#MC Snippet
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TSR Snippet - Experimental Patience
Warning: Contains gruesome details, violence, torture, gore and mention of rape.
PLEASE DO NOT PROCEED IF YOU AREN'T GOOD WITH DARK CONTENTS AND THE WARNINGS!
The basement is a quiet space for me, save for the sound of dripping liquid and wretched sobs.
"G-Gh...Ghlrgh..."
"Pl...Please, let us...let us go...sob."
I move my fingers to my temple with the hand I have been leaning my head again, my elbow on the table next to me. Rubbing it in circles, I sigh through my nose and dart my eyes between the people before me.
There are three people in front of me, strapped to their chairs. The first one is a man with damp, messy blond hair. His mouth is toothless and blood is spilling out. One of his eyes has blood spilling out, which is to be expected after I pulled it out.
The one in the second seat, a woman, is quiet and barely making a noise every five minutes. Her hair had been a luscious blue hair, now cut away with visible patches of her head like bald spots. Crimson liquid runs down the edge from the wounds on said 'bald spots', which made her blue hair dirty and no doubt stiff from the blood. If I move even a finger, I can see her flinching and hear more whimpers, albeit hoarse.
Then the third person, a man who is pleading to be let go, has the worst of the injuries out of the three. Bruises litter his face and whip marks are all over his body. But the biggest wound of them all is between his legs, where he keeps them spreading after my method of crushing his masculinity.
I purposefully drop the hammer I had used onto the table, letting it release a loud clang. That's enough to have the woman wailing.
"Aah...! No, NOOO!!!"
She starts squirming and rattling the chair, but it stays glued to the floor it's nailed on. Sadists would probably be having the time of their lives in hearing so much fear from a woman who once held so much belief in her power to resist crumbling.
However, I do not find much enjoyment in this; I don't even know if I'm feeling anything to this sight. It is what it is.
"H-Hhh...Haht do y-you..."
I glance at the first man - the toothless man - and more or less guess his question. I grab a metal dart from my table of tools and answer him with a swift throw of it towards him.
"ARGHHHH!!!"
As expected, he screams. Again. He throws his head back and shivers over the needle of the dart now embedded against his torso.
"L...Let me go..."
I turn to the third man now, quietly staring at him. He notices my gaze and he bends forward, the shackles on his wrists jingling.
"Let...me go...I'll do...anything...just anything..."
I turn to his allies, the woman and toothless man, then back to him. "Just you?"
A spark of light in his eyes. A spark of hope. He nods, weakly but with desperation in his voice. "Yes...Yes...me, just me..."
I sigh, my shoulders slumping a little. Then I lift myself off my chair and grab the rattling keys I have by my side. The third man's eyes gleam brighter the closer I walk to him. I bend down slightly and hold the key between our faces.
"Just you?" I ask him again with nary but a whisper in this desolate basement, "Like being the 'lucky' one who took the blond's V-card round after round?"
The mention of what he had boasted in the bar a few nights back saps away the hope in his eyes and he starts shaking his head. His lips tremble as much as his voice. "N-No...I would never-"
I slip the key between my fingers, enough to where only the tip is sticking out, and begin slamming my fist against the side of his head.
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
BAM!
Blood sprays onto the floor again and after a while, I finally stop to step back.
Pained sobs leave the third man, no doubt his voice too hoarse to bring out more than such. I glance over to the toothless man and woman and they still have their eyes away, probably to look away from the horror.
They're forced to listen to it anyways; it's the only reason why I haven't cut off their ears.
I make my way back to my chair and put the now-blooded key on the table. Flipping open my book, I write down with the pen attached to it.
Subject 3 blood loss countdown...
I glance over to the other page of the book, where there is a little green snake on the corner of the page; it's something I drew before starting my sessions with those three.
The sight invokes an ache in my heart...then rage upon my blood.
It'll be a long while before they get to die
#The Sole Reminiscence#TSR#Snippet#very brutal Snippet#MC Snippet#Torture involved#Just felt like writing something grim#and it led to this#Yeowch
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MC and the demon brothers are walking in town on a particularly chilly day. In the middle of a conversation, MC suddenly sneezes.
MC: *sniffs* Ugh, excuse me.
Mammon: *puts his jacket on MC* Geez, humans are so weak in cold weather. I guess I’ll have to lend ya my jacket until we’re inside again.
MC: Oh, no, you don’t have to—
Beelzebub: *also puts his jacket on MC, overtop of Mammon’s* It’d be bad if you got sick, MC. Mammon’s jacket is small, so you can use mine, too.
MC: But—
Belphegor: *hands MC his pillow* Missing school and staying home to sleep wouldn’t be so bad, but I’d rather you not get sick either. So, here, hold this close to you. It should have some of my body heat since I’ve been carrying it this whole time.
MC: Um—
Lucifer: *puts his gloves on MC’s hands* You need to take care of yourself, MC. The next several days will be cold like this, so make sure to wear more layers when you go out from now on.
Asmodeus: *wraps his scarf around MC’s neck* And some warm accessories! When done right, they can really make your outfit extra stylish while still keeping you cozy.
MC: This is a bit—
Leviathan: *puts a Ruri-chan beanie he just bought on MC’s head* And you can feel more connected to your favorite 2D characters by wearing more merch with them on it! Doesn’t it just fire up your heart?!
