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the-red-thread-that-strangles · 12 days

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Rei is late for the first time since he's started working at Poirot.

Neither terrorism attacks nor hostage crises have affected his being on time. Not even a runaway horse managed to keep him.

But he spends one night with Akai Shuichi, and his perfect record is ruined. Asshole.

Despite his calling ahead, Azusa gives him a worried look. He stops briefly to give her a mock-embarrassed apology, turning up the charm. Promises he won't be late again. Then he's off to the storage room.

He needs to fetch his ingredients and get to baking.

Rei's going to find Akai and strangle him, just as soon as his shift is over.

Roughly 12 hours earlier.

There's a gun aimed right between his eyes.

That in itself is nothing unusual. The situation could be worse, really.

After all, his own gun is pointed right back at Akai Shuuichi's annoyingly smug face. At this distance, he'll be able to read his movement, react in time. He'd rather talk, but if the sniper fires, Rei will drag him into hell too.

Blood for blood. Mutually assured destruction.

(His excitement is slightly dampened by the fact he's rather certain Akai won't kill him.)

"Caught you." Rei can't help the satisfaction slipping into his voice.

Finally. After three years, their game of cat and mouse is over. He'll have his answers.

The most pressing of which-

"Where's Scotch?"

The words cut into the silence, sharpened by fear. His best friend might still be dead, after all. (If he isn't, why hasn't he contacted Rei?)

It's not like he has much to go on to suspect he's alive, besides the fact that Akai himself came back from the dead. Rei can only hope he brought Hiro along.

Before Akai answers, there's a click. The world becomes dizzyingly bright, expanding past the muzzles of their guns.

Rei blinks the disorientation away. Spots silhouettes from the corner of his eyes. He hasn't met them before, but he's familiar, of course, with the owners of this house. How long have the Kudos been watching them?

While he's busy processing that revelation, Akai holsters his gun. Part of Rei hates how nonchalant Akai is about all of this, exposing himself so easily. Like Rei isn't a threat, won't put a bullet in his head because of a couple of witnesses. (Hates that he's probably right.)

"I propose a trade. For old time's sake."

(The words leave a bitter taste with Rei. They haven't exchanged anything, not goods, not words, not warmth, in years.)

Akai snaps open a cheap flip phone - likely a burner. His thumb hovers over the call button. The fingers of his other hand, long and dextrous, wrap around the barrel of Rei's P7M8, tugging gently, but insistently.

Rei considers his options. He holds no illusions - without his gun, he won't be able to dispatch Akai. But he's more than capable of holding his own for long enough to escape, if need be.

(He could just fire, right now. It wouldn't have to be lethal. Could take the phone by force. But chances are, whatever information Akai has, he'll be much less willing to share it with a bullet wound.)

Rei looks up at Akai, meets his green, green eyes. The part of him that shows genuine emotions, some days. (Not that Rei is one to talk.)

Finds Akai looking...tired. He wears a small smile, but it's worn around the edges. There's no open mockery, no quiet amusement. It's just the two of them, and an offer.

Rei lets go of the gun. He hopes he won't be needing it, tonight.

Akai helps him up, his hand warm and steady. As soon as he's upright, Rei lets go - he can walk perfectly fine by himself, thank you very much.

The FBI agent shows him to the living room, tells Rei to make himself a home. After all, the Kudos have promised to give him some privacy, for his chat.

For a moment, the sniper lingers, gaze caught by the phone. Then Akai casts his eyes down, and leaves Rei alone.

Silence, if not for the crackle of the damned fireplace, fills the room. Rei hesitates for a moment. Then he presses 'call' for the only number in the directory.

The phone crackles with static, beeps as it establishes connection, then-

"Hi, Zero."

The world stops moving. Relief floods his system, sapping the tension from his muscles. He leans against the soft backrest, breathing freely for the first time in a good long while.

Their talk is short. Rei asks some questions to establish it's truly Hiro, not an imposter (though that would make a very poor basis for the negotiation the Kudos have planned).

Hiro tersely explains some things, although he isn't allowed to give away much. He's in the FBI's witness protection program. That they're talking at all is a massive bending of the rules, authorized only because of Akai's insistence. He claimed it was of critical importance to their mission.

It certainly is, to Rei.

The next hours are a blur.

The sofa dips when Akai sits down at his side, the Kudos already having taken their seats on the other side of the small coffee table. (He wishes Akai would sit farther away. That he be less reasonable in his assumptions and demeanour.)

It's somewhat surreal to think that celebrity actress Kudo Yukiko of all people gives him a steaming cup of chamomile lavender honey tea. Good thing working with Vermouth has knocked most of the starstruck behaviour out of him; his younger self would have made a fool of himself.

He can't afford that. After all, they are seeking him out in an official capacity, requesting PSB senior agent Furuya Rei's cooperation.

It certainly is strange for them to reach out through him, considering his known enmity of Akai. But he's a professional - he might be reluctant to work with the man, but it's not his decision to make. He'll relay the offer, unless it's utter garbage.

So he pays attention while they share what they can of their plan to take down the organisation. Listens to their pledge for equal contribution, and their promise of crediting the PSB with a successful operation; an obvious play intended to soothe the wounded pride of the Japanese, after years of illegal activity. But it's the least they can do.

