#the mystery is solved ah-ha

[kobandan]

What… what did they do to the barroths..? 😰

Since you're not the only one who asked, here's the answer about that question hehehe. As for what it looks like when they were trying to put their plan in action...

Even Barroths are confused about it lmao.

[fluorescent-if]

| DEMO 10/30/24 | RO INTROS |

| pinterest |

Welcome back to Misty Cove!

Your hometown that holds all of your best memories from childhood. Days where you spent all of your time with friends, exploring and playing. The most notable thing about both you and your hometown however, is what started happening in your teenage years. After you and your friends uncovered a mystery about the local movie theater, you starting finding more odd occurrences across the county, and well, it's not like anybody else was going to solve them.

You and your friends because a team of detectives. Most your teenage years and early twenties were spent solving odd crimes across the country. You were all best friends.

That was until four years ago when...

Well, you're not sure you can remember anymore.

It doesn't matter right now. Welcome back.

'Return to Misty Cove' is a horror/mystery Interactive Fiction game that is inspired by Scooby-Doo, Hellboy, and the works of H.P. Lovecraft. This work will be rated 17+ for gore, violence, swearing, death, body horror, and possession that might not be suitable for everyone.

Customize your MC's appearance (gender, height, body type, ect.) develop their personality and become the linchpin of your mystery solving team.

Find out more and possibly solve the mystery that has been haunting your hometown.

Rekindle, or destroy old friendships (and maybe develop romances) with your former team, and meet others along the way.

Have an animal companion! (dog or cat)

RO's & Other Major Characters

Cameron "Cam" Morris (M/F) [RO]- Tech-savvy and mechanically minded, Cam is currently working as a mechanic after you and your group broke up, they are currently going to grad school for mechanical engineering, and still sends postcards and pictures to you. They are likely the sweetest person you have ever met, even if sometimes they are too kind to people who don't deserve it. Out of the four of you, Cam was always the one who needed to do what was right, no matter the cost to their self.

Ollie Cohen-Reyes (NB) [RO]- Ollie has always been interested in macabre and strange, spending hours researching in the library any and every topic they were interested in. They get along with very few people, but once they are able to get close with others it becomes easier, and they become sarcastic and witty, and feel less uncomfortable talking about their interests freely. They work as an adjunct professor in forensic anthropology.

Rose/Rory Thompson(M/F) [RO]- They are a loyal person, first and foremost. When the group broke up they somewhat lost their purpose, but they ended up settling and working as a bartender in Misty Cove. Having taken boxing and self-defense classes from a young age due to their paranoid parents, R was always the best when it came to physical confrontation with the cases you investigated, even if outside of this they never seemed like someone who had that much power. They have become far more aggressive and assertive than the person you knew as a child, now having the attitude to match their technical know-how.

Terra Clarke (F) [RO]- You originally knew her by a different name, but she started transitioning early on life, and Terra is the only name you can remember now. Normally when you say it it's followed by an eye roll. Terra was never someone you got along with when you lived in Misty Cove. She was always very antagonistic towards you and your friends, but a lot has changed since the last time you saw her. She now owns her Grandpa's diner, and tries to take good care of the people of the town, especially since the mayor won't do much. She is always exhausted now, but is very happy to see a familiar face, even if your history is muddied because of both of your actions.

Randall 'Randy' Clarke - Terra's grandfather and former owner of "Randy's Diner" always very kind to you and your friends, even if you all never got along with Terra.

Ana Lloyd - (pronounced AH-na) current mayor and overall very unprepared for her job.

Mrs. Candace Talbot- Your former English teacher from high school, you never got along with her that well.

Dorothy Giles- Your co-worker, likely the only one in your office who cares about her job.

(most things are subject to change throughout the games development)

[good-chimes]

Proposing:

Grand Unified Scarian Theory

a single, overarching Scarian romance arc across the whole Hermitcraft and Life series as well as a primer for anyone curious about the early seasons.

We start with NEIGHBOR MEET CUTE in early Season 6:

Season 6 begins in a peaceful pirate bay. SCAR, an established hermit just beginning his third season, is happily making pirate caves. Into this tranquil scene comes GRIAN.

Grian, fresh-faced and new to Hermitcraft, picks a sea-themed base location right next to Scar’s pirate caves. He gets himself set up and starts his base. Even someone like Grian can get newcomer nerves, and he spends the first few weeks desperately trying to act like a normal person instead of the horrible gremlin he really is.

(Some hermits are taken in by this. Doc and Xisuma give him pity diamonds, something that—after getting to know Grian—they noticeably never do again.)

The only person exempt from Grian’s just-a-little-birthday-boy act is Mumbo, whom Grian already knows, clearly has a puppy-crush on, and pursues relentlessly.

Grian and Scar don’t interact much at first. Grian sees Scar for the first time while passing by his base. Scar instantly falls in one of his own caves and dies.

Grian panics.

Grian: I DIDN’T DO IT!

Scar, intrigued by his new neighbor, makes some overtures of interest:

1. Scar leaves a fully enchanted trident at Grian’s base as a welcome present. This is a generous gift for the cute neighbor you have a crush on and frankly the most normal thing either of them do in the entire years-long relationship.

Grian goes ‘huh!’ at the trident, never finds out who sent it, and immediately forgets the whole thing.

2. Scar entertains Grian’s traveling-salesman pitch and buys his overpriced armor boxes.

Multiple jokes about the size of Scar’s wallet. Grian clearly pleased by the transaction.

3. Scar makes Grian a complementary in-joke build (Spongebob’s house by Squidward’s house).

This delights Grian immeasurably for five minutes until he turns back to his prank war with Mumbo.

(Poor Mumbo. Clearly immensely fond of Grian but not sure he wants to be in a relationship with a lit stick of dynamite. This is very understandable.)

By this point Scar obviously kind of clocks that Grian is insane about Mumbo. This isn’t much of a leap. The entire SERVER is aware that Grian is horribly in love with Mumbo.

Ah. That’s okay. Scar backs off a bit. He recognizes when he’s not really in with a chance.

Maybe this thing he has with Grian is just going to be a friendship, and that’s okay! Having a crush is fun even if you’re not going to do anything about it. Scar is going to build some shops about it and be normal.

Both of them are going to be very normal.

FLIRTING (First Stages) – mid-Season 6

Both of them immediately forget to be normal.

Grian has started a detective agency and has no mysteries to solve. Scar instantly invents a cookie-based mystery supervillain called the Jangler and leaves Grian a series of tantalizing cookie-based puzzles for enrichment in his enclosure.

Grian has invented a game where you kill people with rockets. Scar volunteers to get murdered. Both of them are delighted.

Scar and Cub’s business empire is incidentally crushing Grian’s startup venture. There is no reason for this to be so flirtatiously charged.

At this point all the hermits move to a new village because of the Minecraft update. Grian starts a who-can-build-the-tallest-house war with Mumbo and Iskall. Scar notices and starts doing the same from the other side of the village.

It quickly gets so wild that Mumbo taps out (Mumbo does not do well with intensity, would rather just not, thankyouverymuch), and it's only Grian, Iskall and Scar.

Scar builds a wild giant plant eating his rocketship, and then a castle in the sky, and an enormous version of himself firing a canon at Grian's house. This is the first time you can really see Grian trying to hold in shrieks when he flies back in to see what Scar has done while he's gone.

Grian’s interest has been caught. He’s gone from barely seeing Scar to checking on him regularly. What’s our good friend Scar up to? What’s Scar done? What is Scar going to do next?

FLIRTING (How To Catch Your Crush’s Interest By Building A Secret Government Facility) – late Season 6

What Scar does next is put on a snazzy military uniform, team up with Doc to steal the time machine Grian invented last week, then, in the most effort someone has EVER gone to to get Grian's attention, spend weeks on end building a fully-functional 'Area 77' military base and containment facility to stop him getting it back.

Turns out this works beyond Scar’s wildest dreams.

Grian INSTANTLY obsessed with breaking into Scar’s base and retrieving his time machine.

Grian persuades Ren into forming a hippie camp with him next to the base and spends weeks entirely fixated on Scar. Meanwhile Scar, who is starting to really understand how to get and keep Grian's attention, builds more and fancier infrastructure to keep Grian out. This is also where Grian really starts looking at Scar's art—the insane cliffs Scar has build around his new hangers—and awkwardly not quite managing words, because it would be very embarrassing to just outright say the word beautiful, and Grian’s a very normal and non-embarrassing person.

In the climax of the season, Grian-the-hippie breaks into General Scar’s base.

Nobody can say that Scar making himself a top brass general and Grian making himself an anti-establishment flower power hippie does not end up with plausibly-deniable not-making-out Grian-provoking-Scar-into-holding-him-against-a-wall.

but.

BUT.

This is Hermitcraft. It’s temporary. Scar and Grian both know it was a bit. A bit they both got super into, sure! But a bit. Not weird at all.

(“Sure, mate, not weird at all,” Mumbo says, after all of this is over. “Then why are you making it SOUND weird Mumbo you’re the WORST”)*

(“Sooo....” Cub says, and Scar says, “I know. I know!”)*

*not canon but you can't tell me it didn't happen off screen

FLIRTING (But What About…) – early Season 7

Okay, so that was weird, but Grian is definitely still in love with Mumbo. The Mumbo pursuit is going great and Mumbo definitely doesn’t look nervous whenever Grian turns up with a new idea. Grian is going to get Mumbo to fall in love with him and they will marry in the spring and have a dozen beautiful children redstone contraptions.

Grian attempts to make it more official with Mumbo. Surely they have been flirting long enough, they are ready for the next stage! This is in no way a reaction to Scar becoming a weird wizard in a way very unsettling to Grian and building the kind of wild organic tangled forest build that Grian is fascinated by but can't even begin to comprehend.

Everything is very under control in Grian's life. He's now official boyfriends with Mumbo. They live together and have a messaging system and everything.

Mumbo announces he’s moving out.

It’s-not-you-it’s-me

You’re… you’re moving out? Grian says, in the smallest possible voice.

We’ll still have the messaging system, Mumbo says, unconvincingly.

FINE, Grian says, I’m moving out TOO.

Mumbo moves out.

Grian deals with this in the healthiest possible way. He invents a mayorship and attempts to give it to Mumbo.

Grian is Mumbo’s self-appointed campaign manager so Mumbo has to be round him ALL THE TIME, it’s for the CAMPAIGN, Mumbo.

Mumbo, a man who doesn’t deal well with pressure or responsibility, is maybe not the ideal choice for mayor, something that has escaped Grian entirely.

Mumbo builds a robot and attempts to palm off all responsibility for decision-making onto it. Grian immediately calls it their son.

Grian puts his moustache all over the server.

NO other hermits support them for mayor (except Scar, from a lost bet, who Grian has continued to have intensely weird flirtations with while all this is happening)

Things reach a fever pitch. Election day arrives. Mumbo doesn’t want this actually but try telling Grian that. The entire MumboGrian edifice that Grian has obsessively and wildly build has reached an unsustainable pitch and finally comes tumbling down around them.

Mumbo votes Scar for mayor.

Grian votes Scar for mayor.

Mumbo disappears for several weeks to do some nice soothing redstone and calm down.

FLIRTING (Civil War) – late Season 7

Everything has calmed down now. Scar is mayor. Mumbo is...somewhere. Grian is going to work on his base normally.

Grian has a new project. He wants to build in the new nether biomes. He builds a huge and echoing and obsessively inverse version of his huge and echoing and obsessively symmetrical mansion base. It's very impressive. It's totally hollow. There's... no one else here.

Grian decides that okay, he is going to bring PEOPLE here.

He invites Mumbo, because he hasn't seen him in weeks. He invites Bdubs, because Grian above all loves genius. And he invites Scar. Because of course. Everything major Grian does now, Scar is an of course.

Bdubs shows up! Generously builds Grian's entire mansion interior. Mumbo shows up. Builds a tiny upside down disco shack.

Scar does not show up.

Scar is being mayor! Scar is a very busy and important man! Scar has spent the last few weeks obsessively replacing every single goddamn mycelium block in the shopping district with beautifully tailored grass and making trees whose flowers are diamonds. He's also got his own megabase going on. For once Scar has so much to do it's even enough for Scar's ambitions, which have never been small.

He does not come when Grian calls.

Grian is Not Happy.

This is the point where Grian starts a steadily more unhinged campaign of leaving Scar invitations. He makes little tailor's dummies of himself and delivers them to Scar's house. He sets up a tea party of three grians in a secret space under Scar's mayoral throne. He hangs himself in effigy on the tip of Scar's megadrill build. Normal behavior.

And then when Scar still doesn't notice, he puts a tiny bit of mycelium back on one of the streets of the shopping district.

This starts… THE MYCELIUM WARS

Scar attempts to contain the growing mycelium patch with warning tape.

Grian spreads more mushroom spores.

Scar brings in his allies to help contain the growing mushroom patches.

Grian digs out an underground rebel HQ, recruits several rebels, and declares himself Motherspore.

Mayor Scar stares into a camera and uses his most velvety baritone to proclaim he will hunt down Grian and the mycelium resistance and bring them to justice.

Grian sets loose mushroom-spreading sheep.

Mayor Scar obsessively searches for his base.

Grian and Impulse build several decoy bases and trap them.

Mayor Scar employs Mumbo to strip-mine every block of the shopping district with redstone tunnel-borers.

Eventually Deputy Mayor Bdubs, having his own thing with rebel Etho, tricks all of the resistance into ender-pearling into jail.

Scar gets to threaten to pour lava on an imprisoned Grian for ten minutes straight and they’re both enjoying this so much.

Grian: Scar! SCAR! Scar Scar Scar no Scar no Scar no listen Scar

Scar: Yes?

Grian: …Let’s take this somewhere else.

They ‘take this’ to Scar’s beautifully-appointed mayoral office. Grian sits on the arm of his chair (I don’t know what to tell you, this is on-screen canon).

Grian: So I know how to end the war.

Grian: We have to play minigames and make personal bets.

Grian: And Scar, Scar, if you lose…

Scar: Yes?

Grian: … you have to help build my base.

Entire room: [stunned silence]

Etho: Is this what it was about the whole time, Grian?

So! That happened. And the thing is, they could both mentally pass off the area 77 general/hippie stuff as Just A Fun Bit That Got Very Intense.