Satan: *puts a pair of fuzzy cat ear muffs on MC* Personally, I don’t care what you wear or how you look as long as you stay warm and healthy. Still, you do look quite cute with these tiny cat ears, and now your head shouldn’t lose as much heat even when it’s windy.
MC: *face flushed from the added warmth and the actions of the doting demons* Thanks, guys. ...But now I’m too hot.
#if mc thinks this is bad...imagine if the dateables were there too#they'd end up immobile from all the clothing#it's all out of love tho#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mc#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me asmo#obey me beelzebub#obey me beel#obey me belphegor#obey me belphie#snippet#dialogue
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DEMO SNIPPET
Ciaran and MC being Ciaran and MC (ft Dog who’s just happy to be there). Unedited as always.
“Not even a kiss for good luck?”
Ciaran glares at you, but the effect is rather ruined by the flush of red that blooms across $chis cheeks.
“I’d rather kiss $dog.”
$dog, who has just been laying there with $dhis head resting on your boot, perks up immediately at being mentioned. $dhis tail thumps against the ground and you get the pleasure of watching Ciaran immediately melt. $chis eyes soften and $che crouches down to scratch $dog behind the ears.
“You’re pretty adorable together.”
Ciaran looks up, a scowl on $chis pretty face, and freezes. $chis face slackening in shock as $che goes bright red and splutters out, “you’re smiling.”
While this kind of behaviour from Ciaran would usually trigger the little sadist in you. Something about $chis words and the way $che’s looking at you has you shifting uneasily instead, but you try to play it off with a smirk and shrug, “I smile all the time.”
$che sighs, pets $dog one more time, and stands. “No, $mc, you smirk and you grin and you cackle like a grade-a freak, but you don’t smile.” Ciaran looks away and says almost absentmindedly, “you should though, you looked…beautiful.”
You blink a couple of times, but before you can reply, Ciaran recovers and storms off, throwing one last parting shot over $chis shoulder.
“That’s only cause you look like something a Kaiju shat out most of the time though, so anything would be an improvement on that.”
You look down at $dog and wink, “$che definitely has a crush on me.”
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(Happy Valentine's Day~ I hope everyone has a good day be that alone or with someone. Thought I would do a nice little snippet of one of the Valentine's Day of MC's past. It's a bit long but either way hope you enjoy.)
Shifting around in your desk chair, you reach a hand out to graze along the soft petals of roses sitting on your desk. It had been the third set of flowers that came for you today. The first were in your chair when you arrived this morning, the second set waiting for you in your locker in the break room. The third set, the ones you’re currently admiring, were waiting for you when you got out of your meeting.
You had to admit, they were quite beautiful. Each dozen a different color than the one prior. The first a soft yellow, with a card wishing you a good morning. The second a nice orange, another card with well wishes for the day. This set, a nice lavender shade, though the card had yet to arrive.
A soft smile on your face, that is until you feel hands cover your eyes. Your body stiffens, wondering if it’s the sender of what is getting to be your little flower garden. Then slowly your senses begin to adjust allowing you to pick up a familiar scent. A scent you’ve grown familiar with. Warm vanilla. Making it easy for you to put a face to the voice that then whispers into your ear.
“If it isn’t the second most popular person in the office.”
Reaching up you grab her soft delicate hands and move them down, finally opening your eyes. “Were you that bored without me here, Kara?”
She scoffs, before looking down into your eyes. Furrowing her brows, an expression that doesn’t suit her delicate features at all. You watch as her gaze drifts , realizing then that you’re still holding her hands.
Pursing her lips Kara yanks them away, almost as if the simple contact burnt her. Her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. Must be the heat, at least that’s what you thought.
“I was getting tired of picking up all the slack. Do you know how many nights I had to stay late? I thought you were supposed to be back last Friday?”
It’s hard not to grin at her, as she folds her arm and gives you a very forced pout. Kara was never one to stay late at the office, unless you were involved.
“Sorry, flight got delayed. By that point Keegan just gave me the rest of the weekend off. Has it been busy?”
“No more than usual, that’s not the point. I’m going to visit my parents this week. I was hoping I would see your before I leave. I can’t leave in good conscience without knowing the second best office worker is here.”
She starts to fiddle with her bracelet, her fingers grazing along the little rose charm.
“Those are some really big words Ms. Clarke. Some would say you’re vying for my spot.”
She shakes her head, looking around the office with its fluorescent lighting and stark white walls. Then to the flowers that adorn your desk. The most colorful thing in such a dull space, well aside from you. “I hope you like them.”
Your gaze follows hers, and nod without a second thought. “How could I not? Beautiful aren’t they?”
You don’t hear the sigh she lets out, or see the smile she sends your way, as you grab a stack of papers to take into the copying room. Kara follows suit, mentioning the recent visitors to the office, the amount of filing she had to do all by her lonesome. Some would say Kara could be dramatic, especially in her retelling of stories. Though you had to admit that was something you always enjoyed about her.
“So, did anything happen?”
“When?” You begin pressing along the screen of the copying machine, content when it actually works. Whirring as it begins to cycle through the papers, and print them out.
“On your vacation.” Kara flips through the extra sheets of paper on the counter top. Little did you know, the only thing she was paying attention to was you. Not the corrections on the files, the whirring of the machine or the warmth of the room.
The only thing she was focused on was the way your eyes crinkle as you smile at her. The way your fingers tap along the screen of the machine, ensuring it prints just enough. The levels of the ink to your liking. The way you rubbed the side of your neck, still trying to fight the stiffness from sitting at your desk for so long.