If one were to ask Rei, the offer is certainly worth considering. The PSB has been working the case for five years now, and while they have gathered intel, and managed to place Bourbon as a vital asset, they're barely closer to shutting the organization down than when they started. It's sprawling, interconnected with various businesses, and, worst of all, active internationally. If they don't cut off all its heads at the same time, odds are the members will simply flee to a different branch. Maybe lie low for a bit, and then go about their business with renewed vigour.

It seems like an international cooperation might just be necessary to achieve this task. So he'll be their messenger; it's above his pay grade to decide whether to take them up on the offer or not.

Though privately, he hopes his superiors agree; every day they lose ground to the organization. By this point, Rei doesn't really care anymore whose plan it is that finally does the organization in, as long as it gets done. (And as long as he and the PSB are finally treated with the appropriate amount of respect.)

Still, he can't help thinking they wouldn't be having this conversation now, if these foreign agencies had respected the official channels ahead of time. Maybe Hiro could be hiding in Nagano then, with his brother, instead of being confined to the other half of the globe. In the US, of all the terrible places to be. He shivers.

By the time they're done it's very late. Rei is already half-dozing off, despite his best efforts to stay awake. It would be highly irresponsible to drive in this state, so he's asked their hosts for a coffee (he's sure a place housing Akai will have more than enough of it to go around). He'll just rest his eyes for a moment, until they're back.

Something light is being dropped on him, almost stirs him to consciousness. But it's warm, soft, and smells of huddling together in an abandoned apartment.

(Of long-forgotten small comforts.)

Not a threat.

Thus satisfied, his body collects its due, and he's dragged back under, into deep, dreamless sleep.

Which brings Rei to the reason he's late.

Someone, and he has a very good idea of who it was, put his phone in airplane mode, drew all the curtains shut, and kept the rest of the house quiet.

(Let him sleep for as long as he needed to.)

So Rei wakes up with a start, in a barely familiar place, the digital clock on the wall indicating it's way past opening time for Poirot. Shit.

He grabs his belongings, pistol, clothes and keys and all, and dashes out the door. He swears he can see Okiya - no, Akai, he was right, damn it - look down on him from that favourite window of his. Asshole. Contrary to him Rei has a job, a cover to maintain. He'll get back at him, yet.

It should probably worry him that he can perform the drive to Poirot on autopilot. Too many late-night stakeouts turning into impromptu naps, requiring him to drive straight to work after. So much trouble, over nothing. If Akai had just cooperated sooner-

Then, what? Rei hadn't managed to track him down before his supposed death, and the less interaction there is between Okiya Subaru and Amuro Tooru, the better for both of them. He grinds his teeth, barely manages to brake in time for a redlight.

(Hates that he understands the caution, to a degree.)

The universe really is conspiring against him, today.

After the lunchtime rush, a certain pocket-sized detective is ushered in through the door, followed by his guardian and her best friend. The kid gives him odd looks all throughout ordering lunch, too sharp in a way that makes the hairs at the back of his neck stand in up. Rei gives him his sunniest smile, and an extra packet of sugar. He's played games with Gin and Vermouth in worse conditions; he won't yield to a particularly precocious six-year-old.

Despite getting more sleep than the last three nights combined, he's not feeling too well. A single good night's rest can't undo weeks of insomnia. If anything, it only makes apparent what he's lacking.

He finds his mind wandering, glad the preparation of food comes automatically, by now. Whisk and mix and pour. Fry, remove from the pan...

"...uro? You seem unwell."

Too-familiar green eyes stare back at him, bags under the eyes and all. Rei barely manages not to flinch.

Of all the people to catch him spacing out, it just has to be Akai's little sister. The gods must truly hate him.

"Ah, miss Sera. I apologize, I was just pondering some new options for our menu." He winks, gives her his most dazzling smile. "The chamomile lavender honey tea cake has me under its spell."

In response, she just wrinkles her nose, unimpressed. Squints at him with those jade eyes that always see through him too easily.

"Are you sure you're not running a fever? It seems a little warm in here already, yet you're working in a sweater."

Rei blinks at that. The temperature seems fine to him. Azusa hasn't said anything about it either.

"I appreciate the concern, but I assure you, I'm perfectly fine. Now, what can I get you?"

One slice of red velvet cake (of course - why did they even keep that on the menu?) and a macchiato later he's rid of her.

For now, at least - she's joined her friends at the window seats, and judging by the way she keeps sneaking glances at him when she thinks he isn't looking, he hasn't seen the last of her yet.

Still, her questions are odd. Surely he doesn't look that terrible?

(Vermouth has taught him some of her secrets; he's been concealing the shadows under his eyes for a while now. Nobody's ever found him out. Why is it now that people notice?)

He continues to work mindlessly, unfocused. This damn shift just doesn't seem to want to end.

He just about manages to avoid knocking Ran out for leaning over the counter, into his space. She remains blissfully unaware of the danger she just escaped, smiling brightly, kindly.

"Excuse me, I have a question."

Rei closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, counts to four. Smiles at the girl. "Go ahead", he says, continuing to whisk some cake batter.

Ran leans in closer, conspiratorially.

"Masumi is too shy to ask" - that's a bold-faced lie, if he's ever heard one, and he's something of an expert on the matter - "but she'd love to know where you got that sweater."

Now, Ran's a lovely young lady, always eager to help. It's a pity she's being manipulated for Sera's gain. Because there has to be more to the question, even if Rei can't see it yet.

Of course, he can't tell the girls the truth - Kazami bought it for Bourbon's cover. But the best lies are closest to the truth, so-

"I apologize, but I do not know where it was bought. A friend gave it to me." His best calculated-apologetic smile smoothes the blow, hopefully.

