malum-incessu

[malum-incessu]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 .    (  a collection of  action prompts.   feel free to reverse roles as desired. this prompt will be updated.  )

[ REDWOOD ] sender lashes out at receiver when it isn't their fault.

[ WILLOW ] sender embraces receiver in a moment of extreme distress.

[ PINE ] sender fervently resists receiver's attempts to comfort / care for them.

[ BIRCH ] sender finally ends a tense argument by reaching out to apologize.

[ POPLAR ] sender mentors receiver through learning a new skill.

[ PALM ] sender and receiver avoid / ignore the stresses of real life together.

[ ELM ] sender lends receiver aid in a time of urgent need.

[ MAGNOLIA ] sender, believed to be dead, arrives at receiver's door.

[ DOGWOOD ] sender gifts receiver a token of good luck / protection.

[ MULBERRY ] sender and receiver take a long walk through nature together.

[ HAZELNUT ] sender begrudgingly patches up receiver's wounds.

[ CAMPHOR ] sender suddenly pushes receiver out of danger's path.

[ CASHEW ] when they're finally alone, sender invites receiver to dance.

[ LAVENDER ] sender lays their head in receiver's lap and closes their eyes.

[ BEECH ] it comes to light that sender has betrayed receiver.

[ HIBISCUS ] sender invites receiver to go traveling with them.

[ HICKORY ] sender pushes receiver to admit that they need them.

[ MAPLE ] sender shakes receiver's shoulders, begging them to wake up.

[ CHERRY BLOSSOM ] sender revels in receiver's beauty, stunned.

[ JOSHUA ] sender offers receiver a safe place to hide / crash .

[ ASH ] sender and receiver become reacquainted after many years.

[ FIG ] sender, knowing receiver is hungry, pressures them to eat.

[ YEW ] sender beckons for receiver to join them in the water.

[ CYPRESS ] sender shamelessly flirts with receiver.

[ LINDEN ] sender cares for receiver, who took a hit to protect them.

[malum-incessu]

IF YOU ARE OKAY WITH ICONLESS ROLEPLAYS REBLOG THIS SO YOUR FOLLOWERS KNOW !!

like as much as i love icons and a good psd, sometimes its just tasking to do. and not everyone has great resources. so if you’re okay with having threads with no icons, please reblog this so that people know you’re okay with it. i feel like roleplayers today are too focused on the aesthetics and won’t follow people who use base icons or even none at all. it’s not about icons, but about the writing !!

[malum-incessu]

༘⋆｡ stirring the pot starters

a mix of arguments, tension, manipulation, gossiping, fighting, & general emotional messiness!

you  weren't  supposed  to  hear  that.

don't  look  at  me  like  i'm  the  only  one  lying.

want  to  tell  them,  or  should  i?

you  think  i  don't  know  what  you  did?

i've  hit  people  for  less.

oh,  i  thought  you  already  knew.

that's  funny,  you  didn't  say  that  last  night.

say  that  again.  i  dare  you.

you  wanna  talk  about  loyalty?

no  offense,  but  if  you're  the  last  to  know,  that's  on  you.

go  ahead  -  pretend  like  it  wasn't  your  idea!

they  deserve  to  know  the  truth.

you  didn't  hear  this  from  me,  but  -

oh,  so  now  you  care?

don't  flatter  yourself.  you  were  just  convenient.

you  crossed  a  line.

we  had  bets  on  how  long  it  would  last.

it's  not  even  a  secret  anymore.

you  don't  get  to  cry  about  it  now.

touch  me  again  and  see  what  happens.

say  it  again.  louder  this  time.

you  really  thought  nobody  would  find  out?

don't  act  so  innocent.

okay,  but  am  i  the  villain  for  laughing?

tell  me  who  else  knows.  right  now.

this  whole  time,  and  you  didn't  say  a  word?

don't  act  brave  now.

you're  really  gonna  do  this  here?

it  wasn't  supposed  to  get  this  far!

you  can't  rewrite  history.

oh,  i'd  never  say  it  to  their  faces.

it  was  supposed  to  stay  between  us.

we're  all  thinking  it,  i  just  said  it.

you're  not  as  untouchable  as  you  act.

do  you  even  feel  guilty?

they  warned  me  about  you.

go  ahead,  make  it  worse.

if  you  repeat  this,  i'll  deny  everything.

the  next  thing  out  of  your  mouth  better  be  an  apology.

you're  about  three  seconds  away  from  regretting  this.

you  keep  pushing,  and  i'll  push  you  back.

they're  going  to  find  out.