Shaking your head, leaning a hip against the counter as the papers continue to print, you look at her. Unsure of what shes thinking when she looks at you.
“Nothing out of the ordinary, why?”
She swallows, licking her full lips before grinning at you. “I thought Chris would have asked…”
Her voice cracks, she then begins to cough. To cover what she almost let slip.
“Ask wha-”
“If you wanted to have lunch before I go back home over the weekend. It’s no big deal. Don’t worry about it. I guess you two were just too busy.” She winks at you grabbing the copies before you could manage. Nice save Kara.
“Come on, if we were busy doing...that, why would I tell you?”
Kara rolls her eyes, walking backwards out of the office.
“Kara wai-”
“Ouch!”
You can’t help but stifle a laugh, as Kara turns to see who she ran into. Ignoring the papers that had fallen out of her hands and now litter the floor. “Chris?”
“Hey sis. Really need to watch where you’re going. What if I got hurt? What would you do without me around to save you?”
Kara was about to retort, when she noticed a bouquet of white roses in Chris’s hands. “Where did you-”
“Wait, more flowers? Chris you shouldn’t have. I told you I wasn’t mad about you not coming on the vacation with me.”
Chris side steps Kara and leans in to kiss your cheek.
Kara glances to Chris, then to you holding the flowers so dearly, admiring the beauty of the soft white petals. She folds her arms across her chest and leans against the door frame. “Mom would be proud.” Kara simply says, though part of her realizes it’s said with some contempt. The reason behind that can be thought of on another day.
“Let me go put these in water and we can go for lunch.”
Chris walks towards Kara, leaning against the wall watching MC as they walk happily to place the flowers with the other three bouquets.
“Really beautiful flowers. I honestly had no idea it was even Valentines Day I was just coming to ask them for lunch.” They smile to themselves, pleased with their good luck. Not only did they forget it was Valentine’s Day but in MC’s eyes Chris was more thoughtful than ever. The bouquets were not only a sign of a happy day, but also of an apology for not going on the vacation for the weekend. Yeah no dog house for them.
“How did you get them?” Kara asks, her eyes scanning Chris.
“Ran into Isaac outside. Said they had a delivery, I asked who for. Imagine my surprise when they said MC. Bet I can guess who they’re from.” Chris turns to Kara, a smug expression on their face. They don’t bother to hide their disgust when the name falls from their lips. Cam.
“Cameron.” Chris clicked their tongue.
She doesn’t bother to correct Chris. Even if she did try Chris wouldn’t believe her. They always seem to think the worst of Cam. Regardless of what anyone else says. Chris had always been jealous of their relationship. So much so that it seemed they never considered that someone else may feel something for MC.
She doesn't bother to hide the look on her face when she sees Chris lead MC out of the office, or the feeling inside her gut. One she isn’t quite familiar with, one she isn’t willing to admit.
Kara takes the card out of her pocket and throws it into the bin. The handwritten words to be forgotten, not to see the light of day. Not to sit along the other handwritten cards she so painstakingly filled out earlier in the day. Along with the flowers she had chosen.
A card that simply reads, Happy Valentines Day. With Love, Kara.
#loveandleases#love and leases#kara#valentine's day#snippet#mc isn't the only one to spend it with a lovely woman!#divider by cafekitsune#uh oh chris makes an appearance
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so i made a few edits on this little piece on ao3 and i decide that i will repost it on tumblr because why not? i genuinely love this piece a little bit too much, may post it 100 times a day if i can. so please enjoy. reblogs and comments are appreciated. really. thank you for reading!
you never say "i love you".
you can't.
not to them.
it almost slips out of your mouth sometimes.
like when lucifer gives you a kiss on the forehead while seeing you off at the front door.
like when mammon drags you to his bed after a long long day and gosh, his hug is a little too familiar for you to not push him away and cruelly tell him that you have to go home, this is not your home.
like when levi shows you his newest merchandise with those sparkling eyes and you just sit here watching him screaming non-stop about how hard to get this merchandise and how much he wants you to be the first one to see it.
like when you and satan wander around the town and he introduces you to every stray cat you two meet on the way with such an enthusiastic and loving voice and it never fail to surprise you how quick he gets along with all the cats.
like when asmo takes you out for shopping and keeps holding your hand like he was scared that you're going to get lost, i am much more familiar with devildom than you, you tease. but i can't risk losing my favorite jewel in the crowds, can i?, he replies when intertwining his fingers with yours.
like when beel tries to restrain his hunger just to save you the last bite of his favorite dessert and happily splits it into two only after you reassure him that you're not hungry, but still, he wants to share it with you.
like when belphie asks you to watch the astronomy show with him and falls asleep half way and uses your laps as his pillow while you're caressing his hair.
like all the damn time they whisper "i love you" to you.
do you love them? you' have been asking yourself that question for a long time, since you came to this world, this timeline. from the outside, they look exactly your demons. of course, silly you, of course they look the same, you know they are still your demons. lucifer is still an arrogant asshole, mammon is still your greedy golden retriever, levi is still that shut-in but not shut-down otaku, satan - well, satan is still trying figuring himself out, asmo still says that he loves himself more than anyone else (which his family know too well that is such a lie because he loves them so much he once gave up his angelic beauty), beel is still the family sweet heart and belphie is still the spoiled brat of the family. they're still they. the demons you love. they still call themselves "family". it's just that - you're not a part of that family anymore. are you?