"Oh. I see." Ran visibly deflates. Still, her good manners prevail. "Thank you, though!" And with that, she's heading back to her table.

Strange. What could Sera possibly want with his sweater? If she wanted to track him down, surely there's more efficient ways, and it's not like he doesn't have a dozen similar cream sweaters-

Wait. Cream?

Rei's pretty sure he dressed in black to infiltrate the Kudo manor. He's not been home and he hasn't changed for work.

He manages to supress a groan, but he's sure there's some unpleasant emotion visible on his face.

...he must have grabbed the sweater along with the rest of his belongings in the morning rush.

Now that he's looking at it, it's clearly a little too large for him. It's also warm, fuzzy, soft, and utterly unoffensive. That's probably why it didn't register, before.

The sweater does smell decidedly of Akai - cigarettes and a hint of his obnoxious aftershave. The warm scent of curry is new - though unsurprising, given his foray into cooking. Great. That's why they've been staring at him. Sera probably recognizes the sweater and Conan spends enough time with Akai to recognize the scent.

His gut instinct is to go change, right now, get rid of the damning piece of connection to the man he has too many conflicting emotions about. But a long-sleeved black turtleneck is hardly appropriate work attire for Poirot. Besides, if he changes now, the pair of detectives watching him will just have their suspicions confirmed.

So he grits his teeth, takes in a deep breath that smells too much like Akai, and gets back to work.

Rei does change out of the sweater as soon as he's done with his shift.

(It doesn't help. The scent lingers.)

He's tempted to just toss the sweater, but can't help feeling like it would be a waste. It's quality craftsmanship, well-worn but taken care of - this kind of sweater would pill, otherwise.

It really shouldn't be faulted for its owner's flaws.

So he puts the sweater in a bag, intending to have it dry-cleaned and give it back later.

He should really hunt down Akai, too, but if he's honest, he's just too tired. He probably shouldn't even drive, in his condition, but he needs to get to a safe place, to think about the developments of the night.

He reports to Kuroda, showers thoroughly, and falls into bed.

Rei can't have slept long. The sunset colours the world in blood red hues by the time he wakes up, out of breath, heartbeat too fast.

Visions of smoke and ash cling to him. Explosions, destroying him one by one, until nothing remains but death alone.

Hagiwara and Matsuda, taken by violent flame.

Hiro's remains, crushed and burnt beyond recognition.

Akai's smile, grimly defiant, as he's shot by Kir. He too finds his end in a blaze, lacking glory.

They're gone.

Consumed by the inferno that seems to follow Rei around. Which burns everything he cares about, leaves him freezing in its wake.

(He can't even cry, his tears evaporating in the heat.)

Rei shivers, draws the blankets closer. Hopes for a little bit of cover, a little bit of warmth.

Please. If he could just shake off the nausea. If he could stop his spiralling thoughts. Logically, he knows that's not all true, even if his heart burns. Akai and Hiro aren't dead.

It's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie, they're alive, it's a lie a lie a lie a lie-

A set of sharp barks rips him out of his thoughts, back into the present.

Oh. He's woken Haro.

The little guy stands in front of his bed, ears tucked back and hackles raised. A defiant ball of fluff that cares so much, trying to growl the nightmares away.

(It might just work.)

Slowly, shaking and somewhat off-balance, he reaches down to scoop up his dog. Wiggles the blanket off his shoulders so he may cradle the whining bundle of fur to his chest. It's soothing, to feel the warmth of another living being by his side. They sit, the silence permeated by Haro's huffed breaths. His body heat seeps into Rei's chest, nestles in his heart.

"I apologize for worrying you. I'll be fine, soon."

He's not alone.

Haro nudges his hand, demands to be pet. Rei obliges, of course he does.

He's not alone.

Still, the headache is a pain. He won't be able to go back to sleep like this, will need to grab a painkiller.

He makes his way to the kitchen counter, keeping to the walls because he's still somewhat unsteady, carrying his bundle of warmth along.

The dog throws a fit as they pass the bag with Akai's sweater, growling and yapping at it. Despite the circumstances, Rei can't help but smile.

"I'm glad to see we feel the same way about him."

Wait.

Inspiration strikes in the form of a very stupid idea.

Because that sweater, with its stupid mixed scents, reeking of Akai, is proof he didn't just imagine last night's events. Tangible and olfactory and physical proof. If he were to wake from a nightmare, with it by his side...the anger at Akai would surely keep the pain at bay.

It's worth a try.

When he goes back to bed, Haro lies down beside him. Rei keeps petting him, one-handedly. With the other, he holds on to a cream sweater that isn't his.

When he breathes, it smells of too-long stakeouts in windy apartments.

Of Rye's extra blankets, the ones he started to bring when he noticed Bourbon always freezing; irritating to no end, how he was always better prepared for cold weather than Rei.

(It smells of Bourbon's cooking, given in exchange for soft blankets.)

Scents of a tentative alliance, as thread-bare as the fabric between them.

Grounded between the warmth of Haro, and the scent of Akai, Rei falls asleep, waiting for the dog days to finally be over.