They can't do this with the mayor/motherspore stuff. They are basically making out on Scar’s chair. The resistance have noticed. The mayoral staff have noticed. EVERYONE has noticed.

Scar is into it. Scar is going along with it. Scar knows he’d had a crush for a long time, and he isn't scared of swimming with a huge wave, never mind where it's going to break. Scar has always embraced the rush. With Grian, you never know what’s going to happen next.

Grian has always loved being around Scar because there’s so much going on that you don’t have to think. Grian doesn’t have to think until everything’s calmed down. It's not until now that he stops and realizes… could this be… something.

(Maybe it already is.)

And then, by whatever eldritch mechanic you personally favor:

3rd life begins.

HEAD-OVER-HEELS – Third Life

In the tiny claustrophobic stripped-bare world of Third Life, Grian makes a choice. Grian thinks, for once very, very clearly: what if it wasn't a bit? What if it was real. What if Grian took every explosive piece of who he was and handed it over to someone he's—okay, he'll admit it—someone he's been obsessed with for a long time. What if that heady sparkle he's been seeing in the corner of his vision is true. What happens if you grab it with both hands?

Scar—surprised, bemused, amazed but wrong-footed—almost doesn't know what to DO with this.

Scar is so used to Grian layering all his obsession behind a thick layer of irony and drama and second-guessing and schemes. ‘Sure we can make out but only if I'm trailing mushroom spores and you're wearing that sash.’ ‘I'm only here because Mumbo's not around.’ ‘It’s not a thing.’ ‘It's not real.’

But it is real.

And, for once, Scar hears a tiny alarm go off in his brain. Scar knows Grian better than anyone else does, by now, and even he doesn't know where this ends. Grian is a force of nature and Scar has never been his unfiltered target. But Grian's throwing himself into this, throwing himself at Scar. And Scar always says 'yes.' 'Yes, and.' 'Yes, let's'. Scar never wants less of Grian. Scar has always taken what he can get.

But with that warning bell, Scar does try to keep that slight layer of dramatic distance, even in this new world where you can die and not come back, even if they don't know if they'll get out of this alive. Scar doesn't fully buy into Grian's second-in-command-devotion, he forces a space for Grian to still be the Grian he knows, some kind of safety vent (‘here's a bee on a lead’). And it could be a lot of reasons, but part of it is…Grian's head-over-heels, for once, and Scar has the unfamiliar feeling of needing to be the one to look where they're going.

Because where they're going is: the last two, all their friends dead, not knowing if there's any way to survive but knowing their friends haven't come back, and at that point Scar takes off the very last of his brakes and the very last of his reservations and says:

For everything you've done for me you can kill me.

(I want this. I want it to be you.)

This breaks Grian absolutely and completely.

And not broken in the fun way! Grian is too far in. Grian let go of Mumbo, who was safe because Mumbo never let it get too far, and he took a risk on Scar, and now Grian is discovering that he didn’t even know what risk meant. Grian is in emotional pain he never suspected existed. Grian has let himself put all his gambling chips on someone who wasn't SAFE and he has lost.

Grian has LOST SCAR and he has LOST HIMSELF and he has FOUND OUT HE CAN BE HURT and he is never going to be the fucking same again.

Scar is in the pond with Grian’s sword at his unresisting neck. And Scar is going to die, and Scar (damn him damn him) has turned it into: he's going to die for Grian. Now Grian is hurting, he's complicit, it turns out grief is an inevitable part of love and beauty, this is all it's taken for Grian's worldview to fall apart in pieces he can't pick up, and Grian has no defenses against pain so there's obviously no way to cope except to beat Scar to death in a cactus ring and jump off a cliff.

AFTERMATH – Season 8

They wake up in Hermitcraft.

They wake up in Hermitcraft! Scar is delighted to find out they just reincarnate, after all that!

Sure, they've all got some lingering trauma but Scar has never let that stop him from doing anything. Scar thought that whole thing went well! He just about dares to think...romantic...? Maybe...?

Grian is Normal to him.

Grian is so fucking normal. it's like. s6 normal.

Scar is. kind of. confused.

Grian is NOT acting like someone he had a romantic death match with.

(Grian is falling apart, but if there's one thing Grian has proved in his building it’s that he’s SO. fucking. good. at facades.)

(Don't go round the back.)

Neither of them are ready for the death game to repeat.

DIVORCE (Traumatic) – Last Life, Season 8

Second death game. Grian deals with his trauma super well by isolating Scar, stealing all his friends, tricking a life out of him, dropping his horse in lava, forcing him into an extortion death loop, then abandoning him and—just as a bonus—murdering Mumbo as well.

This time it’s Scar who comes back falling apart.

A theory that seems plausible: Scar’s old friend Cub picks him up, puts him back together, gets him on his feet. What we do know is that Cub moves in next to Boatem, where Scar is still living with Grian, and incidentally builds an enormous dripstone megabiome that is coincidentally very hostile and might murder you upon landing if you're someone who flies a lot, or happens to be a bird.

There’s a hole with an endless dark void between Scar and Grian’s Boatem bases. They built it together. It’s around this time they both keep repeatedly falling in it.

DIVORCE (But When It Was Good It Was So Good) – Season 8, Double Life

Then the moon gets big. Gets close. Gravity breaks down and that should be the end, should be a way out of this terrible spiral they're in, surely they're better without each other—

Grian turns up at Scar's base and says: Scar. Build us an escape pod.

—and Scar does.

They go out together. Both of them can feel the pull back into each other’s orbit but they’ll die if they acknowledge it. At the end of it all, the void, the protective suits, the unbearable gravity of falling into space together, of holding each other until another uncertain end. They're nowhere but they're in it together.

Is this a good time for another death game? Of course. How much worse can it get.

Double Life, and this time Scar keeps his distance. My soulmate is this allay! My soulmate is my cat! I don’t need a soulmate. Oh—it’s Grian? This whole time? Hahaha. How funny.

Grian: Soo… do you want to base together?

Scar: Do we have to?

Grian: It…might be nice…?

Scar is wary.

He has been burned.

But the pull is still there. The pull is always there. You can’t forget Grian, but you can blunt the edge of him on your skin. Scar is here to take care of these cat-pandas. Grian can do what he likes.

Cheated of Scar’s full attention, Grian tries to tempt BigB into a pale imitation of the Scarian folie à deux (BigB is a genuinely nice man who does not deserve this).

The rest of the server turn red, one by one. Grian and Scar are the last greens. BigB is audibly nervous when Grian proposes a red-green alliance, even though BigB is the red, he has the power. But Grian can’t escape the rest of the server, and the red hunt begins.

Grian and Scar, hunted—trapped at the top of flaming towers, jumping from heights, chased down like foxes at bay, crammed into boltholes with their hands over each other’s mouths, Grian shrieks and laughs and falls back on Scar and Scar catches him and they’re both as alive and elated as they’ve ever been. Scar dies once to Ren and BigB’s zombies and Grian murders both BigB and Ren in revenge (BigB was right to be nervous). Grian has another unhinged murder plan underway when he dies for the last time.

This whole time, Grian was hit in the face by remembering that when it's good, it's so good.

Scar isn’t surprised. Scar has known that forever.

Back in Hermitcraft, its not magically fixed. They’re not innocent any more. But every time Grian looks at Scar he remembers: when it’s good, it’s so good.

And Scar never forgot.

DIVORCE (We’re In Love And We’re Not Done Yet) – Season 9, Limited Life

By now we're into Season 9. They’re still alive. They always live, they always start again, and the other one is just there. Being, infuriatingly and magnetically, them.

Grian is thoroughly annoyed by Scar’s new allegiance to King Ren, but he keeps coming back to Scarland anyway. Scar, I made you an obstacle course. Scar, stand here and get squashed by this anvil. Scar if you don’t do something I’m going to start a resistance.

Grian pretends King Ren doesn’t exist and he has more important things to do, and pretends this so hard that he incidentally invents a mad science robot pulls them all through into the Empires dimension.

Scar, assuming Grian is doing his own thing, shacks up with Jimmy.

It takes Grian three weeks to notice and be shriekingly outraged.

Scar we’re doing a project. Scar you can’t spend all your time with Jimmy! Join my cult. Get in my shrinking machine. I made you an enchanted netherite bow. I need your allegiance. (Another real quote).

Scar teases Grian for weeks then instantly abandons Jimmy when the choice comes down to him or Grian.

Fourth death game—they’re used to this, now. Nothing too intense. Nothing too weird. Grian can’t help murdering Scar.

At this point, Scar is starting to read it as: I love you.

And that’s how we get to the current Scarian dynamic we know and love of you're the worst and I'm the worst and we've divorced a few time but we still like each other so fucking much.

It's been years. They've killed each other every possible way. These two characters are in love and they're not done yet.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant at This Morning show with Alison Hammond and Dermot O’Leary talking about Good Omens Season 2, 11.07.2023 :) ❤

DO: And David joins us now. I mean, this looks like a great show.

David: Oh, yeah.

DO: So, I mean, It's pure Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, isn't it?

David: It is, yeah.

DO: The whole thing. So tell us, so if people haven't seen the first series and they want to go back, set the whole scene.

David: So I'm Hell's representative on Earth, Michael Sheen is Heaven's representative on Earth, put there to do the biding of our respective Head Offices. But we found out that if we became mates and sort of helped each other out, it kind of cut out the workload, cancelled each other out. So we're best mates. But in Series One we end up having to avert the apocalypse, which we managed to do, but as a result of that, we get cut off. So we're now living on Earth as independent individuals.

AH: So do you still need each other, then?

David: We still need each other. We've only got each other now because we don't have Heaven and Hell anymore.

DO: Because you both love earth so much, you both like.

David: Oh, we much prefer living on Earth because Heaven's a bit stuffy and Hell's awful.

DO: So you conspire to thwart the Armageddon. Exactly.

David: We thwart the Armageddon. That's fine. But Series Two begins when the angel Gabriel, Jon Hamm, who you just saw there, shows up at Aziraphale, Michael Sheen's bookshop, naked with no memory, holding a cardboard box. So suddenly we're locked into the politics of Heaven and Hell again. We don't know what's going on. We've got a mystery to solve. Why is the angel Gabriel here? The angel Gabriel tried to kill us both at the end of the last series, so we've got to...

DO: But now he's kind of got amnesia and...

David: Yes. So he becomes like our weird child, in this sort of weird sort of eternal marriage that Michael and I are locked in.

DO: So many shows now use a book as their base and then they do really well and you can see the company and the writers go, better come up some new ideas, I suppose. So the book's obviously Terry Pratchett and then Neil Gaiman, correct?

David: That's right. They wrote that together years and years and years ago. Much beloved. And that's what the first series was. But Neil and Terry had always talked about possibilities of this sequel that they never got around to making. Terry's no longer with us. But when the possibility came up, Neil thought, well, listen, I've got some ideas. Let's spin it forward. Let's see if we can tell the story we were always going to tell. So we get to come back.

AH: Should we have a little sneak look at the new series? Let's have a look. So good. Did you ever think it was going to be this successful? Did you even know that you were going to go into a second series

David: Oh, no, not at all. No. There was only one novel, so we just thought we were coming together to do that. And I didn't realise how beloved this book was. I first read a script. But it means a lot to a lot of people.

AH: And the look of you is so striking. Did you have any input into that? A bit, yeah, we sort of all found it together, myself and makeup and costume and Neil Gaiman, who ran the show. So, yeah, we kind of arrived... in the book he's a bit more - because obviously the book was sort of early ninetues, so he was a bit more sharp-suited and a bit more Wolf of Wall Street. So we've kind of had to find the kind of modern equivalent of that.

DO: Is he... obviously you're playing a demon. Has he got any humanity in him or is he purely self-centered?

David: Well, he's not a very good demon. He's good at sort of the snarl and the swagger and pretending that he's terribly cynical, but actually his problem is that he's a bit too...  there’s a bit too much heart, really.

DO: He's alright

David: Yeah, yeah.

DO: Must be wonderful playing a baddie.

David: Oh, it's great fun, but he's not a baddie, is not really a baddie.

DO: Yeah, yeah.

David: And just like Aziraphale angel is not always as goody goody as he likes it, so they meet very beautifully in the middle.

DO: You and Michael Sheen. I mean, you've worked together a fair bit, don't you. I loved Staged. That was such fun.

David: Yeah!

AH: Have you ever not worked together?

David: Now we only work together.

AH: All the time.

David: Yeah. I mean, He's not sitting on this sofa, but he is backstage. We can't be apart.

DO: He's speaking in his ear right now.

David: Exactly, yeah.

AH: But you are... you have got a genuine friendship. You're growing old together gracefully.

David: We're growing old together?!

AH: You look good for it, I'm not going to lie. What's the secret, babe?

David: A lot of makeup. It's very thick.

AH: We've got to talk about the fact that you are returning to Doctor Who.

David: Ah, yes.

AH: I can't believe this. And can you tell us anything at all?

David: I mean, beyond that I'm doing it? I think...

AH: No.

David: Really. Because that's the fun of it, isn't it? Hopefully tt was a bit of a surprise when I showed up. When Jodie Whittaker regenerated into me.

AH: We were shocked.

David: It was a bit of a surprise, so we wanted to sort of keep some shocks, but Catherine Tate's back, so it's a bit like 15 years never happened, to be honest.

DO: Know about it for a while. Like... did Russell T get in touch and say...

David: Yeah, it sort of gradually kind of evolved as an idea and we thought maybe they'd let us do a one off for old time's sake. And then suddenly it became a bit more than that and we were back for a bit of a run.

AH: So how many episodes did you get to do?

David: We did three.

AH: Wow. That's incredible. What's it like to be back? Did he just slot straight back in?

David: I mean, sort of. It felt weirdly familiar. Yeah. And you think, 'Oh, will I still able to run as fast? Can I still kind of...?' But it was like we'd never been away. It was joyous. Yeah.

DO: And could we talk about your son? Because is your son in Good Omens with you?

David: Ty's in... has a part in Episode Two of Good Omens.

AH: Is he?

DO: And I loved him in House of the Dragon.

David: I know. He's very good. He's very good.

DO: What a relief.

David: There he is. I know, what a relief. Exactly. No, I mean...

AH: Imagine if he was bad.