reality hits you hard. every single damn time. you wake up everyday and you're not in that room with a fucking tree as your bed post. you wake up everyday and the kitchen is cold because solomon always wakes up late and you two don't have a thing called "breakfast duty". you wake up everyday and the house is quiet, and people call this place "cocytus hall" and not "house of lamentation". you wake up everyday and you ask yourself, is it okay if you loved them?
even it's a different timeline, even when you don't belong here, even maybe that they're not your demons? you love them.
but you can't say that. you can't say that when you are going to leave them sooner or later. you can't say that when you only accepted to be their attendant and spend time with them in order for you to return to your world. you can't say that when you know all too well that they are going to get mad, they are going to lock you and maybe kill you because the only thing that you did up until now is using them and hurting them. how can they accept that truth? how can you tell them you did all of that just so you can comeback to a world that they will forget about you and not because that you have already loved them so much, you would risk everything you have just so they could be happy in this cruel timeline?. you can't.
because there are the demons who desperately waiting for you to come back to them as much as you desperately waiting for time to come back.
because you love the demons in your own world a little too much for you to say that you love any different versions of them.
because maybe you love those demons whose voices and faces and personalities are so familiar that you don't want them to dive deeper in this.
because you're going to hurt them again and again until their hearts are all bleeding and their souls are dead.
because they will forget abut you when you leave. because you do love them, every version of them, you love them, in every world that they exist.
so you can't say "i love you".
but it almost slips out of your mouth sometimes.
#obey me#obey me nightbringer#obey me spoilers#obey me writing#obey me fanfic#obey me snippet#obey me satan#obey me mammon#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me asmodeus#obey me belphegor#obey me beelzebub#obey me headcanon#mc has internal complex is that even a thing?
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Indie Rock Band MC telling Qiu they can't get back together because they already wrote a banger heartbreak song about them.
Um excuse meeee, this is hilarious and definitely going into the actual game. In some form or other.
(But yeah don't worry, whether or not a version of the snippet below goes into the game or not, Qiu will definitely get to talk to Singer!MC about the songs they wrote that may/may not have been about Qiu. That's a promise 😉)
You smile, picking at the grass in front of you as you sit cross-legged under the shade of a tree. Qiu's sipping on their coconut, staring out at sea, and there's a peacefulness to their entire countenance that you hadn't noticed in the years you'd known them before. Perhaps it's a new development.
You grin, nudging Qiu with your shoulder, already ready to shake up the peace a little. "As much as I'm enjoying our time together," you say, and immediately you see Qiu's expression harden, wary of what you're about to say next. You snort, and reach out for their hand, placing it in your lap. "We can't get back together 'cause I already wrote a banger heartbreak song about you. Was like, #57 on the charts for a week or so."
At this, you feel Qiu finally relax against you, and they roll their eyes with the emphatic force of a typhoon gale. "That's how musicians make money though, jeez," they shake their head at you. "How do you think they generate enough content for multiple albums? They go back to their exes." Qiu scoffs. "You're welcome."
You bark out a laugh, and now, Qiu's smiling. You'd missed the sight. You'd missed the crooked curve of their lips, the twinkle they get in their eyes. Fuck, you missed everything about them.
"So what?" you ask, stretching your legs. "A banger about us falling-back-in-love-again? That's what you want me to write next?"
Qiu's smile broadens till it spans the entire width of their face, and they squeeze your hand. "Is that's what's happening?" they ask softly. "We're falling back in love again?"
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Silence
Sometimes, most times, Jake said more when silence fell between them.
His wandering hands spoke for him, fingers talking in shivering whispers as they trailed across her flushed, pebbled skin. His secret smirk revealed everything he felt for her, love and desire etched into every laughing line, and he heard it echoed back in her matching smile.
The arch of his brow, a slight quirk of his mouth, and the roguish glint in his eye were a lure she could never resist.
He could say much, doing so little. Through tiny tempting touches, and his electric eyes on hers, it was all there. Loud and crystal clear.
Manon was an expert at reading him, and he had her memorized.
He told her he loved her in so many ways that she was fluent in many silent tongues.
He was a safe, soft place for her to fall when her world was aflame, and nothing went her way.
And he was the wildness, the chaos, and dangerous desire when their world was bright and open, beautiful.
If Manon had her way, she’d tell the entire world he was hers and lay claim to him.
It was only fair. He already possessed her body and soul.
Jake didn’t forbid her from doing a damn thing, but he loved to fight her when she went on a martyr rampage. It was incredible how effortlessly he could ease her into a placid mood.
Her fiery, tempestuous nature often ate through her threadbare patience, and he knew how to soothe it. But would never attempt to tame her.
She could only show her love how she fought.
Full of fire, clawing hands, and biting teeth.
Manon wanted to carve a space for herself amongst his bones.
Engrave their initials in the ivory.
Lounge in the deepest, darkest parts of him so she could seek out the lingering shadows within him and comfort them.
—————
I’m writing vows for them and had to write something to get into the mindset. Felt like sharing it ❤️
Violence - Jakes feelings/thoughts toward my MC
#snippet#jake x mc#jake x oc#duskwood fanfic#duskwood#duskwood jake#duskwood mc#fanfiction#writing#duskwood fanfiction#duskwood fandom#duskwood everbyte#my writing#fluff and romance#women writers#creative writers#link in pinned post#Marked Me Like a Bloodstain#Paper Rings and Dirty Dreams
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Fiz bandeira de um velho ditado
Alessa stares out into a deep, red sunset. Clouds shred the skies in strokes of gold, and a band of pigeons flies overhead, the sound of their wings flapping like the whispers of forbidden gods.
