall of fame. To just name a few, I really like the crazy type. The kind of villain that has obviously lost their marbles. You can tell from the way they dress, act and everyone knows that they got a few screws loose which makes them really unpredictable and everyone is scared of them, even the other bad guys! ( for example The Joker or Vaas Montenegro ). Another type which is more of an Anti Hero Type, yet I count them as villains cause they put their life above others in order to reach the goals, they think are just. These gritty, dark types everybody tries to understand, yet their world view is so wraped cause they are so bitter. ( For example Alex Mercer ),

what are your preferred thread types ? It depends on the roleplay. I prefer to do crack in short replies to get a quick back and forth, in order to keep the current joke alive. Long posts don’t really work like that. But big plot roleplays or angsty roleplays where you have to describe how a character feels in this moment, has to be para. I love reading a lot about the other muse. The more information I get, the more I can work with it in order to write my own reply. I just think people should remember that you don’t have to describe exactly every little thing in detail ( like the weather etc ), otherwise reading gets tedious.

what are your favorite types of interactions ? On this blog, that would be Damien hanging out with his friends, them getting up to all kinds of shenanigans or Damien arguing with authority figures. Just so his punk side can really shine. I love when characters immediately find something to bond over, or end up hating each others guts. As long as its not this awkward back and forth, I take it!

what’s on your wishlist ? what sorts of threads / plots / relationships are you craving right now ? Oh man, I know that might sound kinda selfish but I’d really like to have more threads with people noticing that Damien isn’t being himself fully? Most of his classmates admire or fear him, but no one has picked up on how much he pretends to be someone he’s not entirely. Yes, he loves the shit he does and stands behind all his deicisons but he only publicly indulges in those things and not things he also wants to do, like the haircutting thing, simply out of the fear of ruining the image his dad’s kinda created for him with the way they raised him as some kind of warrior in a men household.

It would just really help me with character development because this is such a big part of his character and I think it makes his whole carachter way more interesting. And the relationships I mentioned above! Maybe even a combination of that. Gladly, me and @thezomblr already worked on something along those lines, in a way that we could both develop our muses and I’m really thankful for that ❤ ❤ I just invite everyone else to come to me with ideas like that, I would be all over it, trust me.

tagged by: @bonejcnes tagging: @thezomblr @loveyourfears @doviilove @purpleshopkeep @royalreef

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gukyi · 7 years

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magic of the night | myg

⇒ summary: there is a witch you go to for spells and potions whenever human nature is not enough for things to go your way, and he loves you more than anyone else ever will.

⇒ witch!au, halloween!au

⇒ pairing: yoongi x female reader

⇒ word count: 5k

⇒ genre: horror, angst

⇒ warnings: ft. obsessive characters and actions

⇒ a/n: this is my contribution to the wonderful stories no one dares to tell collab i’m doing with some other very lovely writers!!! i was given yoongi, and witch yoongi is just smth i can’t resist ;-;

People always say never to make deals with the devil, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make deals with witches. Witches who are more than willing to strike up a bargain with you so that the both of you get what you want.

When people think of witches they think of hags in tall hats, black cloth that covers their green, wart-filled bodies, high-pitched cackles from shacks in the middle of the fucking forest, warning signs pointed every which way. They think of bubbling cauldrons and dusty old spellbooks lining the walls, jars with moving eyeballs and other such body parts resting on shelves and tables, a bent wand and hexes on the tips of their tongues.

Well, hey, at least Halloween got the spellbook part right.

Your local witch inhabits a small apartment on the outskirts of town, where the streetlights almost always malfunction and the alleyways are particularly shadowed. He lives in an underground lair, you like to call it, one that leads to a fenced-off garden, where magic plants you’ve never heard of grow. To others, he’s just a strangely pale neighbor who never leaves his home. To you, he’s your savior, and your nightmare.

Min Yoongi is small, a little frail, and kind of unintimidating, but he is the most powerful person you’ve ever met. His black eyes glow whenever he’s casting a spell, brewing up some sort of concoction that can have your biggest nemesis dead in an hour, striking some sort of deal with those who dare to cross his path. Hair black as All Hallow’s Eve, lips red like the blood spilled from those who betray him, glint in his eye akin to the way the moon shimmers in the darkness, and magic at the tip of his fingers, ready to be cast, Min Yoongi is alluring and demonic and unlike anybody you’ve ever met, interacted with, and perhaps that’s why you keep end up going back to him.

That’s your first mistake.

The shadows of the night are particularly harrowing as they follow you through the city, from where you jump off the night bus as the stars faintly twinkle in the sky, all the way to where Yoongi lives, turning down empty alleyways and passing by stores chained shut. It’s as if someone’s right behind you, tracing your every move, but each time you turn around, nobody’s there. Trips to Yoongi’s aren’t normally like this; you’re normally there and back in a flash, poison in your bag or an incantation in your hands. There’s something ominous about this journey, though that may be the fact that Halloween is near, only a couple of days away at most.

These outskirts are strangely familiar to you, a path you’ve walked down many a time. You’ve been meeting with him for over a year now, dropping by almost once a month to see what’s new. What’s luck and hard work when you have a witch to solve your problems, really? Why bother trying when all you need is a little jinx to have things go your way? Your employers, your friends and family and enemies alike, they would have your head on a stake if they found out what you were doing, but you hardly care. Magic wasn’t made for the greater good, anyway. It wasn’t made to help the general public. Magic is unholy, sinful, lying, cheating, and it does not come without a price.