one  more  lie,  and  i  walk.

they're  lying  to  you.

you  need  to  back  off.  now.

you're  defending  them?  after  everything?

don't  try  to  hide  it.

tell  me,  was  i  just  a  placeholder?

you  really  think  sorry  fixes  this?

there's  nothing  left  to  say.

don't  act  like  you're  the  one  hurting.

i  don't  owe  you  any  explanation.

whatever  helps  you  sleep  at  night.

you  should've  seen  this  coming.

i  hope  it  was  worth  it.

i  told  the  truth.  just  not  all  of  it.

you'll  miss  me  before  i  miss  you.

smile.  you're  ruining  the  mood.

i'd  watch  that  tone  if  i  were  you.

it's  not  my  fault  you  believed  me.

you  have  such  a  talent  for  pretending  you're  innocent.

we  both  know  this  is  over.

i  never  said  i  was  a  good  person.

i  thought  you  were  different.

[malum-incessu]

"You aren't wrong—or, I suppose, incorrect." He chuckled at the terminology. "And I...thank you. I try to do right; help out where I can. I do what I can." Mubiru scratched the back of his neck.

"But...it doesn't always turn out well." Visions of vampires sank into his head, fangs and blood—too much blood. He blinked them away as subtly as he could, glancing back at her with a small shrug.

@malum-incessu sent: ❛  for once, i'm trying to do the right thing.  ❜ ( from mubiru, to anyone! )

"I get the feeling that's not entirely true. That qualifier, for once, I mean. You strike me as a selfless man, not one who does wrong, whatever that 'wrong' may be considered."

Hilda crossed her arms, and looked at him expectantly for some confirmation as to her guess.

"Besides, right and wrong are relative terms, aren't they?"

[malum-incessu]

vegas. both of our characters wake up married after a drunk night in vegas. ( dean & pat shenanigans pls )

Bleary eyes crack open at the way-too-bright morning sunlight streaming in through the window. Well. Maybe not so "morning"—the blinking red clock to his right reads a whopping 11:42pm. Squinting against the light, Patrick fumbles a heavy hand over the side of the bed, searching for his phone.

He doesn't find it. What he does find is a rumpled sheet of paper. It takes three or four passes for his eyes to finally focus on the black ink through his blurry vision and ringing headache—and then another five or six to actually process the information on it.

...what the actual fuck?

Dragging a hand roughly down his face, he props himself up on his elbows, glancing around the room. His gaze eventually lands on who he's searching for, and he leans over just enough to nudge the other man with his (still-on) boot. "Aye. Dean. Get up, y'bastard." Flipping over, one hand pressing to his forehead to subside the splitting pain, he uses the other to pass the paper over. "Or, ah—should I say...sweetheart?"

[malum-incessu]

The Impala tears off down the road, and Patrick risks a glance behind them, checking their backsides through the windshield. The house remains eerily still. Somehow, that makes him feel worse.

The nickname hooks on his ears and he scowls slightly, rolling his eyes. "Right, you haven't met." Gesturing to the angel next to him with the jerk of a thumb, "Rami, Dean Winchester. Dean, Ramiel. He's with me; part of the group." Rami gives Patrick a look, eyes widening—him? Patrick just nods wearily. Unfortunately.

Surprise mellowing, Rami offers a wave and a nod. "Pleased to finally meet you—wish it was under better circumstances. Or," he sighs, tone dropping a little, "more normal ones, at least." Pat nudges his shoulder in supportive silence.

"How the fuck did you know we were out here?" Patrick asks instead, brows furrowing. "Tell me you didn't just get lucky. I don't want to owe you shit," he groans, but there's a hint of humor buried among the sarcasm.

continued with @malum-incessu from here

Don't need to ask him twice.

Dean kicks gears back into drive and they're off, loose gravel flinging in their wake. He's a lead foot on the pedal until the house is a speck in the distance, the only sounds the engine roar and heavy breathing from the passenger and backseats.

"Say, Paddy," Dean's cheery, like this is a breezy Sunday cruise and not a last minute rescue mission from whatever the fuck was going on back there. He'll pester about that next. "Who's your plus one?"

[malum-incessu]

꧁ 𝖌. 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖙 ╱ independent, selective, mutually exclusive rp blog, featuring original muse GENEVIEVE BELMONT, a vampiress set in original vampire lore. written by ash / they them / 25+. read rules & about before following / interacting. themes of blood, vampirism, lost love, horror, and canon typical violence will be present & tagged.