She can hear the murmur of a dozen voices behind her, muffled by the walls of the brightly-lit inn but no less boisterous.
Ahead, there's a view fit for a painting. Alessa inhales the fresh air, blue eyes watching the last light of a dying day. She is used to being cold, but Alessa finds herself shivering at the approaching night. 'Tis a beautiful view.
And she has none to share it with.
Melhor só que mal acompanhado
One hand grips a patched satchel.
The other holds the only possession Harian could take with him. His black sword. He's panting, sweat drips from his forehead, and the blood pounding against his eardrums yells at him to keep going. But when Hadrian reaches the apex of the hill, he comes to a stunned stop.
The land opens before him.
Behind, too close, so far away, are the high walls of his Order. Hadrian almost looks back; he almost goes back. Instead, he makes his legs take another step. And then another. And one other after that. For the first time in his life, Hadrian walks alone.
Nem pensava em apoiar, Os pés no chão
She crawls out from the ashes, lungs burning, eyes watering, throat like the hottest pit of hell. Her skin is red agony, her muscles shredded, her tendons torn, her heart beating out of pure spite.
Neia, the former Dawnseeker, takes a deep, ragged, pain-filled breath. And then, she screams.
A dark cloud of crows scatters away from her.
A specter rises to her feet, scorched, blood too dry to bleed, yelling still. When Neia has no more air left in the pitiful excuse for her lungs, she looks at her grave — the charred remains of a holy pyre. There is no one else.
She's reborn alone.
Olho em volta, Agora estou sozinho
The ocean is a flat, moving plain, stretching to impossible horizons.
A dozen, two scores, half a hundred vessels surround him like a curved wall. The Pirate stands at the bow of his ship, the figurehead braving the waters, nine fingers holding the damp-wooden railing. Lights shine from a hundred different windows, replicating the cold glow of the millions of stars above.
The ocean breeze is calm. He inhales the salt-filled air.
His armada.
The Pirate smiles, but his dark eyes do not glint. His armada, and his alone.
Não liguei às placas do caminho
On the top floor of a high, impossible tower, two windows sit on opposite ends. One faces south, the other north. There is no corridor connecting the two, no hidden passage, no hall or arched hallway. The rooms are sealed in the impregnable way only dreamed rooms can ever be.
In the room facing north sits a young, brown-eyed girl with curls for hair and a beautiful golden gown for clothes. Ysbaella sits with her skirts spread around her and stares out her window, watching the world below move and go on and on and on.
In the south-facing room, a young boy twirls a broken quill between too-short fingers. He sits by the window, but he doesn't look outside. He stares instead at an empty journal. Alain can't find any ink to write.
The twins wait for dawn, for the dream to be over. Each of them alone.
Nem parei p'ra perguntar a direção
The door closes with a thud that spells finality.
Rafael slumps on his chair. His body is a distant thing now, beyond the grip of pain. Exhaustion closes in, and Rafael wants to heed its siren call, for it would be so easy. Close your eyes. Close his eyes and let go. Let go...
Distantly, he feels an ache on his side. It's not pain; he can't feel pain right now. Rafael looks down and sees the red expanding on his wraps. Blood. He was stabbed. His eyelids half-close. It would be so easy...
But Rafael twists his lips in a hateful sneer and clings to consciousness. Clings to life. To hell with them all. He's lived so far; he can cling on a little more.
The would-be thief looks around the room — his cell. Dark and cold.
And completely deserted.
Olá, Solidão
You raise your chin and face the mirror.
Candlelight glows from behind, casting your silhouette in warm golden lines. Shadows play with your chin and jaw, your forehead, and the ridge of your nose. Your hair is wet, clinging to your neck, and your mouth is but a faint streak in the gloom.
The whites of your eyes glint with the scarce glow as if they hold a light of their own.
You stare at the mirror, but it's not your face you see.
It is hers.
Olá, Solidão
The bard puts the lyre aside, the last remnants of the song echoing like ghosts in the air.
Lance unfolds his legs and rolls his shoulders, getting rid of the soreness of his muscles. His left hand is cramping, but he pays it little mind. The pain pales in comparison to the one pulsing from his back.
He is proud of this song, but there is no applause.
Lance looks around the small, narrow room with a sad smile. It is empty, of course. He plays for an audience of one: himself.
- - -
Song: Olã, Solidão by Os Quatro e Meia
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"How much?"
The question, asked evenly by Zaphia, who stands just a step apart from you, makes you shiver and your eyes widen.
"How much could you give me?" Zaphia repeats, with the same levelled intonation.
Something akin to frantic need claws at you, makes your words almost falter in haste.
"Everything. I would give you everything," you step closer, your chest burning and your eyes almost delirious when you delicately brush your claws over their smooth collarbone and neck.
"I would give you a collar made of diamonds-"
You breathe heavily, your mind frantically building pictures of Zaphia kept safely in your hoard, the most precious possession you could ever imagine to have.
"I would buy you customised clothes. I would buy you sweets and food and feed it to you. I would buy you pillows and silk sheets to keep you in my nest-"
You are almost clinging to Zaphia, begging, possessed by the need to provide and hysterical at their clear desire for all their needs to be met.