Min Yoongi warned you that coming around Halloween would be dangerous. He said to stay away this month, avoid visiting him to spare yourself the horror, but sometimes, you just can’t resist. His magic is intoxicating, a drug you refuse to get rid of, a craving you’ll never be able to satisfy despite the amount you have. The moment there’s an itch under your skin, a tingling that you need to do something about, you’re back on the late bus, travelling through the darkened city until the very last stop, knocking at his door with a hesitant smile. Min Yoongi should know that he’ll never be able to get rid of you.

Cobwebs line the pillars that hold his crumbling entrance up, the little porch with a metal fence that should deter anybody from ringing that rusty old doorbell of his. His little apartment is, dare you say, the epitome of a cheesily spooky Halloween house, one with nice old ladies behind the door and a platter full of king-sized candy bars, only the people in Min Yoongi’s neighborhood know better than to knock on his door.

You aren’t one of those people.

It’s a while for Yoongi to creak open this archaic wooden door of his after you put your fist to it, tapping gently so as not to disturb his sleeping neighbors. Min Yoongi always works best in the early hours of the morning, when the city is asleep and his power is strongest.

It seems as if he knows it’s you before he even looks you in the face, a smirk present on those thin red lips of his as he says your name is a sickly smooth tone, syllables dripping with venom, with interest.

“Back so soon?” Yoongi muses to himself, hardly staring at you as the moon illuminates your shadowed figure, door ajar only enough for you to see half of his face, a bit of his torso, his shoe wedged in between the crack. “I thought I told you to stay away this season.”

“The magic never rests,” you respond cheekily.

“That it doesn’t, though it appears that your desire to use it hasn’t ceased, either,” Yoongi says, and you almost think he’s going to keep you trapped outside, in the cold of October, send you back home and make you stay there until the month fades into November, but he doesn’t. He opens his door a little more, the familiar scent of aged parchment and something bitter hitting your nose as he lets you inside.

Not much has changed since the last time you walked in, you realize as you take in your surroundings, dark and haunting and bubbling with magic, magic you itch to uncover.

It’s such a shame you weren’t born into witchcraft like he was, can’t perform spells or incantations without the assistance of someone like him, though you suppose that if you had it, you’d never be able to control yourself, anyway. Not that you have very good self-restraint even as a mortal, because even when you insist to yourself that you’ll let your problems fade away naturally, solve them of your own accord, you always end up back here.

“It’s not safe for you to be here at this time,” Yoongi says, but if he really meant that, he wouldn’t have invited you inside his haunted abode in the first place. There’s never a straightforward thing with Min Yoongi, always loopholes and secrets and fine print that you hardly bother to pay attention to, always things you should be more concerned about but aren’t. After all, if you’ve had a year of striking up successful deals with him, what’s supposed to change now? “You know that.”

“Yet, here I am.”

“All Hallow’s Eve makes my magic stronger than ever,” Yoongi continues, like it’s a fucking warning, like it should deter you from being here but here you stay, here you will stay until you get what you want, just like every other time. “You can’t trust witches around this time. Not like you do every other month.”

You disregard his cautionary words and focus on the task at hand. “You said your magic was strongest now?”

“I tell you almost straight up that someone’s going to end up dead if you continue being here like this, and all you care about is my magic?” Yoongi asks, eyebrows raised with a disapproving frown on his face. He tuts, clicking his tongue to his teeth as he shakes his head, turning away from you and walking down to his basement lair, a place you’ve informally officially titled, “Witch World”, just to see if you can get a kick out of him. Min Yoongi does not laugh very much.

You follow him down the creaky stairs, still not used to the way they wobble beneath your feet despite the fact that you’re here almost every month, asking Yoongi for a deal, a bargain, a favor. These stairs are always one of the things you forget about this place.

There is a significantly larger amount of open spellbooks in the lair than normal, strewn all over the place, from the shelves to the tables to the counters, even some floating in mid-air, casting shadows on the rickety wooden floor. It smells like your old chemistry lab in here—it always does, if you’re being completely honest—but you know that whatever liquids rest in the flasks that line his walls most definitely aren’t the substances you used during your college experiments. Min Yoongi pays them no attention as he snatches one of the floating spellbooks in his hands, pulling it down and quickly paging through it.

“Am I interrupting something?” You ask, taking a seat on what looks to be a massive fucking eyeball. It feels like one of those yoga balls you get at the gym. Bounces like one, too.

Yoongi looks up from his book, sneering as he narrows his black eyes your way. “You always are.”

“Mind enlightening me about what it is this time?” You ask.

“Don’t bounce on that, you’re gonna pop the veins and then I’m gonna have to fucking find another human eyeball that isn’t from a cemetery and redo the entire spell,” Yoongi spits the order at you, snapping harshly as you immediately come to a halt, slowly getting off of the thing. Your hands are all covered in eyeball goop now. You can’t find a good place to wipe them off, so you settle for the thighs of your jeans. Hopefully this shit comes out in the wash.

“Where did you get this first one?” You cross your arms, looking at him with your interest piqued. There’s never a dull moment in the Witch World, really. Not with Yoongi around.