[malum-incessu]

"You're right, they are," he shrugged. Squinting up at Ingvar, he scratched the side of his neck. "But I grew out of fairy tales a long time ago." For Patrick, it had been even quicker. Finding out that demons and horror movie villains were really significantly lowered your tolerance for fantasy bullshit. The more crazy things people created, the more possibility for those creatures to become real at all.

"You don't scare me anymore, Ingvar," he replied, shaking his head. Once you truly got to know the giant, it was almost impossible to be afraid of him. Gentle giant had never been more apt a phrase. So long as people didn't judge the book by its...massively huge cover, he would be alright. Of course...

"You can't stop the reactions people have, I get it. But in my book? You're good." Rubbing around his knee, he glanced back at the fire, poking some sticks back into place.

At the giant's confusion, a quiet laugh rumbled out of him. "Yeah, my marbles." He shook his head again. "Nah, it's an expression. I thought I was...going crazy, losing my mind. It ain't everyday you see something as big as you are." Pat shrugged a shoulder, giving him a half-grin. "Thought I was hallucinatin' or something."

It was strange. The topic of conversation was so ghastly and grim, and yet Patrick seemed bemused by it, very much so. It may have been unintentional upon Ingvar's part, but it did not go unnoticed; if Patrick could smile or laugh around him, then surely it meant he was comfortable around him, not so afraid as to be humorless. The last human in memory to have laughed at him was Hilda, and she was quite special to him indeed. Could she and Patrick meet some day, he wondered? Perhaps, the next time they crossed paths, he ought to attempt to make it so.

"Jack... ain't-- is not... real..." Ingvar repeated softly, in his own, very different accent and cadence of speech, and nodded slowly. Only a story, a tale, a fabrication. But the belief he may legitimately eat someone wasn't fiction, and that was precisely the trouble, he thought. He paused several pensive moments, pulling the fragmented idea into a statement. "But... human fears because of his tale... are... being real," he explained, hoping it was not rude to do so. "Hence, I... I was wanting to ensure that... they were not frightening you, too, of me."

Indeed, he seemed quite visibly relieved when Pat said he knew him not to be that sort of giant, as though the weight of the world were suddenly shoved off his shoulders, and back to Atlas, or whoever else was meant to hold it up instead. The broad shoulders relaxed, returning to the typical slight slump in which they were held when he was not scared stiff.

He didn't know what it was that Patrick believed he'd lost (nor did he know what it meant for him to have 'double points', but it sounded like a good thing); the phrase brought forth a puzzled frown. "O... were you... nearly leaving some-thing behind, upon that day?" he asked. Perhaps it was for the best that the human said he hadn't lost it, after all; Ingvar was uncertain he could recall the way to that place they had first met on that moonlit night.

[malum-incessu]

"Yyyyep! Yessir, I—I see it; I got you. Mm-hmm." He nods, focusing on the dirt trail. His eyes sweep the tent for a moment, sizing up the two different sides, but he doesn't say anything. He's already intruding. No need to make it worse.

Then his eyes catch on the hole, and he glances back at the older hunter, hand raising awkwardly like he's in math class. "Um—quick question. Short one, really; promise. Won't even ramble." Except he's doing it already. Crap. "Do you, um—d'ya have something to plug this with, maybe?" One finger taps the hole, sheepish grin looking up at Rufus. "Just, ah. Just wondering."

1.  GUEST :  for one muse to offer the other a place to stay.

( @malum-incessu | from chess, to anyone – your choice of who does what! )

@malum-incessu

"You see this line?" Rufus drags a dirt trek under his boot, outlining the divide in the shelter. Chess's designated sleeping spot is exponentially smaller, up against the cramped corner of the tent. The tarp lining has a hole in it. "You do not, under any circumstances, cross this line. You get me?"

Whether or not Chess gets him is irrelevant, because he keeps going. "Come fire, flood, hell ..Techiyat HaMetim? You stay on that side until I say otherwise. Don't even look at my things."

[malum-incessu]

She shook her head, biting back barbed retorts. She had to believe that destiny was what you made of it. She had to. Otherwise, Sariel had died for nothing, and she wouldn't have that.

His latter words caused her eyebrows to twist together, and she blinked a few times, scratching the side of her head. "How the hell do you figure that?" So she'd been spending too much time with Patrick recently: the words came off her tongue a bit thicker in accent, a bit gruffer in intonation. Dani bit the inside of her cheek, but didn't retract the statement.