#we're tackling the original sin #the tea party (dun dun dun)#i'm a little sad that “personalized heating unit (read: Haro)” got left on the cutting room floor #anyways I have a migraine but I want this out so here you go #i realized that I mostly write rei taking care of akai. have some implied akai taking care of rei in this one #sweater weather AU #akam #dcmk #long post #(i would like to formally apologize to squad leader date btw. I promise rei isn't any less upset about his death #but we are having a fire/explosion themed nightmare. i couldn't fit him in. I'm sorry)#(also rei. bit of dick move not to let akai talk to hiro...)#oops you are right mi although I'm not quite sure how to tag for that #um #mention of canon character deaths #specifically matsuda and hagiwara #iris writes fic

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briviting · 1 month

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idk my bff rose

#''I'm gonna draw my ocs often!!'' (hasn't drawn one for 3 months and the other for 6)#I got a little carried away w/ the different electronics now it looks like a series of them annoying each other over multiple decades #it was supposed to be a bunch of loose drawings and their tech is just anachronistic and weird #gala's familiarity w/ internet dialects and tone tags is an outlier for how ''in-touch'' he is. they're only marginally more hip than kludg #he talks somehow like a mix of a contemporary teen and a polite formal email from a middle-aged relative #kludge? entirely dry letter writing/prose. all lowercase tho.#why would a totally sapient person who knows the purpose of stitches and not to mess w/ them need a recovery cone? well. gala is impulsive #hence needing stitches #ocs #kludge oc #gala oc #art attag #eye strain #maybeee #LMAO oops that was a placeholder caption I forgot I uploaded it like that. ah well I'm keeping it

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generallyjl · 1 year

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losing my whole mind over this fantasy high: extra credit episode from late 2019 where they take a dive out of nowhere into the characters they'd wanna see in a "haunted fairytale" setting

what if neverafter but pinocchio was actually rip van winkle who was actually rumpelstiltskin (and sleeping beauty was mother goose's son)?? i have many thoughts

#nooOOUhhh i wanna be.... rumpelstiltskin!!#brennen also mentions starstruck odyssey in one of these 2019 talk things so we got 2 future 2020s seasons dropped there #dimension 20 #neverafter #fantasy high #lou wilson #siobhan thompson #brennan lee mulligan #*oops i spelled brennan wrong in my first tag but cannot he bothered to retype it for the sake of my ten followers who do not care 💜#this is my new neverafter character appearance bingo card (free spot is little red riding hood / big bad wolf)#but also it so cool to see a possible early iteration of an idea compared to how it evolved in the actuall creation process #and that siobhan was (in the neverafter universe) so close to ally's actual characyer in a very roundabout way

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osaemu · 2 months

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go touch grass

call me dazai the way i'm no longer human 😺

#sabs answers!#i <3 rylie #WAITTT i ate with that one #BUT I PROMISE #i have a flourishing social life #and a very. demanding academic schedule #both of which have consumed my life #leaving me little to no time for my lil fictional men #which is why i forgot how to write 😺#oops i got a text and forgot what i was talking about #guys i'm just yapping ........

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toasteaa · 3 months

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11:30 pm, time to post gift art that no one will see in the middle of my manic reblogging -

#toast talks #toast's silly art corner #idk if that gonna become a permatag or not be it be what it be #this is not my oc I'm just part of an art jackpot in my friend's server and I liked how this one turned out oop #first illustration of the year too even though I got a little lazy especially with the hair #that's okay my art drive has been so big maybe I'll do some fan art later on #anyway #my art

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princeofhags · 10 days

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i just finished reading about iraestra so wand of twilight for her as well!

Wand of Twilight. Iraestra conjures a spirit from the land of the dead to speak to them.

FANTASY PROMPTS | @foxboyclit

Smoke floods the altar in fragrant plumes, the familiar taste of myrrh coating the back of Iraestra's throat uncomfortably. Her steps, purposefully measured and slow, sound monstrous in the cavernous wings of the ceremonial chamber. The peace is further broken by the occasional murmur of an invocation or rustling cloth. There has been no order given for silence, but the trepidation hanging heavy in the air as the incense enforces the command. They all wait in the lurch of a breathless hush, an animal instinct to a known threat. Still, so that the hunter is not enthralled by your fleeing. Anticipation before the blow.

Does their visitor scent the fear he instills in the air, like a hound? Does the chorus of thrumming hearts beckon to him like the call of war drums? Bodies, so many bodies for him to open and bleed.

Itaestra does not doubt that he often relishes it. Bhaalspawn are such curious, depraved half-beasts.

Prince of the Blood. A self-given title, perhaps, but she has heard the reverence Bhaal's faithful pour at his feet like wine libations. Their honored guest is heir to a butcher's legacy. She thinks him little more than a glorified killer draped in the dressings of grandeur.

Iraestra does not cower or draw back from him, but there is still an instinctual unease at the thought of a Bhaalspawn being familiar with her. The Dread Lord’s wicked heirs do not know friends, only warm bodies to bite with steel. The world to them is already dead, merely waiting to be torn asunder to show its truest color: the crimson of fresh spilt blood.

A hedonistic dogma. She holds her tongue due to the respect granted to Bhaal by her own unholy master.

She observes the preparations for the ritual with only half an eye, attention commanded by the ophidian silhouette haunting the edge of the room. What a disquieting picture he paints. His height causes him to loom terribly, heads and shoulders above the flock of mortal meat. He need not even draw his weapon to kill half the room should he wish it. Each finger is tipped with a talon that catches the candlelight with each of his clenching hand. When he had spoken, his teeth had stood out vividly against the stone-black gleam of his scales. The dried gore on his scales embrace him as intimately as any lover.