“Don’t ask. Anyway, right now I’m just experimenting with different mixtures,” Yoongi says like it’s no big deal, motioning lazily towards the stove, overcrowded with bubbling pots and pans, multicolored liquids spilling out over the sides. It doesn’t look like Yoongi is the slightest bit concerned about them. “Trying to see which one’s gonna start the bird flu and wipe out the human race.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to Yoongi in shock, making him chuckle.

“I’m kidding. Just trying to see how I can keep my magical powers as strong as they are now all year long,” Yoongi says, making you breathe a sigh of relief. “Though your arrival isn’t helping very much.”

“I just have a simple request of you, this time,” you promise, beginning your appeal to him. Yoongi rolls his eyes but doesn’t seem to be paying attention to anything else besides you, so you take it as your cue to continue. “My boss is going to fire me if I don’t bump up my work ethic within the next couple of days, and—”

“I’ve told you time and time again, Y/N,” Yoongi interrupts, chiding you as he shakes his head, “I can’t change personalities. That’s not something witches have ever been capable of.”

“That’s not what I was going to ask you, Min Yoongi,” you retort, glaring into those ivy eyes of his. If it weren’t for that glint in them, the light of the moon reflecting in the black, you might think he was a monster.

In a twisted, horrific sense, he sort of is.

“I just wanted to see if you could give me something that would boost my job performance so I don’t get fired,” you finish, wandering over his shelves, covered from end to end with spellbooks and incantations and everything in between. One of the books pops out of the shelf without you even doing anything, making you jump back in fright. “Just for a day or two, to impress him.”

“That’s a hefty order that you’ve got for me,” Yoongi comments, but you know he’s a liar. He’s done worse things for you before, more drastic requests with a snap of his fingers and a flick of his wand.

“You can handle it,” you respond sharply.

Yoongi hums, flipping through the pages of one of the open spellbooks on his granite counter as he begins to search for the spell that will fulfill your desire. It’s a simple thing to ask of him, just a little concoction that will prevent you from getting fired and having to go through the arduous task of getting hired all over again, and you know it won’t take long until he gets what he needs.

“Is that all you desire, Y/N?” Yoongi asks of you, a raised eyebrow your way as he begins to gather the ingredients from his shelves, cabinets, drawers.

“If you could make it taste like a caramel latte, then that would be ideal,” you say cheekily, earning a pointed glare from Yoongi as he compiles all of his ingredients into an empty pot, pushing over all of the other ones cluttered on his stove to make room for the new one. It’s really an art, the way he so expertly makes these potions for sick, twisted people like you, people who are too cowardly to face their problems on their own, fight their own battles like everybody else.

Soon enough, Yoongi’s got a tiny little glass bottle in his hands, a sparkling silver liquid inside. There can’t be more than two sips in that thing. He grabs your wrist and roughly places the object in your open palm.

“And for payment?” You ask, not willing yourself to fall for his tricks, always remembering that with every magical deed comes a price you must pay, or so God help you face the consequences.

Yoongi pauses for a second, contemplating how he should make you compensate him for his actions. Fetch some more ingredients from the woods an hour away? Go grave digging for some much-needed body parts? Hunt down those who have wronged him? Bring them to Yoongi to face their punishments? You’ve done all of that and more, so you can hardly imagine what he has in store for you this time.

So it comes as a great surprise when Yoongi opens his mouth and says, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” You ask as your mouth drops, speechless. You feel as though there’s definitely some fine print here, something you’re missing that you’ll soon end up paying for anyway. “I owe you nothing for this mixture?”

“For the potion that I have just provided you, you owe me nothing. It is free.”

You can hardly believe your ears, but if Yoongi says it then you have to believe it. There’s no fine print with this one, you don’t think, not when Yoongi’s just explicitly told you that it’s free. You’re hesitant but thankful, tight smile on your lips as you walk back upstairs, careful not to drop the bottle in your hands. Yoongi accompanies you as you bid your farewell, waving a single hand as you scurry off into the darkness of the night, shadows overtaking your body as you leave Yoongi’s view.

You should know better, Yoongi thinks to himself, but you’ll never learn. Magic’s never free.

Min Yoongi has known you for an entire year, and throughout that year, he keeps thinking you’ll stop this nonsense, leave him alone and let your fucking morality get the better of you, just for once. Face your own problems without needing to turn to magic to solve everything. People like you are people Yoongi finds nothing less than despicable, but they’re exactly the people Yoongi needs if he wants to keep living life the way he does. It’s no wonder he’s been able to keep this secret, somewhat-illegal business going. Humans are terrible people. Homo homini lupus.

You’ve always intrigued him, really, and he’s not exactly sure why. Why is it that a mere mortal like yourself, one with a sarcastic lilt akin to his own and a craving for magic that you do not possess, has enchanted Yoongi beyond words? He almost doesn’t want to see you go.

Humans are fickle beings but for some reason, you’re always coming back to him. Yoongi doesn’t have very many constants in his life, not his family, not the friends he doesn’t have, not even the fucking city animals that hide out in his enchanted backyard, but you’re always there and Yoongi thinks he might actually start wanting you to be.

But you’re a silly girl, one who’s blindly placed all of her faith in a devious witch himself, and that’s your own fucking fault.