David: Imagine if he was rubbish. How would we tell him? Sit down, listen...I know it's sort of the family business, but maybe joinery? So... no, he's really good. And he's annoyingly good looking. You know, he's just got it all. So it's lovely and great to get to work together. Brilliant.

[janearts]

Roisia Lydgate: Character Overview

This is really more of a background introduction to her character, but I'm trying to put as much information in one place for future reference or for anyone who wants to get a better idea of her character. Details underneath the cut!

Meta-Knowledge

Roisia is my Source Hunter from Divinity: Original Sin, but I recreated her in Baldur’s Gate 3 as a way to continue her story albeit in a completely different universe. The story and events of DOS have since become part of her backstory, and tweaked to fit the world of Faerûn.

Name Pronunciation

I’m honestly none too fussed about pronunciation. Her name is an 11th century mediaeval name that would later become “Rose” in Middle English. Roisia is probably meant to be pronounced something like /ɹɔɪːsiːɑ/ (Roy-see-ah) based on other name variants found around the same time. Her nicknames, as given to her by her parents, include: Rose, Rosie, petal, pet, rosebud, bud, so on and so forth.

Personality

Roisia is charming, adventurous, with a voracious curiosity, and a deeply analytical mind. She believes that taking care of the dead and providing a voice for the dead is her life’s calling. She was formerly raised to be a Cleric of Kelemvor, but believes that her god has disowned her since she reanimated her father. She now believes herself to be deemed among the Faithless. She’s compassionate to those in need and is willing to break rules (and the law) to help others. While she is generally a law-abiding citizen, she is dogged in pursuing the whims of her curiosity and will likewise do whatever it takes to solve a puzzle, a mystery, or a murder… or simply answer a question that has occurred to her. She is sociable, prefers when everyone gets along, and will try to talk her way into and out of most situations. This includes charming, reasoning, intimidating, and/or deceiving others to get her desired outcome. Ultimately, she finds solace and comfort in the company of animals, the dead, and books. Her favourite animal is the noble spider, and she breeds and raises some species in her spare time.

Spells and Such

I tried as best I could to replicate Roisia’s DOS character. In DOS, she was classed as a Witch. Witchcraft spells in DOS are a mixture of Necromancy spells and Enchantment spells, and I chose my spells in BG3 to imitate the ones that you get in DOS. As a witch in DOS, Roisia also had the ability to talk to animals and summon a spider. (I cheesed this in BG3 with the Find Familiar spell—technically a Conjuration spell—and having her drink a potion after every long rest.) To be more in keeping with her backstory, I gave her a Guild Artisan background and invested skill points in skills like Medicine.

Backstory

Roisia grew up in Eastway of Baldur’s Gate. Her father worked in the Gray Harbor shipyard as a shipwright and her mother was a Mortarch, running the Eastway Cemetery & Lydgate Funeral Service. She was raised to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a Cleric of Kelemvor, and specifically as a Mortarch, from an early age. She assisted her mother in managing the burial customs and rites for the Lower City’s diverse community (from embalming to ritualistic cannibalism to poisonings), comforting grieving family members of the deceased, and tending to the dead buried in the cemetery.

Her life took an unexpected turn when her father drowned during a sea trial. Grieving for her father, Roisia made her first attempt at Necromancy. She unwittingly used a wish spell in the process and reanimated him as a skeleton. Because it was the wish spell, not her first attempt at a necromantic ritual, that bound the soul of her father to his bones, Roisia is determined to master the School of Necromancy and truly resurrect her father.

She is interrupted in her early studies by the appearance of Eustace, who recruited her into the Source Hunters, an organisation dedicated to eradicating dangerous magic users (like… Necromancers). “We need you,” he said. “… and you need us.” Roisia & Eustace (or Roy & Stacey as they became known to each other) investigated the mysterious murder of a town counsellor and uncovered a Necromantic cult in the process. As they adventured together, Roisia began to develop feelings for Eustace, but as their adventure concluded and they returned to the Source Hunter Academy, Eustace did not return those feelings. Dejected, Roisia left the Source Hunters and returned to her home in Baldur’s Gate.

To “cure” herself of her heartbreak, Roisia drew up a list of lifelong goals for herself. They are:

1. A cemetery or plot of land of her own to oversee. 2. “Tenants”/”Residents” (aka The Deceased) to house and tend to on this land. 3. To master Necromancy such that she can extend indefinitely her own life and the lives of her loved ones. 4. One (1) Spouse (*not of the squeamish variety) 5. Children (*ideally 3-5)

Refocused aggressively on her list, Roisia returned to her duties during the day and her studies during the night. She was abducted by the nautiloid one night while she was off to dig up a new test subject.

Playlist

[obeymematches]

Cheer up MC!

You were disappointed. You almost failed your ancient spell exam and you were disappointed as hell. Of course your day is now ruined.

Lucifer:

• Although he understands how you feel and thinks you need to feel the disappointment you feel now to be better in the future (what a dick), he can’t let you hang your nose the entire day, can he?

• He does the classic thing; takes a piece of stick-it note and writes on it.

• As he is sure you are in your room, he knocks on your door and slides the note under it.

• You sigh as you get up from your bed.

• „Thinking of you. Take all the time you need, I’ll be waiting for you in the garden.”

• There he waits for you under the garden lights with a table and only two chairs. He prepared some fine wine for you.

• You spend the evening talking and expressing your feelings of disappointment.

• He is quick to reassure you; ask him to help you next time, or even better, he can give you a private lesson or two, so your success is guaranteed next time.

Mammon:

• AH. Can’t have you be sad for 1 minute!!!!

• Doesn’t know why you are sad, doesn’t even care, he only cares about cheering you up ASAP.

• His best bet is making you go out!

• However you don’t really feel like dancing or drinking tonight.

• Well anyway he must disappear now!

• When he comes back he has chocolate, balloons, some crisps with him! He even got you a flower!

• No it is not too much he is on a mission here!

• You smile a lot and maybe even tear up a bit depends on how you handle these kind of stuff-

• He is more than ready to cuddle you by the way!!!

Leviathan:

• Okay so do you know that game you always play together but you are friggin stuck??

• Well he does ALMOST beat the boss but he absolutely needs your support now!!! What is his worth without his partner-

• If getting past that part doesn’t interest you now he would just cuddle and put on your comfort anime for you! Perfect time for a marathon afterall!

• It always works for him so maybe you’ll feel better too!

Satan:

• Of course you must be blue right now, he know exactly how much you prepared as he was right there with you the whole time.

• But if you don’t cheer up soon he might threaten the teacher to give you another chance to write this test-

• He is there to do whatever you want, he might even do the stuff he always turns down.

• If you don’t feel like doing anything then it must be more serious than he thought originally.

• So he decides to write you a love letter, that could probably work, right? (If you are already in a relationship!)

• He tells you all the reasons he loves you and how much he appreciates everything you do and how YOU make his days better than ANY book ever could!

• If you are not dating he’d make you solve some kind of mystery, he came up with the idea in about 10 minutes.... but it does make you think and forget what made you upset in the first place.

Asmodeus:

If you are sad he is sad! That is the rule!

Comforts you with cuddles but doesn't let you stay melancholic for more than half an hour.

He would start putting on some nice music, maybe you'll get to go out tonight and forget about it all!

If you decide to go out he makes sure you'll be the centre of attention at the party; you get all your favourite drinks, the DJ only plays songs you like, you end up having a good time out!

However if you don't feel like dancing he'd make you a romantic bath with candle light, lots of foam and rose petals! It's what you deserve babe! It's what you deserve!

Beelzebub:

• Oh damn the last thing he wants is to see you sad and mad at yourself.

• The test didn’t go too well for him either so he really gets you-

• He offers you to join him on a bike ride through town!

• It makes you move and makes you feel much better right away.

• On the way of course you must stop and eat dinner somewhere.

Belphegor:

• Honestly if you want to relax and chill he is your best bet!

• Ready to take a nap and maybe you’ll feel better after!

• But he also doesn’t mind cuddling until you feel loved.

• He is caressing your hair, your back, your face

• Can tell you all the sweet nothings in the world, doesn’t mind talking a lot if his voice calms you!

[even-disco-baby]

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hello again, gendarme.” He smiles at you— not from his usual post, but from one of the cafeteria tables. A small sketchbook is laid out in front of him, along with some odd gray sticks.

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Compressed graphite. Not quite as bold or blendable as charcoal, but certainly less messy.

EMPATHY — Garte will appreciate it.

“I’d like to talk about the case again.”

“You moved! I didn’t know you could do that.”

“What are you drawing?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “That’s the question, isn’t it?” His smile turns a little rueful. “I found one of my old sketchbooks and thought I’d like to fill the last few empty pages, but I’m finding myself a little… uninspired.”

CONCEPTUALIZATION — The accursed artist’s block. Staring down an empty page only for it to stare back, mocking you.

EMPATHY — He is unsure of himself. He said this was an old sketchbook. Maybe he’s afraid of drawing something new beside his old work and seeing that nothing has changed.

“Ah, yes. Artist’s block. I know it well. In fact, I don’t know when the last time that I actually *made* any art was.”

“You could draw the cafeteria.”

“You could draw one of the other diners.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “A life drawing exercise, huh? And who would you pick as a subject, gendarme?”

“I don’t know. You’re the artist.”

“Maybe Garte? The skua could be a fun challenge.”

“You should draw the guy with the wig and sunglasses over there. He looks pretty funny.”

“Lena! She’d probably love to model for you. It would take her mind off things.”

“Kim, how about you pose for him?”

[Suggestion - Medium 10] “Why not me?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “No.”

He has nothing more to say on the matter.

“Aw, why not? You’d make a great model!”

Let it go.

KIM KITSURAGI — “I do not get paid to model for portraits. I get paid to solve murders. Such as the one we came here to investigate. Several days ago. Which has not been solved yet, for some mysterious reason.”

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — In case you couldn’t tell, that was sarcasm.

“Come on, Kim. You’re the perfect subject! A true man of the people. And there’s this sort of radiance about you… I can see the portrait already, just looking at you. Really clearly, actually.”

Maybe don’t say that. He’s just not gonna get it.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He shrugs. “Sorry, gendarme. It’s not right to use someone’s image without permission, you know? Maybe some other time.”

KIM KITSURAGI — “No.” And then, a little awkwardly, “But thank you.”

“I don’t know. You’re the artist.”

“How about Garte? Though, you’d have to draw the skua, too…”

“You should draw the guy with the wig and sunglasses over there. He looks pretty funny.”

“Lena! She’d probably love to model for you. It would take her mind off things.”

“Kim, how about you pose for him?”

[Suggestion - Medium 10] “Why not me?”

CHECK SUCCESS

YOU — “Why not me?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He considers you with some amusement, but still, he does consider. “You’re not too busy?”

“On second thought, you’re right, I have some work to do right now. Another time, maybe?”

“Nope. Not at all.”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant sighs audibly.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — What did I *just* say?

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles to himself, apparently quite tickled by the little comedy act you two are making of yourselves. “Beautiful. Why not? Have a seat. I’ll try not to keep you too long.”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Much appreciated,” he says drily.

YOU — [Take a seat.]

SAVOIR FAIRE — Time to strike a pose. Let’s go with something cool. Something that really captures what you’re all about.

ENDURANCE — But make sure it’s something that you’ll be able to hold comfortably.

Wink and shoot him your signature finger guns.

Look at him with big sad eyes like a shamed puppy.

Look thoughtfully into the middle distance, as if contemplating your own future masterpiece.

Stare straight at him with eyes that have seen how this world will end.

Hold your head up high. With *honor.*

Just sit and act natural. No need to put on airs.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He looks you up and down, thumbing his bottom lip. His eyes look brighter and more alert than you have ever seen them. And then, he picks up his graphite and begins to work.

His eyes dart between you and the page, his hand sweeping across the page in bold, practiced strokes. All traces of his earlier hesitation have vanished.

VOLITION — Sometimes, a little push is all we need.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — Every now and then, he pauses to look up at you, and it’s almost unnerving to be the subject of whatever calculations are going on behind his eyes. He holds out his graphite, squinting just slightly.

VISUAL CALCULUS — This is called sighting. He’s roughly measuring the relative proportions of your figure and checking them against his sketch.

KIM KITSURAGI — Even the lieutenant is watching now, interested in spite of himself.

“Are portraits your specialty?”

“Have you been drawing anything for school lately?”

Better not distract him.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hmm…” He ponders this for a moment, not looking up from his work. “Not exactly. I’m more interested in the graphic arts than this sort of thing. But it’s best to build a strong foundation before branching out, you know?”

YOU — “Graphic arts? Like what?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Printmaking.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he speaks, seemingly without him even noticing. “Monotype, especially.”

ENCYCLOPEDIA — Monotype is a printmaking technique that is singular from other techniques, in that it produces only *one* unique print, rather than an edition of multiple prints.

YOU — What, really? What’s the point of printing it, then?

ENCYCLOPEDIA — I don’t know. I didn’t invent it.

“Why monotype? Wouldn’t a different technique be more… practical?”

“I see.” [Drop the subject.]

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He shrugs slightly, smudging a bit of graphite with a bare finger. “Depends on how you define practical, I suppose. If I had my own studio, and I was selling my prints, then maybe. But we make do with what we have, gendarme.”

EMPATHY — And what he has is very little.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Besides, I think monotype has its charms.”

The young man does not elaborate, instead focusing on the work at hand. He picks up an eraser that has been shaved down to a point for fine detail work, and begins on what are likely the finishing touches.

EMPATHY — He has already talked at uncharacteristic length about this. It’s making him a little uncomfortable.

SAVOIR FAIRE — He doesn’t like to share too much about himself because it makes him feel *uncool.* He prefers to maintain an air of mystery.

RHETORIC — It’s safer, too, that way. He’s learned that passion exists to be exploited. False promises and admiration are the offerings of Sunday friends.

“If you say so.” [Back off.]

“What kind of charms?” [Press on.]

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyes flit back to you, sizing you up now in a different way. And then he looks back down at the page with a quiet bre ath.

“Well, it doesn’t take as much time or labor as other methods. Or expensive tools, or dangerous chemicals. Just paper, a plate, ink, and something to apply it with. And I can use the same plate over and over again, even use it to create different layers for the same print.”