Zaphia, eventually, smiles, white teeth glinting. "If you did that, I would let you keep me forever."
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There’s a severe lack of Sebas asks, my husband deserves so much love 😤 Can you tell us how he met the MC ? What made him so interested ?
i agree, bonnie 😞 our resident wet cat journalist deserves some love and attention too <3 i’ll just give y’all a not-so-little snippet of the scene in which they met. spoiler warning since this will be present in the game:
‘this is the worst fucking day of my career,’ sebastián thought bitterly.
the clouds thunder heavily in the night. rain drops fall in tandem with the unrelenting wind which makes the trees sway surrounding the road. the whole atmosphere was miserably cold and wet.
every single bone in sebas’s body hurt like crazy. he wonders why the hell did he even try to fight off the muggers, they outnumbered him by a lot and he had multiple cuts and bruises to show for it. darkness threatens to encroach his vision but he fought it off. he knew he’d really end up dead if he let his growing fatigue overpower him.
but hope was dwindling inside him. no one was going to come looking for him. it’s not like he had many friends. the only man he even dared to call a friend had gone missing weeks ago. and now sebastian was going to end up joining him too. the only difference was that they never found henry, while they’d find his body on the side of this abandoned road.
his stomach growls and a weary sigh leaves his body. what he wouldn’t give for a warm meal right now. maybe a bowl of his mom’s homemade chicken soup.
“you’ve been working hard again, mijo,” she’d tut while running her fingers through his shaggy dark hair. “díos mio, you worry your poor mother too much.”
a broken sob threatens to leave his throat. sebas knew he made for a pathetic sight. it was his fault he ended up in this situation after all, and he could not change it no matter what.
the stab wound on the side of his stomach stings and almost makes him blackout as he tries, in vain, to keep it from bleeding out. his assailants had made sure that he couldn’t go for help, even if he tried to crawl to the nearest hospital.
this is it. this is where he dies. this is where the short life of sebastián rafael navarro ends. shivering and sobbing on the side of an abandoned road while he dreams of a warm meal and a life unfulfilled.
suddenly, the screech of a pair of tires halt his increasingly pessimistic musing. he vaguely notices the touch of a gloved hand on his neck and wrist, checking for a pulse. sebastián wonders if he’s already dead and is currently being examined by an angel. he questions himself if they can feel how faint his pulse is, how faint he feels.
sebas hears them curse, and he wonders if angels are allowed to do that. struggling to open his eyes against the onslaught of the rain, he manages to catch a glimpse of a white coat and a face which makes his breath catch in his throat. he decides that his angel theory didn’t seem so ridiculous after all.
“it’ll be okay. i’ll take care of you.”
it is the last thing he hears before he feels himself fall unconscious while the ‘angel’ hauls him up with an unnatural strength and places him on a warm leather seat.
#asks#how could sebas be not infatuated with the MC?#thet literally saved his life#especially when most people around him have treated him like shit#what lovely bones#bonnie nonnie#ro: sebastián navarro#ch: the killer#ro scenarios#snip goes the snippets#spoiler tings
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Can you share a snippet of your writing please? It doesn't have to be from the game but I'm just a bit curious!
Sure! Here's a (very short and completely unedited) flashback scene that I wrote that didn't end up making the final cut. It takes place back when MC was at school so it has a few characters that you won't recognize!
It begins with pain and ends with darkness.
You came back into reality just as you had left it (“Well not exactly as you had left it” the ache in your bones reminds you softly), unsure and exhausted, with the light blinding your unopened eyes. The urge to open them briefly crosses your mind but the thought of having to put actual energy towards anything quickly turned that desire into nothing more than a passing thought.
“You still alive, mate? I don’t have a eulogy written up quite yet so if you could hold out just a bit longer I’d really appreciate it.”
Alistair’s teasing words fall over you like a soothing balm, the familiar sound of his voice sinking into your skin like a long-lost friend. It was admittedly an overdramatic thought if not a ridiculous one - most of the time you and the rest of your friends couldn’t get him to shut the hell up. Still, there was something comforting about the fact that he stayed despite…everything (“despite you” says someone that sounds very much like yourself).
“It happened again, didn’t it?”
A beat passes after your words. Then another one. And one soon after that. Eventually though…
“…yeah, it did. It wasn’t that bad this time though. Nothing got destroyed - nothing that can’t be replaced, that is.”
So you didn’t hurt anyone. That’s always a bonus. Still there were some lingering questions.
“…where’d we end up?”
Another beat, then another voice. Soft and Uncertain. Fearful but Unwaveringly Fond.
“Not too far from the academy, thank the lord. Erm we’ll still need to use a teleportation spell though. One of us can do it for you if you’re not up to it.”
The thought of casting any magicae after what just happened was a (“terrifying” the voice mocks) miserable thought. Still you give a swift shake of your head, forcing your eyes open as you do so. The blue of the sky meets your gaze but a quick series of blinks reveals it to just be Lena's eyes - you knew if you turned to the other side you’d meet the familiar green of Alistair’s. You push yourself up pretending it isn’t odd to think about your friends’ eyes with such intensity.
Lena offers you a shaky but not uncertain (and never ever fearful) hand, and with strength that you’re surprised you still have, you take it gratefully, pulling yourself to your feet - stretching out aching bones and wobbly knees. Alistair grins at you from where he sits nearby, his expression a mix of relief and amusement.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," he says, reaching out to clap you on the shoulder. "Or whatever passes for it, considering the circumstances."