You think you can knock on his door whenever you feel like it, barge into his apartment as if you own the damn place, but you can’t. You should have been deterred the first time your fist hit the wood, should have panicked and scampered the second he opened the door and his eyes glowed black, but you didn’t.

You stayed.

This isn’t a good thing, Yoongi realizes, as he finds himself growing more and more attached to your mere fucking existence as each day passes. His power may be growing stronger during this tenth month, but so is his sick infatuation with you, one that makes him want to always be near you, watch over you.

You leave his home, his humble little abode on the outskirts of the big city, and it leaves him speechless, always wanting more, always wishing he could reach out and grab your hand and convince you to stay a little longer.

Maybe it’s because he’s so alone these days, always trapped in his home since no one wants to associate themselves with a pale boy with pitch black irises. Perhaps his loneliness is what makes him crave human contact the most, his solitude the reason why he wants nothing more than to be by your side.

Humans are fickle beings, and even though Yoongi’s an immortal, a witch, nonetheless, it seems that he’s become something akin to them anyway.

Not a damn thing in this rusty, shitty old apartment has gone untouched by you, down to the goddamn coasters on his kitchen table, and Yoongi relives each memory every time he steps into a room, sees you standing there with an apple in your hand, or a book, a candle, a jar, a pen. That’s the thing about witches. They never forget.

Yoongi conjures up images of you in clouds of smokes, bubbling cauldrons that play back his favorite memories like he’s rewatching old DVD’s, every spell he tries to catch seems to have some sort of connection to you, to your existence, your impact on his miserably lonely life, and it’s driving him fucking insane. You won’t get out of his head and Yoongi doesn’t ever want you to leave him alone here, trapped with his thoughts and his spellbooks.

The magic he gives you is never free, you always compensate him in some form or another, but Yoongi’s starting to believe that your presence is payment enough for him, a brief hour or less of his aching day where he gets to see you. He never wants you to leave him, never wants to see you walk out of his lopsided front door, hop onto the night bus that makes its rounds and never return to him. He knows you’ll never really stop being with him, always always in search of more magic than you have, but Yoongi makes sure you’ll always come back to him. He always does, every time he sends you off with a bottle in your hand, an incantation on your lips.

He’s going mad with the thought of you but Yoongi thinks he might be okay with it.

There’s no one he’d rather spend eternity with than you.

One thing Yoongi loves about his lucrative little business, this probably-illegal selling of spells and potions so that pathetic mortals can get what they want (not without payment, though) without having to resort to humane means, is the fact that he has the ability to track every customer he’s ever had, see how their lives are going and how they’ve changed since meeting with him. Yoongi doesn’t just deal with spells. He deals with people, too.

No one gets to strike up a bargain with Yoongi without going through the motions, first. Not even you, despite the fact that the second you walked through his door Yoongi felt himself getting weak in the knees, mind reeling. Before someone can finally ask request their desires, they sign a form that promises them to Yoongi, gives him a piece of their soul for him to look through whenever he gets bored, interested. All part of the whole gig.

Yoongi’s lonely, but he’s never alone.

He pays you a visit the day after you come to see him, only a couple of days before All Hallow’s Eve. Yoongi splashes the ingredients into the cauldron by his dented black couch and sits back comfortably, waiting for the mixture to settle in, the glittery black powder to dissolve within the liquid that constantly flows throughout the pot, stirs itself without even needing to be touched.

Soon enough, you appear within the pot, like a moviestar on a screen, and it’s almost Disney movie-esque how you’re there, displayed in the broth of his cauldron as he watches with intent. He’d love to see how the potion he gave you works out.

(Magic is never free.)

He’s caught you right as you’re starting your workday, watches you place your bag down at your cubicle with a heave and a sigh, clearly not pleased to be there. Your day is about to get much more exciting soon enough.

First, it begins with you tripping over your desk chair with a pile of papers in your hand, official-looking ones too, stumbling on the leg and falling to the floor, papers scattering every which way as all the heads turn to face you. Yoongi smiles to himself as he catches a glimpse of your flustered appearance, frantic as you scramble to gather all of the materials you’ve dropped. You’re cute like this, Yoongi thinks to himself, even cuter when your eyes widen at the sight of your boss passing by the mess you’ve made, shaking his head in disapproval as he steps over the fallen papers.

The day doesn’t go by much better, but Yoongi won’t say if that is or is not part of his plan. You keep sending the wrong emails, unfinished and unprofessional messages to professional business people. You stumble over your words in board meetings you’re typically confident in, you’re late on all of the work you need to hand in. You fumble with your computer and try to get it to work, curse in front of your boss when it inevitably doesn’t.

Yoongi feels like he’s watching a fucking sitcom, like he should be sitting on his couch with some popcorn as he stares into his cauldron, amused expression on his face like a damn madman.

He can’t say that this was the effect the concoction was supposed to have on you after you so graciously requested the opposite of him, but he also can’t say he isn’t pleased with the results it’s given him. He doesn’t typically look in on your life like this, doesn’t like to intrude on the one person that Yoongi believes keeps him sane in this disaster of a world, but he’s particularly glad he did today.

Yoongi always knows how to keep you coming back to him.

Yoongi never wants you to stop.