The wicked length of a barbed tail flickers in what may be a sign of agitation in his people, or merely a quirk of the extra limb. His attention is riveted on the altar. She half expects it to catch aflame.

She attempts not to concern herself with his growing impatience. Any fool can cast a spell to converse with the departed; a Myrkulite only does so at the behest of another and the blessings of the Bone Lord. She will not disregard the tenants of her faith even for this Prince.

"You're eager," she observes. The dragonborn has not left the corpse's side since it was brought to her. Curious. He must be thoroughly invested in the secrets it would spill. "It was good that you preserved the jaw. A wasted trip had you not," she stops by the head, only the breadth of a few steps between her and the Prince.

At that, he finally regards her. Even in his initial instructions he had been short with her. "What of a tongue?

"Is this a theoretical or practical query?" Short of the patience to wait for an answer, Iraestra snaps at one of the attendants. "Bone Talker, check the mouth."

Questing fingers find only half of the appendage still intact. If removed before death, exsanguination is as likely a cause as any.

"It will do," she decides. "I am ready to begin." Her attendants step back as one.

The body has been prepared as best they can given its mangled state. This man, who can be no older than twenty, bares the marks of a slow death. The skull, partially caved, rests unevenly on the cloth. He does not even look peaceful now, as the victims of violence rarely do.

She steps forward, hands rising from her sides. Iraestra readies herself to speak the ancient words.

"Alone," the Prince's clipped voice rings out clearly. Not a request. Demand.

Iraestra hisses her frustration. Better vexation, than dread. She knows the vestments of anger well, slips into them like a second skin. Her mouth twists, her shoulders draw tight. Her hands are half-formed claws in the air. She hears the pound of her own heart in her ears.

What is so important that it cannot be witnessed by the others? What is to be done with her, who will attend to the questioning herself?

"Mistress?" Every cowled head in the room turns to look at her. They hear the call for her death as vividly as she. One of the fools is brave enough to step towards her, as if they could truly do anything to intervene. She admires them for their stupidity.

The Prince watches her, well aware of what he asks for. Trust or faith or maybe both. Clearly, he is looking for a reaction. Will she falter, will she balk? Could he make a bouquet of the stench of her unease? He regards her with a snake's stare, eyes cold licks of fire. He does not blink.

If he thinks he can subdue her so easily, then he is sorely mistaken. She is drow. She is Oblodra. Her own mother's hands were the first to ever try to take her life. He will find no easy marks here today. Let him slake his thirsts elsewhere. There are other, weaker creatures for him to gorge himself on.

"Leave us," Iraestra does not take her eyes from the Prince. She does not speak or move again until the door clicks shut behind the last attendant. How awfully similar it sounds to the closing stone of a tomb.

She rounds on him, irritation clear. "Why did you ask for me?"

The Prince is the first to look away, back to her hands and then the body. Iraestra does not feel like she has won anything of merit. It is impossible to tell if he is pleased. "The Banite confides in you. I thought to do the same."

He does not give a name, nor does she ask for it. She wonders at what the Prince knows of her talks with the other Chosen.

"And what if his confidence is misplaced?" A theoretical. Her loyalty is not often brought into question. It is rare that she pledges it at all.

"Then I will kill you," the Prince simply states.

She laughs. That intention is only the natural conclusion of the dance. There is no greater aim for those of his depraved bent. "So you say. Did you not plan to do so already?"

His head tilts in a particularly reptilian gesture. His glittering eyes have found the pulse in her throat, her bare wrists. She cares not for his study. It feels too much like a physical caress, high beneath dress and robe. One hunger is not too different from another, and she supposes they may be frighteningly the same for him. Both indulgences of the flesh, in the end. "Do not tempt me. Your blood would spill sweetly on this floor."

Iraestra sneers. "Cast your fetid gaze elsewhere, brute. You will not find easy prey in me."

He chuckles darkly. "Of that I am sure. I would savor the challenge as much as anything else."

"I was under the impression that there were more pressing matters at hand, given your early insistence on haste."

"Time can always be afforded for pleasure, sorceress. Consider the feel of silk on the skin. The burst of fruit between teeth and the rush of the juice down your chin, the clench of a lover tight around you as they sob your name. That final, shuddering breath that flutters out of the throat at death. Do you not feel the drum of the heart in your own chest? Do you not wish to dance to it? If you are so indifferent to it, I could show you how to listen to it once more. To feel it." How reverently he speaks, as if he is at the shrine of his own father-god. His lids have nearly closed in rapture.

There's smoke in the dragonborn's mouth and anticipation in his words, thick enough to choke on. He whispers with the tongue of a snake, words dripping from the depravities he utters.

As mad as his sister, the shape-changer, Iraestra decides with disdain. The seed of Bhaal is truly cursed with madness, complete and true. It was preferable when he was barely acknowledging her presence despite demanding it in the first place.

"You have nothing that I desire." Were she younger, still a fool turned by a pretty face, she may have once allowed herself to be seduced by the offer. She ignores the answering hook of arousal low in her gut, focusing once more on the misshapen head on the pillow. Reminds herself of whose hands exactly have crushed it. There is much to do before she is ready for the grave. "Now, if you will allow me to get on with this, we may be each rid of the other before long."

“A pity that you deny yourself,” but he nods. “Perform your rites. Regretfully, I cannot linger for long.”

Iraestra does not regret that. She is exhausted and enthralled by him in equal measure. Let this be the first and last time she suffers his company.

She begins her prayer to the dead.