RHETORIC — In other words, it’s cheap and can be done from home. An attractive option.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “And with monotype, it’s not so hard to go back and change your mind. You can start over as many times as you’d like, right up until the moment you lay the page on the plate.”

INLAND EMPIRE — That really does sound attractive. To be able to wipe the slate clean, over and over again…

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “There aren’t as many limits on what kind of textures you can create, too. Brushstrokes and fingerprints… They can really come out beautiful.”

His brow creases a little, and he picks his graphite back up to rework a particular area.

DRAMA — He’s still holding out on you, sire. Too self-conscious to admit what he really likes about the medium.

YOU — Which is what?

EMPATHY — Fragility.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — An image which is only complete after being mirrored and translated, never to be recreated except as a ghostly afterimage. An exercise in surrendering to chance. What will be, will be. And then the moment will pass, and it will be time to start the next piece.

VOLITION — This man knows disappointment intimately. It is his closest companion. He has learned to make peace with it. He passes the time with his Sunday friends, lays his paper on the plate and hopes, despite himself, for the best.

YOU — Is that… a good thing?

VOLITION — …It’s hard to say. But we make do with what we have.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “There.” The young man sits up straight, and it’s only now that you realize just how close he brought himself to his work.

DRAMA — His face may not betray him, but the body does not lie. He was having *fun,* my liege.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “All done.” He tears the page from his book and holds it out to you with a small smile.

ITEM GAINED: Portrait of a Disco Holdover

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hope I didn’t keep you too long.”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Don’t worry about it,” Kim says, rather resignedly.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — If you’d declined, the lieutenant thinks, my partner would have just found some other way to get sidetracked.

KIM KITSURAGI — Still, he cannot stop himself from glancing at the portrait over your shoulder.

PORTRAIT OF A DISCO HOLDOVER — It’s you! Unfortunately. Not even the most masterful hand could make the Expression less unsettling to look at. Your posture is poor, your face is swollen and blotchy, your hair is thinning, your clothes are shabby and out of place… I could go on.

Oh god, you could?

Please don’t.

PORTRAIT OF A DISCO HOLDOVER — But, you know… it’s nice. The smoker’s technique is bold and rather lovely, broad strokes of graphite intersecting in just the right places to create surprising depths. Somehow, even though it’s you… it’s not hideous.

EMPATHY — Because you’re seeing yourself through another person’s eyes.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — There is an odd tenderness to the portrait. Something amusing in your grimace, a touch of sympathy in your hunched shoulders. With the eraser, he has lifted small spots of pigment from your face, as if it were illuminated by flecks of light from the karaoke disco ball.

There are no disco lights tonight, but still, he sees them when he looks at you. Your moment has passed, but it left quite the impression. A ghost print, superimposed over you.

“Not bad, but the bicep girth is off. Right, Kim?”

“Oh god, is that really what I look like?”

“Hmm. It’s okay, but you should consider a backup career plan.”

“Whoa, you’re amazing! Can you draw me again, but this time in the costume from the cover of Man from Hjelmdall and the Devil Woman? And like, with a really cool warhammer? And Queen Lydiaana standing in the background, all like, ‘boohoo, where will I ever find another man like Ha— I mean, the Man from Hjelmdall?’”

“Beautiful.”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His smile climbs up into the corners of his eyes, warming his entire countenance.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — If you were to capture a portrait of him in this moment, it would be beautiful, too.

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆WISH GRANTED CH: 1

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS In which, you, a workaholic grade A detective has been investigating about multiple murder cases, found out that your boyfriend has been seeing your best friend behind your back. And due to your anger, you accidentally wished for your ex boyfriend and ex best friend to die—and they did end up dying. her boyfriend and best friend was found dead and brutally killed. and the person who did it was the same serial killer she was looking for, and no matter what her wish is, he ends up granting it in the most twisted way possible

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS Infidelity, Death, Yandere Behaviors (duh) Other triggering stuff.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆NOTE Hearts and Reblogs are greatly appreciated<3.

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

TAKING OUT A PICTURE of someone who was reported missing from your briefcase, you smoothly placed it on the table. With a quick movement, you grabbed a red marker from your briefcase and decisively drew a bold ‘x’ across the person’s face.

“Another missing person that got killed,” 

 You let out a weary sigh as your eyes remained focused on Jhenicca, your closest confidant and fellow detective.   Both of you were dedicated to solving crimes together, forming an inseparable partnership in the field.   However, it was important to note that you held a higher rank and possessed more experience in comparison to your junior colleague, Jhenicca.

Jhenicca’s brows creased as her emerald green eyes bore into your [E/c] ones.

 “Seriously? Another one?”

Jhenicca let out a deep, anguished groan expressing her displeasure at the fact that an increasing number of individuals were disappearing, only to be discovered lifeless later on.

“Yeah, seriously.” You uttered those words, your face devoid of any emotion.

“Ah, well, it doesn't really matter anyway.”  Jhenicca uttered in a low voice, her eyes wandering aimlessly, diverting her attention from yours.

“Just give the damn information, [N/n]” Jhenicca asked for the necessary information and specifics during your conversation. You set the red marker down, signaling the start of a conversation that was about to take a somber turn.  

“The victim was named Katarina Smith. She vanished four days ago after entering a forrest. Her lifeless body was discovered in an abandoned building inside the forrest,"

You revealed the information.   As an exceptional and highly skilled investigator, you were entrusted with leading the inquiry into the mysterious disappearances, wherein the victims were consistently discovered with horrifying injuries or their vital organs, such as the kidneys, inexplicably gone.  This disturbing pattern of events has persisted over the course of the last four months, leaving you feeling increasingly weary and overwhelmed due to the sheer volume of cases being assigned to you.  

“We can go to the crime scene later and look for some evidence.”

You suggested and jhenicca nodded solemnly.

“So what do we know about the previous victims?” Jhenicca questioned you as her brows knitted, obviously disturbed.

You reached into your briefcase once again and pulled out a file containing the information you had gathered so far.

“There have been fifteen victims before Katarina,”

You began, flipping through the pages. “All of them went missing under similar circumstances—last seen entering a forrest, and then found dead on different sides of the Forrest.”

“Fifteen.”

Jhenicca breathed out and slammed her fist on your table, creating a loud banging sound and you sighed in exasperation, placing your hand on your forehead as your brows creased and your jaw locked.

“I know, i know.”

You mumbled, exasperated.

“Fifteen fucking people have been going missing for about 4 months now and we still can’t fucking get a single trace or clue about the perpetrator!”

Jhennica’s  seethed with anger, clearly expressing her deep disappointment regarding the sluggishness of your progress.   However, it is hard to deny her feelings, as you yourself are also disappointed with the current situation.  

“Calm down.”

You tried to calm her down.

“What do you mean calm down?”

Jhenicca glared at you, running a hand through her blond locks.

“[Name]! We can’t go around relaxing when people are going missing and dying!”

Jhenicca exclaimed, causing you to feel increasingly frustrated.   However, despite your annoyance, you made an effort to maintain your composure. Deep down, you acknowledged that Jhenicca had a valid point. It wasn’t as if you were idly lounging around; in reality, you had been pushing yourself to the limit, tirelessly working nonstop in order to achieve any sort of progress—And you were tired, so fucking tired.

Feeling overwhelmed and frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh, massaging your temples with your fingertips to alleviate the mounting tension.

“I know, i know” You spoke incoherently and indistinctly, barely making any audible sounds.  “However, it is essential for you to regain composure initially, for it will enable us to thoroughly evaluate the circumstances at hand and make an accurate assessment."”

With a slightly narrowed gaze and furrowed brows, you expressed to her, causing Jhenicca to let out an exasperated huff and divert her gaze from you.

“Calm down my ass,”

She mumbles.

You experienced a sudden involuntary contraction in your eye, causing it to twitch.

“Cease behaving in such an immature and obstinate manner, don’t be a fucking brat”  Feeling exasperated by her obnoxious behavior, you let out a disapproving sound while your level of professionalism momentarily dissipates. Jhenicca, in response, disdainfully looks away, disregarding your reaction.

“Fuck you.”

She glared at you.

“Fuck you too.”

Jhenicca releases a sarcastic laugh, displaying her annoyance towards the unexpected and abrupt eruption of emotions from you.

“Okay, whatever, but we still need to find any pattern or connection between these victims,”

Jhenicca made a suggestion, her voice hinting at a lingering annoyance. In response, you scornfully chuckled, casting your gaze downwards.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you took in a deep breath before quietly uttering a small apology for your earlier outburst.

However, Jhenicca breezed past your apology, choosing to disregard it completely as she proceeded with her speech.

“Do you think it could provide us with valuable clues regarding the murderer's identity?   Is there anything notable connecting all of the victims that you've observed?” she asked.

Once you regained a sense of inner tranquility, you visibly expressed your agreement by giving a reassuring nod. Resting your hand gently upon your chin, you directed your gaze towards Jhenicca, deep in thought.

“The victims share several similarities among themselves.   Firstly, they all belong to the young adult age group, specifically individuals in their twenties. Secondly, they had a common habit of visiting and spending time in the same forest.   Lastly, their disappearances occurred exclusively during the weekends, further emphasizing this pattern of occurrence.” You provided a clear explanation.

“Based on the autopsy reports, it seems that their kidneys were removed post-mortem, suggesting a potential organ trafficking angle. However, the brutality of the killings indicates a possibly cannibalistic tendencies as well.”

You have provided an explanation regarding the reason behind those individuals having their organs removed. It is feasible to consider the possibility of a cannibal being involved, particularly since you had previously delved into the topic through various cannibal documentaries during your college years.  

“We need to gather more evidence and dig deeper into the victims' backgrounds.”

You said, tapping on your chin.

“We need to find any connections they might have had, both among themselves and with potential suspects. We’ll also increase surveillance on houses that are close in that forrest, for they frequented in the hope of catching any suspicious activities.”

You informed and you were taken aback when, out of nowhere, the entrance to your workspace abruptly swung ajar, unveiling the presence of your beloved partner, Earl.

Earl is also a skilled investigator who happens to be employed within the same institution as you. He had a pile of papers held in one hand while balancing some cups of refreshing iced coffee in his other hand.

“Good morning, Love”he greeted with a pleasant tone, his words carrying warmth and friendliness.   With a gleeful expression, he curved his lips upward, directing his gaze towards Jhenicca with the intention of acknowledging her presence as he nodded approvingly.

“Good morning to you too!”Jhenicca extended a warm welcome.   You let out a frustrated breath and directed your gaze towards Earl.

“Kindly knock on the door to gain permission before stepping inside the room.” Shaking your head in dismay, you expressed your disapproval through scolding, while Earl nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, revealing his indifference.  

“* apologize for the interruption, but I have something of utmost significance to share,” your partner apologized politely, presenting you with a substantial collection of documents and carefully arranging them on the surface of your desk.

“Really?”  Jhenicca’s eyelids fluttered momentarily, as a reflexive response to stimuli.   

“What is the matter?”

You inquired, fixating your gaze directly into the deep, mahogany irises of Earl.

“There has been an increase in the number of individuals who have disappeared, and upon closer examination, it is evident that the specifics align with the characteristics observed in the previous instances.”

 As your eyes briefly skimmed across the pile of documents placed right in front of you, a complex blend of unease and exasperation manifested on your face.

The news you were presently receiving was far from ideal, pushing against your desire for a different outcome, particularly since you and your diligent team had invested an immense amount of time and effort into probing the perplexing string of disappearances that had preceded this moment.   Jhenicca, noticing the identical emotional response on her own countenance, mirrored your sentiments precisely upon digesting the given information.

“Anyways, i brought some coffee for you, love,”  As you observed, Earl gently placed the refreshing iced coffee onto your desk, and a sense of appreciation washed over you, causing a grateful smile to adorn your face while simultaneously feeling a soothing wave of relaxation engulfing your being.

“Thanks love—”

You initiated speaking, however, Jhenicca interjected, causing you to immediately cease speaking and keeping your lips sealed.

“No coffee for me? I’m feeling left out you know?”   Jhenicca’s eyebrow arched in amusement as she voiced her playful disappointment regarding the lack of coffee being offered to her. As you observed the situation, a flicker of surprise crossed your face, signaling that you were starting to grasp the peculiarly close bond between Jhenicca and your boyfriend. A peculiar sense of discomfort started to take hold of you, yet you struggled to identify the exact source of this unease. 

‘Since where were they this close?’

You pondered quietly as you watched the two interact.

Earl couldn’t help but chuckle in response to Jhenicca’s witty remark, as he placed yet another refreshing iced coffee on the desk, hoping to soothe her slight disappointment expressed through her adorable pouting expression.

With a wide smile, he uttered,

“Here, don’t sulk.” Jhenicca beamed with happiness as she conveyed her appreciation. Earl emitted a light-hearted laughter, brushing off the situation, which left you with an indescribable sense of being left out, lingering persistently within you.   Earl comfortably took his place on the nearby chair, gently resting his head on your shoulder as he curiously asked,

“Anyway, love, Can you provide an update on the current status of the situation?   Have there been any advancements in identifying and apprehending the person responsible for the incident?”

He asked and as you were preparing to articulate a response, Jhenicca abruptly interjected once more, causing a subtle expression of displeasure to form on your face.   It became increasingly apparent that since Earl’s arrival, Jhenicca had consistently been interrupting your attempts to contribute to the conversation.  

“Welllll”

Jhenicca said, making sure to stretch the word.

“Nope!”

Jhenicca’s wide grin appeared on her face, attempting to portray an endearing demeanor that caused you to cringe internally; she resembled someone who was seeking attention—a fucking pick me.

It would have been more appropriate for her to exhibit a serious demeanor, considering the gravity of the topic at hand.   It perplexed you how she could switch from being angered to acting as cheerful as a ray of sunshine. The sudden shift in her behavior left you contemplating whether to request her to remain silent and allow you to express yourself, but you opted to restrain from doing so.  

“Unfortunately, we’ve been giving it our all, but we haven’t found any leads,”

You finally explained with a sigh and Earl frowned once he heard that information, he felt disappointed.

You then took a deep breath.

“However, I do have a theory. It’s possible that the serial killer is also a cannibal.”

Earl blinked in disbelief, but he considered the idea.

“Really? That’s quite an unexpected twist.”