It’s Halloween when you’re banging at his door, another workday of embarrassing mishaps behind you as you do (Yoongi would know, he watched you today, as well), and Yoongi has never been so pleased to see your scowling face on his front porch. You’re dangling the empty vial in front of his face, remnants of silver sticking to the sides of the glass, and Yoongi chuckles to himself, letting you inside.

Even like this, you’re hauntingly beautiful, an enchantress to his desperate mind.

“Min Yoongi, what the hell was this?” You shout at him, wild and uncontained, just how he likes it.

“The spell you asked for,” Yoongi says mindlessly, walking downstairs to his stove and pouring two cups of tea from the kettle resting atop it. It bubbles in the cup, dark liquid steaming as it hits the cold glass of the teacups until Yoongi adds a bit of milk to tone it down, mask the taste.

You follow him, standing across from him with his granite counter in between the two of you as you furiously take a sip of the scorching beverage. It doesn’t seem to affect you in the slightest. “No, it was not.”

“What do you mean?” Yoongi asks, playing dumb. He won’t let you know he keeps watch over you.

“I’ve made a fool of myself these past few days, Min Yoongi,” you say, frowning. “In front of my boss and everything, and now I’m probably going to be fired before we can even see the dawn of November.”

“That’s such a shame,” Yoongi responds, emotionless.

“This isn’t what I fucking asked you for,” you snap at him, finishing your tea in a couple of long gulps before angrily slamming the teacup down on his counter, probably denting the surface from the force.

“That’s what you got, Y/N,” he tells you, silently casting a spell on your empty teacups so that they will head to the kitchen and wash themselves. “I told you it was dangerous to be around here this month.”

“This month is almost over.”

“Tonight is when my magic is strongest, most unpredictable,” Yoongi says as he brings you upstairs, stands still as you approach his door with a fire, a fury. You’re beautiful when you’re mad. Yoongi’s just mad. “You should have listened to me, Y/N. You can never trust a witch.”

“I trusted you,” you spit as you turn to open his door.

It’s locked. You find yourself shaking the handle, two hands on it as it rattles in its place, refusing to budge. When you turn to him, Yoongi’s grinning, eyes dark and big and terrifying.

He’s a monster, but he always was. You were just dumb enough to trust the pale boy with the magic in the tips of his fingers.

“Open your fucking door, Min Yoongi,” you order, but your voice falters. Yoongi’s power strengthens.

He shakes his head, evil smile on his face as he nears you, each step forcing you further and further back until you’re pressed up against the wood of his door, his eyes boring into your soul. That’s what you signed up for, really, when you agreed to this binding deal.

“Yoongi…” You say, eyes growing wide as he nears you, leaving only a sliver of space between your face and his.

He reaches up, cold hand pressing against the skin of your cheek as he moves a strand of hair from your face. You shiver under his touch, feeling your skin turn to frost when his finger meets your cheek.

You’re so beautiful like this, Yoongi thinks. You’re beautiful always, but the sight of you in front of him, finally realizing the gravity of the situation, finally seeing Min Yoongi as more than just a facilitator, as the witch he truly is, it’s breathtaking.

“You should have known better, Y/N,” Yoongi murmurs into your skin. “You’re mine, now.”

Yoongi’s finally got you where he wants you, got you in the palm of his hand, unable to escape his grasp. He can love you any way, but he loves you best like this.

The windows slam shut and the curtains blow, and lightning strikes outside.

⇒ hmu with feedback or just talk to me here!

#sfwbangtan #bangtan bookclub #bangtanwriters-net #bts writing squad #yoongi angst #bts angst #suga angst #yoongi scenario #bts scenario #suga scenario #yoongi imagine #suga imagine #bts imagine #bts au #yoongi au #suga au #halloween collab #w: magic of the night #ive never written horror before i hope this is alright ;-;

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my-dark-words · 7 years

Text

I Can Wait

A one-off Darkiplier story, based on the version of Darkiplier I write in Choose Your Mistakes. This was requested, as somebody wanted to see how Dark might interact with a child.

He never knew where he was going to turn up. The locations were always unpredictable, but the prey waiting for him at the other end rarely varied. Souls that were lost, weary and worn out were easy pickings, and while Dark enjoyed the occasional challenge, he could not tolerate defiance. His prey was not yet here. Dark liked it that way. He greatly preferred to lay in wait rather that pursue an undignified chase. It also gave him time to understand the soul he was about to take.