#oc: balam #oc: iraestra #princeofhags writes #foxboyclit #lord that only took me forever #i was tired of this sitting in my drafts and i feel like the abrupt ending to their interactions shows this but alas #glad to have it out in the world and I hope you like it!#the two of them and their dynamic is very fun to write although I feel like it's clear where I picked it back up again oop #context for anyone else reading is that iraestra is an oblodra - one of the last of a powerful drow psionic line - and now a myruklite #got all involved in chosen shenanigans due to her psionics and knowledge of illithids and helped w tadpole research #def has a weird on and off again with gort #balam is my durge and he's batshit and his whole thing is Hedonistic Pleasures? Hedonistic Pleasures tonight queen???#while also being a lean mean scaled killing machine. he has multitudes. and those are 'fuck' and 'bleed it out'.#usually both in whatever order he pleases #but durgetash is also canon in my writing soooooooo #here is 2/3 of the weirdest most toxic polycule #does this count as a meet cute??#realize there was very little of actually talking to the dead in this. or. not at all. but my brain is fried friend #warnings for typical necromancer and bhaalspawn shenanigans and just lots of weird talking #nothing much happens of consequence but i had fun

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aaravos-answers · 10 months

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(same anon here with the touchy guy best friend) Don't get me wrong, Aaravos, I never reciprocated his romantic feelings...I always knew they were there, but I didn't want our friendship to get awkward because of it

What I didn't know was he'd been alienating me from the other guys for MONTHS, and I'd always feel left out and lonely in groups, and he'd be the person i'd turn to, the person i thought I could trust

So when i found out he was the cause of all my misery, my heart just absolutely shattered, you know? Because I didn't know this was the sheer extent of his feelings for me...and it creeped me out, because he was the kind of guy who didn't take no for an answer

my sixth sense would always scream at me whenever he'd touch me in a way I wouldn't like...like the one time he put his hand on my waist, and honest to god, I was not only creeped out, but I was also scared. i don't know why, and i didn't know how to tell him to stop touching me, but it scared me...i was thirteen years old, and i still remember my heart pounding-

and i do hate him, but honestly, i feel like its my fault too...the signs were all there from the start and i chose to ignore them in a desperate bid to revive a friendship and a person i knew was too adamant to change

and i think this is the first time i'm really, genuinely talking about this, since i don't think i have any friends at all anymore

Oh, goodness, little one, you've been carrying this around for quite some time, haven't you?

Starling, breaking away from such a thing with little to no support is incredibly difficult, and I am so, so proud of you for it. <3

...Do let me know if you ever see him again. I have a blade you can borrow, if you'd like.

#aaravos answers #ask #anonymous #and i would happily cause harm to any who wish it on my flock #you have friends here little one <3 #mun says:#making friends is both easy and difficult #if you make a rp blog for your blorbo its an easy way to find people who also like them #and then sometimes they will geek out bc their fave character is talking to them and you can be internally shrieking #and you are both internally flipping out about This Is Such A Cool Person Why Are They Even Talking To Me Aaaaaaaaa #and then they??? like talking to you????#oh look you made a new friend #(THIS HAPPENED MULTIPLE TIMES I SWEAR IM NOT COOL AARAVOS IS JUST MAGIC)#anyways <3 you got this!#Talk To People is really hard believe me i know but surprisingly often they Talk Back and they Like You and Are We Friends Now??#it's weird #harder and easier than you think all at the same time #or is that just me?#oops rambling too long sorry #anyways. my spell slots are limited my friend slots are not. hi #okay goodnight <3

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killjoy-prince · 6 months

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My ANYC haul

I bought some spicy stuff which you can see under the cut

#prince's talk tag #ren dont look #this took so long to go through and sort aaaaaaa my back hurts lolol #man i bought A LOT #i gotta wait for tomorrow for my presentation book to come in so i can put the posters in them #the stickers i can put in my sticker book #as for the charms and buttons i can put some up but not all i dont have a lot of room oops #anyway!! no con makes me wanna spend so much money quite like anyc #ive been to a few different cons in my time but this one takes the cake the artists and vendors are perfection #there was a rally for b/aldurs g/ate where you visited participating booths and either rolled a 20 with a d20 #or bought 10 bucks worth of stuff from each booth to collect stamps #then youd bring it to the last booth to get a prize which was some prints and sticker sheet which you can see on the top row in the 2nd pic #as well as a sticker sheet in the top left of the same pic #and since this game is my current obsession and by extension the vampire in the game i had no problem getting the stamps by spending money #i bought so much of my boy and this wasnt even all they had of him but it was a good chunk #i also bought a bunch of ge/nshin stuff specifically d/iluc bc hes my fave when i was playing a lot and there was an artist who had so much #of him available for sale and he looked so good in their style so i had to #the pic with the flamingo fidget toy i got from the p/r/s/k meetup!! the host gave out little goodie bags as thanks for coming #she was dressed as h/onami which is why the card has her on it #the pic with the cookbook was by an artist ive seen a few times and would buy recipe prints from (the back of the prints has the recipe)#so when i saw they had a cookbook now i had to get it!! its so cute!!#I also bought a bunch of dice bc i love dice and i was with two people who play a lot of d/n/d and enabled me lolol #i havent played in a while but they invited to play sometime and i do wanna join!! so why not #hard to take good pics of the dice tho i get what the sales person at e/verythingd/ice was saying #speaking of: shoutout to that sales person for hustling to get us to spend so much. they are good at what they do. im not even mad #they werent mean or anything but they had a job to do and did it well #the stone dice on the black box was from a different company but i saw those dice and knew i had to get them. they called to me #havent had dice do that since i bought a set at a card shop in italy #the p/ersona tote i got from a booth that had a persona themed pc and you had to take a pic of the display and tweet it to get the bag #we tried saturday but they ran out fast so we had to run to the booth sunday to get it