Before you could elaborate and explain all the details about your theory, jhenicca interjected once more so you just chose to remain silent, a tinge of annoyance crossed your expression but it quickly disappeared.

“I agree! I’ve been thinking the same thing.”

Jhenicca said.

“Ah right! Do you know that there are similarities between the victims?”

Jhenicca began to converse with your boyfriend and as you sipped on your refreshing iced coffee, Earl glanced in your direction, expressing his acknowledgement through a subtle nod.  Soon after, the two individuals initiated a conversation which took a meandering path, encompassing diverse topics.

However, a significant portion of their discussion revolved around the various homicide cases you had been diligently investigating.  As you attentively observed Jhenicca and Earl engrossed in their dialogue, it became apparent that a strong connection existed between them.   Unexpectedly, the serenity of the moment was abruptly disturbed by the sound of your phone ringing, breaking the tranquility in the air.    Jhenicca’s eyes blinked, briefly closing and opening again.  

“I thought you had your phone on do not disturb?”Jhenicca inquired, and you shook your head.

“Not quite. As a detective, every call or text holds significance, you should be aware of that,” you responded, slightly exasperated. Setting your coffee aside, you retrieved your phone from your pocket, and your eyes widened as you read the message. your eyes suddenly lit up and a faint smile made its way to your face.

Finally, an evidence, after four fucking months, there was finally an evidence.

“Ouch, so harsh.”

Jhenicca's expression turned into a pout at your stern words.

Your eye twitched in annoyance, caused by the tone she adopted. Normally, she spoke to you in a different manner, but this time it was almost childlike, which bothered you without any clear explanation as to why she was behaving that way.  

Earl curiously asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s the headquarters. They’ve discovered some evidence at the crime scene,” you informed, and Earl hummed thoughtfully.

“That’s wonderful.”

Earl said with a smile.

“Really? That’s an excellent news!” Jhenicca beamed

“Yes, I’m glad too”

You replied with a closed eyed smile

Then suddenly, a  phone call interrupted,you looked at your phone to see who called and it was the headquarters, perhaps they had something important to say and you couldn’t risk missing it.

 “The headquarters is on the line,” you  announced.

“Oh.”

Earl seemed disappointed since he wanted to talk to you more while jhenicca didn't have a reaction.

“I need to have a private conversation with them, so I’ll leave you two here,” you informed, gently shifting Earl’s head from your shoulder before standing up.

You planted a tender kiss on Earl's cheek, eliciting a smile from him.

“I won’t take long, don’t worry.”

You reassured him because you saw his disappointed face and Earl’s face lit up from your words.

“Alright, Stay safe,” Earl said, returning your smile as you made your way towards the office exit.

However, from the corner of your eye, you caught Earl discreetly wiping off the kiss, causing a frown to form on your face. And the way Jhenicca glanced at your boyfriend was different, stirring a sense of unease within you.

Your intuition was telling you that something was wrong.

Tension pervaded the atmosphere within your office, akin to an unuttered secret that lingered ever since your departure to answer the call from the headquarters. Earl’s face carried the weight of guilt, mirroring the guilty conscience that resided within him, while Jhenicca appeared unbothered, portraying an effortless and carefree demeanor that juxtaposed the tension.

It was astonishing to earl that he and jhenicca had embarked on this path. The hidden relationship between him and Jhenicca had been going on clandestinely for a significant period of nine months. Initially, it had been a mere coincidence, encounter in a bar where their paths crossed unexpectedly.   However, as fate would have it, the influence of alcohol led them to hook up that night. From that moment, their connection deepened, and it evolved into an ongoing affair, causing Earl to experience overwhelming guilt for cheating on you.

“We are truly betraying [Name] by engaging in secret meetings,” Earl whispered, causing Jhenicca to recline comfortably in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk without a care, even if it meant potentially crushing important documents beneath her soles. 

  With a piercing gaze, she interrogated, “Between the two of us—Me and [Name], whom do you love more?   Me or her?" 

  Feeling his throat tighten, Earl mustered the courage to respond, “You.”

  Jhenicca let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration apparent as she exclaimed, 

“Then what’s the big deal? We love each other, don’t we? Don’t worry, [Name] will never find out.”

...

...

...

...

As their conversation fell upon your ears, tears began to well up in your eyes, their meaning hitting you with full force.   Suddenly, everything started to make sense.   Their closeness, the way Jhenicca gazed at Earl with adoration, it was all clear now.   They had been hiding their secret involvement from you, deceiving you right under your nose.   The pain that came rushing over you was nearly unbearable, as the person you once loved and cherished had betrayed you with none other than your best friend. The mere thought of Jhenicca turning out to be a backstabber had never even crossed your mind.   Clenching your fists tightly, you fought against the overwhelming urge to burst into the room, confront them both, and scream at them.

In that moment, your heart seemed to shatter into innumerable fragments, completely consumed by an uncontrollable whirlwind of emotions—anger, sadness, and most of all, a profound feeling of betrayal.

As you clutched your chest, your face contorted with pain, the weight of their conversation pierced your heart like a sharp knife.   Earlier, you had received a brief call from headquarters, urgently instructing you to gather important documents and return to your office.   Obediently, you started making your way back, determined to fulfill your responsibilities. However, fate had different plans for you that day.   Along the corridor, their familiar voices reached your ears, luring you in with an irresistible curiosity.  Against your better judgment, you couldn’t resist the urge to eavesdrop on their conversation. 

  Little did you know, the words exchanged between them would shatter your heart into countless irreparable shards.

The shock and disbelief hit you like a ton of brick.  Anger immediately surged within you, a fiery mix of self-blame for not recognizing the signs sooner and directed towards those who had so callously betrayed you.   It was all becoming too much to bear. 

  Overwhelmed with a whirlwind of emotions, tears welled up in your eyes and streamed down your cheeks uncontrollably.  The pain you felt was indescribable, as if your entire world had come crashing down in an instant.   Without a second thought, you hastily abandoned the familiar surroundings of the police station, leaving your colleagues behind.   Although they called out to you with genuine concern, their voices only seemed like distant echoes in your ears. 

  Racing through the chaos of your own thoughts and emotions, you let instinct guide your trembling steps. The city streets blurred into a haze as you hurriedly made your way through the crowd.   Every footfall was a desperate attempt to escape the anguish that threatened to consume you entirely.   People glanced in your direction, their curious gazes fleeting, yet you were oblivious to their existence.   All that mattered at that moment was finding solace. 

  Filled with a potent blend of frustration and exasperation, you hastily made your way towards the vast expanse of the parking lot, an irrefutable reflection of your inner turmoil.   As your trembling hands grasped tightly onto the cold metal of your car keys, a surge of determination propelled you to forcefully insert the key into the lock, unleashing a resounding ‘click.’

Seeking solace within the confined space, you were driven to hastily enter your vehicle, forcefully slamming the door shut with an air of finality.   Unchecked tears cascaded down your face, a poignant manifestation of the amalgamation of anger and heartbreak that tightly gripped your soul.   “Can’t believe i’m so fucking dumb that i didn’t even get the hint,”

“I helped you, i was there for you, and this is your way of showing gratitude?” you exclaimed with sheer rage, your jaw clenched and your hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.   The deluge of intense feelings engulfed every fiber of your being, causing your eyes to well up with tears as you were overcome by an inconsolable fit of sobbing.

“After two fucking years of our love story, you threw it all away as if it held no value or significance?”  You were consumed with intense anger and frustration, directing all the blame towards jhenicca.   Your anger escalated to such a level that it led you to harbor a desire for something that, upon reflection, you didn’t knew you would later deeply regret.  

“I wish you two die in a painful way.”

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

You eventually drive away and returned home, consumed by anger, and unleashed your fury by destroying everything in sight: vases, picture frames, and the gifts Earl had given you. You smashed the vases, threw them on the ground and the wall, tore the pictures apart and ripped the gifts to shreds, you even trew your chair on the ground, and The room was now littered with shattered remnants of your rampage.

After four hours of relentless tears, your eyes were swollen and dry, leaving you devoid of any more tears to shed. Your throat felt parched, and fatigue washed over you, making you drowsy. Your break down caused too many destruction. And In the midst of this overwhelming exhaustion, your phone rang.

you grimaced.

“Probably that cheating bastards.” you muttered angrily, retrieving your phone and reluctantly opening it. The harsh light caused you to wince, but to your relief, it wasn't Jhenicca or Earl on the other end, but rather the headquarters.

With a mix of apprehension and frustration, you answered the call. A chill coursed down your spine as you listened to what they had to say.

“Your Boyfriend and Best friend was found dead.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my friends in our small business that they need to do more?

🔎<- to find later

My (17F) and my friends (17-19, 3M, 1F) have a small business that we have run together for a while. We’ve thought about it since we were kids, and we were finally able to when one of my friends got his own car and a license.

What we do requires a lot of travel, so we’re on the road pretty much any time we aren’t in school. I usually find and research jobs, and the friend with the car drives us there. We travel on the weekend/vacation, or, if it’s close, we go there after school.

I wouldn’t trade this for the world — I love what we do, I love learning about new places, and I love being with my friends. But there a few problems.

Two of my male friends, A and B, hardly do anything, especially A. He always whines about wanting to go home, the kind of jobs we take, when we eat, etc. B doesn’t complain nearly as much, but always takes A’s side. And both of them need to be pleaded and negotiated with to do any sort of task.

They are both also HUGE stoners. They hide their stash pretty well, and I’ve never seen them smoking/eating any, but I can always smell it on them, and they are always high as a kite whenever we take a job. I’ve caught them taking food from client’s refrigerators, hiding in places when their paranoia gets bad, and generally just trying to get out of work any way they can.

C, my friend with the car, also does most of the work with me. However, he always uses the most complicated way of doing a job, usually wasting materials and time that could be used elsewhere.

C is also our de facto leader, so he always tells us where to go and what to do when we get to a job. This wouldn’t be an issue, except he always puts himself closest to D, who he has an on again off again relationship with. D also doesn’t do a whole lot — not that she isn’t willing to, but she just doesn’t have a whole lot of skills like C and I do.

This also means that I’m the one usually paired with A and B, which means pretty much babysitting them until we’re finished.

In a nutshell, I feel like I’m doing most of the work here. I find the jobs, do a lot of the planning, and figure out a lot of the problems we face. It’s not only exhausting, but also very frustrated to never be given recognition for picking up everyone’s slack.

But they’re also my friends, and I don’t want to make things awkward or make them upset. However, I can’t keep up with this workload, especially with the little funds we have.

Am I the AH for wanting them to do a little more for the business we made? I just can’t keep solving all these mysteries by myself.

What are these acronyms?

[so-long-soldier-writes]

One of Those Days

poly!mikaelsons x reader | request

summary: between the constant fighting and city clamor, you're overstimulated from the minute you wake up. you try to isolate until you feel better, but sometimes, that only makes things worse. luckily, your loving vampire partners are always there for you.

tags: sensory issues, mental health, overstimulation, arguing, mild emotional hurt / comfort

word count: ~2.6k

a/n: requested by @asexualaromosafezone - i am SO SORRY this took me literal months to complete. a couple days ago, i suddenly remembered i never filled it and finished it asap. i hope you like it, and again, so many apologies!

Sometimes, you wake up, and can immediately tell it’ll be a hard day. The sun has barely risen, yet there’s already a million noises coming through your window. Chatters of people having their morning walks, car horns from those too impatient to let them cross, the distant clang of a dropped pot, and-

“REBEKAHHH!”

-Klaus, yelling for his sister. At seven in the morning. 

“What the bloody hell are you shouting for?! I’m right here!”

You sigh, glad that mystery solved quickly.

There’s probably a few more minutes until your alarm rings, so instead of getting up a little earlier, you opt to enjoy your last minutes of peace. Though you soon realize that’s impossible, given your circumstances. On top of the city sounds, there’s a bird right outside your window, and when you try to turn away from it, the tag on your blanket itches the inside of your thigh. 

“Ugh!” You toss the blanket off. 

Your alarm sounds not a second later. 

With a slap to your phone and then another to your forehead, you decide to just get ready for the day. Luckily, not much is planned. Marcel still has control over the city, and with you being human, your Mikaelson hosts don’t want you outside at all. 

See, you live with the family of original vampires. You used to be a Mystic Falls’ resident, but then after developing a close connection with the siblings, decided to move to New Orleans with them and get a fresh start. You were tired of the small town life, and while the big city can be overwhelming at times, you’ll never get sick of the culture it has to offer. Besides, living with the most powerful family makes you happier than you ever believed you could be. 

As much as you love them, though, they can be a pain. Like when Klaus can’t find his sister, but forgets a whisper would summon her just as effectively. Instead, he has to wake up the whole quarter, and inconvenience you with a headache. When you reach the dining room that day, you slump your head on the table. 

“Everything alright, darling?” Kol’s voice floats over your head, making you aware of his presence. 

“Tired.”

“Is your bed comfortable enough? Do you need more blankets?”

You haven’t been in the city long, and his consideration warms your heart. 

“Oh, I’m okay. I’m very comfy. Just haven’t gotten used to the city yet.”

“Ah, I understand.”

His attention drifts to his sister. You busy yourself with a plate of food and ignore how tired you feel. When Elijah sits beside you, you offer a smile, but don’t say anything. The man, polite as ever, does the same. Though while two of the siblings are quiet, the other two aren’t. Klaus and Rebekah are still on the same topic from earlier. They bounce off each other quickly, childish banter turning into an argument.

You try to eat in peace and ignore them, but it’s difficult. And it doesn’t help that you’ve been feeling down lately, anyway. It’s rather unexplainable, the way you feel. Some days you’d rather stay in bed all day than face the world. Your whole body could be begging for you to get up and get things done, but you just can’t. No matter how hard you fight your own mind, sometimes there’s no winning the raging war. 

To make matters worse, you’re always hypersensitive when you find yourself in these low moods. Every little thing is overstimulating and there’s no pause button. This morning, you didn’t even get a chance to wake up before the sounds started. (Thanks, Klaus.) You roll your eyes in your head, annoyed. 

“Hey.” A poke to your shoulder startles you, making you jump. “You okay?” 

“Ooh, you caught me off guard.”

“Sorry,” Kol smiles, “you in deep thought, or rolling your eyes at Klaus’ statement?”