You scoff and then snort. A lurking shadow in the background catches your eye and something like amusement and annoyance stumbles into your bones and out of your lips. Some would call it a laugh. You’d call it an experienced reaction to the person in front of you.
“What, you're not happy to see me? Here I am, spending my very precious time making sure you don’t destroy anything during one of your little fits, and you go ahead and laugh at me. Honestly, where’s the appreciation I deserve?”
Caspian’s voice is arrogant. It’s snarky. It’s even cruel in some ways. But it’s also so loyal. So fond. (“Of you” a voice says softly. It’s the same one as before but it’s also so so different).
You try to think of a witty response but eventually give up, deciding to focus your energy on leaning against Lena for support, the memories of the recent blackout begin to flood back. It was a close call this time, with your magicae threatening to spiral out of control once again. The fear of causing irreversible damage always looms over you like a dark cloud, but having your friends by your side eases the burden, if only slightly. (“But how long can this really last?” the thing you're trying to ignore asks).
#writing snippet#scene#flashback#answered#anon ask#ask#author: oracle#character: mc#ro: Caspain#arcanus archives#Arcanus
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TSR Snippet - A Tired Day
Warning: Contains angsts and self-loathing for MC!
It's been three days since I lost them.
Two nights since I last had a good night's rest.
And merely an hour since the final day of the funeral was over.
The rain is heavy, the air is cold and everything just seems so...numb.
I stare at the doorknob in front of me, connected to my new apartment that Benefactor decided to give me as a gift.
"You don't have a place to live in, right? Just take up this one. Don't worry about rent. Consider this an investment."
I still don't get why ze wants to hire me. But I don't have much in me to question further, nor the choice to refuse the offer. The cops went and turned my old apartment into a crime scene and, because of it, the landlord blames me for the 'mess' and 'noisy ruckus' that she doesn't even let me grab my stuff to properly move out.
"Get out before you get more of my tenants killed!"
I finally gather enough energy to grasp the doorknob and twist it, swinging open the door.
The new apartment is brand new, which is surprising already. There's no odd smell or broken hinges, nor are the flooring and walls marred with past damages from previous tenants or residents.
Everyone would love this place.
I stop just before the flooring and begin pulling my feet out of their shoes.
"Welcome home, [Name]!"
I lift up my head.
But no one is there, no one waiting in front of me.
I squeeze my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose. I must be imagining things.
Even lifting my feet feels so heavy as I take my first step in unfamiliar territory. I don't even make it to the couch. I simply let my body drop onto the floor and let the weight sink me against the wooden surface.
"[Name]! What are you doing?"
I lift my head slightly, eying a familiar pair of feet and legs.
"You shouldn't be sleeping here! Come on, get up. I'm bringing you to bed."
"No..." I wave her off. But her voice persists. I can even tell there's a pout on her somehow, like a faint presence with significant warmth.
"No, you're not going to sleep here!"
Hands wrap around my arm and in that brief moment, I feel bits of warmth. I move my hand to grasp for that warmth.
I only touch my own fingers.
I blink and find myself facing the empty space.
I could have sworn-
I close my eyes and refuse to let that thought go on. I prop myself up with my arms and exhaustively move off of the floor. Feeling particularly heavy, I look down at my clothes, heavily soaked from the rain outside.
Shower.
I close my eyes and sigh. I can imagine Maverick telling me with a stern gaze, more worried about me catching a cold than getting the floor dirty with my drenched self.
Then I laugh. I laugh and laugh and laugh as something warm and fresh run down my cheeks while my head tears apart with its wound, the pain my only source of relief in this bleak oblivion.
I make my way to where I believe the bathroom to be. It is a small apartment, fit for one person. The Benefactor has mentioned there to be two bathrooms - one for guests, the other a personal one.
I step into the bedroom, opting for the personal bathroom. I turn on the lights.
The bedroom isn't much, but it is at least furnished. A king's size bed, a bedroom closet, a window overlooking the night sky and a door of what I imagine to be the bathroom. The walls and floor are in cool colours; not too bright to hurt the eyes nor too dark to be absorbed by it.
It feels so big to stay here.
I continue my walk for the bathroom, my clothes already sticking against my body with its soaked embrace. In spite of my wet state, I move over to the bathroom sink and my face with the water in the hopes it was cold like the one in our previous apartment.
No surprise, it's warm. I raise my head to look at the mirror.
Enid's eyes stare back at me.
Guilt and pain consumes me and I headbutt against the mirror, a resounding crack echoing against the bathroom walls.
Something crimson runs down my face, around my nose and off my chin. My reflection stares back at me, my own eyes blazing.
Why?
Why did it have to be them?
It should have been you, I hear my voice. Whether that's reflection talking or me saying it...I can't even tell anymore.
But the heartache is still there, reminding me of all that I lost.
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Mammon and MC are currently hiding from the rest of the demon brothers after Mammon’s latest scheme went horribly wrong.
MC: I knew that helping you was a mistake.
Mammon: But you always help me when I come up with these ideas!
MC: I know. It’s my favorite kind of mistake, because I’m with you.
Mammon: *beginning to blush* ...Oh.
#mammon hopes mc will never learn from this “mistake”#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mammon#obey me mc#snippet#dialogue
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Chapter One Snippet:
Note: unedited as always lol.