@malum-incessu sent: "No one controls your destiny." (from dani, to anyone! )

Perhaps she believed so, as was her right. Ingvar, however, did not. He could not. All empirical evidence pointed to the contrary; how could others not control it, when it was ultimately their decision whether he lived or died, hid or took safe haven?

"Yours is not being, perhaps; and that is being good, very good," he began, "but... mine... is hardly mine own. I cannot be deciding it for my-self, unless I were wanting to be... being alone, and... never speaking to any-one again, and — and such is not what I am wanting."

[malum-incessu]

"Exactly," he replied, entirely too proud of himself.

Puffing his chest slightly in dramatics, he paused for a minute before laughing. "Nah, I'm not that cool. I just sit and mess around on the laptop all day." Offering her a shrug, Chess grinned. "But—hey, it could be worse. At least I know how to do things tech people would think are cool. I could just be a total dork."

"people that are cool don't really need to play cool."

( @malum-incessu | from chess! )

Jane's lips quirked. "I-I guess," she said with a shy smile. She hummed. "Y-Yeah, a lot of the--the cool people I-I know don't, um, seem to r-realize how cool t-they are." Her voice became gently teasing. "L-Like you."

---

FAMILY IS FOUND

[malum-incessu]

(very slowly) working through drafts tonight! been hard at work on my massive general multimuse account all weekend, trying to get that up and running. i've been trying for months but who knows—maybe this is the month i finally get it running!

anywhoodle, while i wade through these drafts, feel free to hit me up in ims or in the askbox if you'd like! trying to get over my dm anxiety LMAO! (mutuals if you'd like my discord, just ask! o7)

[malum-incessu]

✦ FAMILY IS FOUND ↣ various  sentence  starters from malibu rising (book). writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst! feel free to edit as you see fit.

letting people love you and care for you is part of how you love and care for them.

you’re a whole lot of nothing.

i’m sick of cleaning it and having you come in and mess it up again.

look at this, motherfucker! good as fucking new!

family is found... whether it be blood or circumstance or choice, what binds us does not matter.

there’s no room for you in my life anymore.

i know i shouldn’t be here.

it’s easy to be gracious when you’re winning. so you have no excuse not to be.

there should be a way to undo your fuckups.

i’ll always love you.

i think the problem is that your love doesn’t mean very much.

i don't think what you're born into says anything about where you're headed.

people that are cool don't really need to play cool.

maybe our parents' lives are imprinted within us, maybe the only fate there is is the temptation of reliving their mistakes.

everything we've even done is by our own hands.

you must be capable of everything.

but a good life is knowing people care about you, knowing you can take care of the people that count on you.

you have done nothing despite how capable you probably could have been if you gave half a shit.

too much self-sufficiency was sort of mean to the people who love you. you rob them of how good it feels to give, of their sense of value.

our parents live inside us, whether they stick around or not... 

our heritage lingers in our blood.

that is the thing about the water, it is not yours to control.

it requires destiny to be on your side.

they were in love, the kind of love that hurts.

why take a chance on another book when i already know i like this one?

i’ve been really sad.

i meant so little to someone who had made me believe i meant so much.

it was inevitable, wasn’t it?

assholes protect their own.

paradise doesn’t exist.

you were born a piece of shit and you’ll die a piece of shit just like every other piece of shit on this planet!

if i exist on this earth, someone loves you.

the good thing about getting dumped by a dickhead is that you don’t have to deal with the dickhead anymore.

but because you weren’t here, we learned how to go on without you.

i’m just really sick and tired of people thinking they can treat me like i don’t have a heart.

i’m not your maid.

thank you. for the person you’ve been your entire life. and all that you’ve done.

for what it’s worth, i hate myself.

sometimes wild circumstances help fate unfold.

at the end of the day, that’s what everything came down to: money.

fate trips up sometimes. 

what a gift it was to know so clearly what you were not, who you did not want to be.

[malum-incessu]

❝  yeah of course i’m only into women,  have you seen them?  ❞ (Hilda for whoever you think would be fun!)

Chess's cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and he ducked his head, laughing the whole while. "Well, that's—you're not wrong there, actually, that's—that's very understandable. I like the way you think." He grinned, looking back up at her and playfully waggling his eyebrows. "I'm with you there." Really, Chess only currently had eyes for one woman. But he could still appreciate beauty when he saw it! Hopelessly pining on an unrequited crush didn't mean he was blind, of course.