“Uh…” You bite your lip. You were rolling your eyes about Klaus, but missed whatever statement it was that he just made. “What did he say?”

“That he was on his way to have a little chat with Marcel. That will go swimmingly.”

“Oh.” You snort and decide to joke. “Both.”

Kol grins at you, but then, thankfully, leaves you alone again. 

After breakfast, you retreat back into your room, not in the mood to face the day. If Klaus is really going to start shit with Marcel, it’ll be an intense day. You’ve never met the current king of the French Quarter, but Elijah’s told stories. Marcel and the family used to be close, but then, like all their other relationships, ties ended drastically. 

“But not with you, of course,” he had promised. “You’re our girl.”

You were skeptical for a moment. Who wouldn’t be, knowing the Mikaelsons? But then Klaus approached you from behind with a kiss to your hair and confirmed his brother’s words,

“As long as we have your loyalty, you’ll always have ours.”

You could see the truth in his statement. Everyone who ended up on their bad side had betrayed them in some way. So, as long as you didn’t repeat others’ mistakes; as long as you kept your trust in the family, you would be considered family. And ever since the day you first grew close, you have been their family. 

You’re close with all of the siblings. Elijah, first, when you couldn’t take your eyes off him at Damon’s dinner party. Then Rebekah, and then Kol, when he undaggered. Even Finn, before his untimely death - thanks to Matt, your good friend now worst enemy. Klaus took the longest to trust you, and you can’t blame him for having trust issues, but once he realized how much his siblings adored you, he was quick to accept your place with them. 

Now, the five of you live together, nine hundred miles from your hometown. It’s certainly a change, but every day with them is an adventure.

Like today, you suddenly think, overhearing Elijah’s footsteps in the hallway. Today has definitely been one of those days. 

“Y/N?” He stops outside your door.

“Mhm?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

Elijah opens the door, but doesn’t fully enter your room. He looks you up and down before smiling. “I just thought you seemed sad earlier and wanted to check on you. Is everything okay?”

“Oh!” You put on a brave face to mask the tiredness you feel internally. “Yeah, I’m just out of sorts today. It’s nothing.”

“Are you sure? Because if someone’s bothering you, that’s something we can take care of.”

“No, no, I promise. It’s all just me. Just having a day.”

“You’re positive?” He asks for confirmation again.

“Have I ever lied to you, ‘Lijah?”

He looks down at his shoes, embarrassed. “No, you haven’t. I apologize for doubting you.”

“It’s okay,” you step closer to him, resting against the door frame. “No need to apologize. But I swear, I just… woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. New Orleans is a loud city. I’m still adjusting.”

“Okay. Well, call if you need anything. Even the smallest thing.”

“I will.”

“Oh, and be careful in the off-chance that Marcel storms in here. There’s a fight brewing in the quarter.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Better yet, stay inside for the day. So you’re not in harm’s way at all.”

“Okay, ‘Lijah.”

He smiles at you, then kisses your hand. “Now, I need to neutralize my brother. But I needed to make sure our girl was okay first.”

“She’s okay. Go deal with him.”

Elijah straightens his collar before speeding off to no doubt defend his brother in a fight. You love Klaus, but man, does he get angry. And then from anger, comes pure rage, then absolute chaos. Once situations escalate that far, the whole block better hide if they want to keep their hearts in their chest. 

You sigh, thinking of the carnage that may come. You’re not sure you can deal with his anger issues today, especially not coupled with those of Marcel. Of all the days they have to fight, it’s the one that you might snap, too, if he raises his voice one more time. 

Suddenly, your bed looks like the perfect oasis away from the mess behind your door. A good pillow over the ears might prevent an impending meltdown. You crawl into it at once and let your body melt into the mattress. 

You hadn’t lied to Elijah, though you hadn’t given him the full truth, either. Yes, you are, in general, okay. Not necessarily today, but at that moment, you were. Also yes, you’re not feeling great today, partly because of all the city noise. And, finally, yes, most of it is just you and your body not in the mood to be awake. Though Klaus is contributing, just a little bit, to your mental distress today. Elijah would understand, of course, but then he’d have a talk with his brother about it, and you really didn’t want to burden either of them in that way, so you put on a smile and didn’t mention it. You’d bet Elijah knows the full truth, and knows why you won’t admit it, but he respects you if you don’t want to talk about it. That’s one of the reasons you love him so much. 

You get a couple hours of rest until your slumber is interrupted by a new knock on your door. It’s not soft, like Elijah’s, so it must be one of the younger two. 

“Oh no,” you mutter, wondering what it must be now.

“Y/N?” Rebekah’s voice comes from the other side. “Are you awake?”

“I am now.” 

She opens the door as you reply. “Oh what the bloody hell are you still doing in bed?”

“Sleeping.”

“Obviously! Come watch a movie with Kol and I! We’d love your company.”

“An actual movie, or the public display of violence happening outside in the quarter?”

“We haven’t decided yet!” She grabs your hand. “Come on!”

You yawn. “I’m gonna pass today, I’m not up for it.”

“Awh, Y/N! It won’t be as fun without you!”

“I have a headache, Bex,” you fib. 

“Do you want some blood for that?”

“Does that even work like that?”

She shrugs, “not sure.”

You cuddle into your pillow. “Another time, okay?”

The girl smiles, then leans forward to kiss your head. “Okay. If you change your mind, come find us.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Dinner’s at seven. Will you be there?”

“Yeah,” you promise, “I should be better by then.”

You are not, in fact, better by then. If anything, your foul mood progressed into an actual headache within thirty minutes of Rebekah leaving. Shouts throughout the city managed to penetrate the thin glass of your windows, and you could hear almost everything as Klaus heckled the current king. For hours, it went on, until the sun went down and they assumedly put it off for another day. By seven o’clock, you were able to sneak in another nap, but you still felt way overstimulated from the day’s events. 

Not to mention the fact that you spent all day in bed. Sometimes, you’re overstimulated by too much going on, but today you partly did it to yourself by hiding away all day. The guilt of avoiding everyone weighs on your chest. Rebekah had invited you to a movie; Elijah went out of his way to check up on you, and you had more or less dismissed them both. A bitter taste sits in your mouth when you think about it. Water doesn’t wash it out.

Hopefully dinner will. 

For the first ten minutes, the night passes peacefully. Most of the conversation is focused between the meal and the movie the two had watched. The events of the day, seemingly, are left in the past.

But then, of course, Kol has to make a comment on something he overheard that he thought was funny. And that set Klaus off into a spewing of anger. He’s pissed at Marcel, but now, also, at Kol for bringing it up. Elijah puts his face in his hands, and Rebekah sends both a huge eye roll. 

What was a moment of much-appreciated silence is now a yelling match. After five minutes, you reach your breaking point. 

“Why do you feel the need to comment on that, Kol? It was so insignificant, but you’ve felt the need to bring it up, and now I’m reminded of how much Marcel has done to piss me off!”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, bloody hell! I thought it was funny!”

“It wasn’t funny to me when he was spitting in my face! I-”

“Oh my god! Are you ever not arguing?!” You suddenly shout. 

The table goes silent and all eyes are on you. A needle could be dropped and it would be heard across the quarter. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize quickly, embarrassed.

“Love,” Elijah puts a hand on your shoulder, “are you alright?”

At his touch, you flinch. He retracts his hand quickly, but doesn’t move his body away from its proximity to yours. 

Klaus, although upset at the interruption, notices this and calms a little. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

“That little outburst didn’t sound like nothing.”

“I’m just stressed.”

“Darling, what’s got you all upset? Tell us and we’ll sort it out now.”

“It’s no one, Kol, I’m just not feeling well.”

“Still have a headache, sweetheart?” Rebekah asks. 

“You have a headache?” Klaus butts in. 

The assortment of questions makes you drop your head. It nearly hits the table, but Elijah grabs your frame before you can fall. Tears form in your eyes, visibly. 

“I’m just really overstimulated today. I woke up weird and this city is loud, and then there was all the fighting all day long, and then I hid in my room all day, but then I felt bad about hiding, and now I’m making you all worried because I can’t get my shit under control!”

“And that’s your fault, how?” Elijah asks, “you cannot blame yourself for the way you feel.”

“But I need to handle my emotions better. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies necessary, love,” Klaus adds, “I certainly haven’t helped, fighting with children all day.”

“Niklaus,” Elijah warns, but Klaus doesn’t argue with him this time. 

“I should’ve stayed with you when you said you had a headache.”

“Don’t blame yourself either, Bex. It’s not your fault.”

“But we could’ve cuddled,” she frowns.

“It’s okay. I got a nap, and it helped a little. I just need to get used to my life being different now. None of you are at fault.”

“Nor are you,” the eldest reminds, “it’s been quite a day for us all.”

Kol clears his throat, “say, after dinner, if you feel up to it, we could all watch a movie and cuddle around you? I think some comfort is much needed.”

“Sure,” you agree, “but I might fall asleep during it.”

“That’s quite alright,” he smiles. He then stands up to hug you, but when his arms wrap around your neck, you freeze.

“Not yet, please. I’m still a bit stressed.”

He gives you a wink. “Of course, darling. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Klaus flicks his napkin across the table. He’s folded it into the shape of a heart. “We love you. You know that, right?”

You take the heart, kiss it, and put it in your pocket. “I do. I love you all, too. Thanks for understanding.”

[stellar-skyy]

PRECIOUS THINGS - Kazuha, Itto, Heizou, Kokomi & reader

i. SUMMARY: What kind of things would they give as a gift? ii. CONTENT WARNINGS: None! iii. NOTES: Can be read as platonic or romantic, fluff, gn!reader, 0.7k words. iv. A/N: it's actually my birthday soon! this was a little early present for myself hehe. i hope you enjoy!

KAZUHA

Kazuha doesn’t care much for material things. He’s a vagrant, there’s no room for too many unnecessary belongings when one is travelling with the wind. Sentimentality only slows him down.

Because of that, he keeps his gifts limited to something intangible. He’ll take you out for the day, show you the most peaceful places of Inazuma and bring you down to the beach to watch the sunset.  

As the sun dips low in the sky, he'll let you rest your head against his shoulder or in his lap if you're tired. But make sure you don’t fall asleep too quickly, or you’ll miss the beautiful view.

If Beidou allows it, you might even be treated to a stay on the Alcor, where Kazuha will help you up into the crow’s nest so you can observe the sea from the sky.

Perhaps the most precious thing he gives you is a haiku, written just for you. He’ll recite it while you’re relaxing on the ship, spinning words as elegantly as the waves flowing below you.

“Did you enjoy it? Well, perhaps we’ll have to spend some more time together when the winds lead us to each other again.”

ITTO

Ah, Itto.

Itto is the king of making your birthday a big deal.

The Arataki Gang will make sure to wake you up at the crack of dawn to start the celebrations early. First comes a homemade (and… debatably edible) cake, followed by an off-key singing of Happy Birthday with some beatboxing from Itto to accompany the song.

Then, once Itto has shooed the rest of the gang away to ‘let you have some peace and quiet’ he’ll present you with the gifts he’s picked out.

It’s all things he is interested in—onikabutos, trading cards. There’s nothing Itto loves more than sharing the things he’s fond of with the people he’s fond of, so he worked hard to find the finest of those things. You deserve the best, so that’s exactly what he’ll give you.

“Heh, good birthday, huh? Well of course it is, I couldn’t just leave my favourite honorary gang member without a proper celebration, could I?”

HEIZOU

Heizou! Heizou loves to share his interests with you, one of which being riddles and brainteasers.

On your birthday, he’ll present you with a locked box, covered in various puzzles. Once solved, the inside reveals a riddle that leads to a mysterious location tucked away in one of the chilly corners of Inazuma.

He’ll be waiting for you there, sitting cross-legged on the corner of a picnic blanket. Draped across is an arrangement of foods, a mix of both your favourites. Fried radish balls, Sakura tempura, and Taiyaki are some of his selections, but there is of course a variety of food picked out for you too.

Heizou has a gift as well, something that is exactly what you wanted. You never needed to tell him what it was—as Inazuma’s finest detective, he already figured it out.

“So, partner? Would you say your birthday lived up to your expectations?

KOKOMI

Kokomi wants your present to be perfect. You’re special to her, and special people deserve the best gifts.

Giving gifts is one of her favourite ways to show the people in her life that she loves them, so it must be something personal and related to you specifically; she doesn’t allow for half-thought out presents!

If you’re a fan of books, she’ll gift you a copy of The Legend of The Sword—her favourite book—and shyly ask for your opinion on it.

She will also make time in her schedule to spend time together, which is a gift in itself. She puts her work over everything, so for something else to become a priority is a rare sight.

During the day she’ll take you everywhere: across the scenic beaches of Watatsumi, diving in the depths of the ocean, before finally retreating back to her home to give you a homemade cake. The entire day is planned out (as expected of a grand strategist) and rest assured, she’ll make sure not a moment is wasted.

“So, did you have a good day? I hope so—happy birthday, (Name)!”

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

[daisies-on-a-cup]

tintin as a general concept is really funny to me bc its this young french/belgian/english boy running around solving mysteries with his little white dog and generally giving zero fucks about government laws or laws of physics and strong arming his way through tough situations and loving his self-imposed "job" of perpetual nosiness and he makes friends with drunk sailors and has this frankly unwarranted sense of courage coupled with some serious quick-thinking and dot-connecting and he's just some guy to the two police officers around like they see him walking around and are just like like "ah, tintin! what a lovely chap, hope his schooling is going alright" and meanwhile tintin is actively escaping a shooter while trying to figure out what the man who got shot on his doorstep was on about

[mistystepmoonbeam]

Reborn into BG3: Chapter 6

You're reborn into BG3 with only the memory of your past life. Now you're Tav's companion on his journey, and must learn about yourself as much as your new reality.

Chapter 6: Astarion is hungry, and why would he feed on a strong barbarian when you're right there?

Word count: 2.3K

Whatever took place at the blighted village exhausted the adventurers.  Tav had been able to talk his way around the goblins, but the spiders below the town had given them trouble.  You recall your own time defeating the spider matriarch, and her many, many children.    Between peeling off the webbing and patching up wounds,  they were all ready for rest.  

You and Karlach had bought some supplies to feed the group, and she was a lot more handy making a stew than you thought she would be. 