This was a fairly average home, in about the state that you’d expect when the occupants are not expecting visitors. A few toys were scattered around the living room, but not many. Family photos lined the wall, displaying a happy family of three in each one. Dark didn’t yet know which parent was marked for him to take. He never did ahead of time. All would be clear soon, it was early evening and most humans returned home at this time. He removed a blanket strewn across the couch, folded it neatly on the side, and waited. Dark was very good at waiting. It was easy to be patient when he knew he’d always win in the end. “Who are you?” The question apparently came from nowhere, jolting Dark from his thoughts. He turned slowly on the couch to stare at the interruption. A child stood in a doorway, clutching an electronic game in one hand. “That is a profoundly interesting question,” Dark mused, glaring at the child as he stood. “Did Dad let you in?” the child asked. Dark regarded him coldly. He was probably no more than 8 years old, and in need of new shoes and a haircut. “Where is he?” the child insisted. “I am waiting for him,” Dark rumbled, a small smile creeping across his lips. Most adults found the expression concerning, but it was always hard to know how kids would react. “He’s kind of late,” the child mumbled, shuffling his feet. “Are you his friend?” Dark straightened his suit to hide his irritation. The souls of children were not completely formed. They were not ripe for the harvest. “Would I be able to get in if I was not?” Dark asked back. “Oh, okay,” the child replied, apparently satisfied with this answer. He returned slowly to his room. Dark presumed he’d been there the whole time. Dark sighed quietly and continued inspecting the house. Other witnesses were inconvenient for his purposes, but they did not render his task impossible. The house was fairly clean, but plain. A bouquet of white lilies and a line of cards decorated the mantelpiece below the collection of family photos. It wasn’t to Dark’s taste, but he was not here to comment on the décor. He found nobody else inconveniently lurking around the house as he investigated the master bedroom. This room at least was messy, but only along one side of the bed. The other side was untouched, and not slept in. “Mister?” Dark turned slowly to face the child. “What?” he growled, doing his best to keep his anger from surfacing. “Can you get me some crackers from the pantry? I’ll show you where they are.” Dark blinked slowly. “What?” he said again, his voice a little softer. “Can’t you get them yourself?” “Dad says I’m not allowed to just take food,” he mumbled, staring down and shuffling his feet, “but if an adult gets it then it’s okay.” Dark took a deep breath and rolled his neck. “Will you return to your room and be quiet if I do?” The child nodded quickly. “Then I will do so,” Dark conceded in one of the most generous deals he’d made in some time. The child led him to the kitchen, as quickly as a child would manage to do. He opened the pantry and pointed to a box of crackers at Dark’s chest height. “Why are you here by yourself?” Dark asked, indulging in a moment of curiosity as he handed the child the box. The child tore it open eagerly, grabbing a handful of crackers before offering the, to Dark. Dark shook his head and declined. “Because Dad has to work,” the child said between mouthfuls of food, “and Mummy’s in heaven.” Dark paused. “Is she now?” he muttered. “That’s what Dad says,” the child replied, unfortunately chewing with his mouth open. Dark regarded this with a mix of concealed disgust and fascination. “Ta.” The child handed the box back to Dark, who replaced it on the shelf and closed the pantry. “Now, I believe you were going to return to your room and be quiet?” Dark said, the slightest hint of a threat to his voice. The child apparently didn’t notice. “You wanna see my Pokémon?” he offered. “No,” Dark stated. The child’s activities held absolutely zero interest for him, he was not here to be a babysitter. His cold response did not deter the child. “Wanna see my Legos?” “No,” Dark repeated, harsher the second time. His shell cracked just a little, a second, angry echo of himself appearing for just a second. The child apparently didn’t notice. “Wanna play video games?” the child tried a third time. “No…” Dark grumbled, “… But I will watch.” The child’s face lit up with excitement as he led Dark back towards the living room. He’d reached for Dark’s hand, but Dark hastily set about straightening his tie. “My name’s Tim,” the boy said as he set up his console. Dark smiled, a small one, but a genuine one. “Well, Timothy,” he said softly, “I’m-” “No it’s just Tim,” the boy insisted. Dark was silent. He wasn’t used to being interrupted. The kid was entranced in his video game, some silly platform puzzle game, when the front door unlocked. Dark stood up quickly, straightening his suit as the boy’s father walked in. This was it. This was the soul he was meant to take. “What the…” the man gaped in surprise, a bag of take away food in one hand, “Who are you? How did you get into my house?” Dark smiled a disconcerting smile at the man before returning his attention to Tim for a moment. “I wish you luck in your future endeavours, Tim,” he said. Then Dark stepped confidently up to the worried man. “You and I had some… matters to discuss, Mr Stevenson,” he said, his voice so low it was practically a growl, “but fortunately for you, I have now seen the situation for myself.” “You’re… you’re not from the welfare office, are you?” Tim’s father whispered hurriedly with a worried glance at Tim, happily playing his game. “Please don’t take him away!” Dark smiled in a way that was not at all comforting, showing a little more teeth than was necessary. “No Mr Stevenson, I’m not taking him away.” Dark patted the confused, bedraggled man on the shoulder. “We will talk another time,” Dark said as he exited through the front door, “I can wait.”

#Darkiplier #fanfiction #angst #choose your mistakes

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isempiterna · 7 years

Text

REALLY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES. Repost, don’t reblog! tag 10 ! good luck! TAGGED. @starryeyecl TAGGING. who of my followers haven’t been tagged yet, I tag u

GOTTA DO BOTH GIRLS CAUSE I LOVE OVERSHARING INFORMATION !!!!

the following information is for the verse YELLOW ROSE. information differs by a little or a lot depending on verse

FULL NAME: Lark Maureen Tempest ∬ Sparrow Grace Weave NICKNAME // ALIAS: HILARIOUS STORY TIME Lark used to introduce herself all the time as “Lark, but you can call me Temmy if you want” and nobody would call her Temmy sdhfdskfslhf ∬ one of her friends calls her Spar sometimes AGE: 26 ∬ 20 BIRTHDAY: November 26 (1991) ∬ February 20 (1997) ETHNIC GROUP: European mix (Irish-French, German-Polish-Danish) ∬ European mix ? (Irish-French, British-Indian) NATIONALITY: American LANGUAGE/S: English ∬ English, very limited Spanish SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual ∬ asexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic ∬ demiromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS: single CLASS: middle class / lower middle HOMETOWN/AREA: I just stick em places CURRENT HOME: ┐(ツ)┌ PROFESSION: café owner ∬ student