Carter shakes your hand and grins. His teeth are so bleached, you’re honestly surprised that you can’t see through them.
“You know, I’d say that you’ve been avoiding me, Colonel,” he drawls.
You laugh like Carter has said the funniest thing you've ever heard and Killian shoots you a fierce warning look that you rather cheerfully ignore.
"You know, it is astounding to me that someone of your room temperature IQ could actually figure out that I'm avoiding them."
Carter blinks rapidly for a few seconds, proving your point about the IQ, before his face blooms ruddy in anger. Killian immediately steps in as the mediator.
"I apologise for the colonel, their sense of humour is an acquired taste," they start steering Carter away from you, talking the man's ear off and sufficiently confusing him enough that he completely forgets to be angry at you.
Carter's assistant, whose name you never bothered to learn however, is much sharper than their boss. Although, not by much. Slightly above room temperature you'd gander. They push their glasses up and turn that steely gaze on you.
"I weep for the state of humanity if you're the best we have to offer."
The smirk never leaves your face even as, on the inside, you want to...
[[Punch them in the face. Who the hell do they think they are?]]
[[Lash out. What exactly are they doing for the sake of humanity?]]
[[Laugh in their face. Carter's personal ass licker is looking down their nose at you? Priceless.]]
[[Cry. It's strange, but those words just hit far too close to home.]]
[[Internalise everything. Put on a totally blank expression and just watch them squirm.]]
[[You have no desire to react. The opinion of a glorified babysitter is worthless to you.]]
*Flavour text from above choice.*
Instead, you simply ask them a question.
"Are you okay?" Mock sympathy coats your tone.
They shift on their feet and clear their throat, before nodding sharply. "Of course. Why?"
You shrug, "just figured that someone as full of shit as you should probably see a doctor."
Before they can utter a word in response, you turn around and walk away, whistling for Dog to come to heel.
You'll probably have a complaint put in against you, but you'll also probably be violently killed by a Kaiju soon, so that's honestly the least of your worries right now.
#snippet#chapter 1#twitm demo#ro: killian#i heard someone say ‘room temperature iq’ and i haven’t been the same since#mc being a bitch is my fav thing to write
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CHILL?
MC lobbed a dodgeball and then Ms. V launched a nuke back
#Ms. V: first impressions are important we all need to keep up appearances#Ms. V as soon as you two are mostly alone: remember how your house burned down and killed your parents#uncalled for LOIS#R please come pick me up your mom is gonna make me cry#I should've picked JR for the candle lighting to piss her off more#missed opportunity#fernweh saga#I love Ms. V but my MCs? they do not lmao#if snippets#I've never had an MC with such high snark this early I've been missing out on gold#only one achievement left what am I supposed to do with my life afterwards#fernweh saga spoilers
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dr. zayne "i'll use my body as payment" and "i always pay my debts" is all bark bark woof woof at first but then i remember his Myths and -
or, what you (i) would like to say the moment zayne decides its a good time to self-sacrifice
i hold his hand tightly, pull him back into a tight embrace because No, you don't have to, you don't have to do this zayne. there is no situation dire enough to come to pass in this world that should warrant that extreme a sacrifice
do you think you going on there and freezing yourself so you can stop a Wanderer attack will make tomorrow a little brighter? do you think its only you specifically who can save us all from the worst case scenario and save the world? dr im-so-brilliant-i-finished-medical-school-and-got-a-license-in-the-time-it-takes-someone-to-sneeze?
i dont want your sacrifice! i dont want to walk on roads paved with your bones. i dont fucking want to live in cities thawing from your frost because you thought unleashing a blizzard only you could do and wiping yourself out in the process would be a brilliant move to protect them. i dont want to take the cup that holds your blood, i do not want to have to look at the world and see you only in memory.
i want you here. i want you holding my hand. i want you poking at my forehead because i didnt bring enough warm clothes again or because i wasnt able to take my meds on time again or because i freaked out you werent calling when you shouldve -
i want to be there to bandage your wounds. i want you bandaging my wounds
you are the most selfless, kindhearted, driven, and dedicated person i know. your bravery is second to none - most infuriatingly so whenever you think you can save even just one soul but please!! dont ever fucking think you have to carry that burden alone.
remember that time you managed to parry that Wanderer attack and reminded me consistently of it for three days? do you remember? because i do! every day. every goddamn day i go out to do my work and you do yours, it all rattles in my head. you told me that i could rest easy because you have my back. that whatever happens, safety is a priority.
you told me that im not fighting alone anymore. i cried at that, remember? and you did too, you sentimental shmuck
so why the hell do you think you have to do it all alone? what kind of mental gymnastics did your brilliant brain do for you to reach the conclusion that its okay to leave me behind when youre out there fighting for the world, for Linkon, for us
for me?
i want you fighting with me, please
please
pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease
dont do it. dont go -
let me fight with you too
#im imagining MC yelling their heart out in this#no i have not yet read his myths I AM SCARED#but also work has me in a chokehold#love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#theres so many tags for lad writing im just gonna have to stick to one#my lad#ythmir writes#i have only read his chapter 01#i have upgraded both his cards#i have all the resources#except the courage and emotional capacity to be wrecked#i have seen snippets of whats going though#and i have heard the voiced stories in game#so i have an inkling#i know im gonna be sobbign by the end of it#ythmir fanfics
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