There was a strange sense of home as you all ate together, without Astarion who took his meal into his tent and claimed he was going right to sleep.  Karlach had booed at him but nobody pressed him to stay longer.  You wonder if tonight is the night he’ll try to feed off Tav.

When the night begins to quiet down and most of the companions go to bed you find you can hear a hum  in the air.  Your ears ring with some kind of energy coming from Tav’s bag.  You eye it by his bedroll, unsure if the hum is coming from there or if it’s a trick of echoes between the trees.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” a voice says in your ear.  You nearly jump out of your skin and turn to Gale, who’s holding up his hands with an apologetic smile.  

“I thought you went to sleep,” you say, hand over your heart.

Tav snickers at your fear, tail flicking in the air.

Gale lets out a small grunt as he sits beside you, one leg bent and the other stretched towards the fire.  “The spiders had quite the item in their cave, whether they knew it or not.”

Tav reaches into his bag and pulls out the amethyst stone you know unlocks the necromancer’s book.  The hum grows, more of an annoyance in your ear than anything.  

“What is it?” you ask.

“I believe it goes into this.”  Gale pulls out the Necromancy of Thay from his own pack.  The gaping mouth, amethyst eyes, all of it the same.  You resist the urge to scoot away, because unlike the stone key, you can’t sense anything from the book.  “Astarion was keen on holding onto this which is why I suspect he’s moping in his tent right now.”

You eye the book.  “You’re not going to open it, are you?”

“Perhaps another time.”  Gale sets the book away, while Tav tosses the amethyst into the air and catches it like a baseball.  Gale scolds, “Once again, please do not do that.”

Tav shrugs but stores the stone back in his bag.  He yawns and looks towards Shadowheart’s tent as if considering something before excusing himself.  Bag in hand, he retreats to his tent.  You look between him and Shadowheart’s tent curiously. 

“I think he’s worried about her,” Gale tells you, drawing your attention back to him.  “It took a lot of her power to heal him from the spiders poison.”

“Ah, right.”  She has looked extra weary upon her return.  “How are you feeling?”

“While I do look forward to a long rest, I wanted to test you.”

“You’re giving me a pop quiz?  But I didn’t even review the syllabus.”

Gale chuckles as he stands.  “If you can sense the power from the stone, then I believe you can manipulate the Weave.  Come.”

You follow Gale towards his tent but he keeps walking until you two are by the river.  With a large moon overhead and fireflies dotting the area you can see better than you thought you should.  

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do anything,” you say.  There’s an excited twinkle in his eye at the prospect of solving the mystery of your past.  As much as you want it to be true, you can’t picture yourself using magic.  

Gale smiles at you, like he knows something you don’t.  Well, he knows plenty you don’t but it seems like it’s something about you.  

“I’m going to channel the Weave,” he says, “and I want you to close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

You step up beside him, literally nothing to lose.  “Should I get the staff Tav gave me?”

“No, I just want you.”  Gale lifts his hands to start a spell when he clarifies, “Here.  I just want—need you right here without any conduits.”

You bite your cheek to hide the smile at his stammering, and nod.  With a tilt of your head left and right to stretch your neck, you close your eyes.

“Now, just tell me what you feel.”

You wait for something to happen, a breeze or a sting on your skin, but even the phantom limb is unperturbed by whatever Gale is doing.  You shrug.  “Nothing.”

Gale’s voice is distant when he responds.  “Reach out with your mind.”

Once upon a time you would have asked how to do that, but now you keep quiet and consider trying to move the phantom limb.  It’s right there, a weight on the back of your mind and yet…

You clear your throat, shoulders shifting uncomfortably.  It’s heavier now, even without actually trying to use it.  The cold fear that settles across your chest pierces deeper than anything you’ve ever felt.  Your breath quickens until that cold fear becomes terror wrapped around your heart and you open your eyes, ready to tell Gale you want to stop. But instead of the handsome wizard you find a rotting boar head in front of you, on top of Gale’s body.  Maggots fall from its eye sockets and the mouth hangs open with a broken jaw, fur matted with fresh and dry blood alike.  It squeals at you as if being skewered alive.

The terror bubbles into your throat until it comes out of your mouth as a shriek.

You shoot up from your bedroll, arms blindly shoving at the dark to get the boar-headed Gale away from you and finding nothing but shadows.  You lurch, falling to the side when your hands connect to nothing, heart ablaze with adrenaline as you claw at the blue fabric.  It’s too dark in your tent to see anything but out of habit you scramble for your phone, your nightstand, something, anything to light up this small space and assure you there’s no threat.  

There’s only the bottom of your staff and at the very least you can swing that around to hit anything that might be near you.  And you do swing it.  It connects with nothing.

The hanging crystals and bones clatter together when you stop after three swipes.  Your chest and shoulders rise and fall heavily with each breath, eyes adjusting to the dark.  

You gulp down as much air as possible while trying to calm your body.  You’re not just shivering, you're trembling from the residual fear of the dream.  But it wasn’t that bad.  Really, thinking about it now that you’re awake, it was scary but it wasn’t anything worse than what you’ve had in the past.  And it certainly shouldn’t have had you shrieking in the night.

Speaking of…shouldn’t someone have come running by now?  You listen to the wind blow through the trees but hear nothing else.  No questions about what’s going on, and no Tav rushing to your rescue.  Maybe you hadn’t actually screamed?  You could have sworn…

You aren’t ready to set down your staff, but you’re far too shaky to go back to sleep.  Instead you begin to stand only to see movement out of the corner of your eye.  Your body is much slower to react, even when on high alert, and in a flash there’s a hand over your mouth and your back is pressed against a warm chest, both of you still on the ground and your legs tangled in the blanket.  The intruder's other hand is wrapped around your own on the staff, ensuring you can’t attack.

Your free hand, still healing, fumbles to free your mouth when you hear a whisper, “Shhh, shh, sh.”

“Mstaeeom?”

“No need to wake up the entire camp,” Astarion says.  He snatches the staff from your grip while you’re temporarily stunned and tosses it out of reach.  “And no need to bludgeon me, either.”

You let out a deep sigh through your nose and lay a hand over Astarion’s to reassure yourself it’s him.  You remember his scent, more woodsy than you thought it would be, and your heart rate begins to calm.  When his other arm secures around your middle it reassures you more—the tightness of the hold comforting.

“Are you…are you calming down?” he questions incredulously.

You try to answer but can’t speak clearly with his hand over your mouth.  So you shift and try to look at him over your shoulder, pressing yourself further into his chest as your head struggles to turn.  You can just make out his chin in the dark when he finally releases your mouth.  

“I thought you were Gale with a rotting boar head.”

He squints at you, upper lip curling.  “I’ll assume that was the nightmare that had you assaulting the air.  But…why are you calm?  Shouldn’t you be screaming?  Struggling?  Calling for the others?”

“Why?”  When you attempt to shift forward he doesn’t let you, arm now locked securely around your waist since he’s no longer concerned with you fighting back with the staff. 

“Because I’m attacking you.”

“You are?”  You turn to get a better look at him but he grabs your chin and faces you forward.

He pauses.  “I just need a little of your blood and I’ll be on my way.  We don’t need to make a big thing out of it.”

“Blood?  Shouldn’t you be going for Tav?”

“Why would I go for the bulky barbarian that’s sleeping out in the open when you’re hidden here, weak and ripe for the plucking?”  Astarion begins to shift your head to the right to reveal your neck.  

“That’s a good point,” you mumble.  

His breath fans over your pulse point, but it isn’t some kind of excited or pleasant exhale.  It’s more like disappointment or…exhaustion.  And he doesn’t bite you.

“Um, Astarion,” you say.  

He’s silent.

“If you’re going to drink my blood can you at least do it from the wrist?”

“What?”  His question is just another breath.

“It’ll be easier to conceal marks on the wrist.”

Of all things, Astarion shoves you away.  He’s quick to get on his feet and step away from you while you fumble for balance.  One slender, pale finger points at you.  “What’s your game?”

“Go fish?”

His scowl deepens.  Watching him work through the slew of emotions and questions would be entertaining, if not for your own nagging question; why is he upset by this?  You offered him your blood just like Tav would.  So why didn’t he happily accept and tell you to get comfortable?  Wait.  Why were you so willing to get comfortable and let him potentially kill you?  Let’s lock that thought away until we can find out if therapists exist in this world.

“Sorry,” you say.  “I’m not playing a game…I just trust you.” 

A truly terrible idea.  There’s no guarantee this Astarion is exactly like the game but…

“And I owe you right?” you add.  “Feeding on me will just be like clearing my debt.”

Astarion frowns but considers your words.  “I suppose this means you know what I am.”

You scratch at the spot on your neck he’d been breathing on.  “I might have put it together just now.  And you’re a better fighter when you’ve fed, right?”

“Well I don’t need any more convincing,” Astarion says, voice turned that saccharine tone.  “Why don’t you get comfortable?”

As he kneels beside you you hold up a hand.  “I meant it about the wrist.”

Astarion frowns but nods.  You roll up the sleeve of your shirt, holding your arm towards him.  He sits, one leg bent so his knee faces upwards and the other lays on the ground.  There’s a gentleness as he takes your wrist with both hands, lifting it to his lips.  If you could see perfectly in the dark this might have scared you more, but the most you could make out were his eyes watching your skin and then the opening of his mouth.  

You feel the sting of his fangs, sinking deeper than any wound you’ve had before.  Well, any wrist wound, anyway.  You look away, not wanting to stare despite the morbid fascination with the act.  And you should be…colder, shouldn’t you?  Yes, his fangs do feel like ice is piercing your veins but the rest of you is warm—flushed even.  But then your head begins to swim, mind too big for your skull, and you sway.  

It’s too hot in that little tent.  Too enclosed.  You gulp as the nausea curls in your gut, the blood seeping from your wrist that doesn’t get sucked away by the vampire now dripping down your arm.

“Astarion,” you whimper.  When you try to pull back your arm he keeps you in place, drinking heavily.  

Oh gods, you rolled a one.

“Astarion!” you hiss.  It’s enough to take him out of his trance, finally pulling his fangs out of your wrist.

“Wha-oh, yes,” he mutters.  You watch him wipe the blood on his chin with his thumb and then lick it off.  Had you enough blood in your body and again, the ability to see perfectly in the dark, it might have been lewd.  But you have to lie down in hopes of making the world stop spinning.

“That was…” Astarion begins but changes whatever he was going to say.  “That was wonderful, thank you.  Now, I’m off to find something more…filling.”

You turn your head to him as he steps towards the entrance of your tent.  Just as he’s about to open one flap he turns to you. “Are you…all right?”

You give him a thumbs up with your good hand and a yawn.  “Don’t put any boars in my tent this time.”

Astarion replies, but you’re already asleep and don’t hear anything else the rest of the night.

Taglist:

@half-poison-and-half-hope @sanscas @hotmesshobbit @godoffuckedupcats @thequeen-oni @terrenuserinj @straewberrysoda @theomnipotentfox @becksynthetic @quitecontrary-to-mary @furblrwurblr @mega-trash-cringe @fandomsbookclub @dontneedbiologytoadopt @pebble-bb @v3lv3tvampir3 @mrow-kat

[kazumiku]

— SIMPLE AMUSEMENT

NSFW (crossposted on AO3 @Kazumik)

SUMMARY; Your best friend, Heizou, has no sense of self-control. Nor does he have any dignity left, or shame for that matter, as he keenly allows his perverse side to reveal itself during a lecture, appallingly enough in front of the professor's presence. And, well, everyone else's included for that matter.

READ WARNINGS; ooc Heizou, sadistic Heizou (i think), sexual content, public fingering, minors do not interact

you have now been warned...

The professor’s silvery voice enters through the mic as he stood at the mini podium, echoing through the lecture hall as he goes on about the current lesson for the semester. It was boring, to say the least, some students sleeping and others playing on their laptop, acting like they’re listening or something along the lines. Only proves as testimony to how sleep-worthy the time was rather than to listen to a tedious babble that people could study later on the internet—or in the library, if you’re feeling rather brave.

Heizou had finished his classes for the day, so he joined in yours instead, choosing to sit beside you like a clingy koala that can’t live without its tree that it calls a home. You’re his home, after all, might as well be one as he’s basically stuck with you by the hip at this point.

Of course, you allowed him to do so. You always do. You’re as infatuated with him as he is to you, and it’s painfully obvious to everyone who spares a glance at the both of you. If the sky is blue, if water is wet, Heizou wants to fuck you; giving you those bedroom eyes of his should be confirmation enough. Ah, but young love always comes denial, so before any labels, other than ‘friends,’ are established, his hands are already on you.

The skin of his hand calloused, rough from his training in martial arts, but it’s nothing you’re not fond of. Each part of Heizou is a puzzle you’ve already solved—well, partially, since his feelings are mysterious as a 20-year-old unsolved case could be (even if it’s as clear as day in other people’s eyes).

His palms squeezed your thigh from under the table, his olive green eyes looking upfront as if he wasn’t touching you, caressing you so… sensually. Heizou’s fingertips played with the hem of your skirt before slipping under the fabric to grope your plush skin, his sinful hands contradicting with the bored look on his charming face as he yawned. If people didn’t know better, he looked drowsy—he’s quite skilled in the arts of deceiving.

“Heizou, what are you doing?” You whispered with an accusatory tone, directing to the redhead beside you who simply glanced briefly before shrugging.

“What are you talking about, babe?” Heizou answered with a question, his voice as low as yours as to not perk anyone’s attention to the both of you. He will, eventually, though.

You could only shoot him daggers with your eyes, threateningly so, he found it adorable as his lips broke into a mischievous smirk. Chuckling under his breath, his hand moved higher, using his nail to trace imaginary shapes on the flesh of your soft thigh, inching dangerously close to the lace trim of your underwear. Thank god, if it weren’t for the desk covering the scene and the fact that you both sat at the far back, you would’ve been sent to detention by now and Heizou’s rights to see you during class-times would be revoked.

 Pressing his thumb above the fabric your panties where your clitoris would be, you jerked in your seat, leaving people to cast fleeting glances at you, a variety of bewilderment and suspicion. You simply offered an awkward smile to anyone who turned their head, leaving them to brush you off and resume to what they were initially doing.