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: white-blonde, practically white ∬ black EYES: copper brown ∬ light blue FACE: heart ∬ peach LIPS: pouty, rather pink ∬ soft, dark cherries COMPLEXION: European, tans easily ∬ fair, smooth BLEMISHES: beauty marks! one at the inner corner of her eye (left), one at the bottom of her mouth (left), two on her cheek (right) ∬ none SCARS: a few here and there TATTOOS: none HEIGHT: 5′2″ ∬ 5′3″ WEIGHT: ~116 lbs ∬ ~106 lbs BUILD: hourglass, strong, compact ∬ pear, slender, toned FEATURES: major resting bitch face, can’t tell if eyes are bored or bedroom, STRONG ARMS ∬ delicate, almost a sense of ethereal beauty? bordering on creepy, hidden strength

ALLERGIES: none USUAL HAIR STYLE: casual ponytail, messy bun, whatever it’s called when you fold your hair up with a big hair clip?? ∬ down, easily hides her face when necessary, ponytail for running USUAL FACE LOOK: resting bitch, politely waiting for...something?, clear gaze ∬ thoughtful, mild to intense interest in whatever she’s looking at USUAL CLOTHING: comfy, loose ∬ simple, comfortable, subtly stylish

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR/S: losing Sparrow, losing her father ∬ losing her loved ones, what happened in elementary/middle/high school coming back to haunt her in college ASPIRATION/S: take care of her sister FOREVER ∬ get a degree that will help her help people (nursing? doctor? therapist? environmentalist? ??) POSITIVE TRAITS: honest, easy to talk to, very aware of her emotions, can let go of grudges ∬ good listener, friendly, supportive, forgiving, pacifist, Mom Friend NEGATIVE TRAITS: immediately dislikes you if you look at Sparrow funny, doesn’t always lose her temper but when she DOES, doesn’t know how to pull her punches, god her plastic smiles are the most annoying thing in the world, possibly too honest ∬ doesn’t think of her own well-being in the least, can’t stand up for herself, highly manipulable, apologizes for everything, gives way too many chances (as in she never stops giving u another chance) ZODIAC: Sagittarius ∬ Pisces (Aquarius-Pisces cusp) TEMPERAMENT: sanguine ∬ phlegmatic SOUL TYPE/S: warrior ∬ ghdvkhldlf couldn’t take the quiz again but I’d guess server (maybe she coulda been an artist if I hadn’t fucked w things ( ᐛ ) ) VICE HABIT/S: using force when frustrated, cheat day every day? ∬ apathy towards herself, unnecessary guilt, keeping secrets VIRTUES/VICES: kindness & wrath ∬ patience (and also liKE ALL OF THEM AAAA) & ........maybe like sloth...about herself.....emotionally....... FAITH: Lark has faith in herself hghdksvh ∬ Sparrow has faith in the good of others GHOSTS?: maybe a little but probably not ∬ who knows, why not? AFTERLIFE?: nope ∬ maybe, who knows REINCARNATION?: god she wants to be Sparrow’s sister foREVER ∬ maybe, who knows? ALIENS?: why not ∬ w h o kn o w s ? POLITICAL ALIGNMENT: democratic-leaning ∬ democratic-leaning or third party EDUCATION LEVEL: college graduate (4 years) ∬ currently in college

FAMILY.

FATHER: Lionel Tempest ∬ Chandler Weave MOTHER: Phoenix Burke SIBLINGS: Sparrow ∬ Lark EXTENDED FAMILY: uugh I don’t wanna write all this out but Phoenix has a p big family and Lionel has a huge family and Chandler also has a pretty extensive family that he’s largely estranged from NAME MEANING/S: Lark as in the bird ∬ Sparrow as in the bird HISTORICAL CONNECTION?: BIRDS

FAVORITES.

BOOK: the poetry book Sparrow got her ∬ just one favorite?? MOVIE: Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (lotta fond nostalgia) ∬ prolly watches a lot of foreign films? not really a fan of violence 5 SONGS: JUST 5 ??? HOLIDAY: 4th of July bc FIREWORKS ∬ Christmas bc she can give gifts to ppl MONTH: July ∬ late September/early October SEASON: SUMMER ∬ fall and winter and actually spring and heck why not summer too PLACE: wherever her sister is ∬ home, her uncle’s library (visited once when she was very young, still dreams about it) WEATHER: SUMMER NIGHT ∬ mild autumn day, early winter morning SOUND: the crackle of fireworks and fizz of sparklers; ice cracking; distant traffic; Sparrow singing when no one can hear her; the thump of sand-filled canvas; bird wings ∬ snow falling; Lark idly playing the piano; footsteps on carpet; 3am thunder over the mountains; wind chimes and bells and glass tinkling and music boxes SCENT/S: summer air, heavy and humid; smoke (fireworks, campfire); hot spring waters; lilacs ∬ books and paper and binding glue; evergreen trees and juniper berries; the first breath of a cold day; healthy earth and roots and sun-warmed leaves; graphite and fresh ink TASTE/S: orange soda, carbonates; smooth coffee; light, crunchy snacks ∬ fresh fruits and vegetables; colloidal silver; water after a long run; raspberry chocolate FEEL/S: warmth, solid or soft or just the air pressing around; post-workout, heavy muscles but light on the inside, sweet oxygen and satisfaction; cool piano keys and worn foot pedals ∬ sunlight on window seats; scritta paper; winter’s chill; downy blankets and a warm mug; runner’s high ANIMAL/S: KOALAS ∬ so many?? NUMBER: uh ∬ prolly like 3 or smth COLORS: yellow ∬ soft blue and peach

EXTRA.