[malum-incessu]

tell me that isn't what had your knickers in a knot. / from valerie kirke, to whomever you have muse for! ❤️

"It most certainly was," Pat responded, indignant, but laughter bubbling underneath. He gestured with his glass, shrugging before taking a sip. "It was the end of my rope, aye? Look, it ain't like I'm proud of it, but sometimes a missing jacket is just the last straw."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Besides, then I found Chess in the other room; knocked out cold, using the jacket as a blanket." An eyebrow cocks, shoulder curving upwards. "...couldn't be mad at him after that. Wasn't his fault the heater broke overnight." A grin touched his lips as he took another sip, beer sliding smoothly from the glass. "Had to head out later that day and fix it. Then—and only then—did I get the jacket back."

[malum-incessu]

He glances up at the giant's squeak of surprise, unable to hold back the faint grin it elicits. "Aye, so the story goes." He shakes his head. "Of course you haven't. Because, first of all, you wouldn't do such a thing," not a trace of sarcasm in his tone—was that even possible before now?—just pure honesty, "and second, you've never met Jack." A wry grin twists on his lips as he shoots Ingvar a look. "That's just a joke. Jack ain't real."

"Well, I was tempted." It's only a half-joke. He shrugs. "But quite frankly, I think the wraith did you some favors, in my eyes. No way you could possibly seem scary when that piece of shit was around." He grins again, stretching his legs in front of him. "And then you smashed it, so. Double points."

"Besides," he adds, giving another shrug, "I didn't think giants were real. So for a good minute there, I just figured I'd finally lost it." It hadn't been the craziest thing he had ever seen, not by a long shot—but it was certainly the most surprising. "Glad to see I didn't."

It should not have been possible for a being of such size, strength, and depth of voice to squeak. This, however, was what Ingvar did; there was no other way to describe it.

"Grind his bones, and— make... bread?!" Ingvar gasped, and shook his head. It wasn't only children spooked by it; he was horrified at the very thought, the terrifying mental image conjured of a wicked giant harming a human so. It was true that Jack stole from him, but that didn't mean he could threaten him so!

"Fairytale — is it being this fairytale — is this... why it is that humans are believing I shall be doing such horrible things as eating them?" he asked. Unlike to Pat, to Ingvar there was nothing humorous about it. No; it seemed the sort of story to cause horrible nightmares in those with so much as an inkling of imagination. "For it is being most strange, and... unusual, and... and I knew not, until you have been telling me of this—of Jack and his bean-stalk and cruel castle giant—from whence such scary idea was coming. I... I have never been doing something which could be implying such horrible deeds."

He shook his head again.

"By the Goddess — it is being wonder you were not running away screaming at very sight of me, when... when first meeting."

To Ingvar, it was, of course, only another notch on the human's belt of bravery—bravery and good deeds.

[malum-incessu]

Patrick rolls his eyes slightly at the show of bravado, though the wisecrack manages to get a huffed chuckle out of him. "Do me a favor, yeah?" he responds gruffly, checking the nearby bushes—just to make sure nothing else was lurking, trying to hit them while they were already down. "Next time?" He glances back to Valerie, a faint grin stretching across his face. "Just don't get mauled."

Seemingly satisfied with his survey of the perimeter, he slings the blade he still carries over one shoulder, moving back over to Valerie. Offering a hand to help her up, his brows furrow as he scans over her. "You alright? Is that the only wound?" He nods towards the path out of the forest, back to the clearing, where he left his car parked. All things willing, it's still there. "I've got some stuff in a kit back at the car, if you can make it back there."

"you're lucky you got away with only a scratch."

( @malum-incessu | from patrick, to anyone! )

shame cut deeper than valerie's wound. messing up a hunt is always humbling— but crawling away from it with flesh torn to ribbons, now that's humiliating. she nestles atop a pile of dead leaves, carefully inspecting the extent of her injury.

thin crimson streaks run down the length of her arm, like melted wax falling down the sides of a candle. hunger writhes in the depths of her stomach, excited by a metallic tinge wafting through the forest, the scent of her own blood. it wasn't bad, it just wasn't ideal.

valerie just hoped that patrick wouldn't suspect anything. that he might look past the rumble of her stomach, and the subtle tremors shaking her from the inside out. mortal hunters and valerie tend to have a hot and cold relationship; some consider the value of keeping her alive to continue hunting other vampires, while others find the condition of valerie's vampirism too unstable to allow her to live.

"lucky me," she huffs with the awareness the worst had already healed. she'd survive, that's all that matters, and it's as valerie shifts upon the forest ground that she finally regards patrick, eyes shadowed with exhaustion and thick strands of platinum.

"you should've seen the other guy," she lies casually, grandeur to mask a bruised ego. "i'll do a better job of getting mauled next time."