Turning back to Heizou with a scowl, cheeks puffed, round like a chipmunk’s as you furrowed your brows together, frustrated and awfully aroused. “Stop it, we’re going to get in trouble,” Squirming slightly in your seat, you whined, a hand reaching down to grasp his wrist and endeavored to pry it off you, hoping that would be enough of a sign for him to stop.

But, rather than the response you were hoping for, it was as if his whole arm became rock solid, with impossible strength that you couldn’t possibly compare with.

The redhead turned his head to you with a grin, lazily leaning back on his seat before his fingers shift to slide between your slit to feel the dampness that accumulated from all this harmless teasing. “You’re so easy,” Heizou snickered before slipping his fingers back to between your folds, now prodding against the soaked material. As much as he wants to shit on you for getting so turned on by getting toyed with in class, he was equally as aroused as you, the tent growing in his pants telling much more than he’d like to reveal.

Tugging the trim of your panty to the side, shivers ran up your spine as the contact of his rough skin met flesh with your bare pussy, the hairs on your supply skin standing up. He was playing a risky game, but a thrilling one nevertheless, the blood pumping fast upwards to your face as Heizou started to caress your sensitive folds.

His fingers sought out your little nub, pinching and twisting the erect pebbled flesh that poked out of the hood of your pussy. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth as hastily as you could before any lewd noises might come out to spill, swallowing your sounds back down along with the growing lump in your throat.

You still had a hand around his wrist, but due to his unmoving resolve, you could only dig your nails into his flesh in an attempt to ground yourself. You couldn’t stop him—might as well indulge, no?

Heizou smirked at that, passing you a wink before he pushed his middle finger inside you experimentally, though easily pushing past the natural resistance of your entrance due to the slick nectar that pearled out, using its viscosity natural lube. His digit rubbed your insides, nudging at your velvety walls to seek a spot that he can bully while you could do nothing but squirm and suffer in your seat.

Chewing down on your lip won’t be enough as you brought a hand up to your face, opting to cover your mouth instead while tilting your head down, sweat dripping down your forehead as you breathed heavily, inhaling and exhaling deeply as quietly as you possibly can. It proved to be a challenge to do so, though, once he found the spot that drove you to almost choke out a loud moan if it weren’t for the hand suppressing your erotic tune.

Your grip on his wrist had become impossibly tight, grasping on him like a lifeline as he added another finger, stretching you out and curling up towards the spot he’d memorized. Tears sting your waterline as you perched your forehead against the surface of the desk, your hair draping down the sides of your face to cover whatever lewd expression graced it. That was an ego boost for the redhead, to see you all so submissive and adorable like this.

Heizou leaned his head down, cradling his cheeks in the palm of his hand before whispering straight into your ear, “You like this, don’t you? Your cunt is sucking up my fingers so much, baby,” He purred before shifting his head to press a kiss on your neck then going back to his initial position, sitting straight on his chair. His fingers remained relentless nonetheless, pumping in and out of your slick heat in earnest.

It was a miracle nobody has found out... yet, the squelch of his digits abusing your insides getting drowned out by the professor’s loud voice in the speaker, luckily enough.

After what felt like an eternity (though it was just a few minutes) had passed, your insides clamped around his fingers, indicating your growing climax, a familiar knot inside your stomach snapped and your limbs felt like mush. Your arms gave out and you panted, desperately trying to regain what little air you had inside your lungs for the moment, your whole body sensitive as Heizou rode out your orgasm with a devilish smile.

You hadn’t realized your hips had moved on its own, bucking weakly against his fingers before he pulled them out of you, a string of translucent slick connecting his hand to your pussy before it snapped and dripped down to the floor. The redhead chuckled as he heard your little whine from the empty feeling, and as much as he’d like to do more, you’ve already attracted a much bigger audience than he expected when small whispers started to emerge from left to right.

[atierrorian]

So... can you do Vil with a reader that is lazy and doesn't care about their own appearance, runs (and manages to escape) every time Vil tries to make them do skincare or put makeup? Bonus: reader loves to chase after Vil dirty with mud to hug him and make him mad on purpose

Of course! But Vil would not be very happy about this predicament... But it's amusing so!

Context: Despite being a Pomefiore, you most definitely don't act like one! Or aka your just another Epel, just a bit more wild and crazier. And Vil gets a headache from you.

Some warnings before we start: Reader is part of Pomefiore, if you squint you can see some mentions of insecurities

Can be read as Platonic or Romantic! (Mostly Platonic tho)

Part 2

Word count: 1.4k

Vil has no idea how you were even accepted into Pomefiore.

I mean, you had no etiquette whatsoever, he really doesn't understand why the mirror sorted you into Pomefiore, it was a mystery that he thought would never be solved.

But he does have to admit, you were beautiful if you did actually made any effort to make yourself look more into the standards of Pomefiore, but rarely do you even do try to make yourself look presentable.

Vil sighed, you were basically just another Epel, but more crazier and wild. How was it even possible? What did the mirror even see in you to sort you into Pomefiore? I mean first of all, you were lazy and didn't even bothered to try and fix your appearance, second of all, when he does try to fix your appearance, you would successfully managed to escape him and run away, it really did infuriate him, and third, when you get yourself dirt or even mud, you chase him. The first time you did that, he almost passed out.

Vil doesn't even know how you even manage to escape every single time! It was really annoying him, you ruin the image of Pomefiore and the Evil Queen's image.

His gonna have to step up his game if he wants you to at least behave, you're part of Pomefiore whether you liked it or not. He is seriously gonna have to teach you some etiquette, but you somehow escape the lessons and now he is gonna have to find you. Again.

And that's what his doing, trying to find you. He already ordered Rook to go and find you but currently he still hasn't found you. Seriously how do you even manage to escape from Vil and Rook's grasp?

You seriously are such a troublesome aren't you?

As Vil's heels echoed through the hallway trying to find you, he spotted Rook with you as you didn't even bothered to try and escape, knowing it was futile to even try, especially since Rook has his grip on you. Both you and Rook looked at the sound of heels echoing through the hallway, knowing who it was.

"Ah! Roi du Poison, your just in time! [Name] and I were just having a little chat while waiting for you!" Rook said while still holding the scruff of the Pomefiore uniform while you looked slightly annoyed and crossed your arms.

Your appearance was really really messy, it was seriously annoying to see your appearance so messy and so lazy.

"Why didn't you bring them to me?" Vil said, raising an eyebrow wondering why Rook didn't bring you to him, he could have fixed your appearance now that you were caught right handed. He really needed to fix your appearance, you were really muddy, your hair is a mess, and even your uniform was untidy.

"Why Roi du Poison! I simply wanted to have a little chat with [Name] here before bringing them to you!" Rook said while he still held your untidy uniform.

"Just let me go already, my appearance is fine the way it is, besides, I can have myself cleaned." You said, still struggling to get out of Rook's grip.

Vil glanced at you and Rook as he sighed. He might have to extend your etiquette lessons. You were seriously really hard to manage, for the love of the sevens.

Vil looked at you and mentally sighed to himself. Your seriously a troublemaker, and the complete opposite of what a Pomefiore should be.

"Your worse than Epel, you do know that right?" He said while walking towards you and looking at your appearance. You looked away from his stare ignored him.

"I seriously don't get why the mirror even chose you to be in Pomefiore, you don't even have half of the qualities of being a Pomefiore." He said before sighing and telling Rook to bring you back to the room so that you and him could resume your lessons. You really were quite the troublesome weren't you? You and Epel were basically partners in crime, except Epel was a lot more easier to teach, ish.

[Name] groaned knowing that they would have to go back to those silly little etiquette lessons, it was so boring first of all and you didn't even had that much energy to follow through the grueling lessons. You didn't even know why you were even sorted into Pomefiore too anyways. You were basically being forced into these lessons, and you hated it.

As Vil walked away, Rook smiled at you and told you to not to worry, you are worried. I mean, you could be all those qualities of Pomefiore, you just didn't really feel like it most of the time. You thought it was just a waste of time to be honest.

"Don't give that look [Name], Roi du Poison is merely looking out for you." Rook said, noticing your expression. I mean you get that you have to put the image of Pomefiore but it was seriously tiring doing that.

"I get that Vil wants me to be all so, you know, more proper, but it's honestly so tiring." You said as Rook let go of your collar. This time, you didn't bother trying to run away, knowing it was futile since Rook was literally right beside you. And if you tried to run away now, you'd be in a lot more trouble then you already were.

You were seriously gonna get revenge soon. But later, once your done with the lessons with Vil, maybe then you can get your little revenge on Vil. Like, I guess chasing him again while you have mud on yourself? You can try but that would double the lessons, but it would be so worth it.

.

.

.

Finally, after that grueling lessons, you were finally done with the lessons. You feel like you can pass out now, all those lectures and etc were just so tiring, you don't know how much more you had to do this, or how long you can even take this at this point.

You panted as Vil glanced at your way, you were sweaty and looked like you were about to pass out from exhaustion, which technically, you were about to pass out. You swear you will chase him again with mud on you.

As if Vil could read your mind, he told you to not even think about getting yourself dirt or mud again, and even chase him while you had dirt and mud on you again.

"Do not even think about doing that [Name], or there will be severe consequences for that." He said as he tidied up the place while you pouted.

"Oh whatever, I'm going back to my room and take a bath." You said, you seriously are going back to your room and take a bath because sheesh, you stink as hell and it isn't exactly nice to smell it.. Even you admit it.

"Hm, alright Potato, get some rest alright?" Vil said while you nodded at his words and walked towards the door trying to go back to your own room. And before you could walk out the door you hear Vil say something.

"And also Potato, do take good care of yourself, okay?" He said, you softly smiled at his words and nodded, but this doesn't mean you still won't try to chase him.

Vil sighed as he watched you walked out the door.

What a troublesome potato indeed.

Bonus: warning, ooc

"[NAME] I SWEAR IF YOU WON'T STOP CHASING ME I WILL SERIOUSLY MAKE OUR LESSONS MORE HARDER!" Vil shouted at you as you chased him, trying to hug with while having mud on you.

"Oh come on Vil! I only want a hug!" You yelled while having your arms wide open trying to hug Vil. Even if Vil was going to make the lessons 10x harder, it would be so worth it.

"ROOK!"

"Yes Roi du Poison?" Rook smiled at the scene in front of him, this was quite amusing indeed. Vil yelled at Rook to do something about this current situation.

Rook simply smiled but agreed and tried to chase after you while you were chasing Vil.

As Epel was looking at the scene in front of him, he tried really hard not to laugh, but wasn't able to and laughed real hard.

This "Family" is quite messed up, but at least they all know.

Maybe not "all" but you get my drift.

Whew! This was quite enjoyable to write, but at the same time it also doesn't make sense! But I do hope you guys enjoyed this as well!

[harunayuuka2060]

Leona: I don't understand why we're doing this.

Ruggie: Hey, but admit it. It's kind of fun. Not your usual writing your research papers.

Kalim: *yells from afar* Leona! How's your investigation??

Jamil: Kalim, mind your own business. We still need to gather evidence for the mystery they tasked us.

Kalim: But our stories need to be aligned, right?

Jamil: *facepalm* Yes and no. Sensei specifically asked that we do our own task and once we're done, we shouldn't bother the others.

Kalim: Aww...

Leona and Ruggie: ...

Leona: This is going to be chaotic.

Ruggie: Yep. Definitely.

Riddle: Hmm...

Riddle: This is not adding up!

Jade: The alibis have to make sense for them to work.

Azul: You need to do your job right because we're going to re-enact that.

Floyd: I like being the suspect.

Malleus: What are you all doing?

Them: AH!

Riddle: Oh. It's you, Malleus-senpai.

Azul: We're currently solving a mystery.

Malleus: Mystery? Like solving them?

Floyd: Hm... Not exactly. You see, MC-sensei asked us to do one of the steps.

Jade: And ours should be in line with the others.

Malleus: Hm. I didn't know mysteries could be solved like that.

Azul: Floyd and I will be the actors showing how the mystery worked.

Azul: While Riddle and Jade are tasked to arrange the alibis and select which ones are plausible.

Malleus: *nods* I see. May I sit in to your class to watch?

Riddle: Well, MC-sensei wouldn't mind the least. So yes, you could.

MC: *chuckles* I'm quite excited for this. Are you feeling the same, sophomores?

The sophomores: Hell, yes!!!

MC: *laughs* *then noticed Malleus* Oh! We have a third-year here! Hello, Mr. Draconia~!

Malleus: I apologize for not asking you first before I came here, sensei.

MC: No worries! You've asked Mr. Rosehearts. That should be fine.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: How—

MC: Now, I believed everyone have completed their tasks. Let's see how your stories would be aligned.

Malleus: *has been cackling since he came back from Professor MC's class*

Lilia: Malleus? Malleus? Care to share what happened?

Malleus: It was hilarious.

Lilia: *pouts* Just tell me already.

Silver: You can ask me, father. I was there too.

Lilia: Alright. So what happened?

Silver: We were tasked to complete a mystery. We completed each a step and we started off good. Leona and Ruggie provided what was the mystery within the situation and who were likely the suspects.

Silver: Sensei applauded them, but that was when the chaos started.

Silver: The second step up to the last didn't match with what Leona and Ruggie's group provided.

Silver: The only saving grace we had was when Floyd and Azul managed to guess how the victim died.

Malleus: Rosehearts' team had guessed that it was due to a powerful curse and the reason behind it was jealousy, however— *starts laughing again*

Silver: It was only a huge misunderstanding. The suspects were guilty of attempted murder for trying to poison the victim's food. But the victim...

Silver: ...

Malleus: *still laughing*

Silver: Just died from choking...

Silver: After eating a huge meatball.

Lilia: ...

Lilia: Wow.

Malleus: And the meatball wasn't even poisoned—

Crowley: Professor MC, the third-years are now requesting for you to be their teacher as well.

MC: Hmm... That's too sudden.

Crowley: Mr. Draconia has shown some interests in your class which is a really good thing.

MC: Hehe~ Headmage, since my workload seems to be increasing... Does that mean I'm getting a raise?

Crowley: ...

Crowley: How much do you want?

MC: My mom's birthday is next week and I badly want to treat her to something fancy.

Crowley: Er... Double?

MC: Yes. Thank you~.