TALENTS: piano, kick boxing, Worst puns, keeping a straight face ∬ violin, bullet journaling, painting/ink drawing, cooking, running, creative and harmless pranks BAD AT: being patient, cooking, not starting fights with people who are mean to her sister ∬ speaking up for herself, cutting toxic people out of her life, arguing, jokes and sarcasm TURN-ONS: strong people, cute girls, people with secrets, soulful singers ∬ she’s so confused TURN OFFS: too many secrets, dismissive of Sparrow, BAD teeth, narcissism ∬ are u making her uncomfortable? HOBBIES: kick boxing, piano, talking about her sister ∬ reading, journaling, painting/drawing, running, violin TROPES: Action Girl, Plucky Girl, Beauty Mark(s), Cool Big Sis, Daddy’s Girl, DEADPAN SNARKER ∬ Sibling Yin-Yang ∬ Actual Pacifist, Shrinking Violet, The Heart, Friendless Background, Feminine Women Can Cook, Nature Lover AESTHETIC TAGS: coffee n shit, fireworks, summery things, bikes maybe?, that’s yellow, this looks like Sparrow ∬ books, journals, art stuff, blue, snow maybe, skies I guess, pretty things GPOY QUOTES: “When the guys call you bro” ∬ “When you think something’s nice but nobody else does”

FC INFO.

MAIN FC/S: ┐(ツ)┌ ALT FC/S: ┐(ツ)┌ ┐(ツ)┌ OLDER FC/S: ┐(ツ)┌ YOUNGER FC/S: ┐(ツ)┌ VOICE CLAIM/S: me, actually, when I channel Lark (?? it’s weird) ∬ Liv Tyler GENDERBENT FC/S: u think i got time for that

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1: if you could write your character your way in their own movie, what would it be called, what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about?

A1: hfskdghsdf I’d prolly end up calling it smth rly edgy and dumb like “Forbidden” or “The Blue Rose Girl” which doesn’t even sound edgy it just sounds dumb. black and white might be cool, or sort of a faded color? maybe it would go from black and white to color. it would be about the blue rose verse and the consequences they face bc of Lark’s actions and maybe Sparrow was better off staying dead? the folly of the heart type thing I’m tired can u tell

Q2: what would their soundtrack/score sound like?

A2: pls don’t do this to me rn I’M WORKING ON IT

Q3: why did you start writing this character?

A3: it all started w Sparrow. actually it all started with BJDs. I did a faceup and was like “cool who’s this” and thought Sparrow Weave was a cool name and literally started rping her with just a name and a face long story between that n this, but I decided Sparrow needed a sister bc of long story, and a lark was a bird and tempest was sort of the opposite of weave? why did they have to be opposite? Lark totally changed as a character tho originally she was super happy-go-lucky and bouncy and cheerful all the time but then I started to rp her and she was like “MOVE bitch get out the way”

Q4: what first attracted you to this character?

A4: ?? her name was Sparrow and she looked nice with dead flowers and I threw her into the fray. she grew to be beautiful and extremely damaged. Lark tho, I really liked how she kicked my ass and did her own thing

Q5: describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse.

A5: just cause I know all their flaws doesn’t mean I dont love them for it

Q6: what do you have in common with your muse?

A6: Sparrow and I are super squishy and people-pleasers and like books and art, and Lark and I get waaaaay over protective of people and have similar taste in puns, although I’m never confident enough to say any of mine

Q7: how does your muse feel about you?

A7: Sparrow would like me, I’d remind Lark of Sparrow until she found out I’m the cause of her suffering?? then I would cease to exist down to the last atom

Q8: what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with?

A8: this is going to sound horrible but I have this weird fascination with Sparrow in unhealthy relationships. she’s extremely manipulable but she’s also aware of that? so she might be onto you the whole time but why is she going along with it why does she have so much faith in you what are you going to do. LARK AND HER ENEMIES HALSKFHDKFSH

Q9: what gives you inspiration to write your muse?

A9: Lark writes herself, Sparrow’s more shy but I know her. if I see or think of anything that reminds me of her I remember everything she’s ever done and I fall in love again. I never lose muse just the ability/focus to make the words go

Q10: how long did this take you to complete?

A10: fuck ass long I stayed up way too lat workin on it, went back and edited/added more information to parts so it made more sense today, STILL WORKING ON THEIR PLAYLISTS but yeah this was fun!

#𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚 ∬ memes #𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 ∬ 𝓢 & 𝓛 #𝟐𝟎 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝟓 𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐚𝐠 ∬ 𝓛 (headcanons)#𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟 ∬ 𝓢 (headcanons)#((GOD THIS TOOK ME FOREVER BUT I LOVE IT))

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