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hihopelessromantics · 6 months

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OOOH! Definitely interested in your wips. Would love to hear more about these in particular (whichever one(s) you feel like sharing)

(also yes definitely still happily stuck inside this fandom bubble)

will indulge!!! (This is long but it's good to organize my thoughts lol)

I straight up forgot to put the name of this one lol. Meliodas doing dangerous antics is part of my Through the Wall sequel fic, called "Stakeout" which is the one where I have him cooking. I tried to mix in some humor with the angst here. It's basically Stigma Meliodas if Nakaba didn't nerf his intellegence. This one, I'll be feeding you guys soon!! Because I plan to try to finish Through the Wall this Thanksgiving Break, since I started it last thanksgiving break (ambitious I know, but imagine the poetism if I pull it off!) and Stakeout is farther along in its completion than that one. Stakeout is about Meliodas looking out for the TC and his brother from the opposite of the war. The first part is him deciding to try to get them dinner after seeing how worn-down they are, and the second . . . well, he can't exactly leave Zeldris to watch over both the Vampire and Demon Realms all by his lonesome, right? I'm actually really excited for you and @7-ratsinatrenchcoat to see this one in particular when it's finished because I tried to channel the melizabeth energy I liked in your work

This one is named such not cause I wanna name it something bulky (it has a better name! that's the exclusive lore lol) but I'm commited not to spoiling the plot twists in this one. This is gonna be my main gift to this fandom, a spiced up psychological horror rewrite of the whole show with original elizabeths and original adventures for the first and second season (that one is a backstory with Liz!) Plot point collaboration welcome. A bunch of season one, and the plot tiwsts, I made with my good friend zeldriszezinho, and I'm pretty antsy and excited to finally get around to it and present him with the result of our hard work, haha. I actually have a lot of senarios planned both in detail and loosely, just not written down. I'm currently procrastinating on Season 1 Pt. 2 because it's literally 5 or so arcs of content, one for all the sins, and uh. mental energy. So I'm trying to finish up a lot of small projects first just so my mind isn't everywhere. I can't remember if you've seen what I've posted on it so far but here's the masterpost and season one part one! It's on tumblr too! but I went ahead and pressed the space bar like 4 times every indent so it would be normally formatted on A03 sooooo https://archiveofourown.org/works/48567730 https://archiveofourown.org/works/48611485/chapters/122618557

3. Ironically, think Rings was another one inspired by you - it's old, almost 8 months by now, and the only reason I haven't published it yet is the second ellie spiraled out of control into her own adventure and I haven't had the time because I've been word vomiting so many other projects into existence. it's half meme format, half usual writing. The second ellie's meme story is complete and the third's just needs its wrapping up of its actual plot, which is simple: an arrogant man thinks his bride is secretly a nutcase, but feels pressured into marrying her because medival times, because she's a sweet and intellegent woman running an orphanage all by herself, and technically he can't do better, and because it would look disasterously on the both of them and destroy his carefully crafted persona if they somehow couldn't make this community-arranged marriage work. So he's "putting up with her quirks." Including the ancient what-looks-like-wedding-rings she wears around her neck, and the fact she genuinely thinks her one-that-got-away lover sold a prized possession to demons. (the significance of these rings is in the stories of the previous two elizabeths). Well. Actually. He steals them while she's distracted with wedding planning. It doesn't go well for him from there.

Let me know your opinion: should I try finishing the third ellie and then publishing it? I can always go back and make a full story out of "purple ring" ellie + friends later.

Basically, the purple ring's story is as thus: Meliodas decides he needs to rest, "REALLY rest", since his emotional stress is beginning to affect his demon biology in a bad way, and voluntarily coma-tizes himself for a while. He wakes some time later only to find out Elizabeth and her new 'family' have been considering him as their good luck charm. (Maybe even more than one Elizabeth has passed by now. Probably the apothecary he visits figures out what Meliodas meant to do and goes to fetch him, too late, and looks after him . . . see, that could be a whole OTHER story in itself. anyway.) He's a "good luck charm" because his demon aura has been disgusing the magical signature of her druid family, not that they've figured this out. Meliodas tries to get up and run away with an injured Ellie but surprise surprise he hasn't quite recovered from what his body and mind has been through, and the combination of that and the drugs has left him critcially weakened. He actually collapses falls down a small cliff with her. Ellie assures him they've gotten far enough to shake off the people who are searching for her, that it's okay. Moreover, she understands more or less what he's going through, since she lost her leg a while back. They reuinte with Ellie's little "siblings," druid children the family has rescued along their journey.

Later ~ the main organizers of their group are shocked to return to their isolated cabin to find that not only have all the children survived the winter, and possible clashes with whoever's been hunting them for decades, but there's one extra child! And a talking cow. (I haven't decided whether some of these people are semi-antagonsists.) Meliodas's condition never improves (angst angst <3) but he takes up the task of looking after the kids alongside Elizabeth anyway- especially when she and the others are gone, working or otherwise. Oftentimes he and the spunky talking cow go on adventures in the forest or in town, collecting herbs or materials for crafts and toys. She carries him, Hawk-style. I can't remember her name but it was a silly one, and he saves her life once with his wings. He's also fought away intruders once while the 'adults' weren't home with Full Counter, being able to stand for long enough to use it before collapsing.

In this iteration, Meliodas recieves his ring from his new 'siblings' as they say that "it's the same color as the magic you used to protect us." Referring to the times he's used his demon magic around the house, and, unknowingly, to the fact his very presence has been the only thing keeping them safe from raiders on more than one occasion. Throughout it all Meliodas struggles with having to be the one cared for for once, and not being able to be the muscle of this group that so clearly would benefit from him being his 'usual' self. While his siblings think he's a genuine gift from God, and are more than happy to look after him as he does them, trading stories between them and cuddling up like he truly belongs, adult members of the family never take a shine to him and resent him somewhat, even perrfering when he was comatose. There's more (and more angst) but I should probably say less.

4. (TW: this one gets DARK with the demon brothers angst) modern fantasy ireland boarding school au" is actually another gift for @gh0stofyesterday, who can't escape me, from back in like feburary or something lol. It's an angsty modern-day genderqueer demon brothers and genderqueer elizabeth. Basically Meliodas tricks his snooty father into letting him and his brother (who's not technically old enough but academically girlboss yourself outta that condundrum zeldris) go to boarding school in his deceased mother's home country, where Meliodas plans to study interior design (he's gonna design the boar hat himself <3) and, against his father's wishes, join the gymnastic team. Little does he know that his online friends in his tween gymnastics discord server or whatever (The TC) are also going to end up there. ( I have the scene where they realize he's not the snooty daughter of the DK ceo and actually their Captain planned out already actually. they realize it when he beats the snot out of some guy that chases zeldris through the gymnasium lol).

Other plot points include! Elizabeth and Meliodas have a secret online romance as "Study buddies" and plan to perform a ceremony to use whatever their magic is unsealed to share a bit of that magic with each other, as a kind of marriage ceremony (peak 14 year old romance lol). Meliodas and Zeldris learn (originally Irish) sign language in order to communicate without their father snooping. Cusack and Chandler deal with being technical slaves to the Demon King and attempt to parent their protegees in more important ways than teaching them fencing, keeping their secrets, and buying them things. Gelda explains she never cuddles with her sisters for emotional support, Zel and Mel feel sorry for her . . . then figure out they are touch-starved and probably need therapy for that too. Hot springs date. Zel discovers Mel has been cuddling him while laying on his side specifically because there are fresh child abuse wounds across his back. Meliodas commandeers his gymnastics coach's coaching authority and starts an underground fencing ring upon being told he can't do that (we go to school in a castle! c'mon!). Zeldris tries to deal with a ginger-haired kid who seems equally hellbent on being his friend as he is his school rival. Depending on how dark I'm gonna make this, you might even get to see a prolouge where Zeldris forgoes a plan to murder - suicide his brother following his mother's funeral after meeting a small Gelda at the playground. Oh, and the DK having to fidgit uncomfortably in court. This one is basically a for-fun daydream, but a pal volunteed to beta it for me so it will eventually get written up for you all!

#this is fun!#can you tell I take notes when I read y'alls angst?#rings includes a pretty sweet meliodas death scene but I should probabaly like shut up and actually write and not just talk about it cause #my summaries aren't as good as the real thing i think #and are five hundred pages long. you should see what my english teachers have had to put up with.#book report? yes sir here's three thousand words what do you mean that's too long WHAT DID YOU WANT ME TO DO LEAVE OUT THE IMPORTANT STUFF #beginning to think a little horror goes into everything I write but. i mean. spice. plus everyone clearly loves torturing these characters #what's more torturous than not being able to protect the ones you love cause you c a n ' t #it's three am and I'm wondering how I got so obsessed with these characters. Oops? anyway good writing practice

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laststandx3 · 7 months

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what are ur best terror ships??? /wllipt

so as you might have guessed I have a soft spot for hickey. so hickey/gibson and hickey/tozer are my faves.

Adding on this i can add the unappreciated and overlooked but with actually a lot of potential ship: gibson/tozer, hear me out: they're in a situationship with the same weird little guy but they're polar opposite (introvert vs extrovert, judgy vs friendly, self-reliant vs loyal, it's-not-personal-but-it's-finished vs get-me-off-these-chains-cornelius!, we'll-be-flogged vs walking to the gallows together aka not wanting trouble vs risking everything) and yet those two clever, practical, peaceful, skilled men fall for the same guy.

I think exactly for those contradictions they can have such an interesting dynamic.

If Billy had more scenes people would appreciate him more. Tozer gets flashed out a lot more, has different interactions and we get to see his character arc. Billy's arc tho happens mostly off-screen. even his talk with irving is off-screen. we don't see how billy reacts AFTER the flogging (it's implied he and hickey didn't interact much and that hickey spent more time with the marines) but then again we see so little from billy's pov one really needs to pay attention to him to notice the shades of his personality.

anyway. i got lost, back to the question: gibson/hickey/tozer is my ot3, because on one side

-> tozer adds a sense of stability to hickey/gibson that they alone don't have.

on the other side

<- gibson is the reality check to hickey/tozer. dont get me wrong but hickey/tozer is also (much slower than hickey/gibson) on a self-destruction path. you know tozer can't say no to hickey until it's too late. So billy would be the canary to the coalmine that can be hickey's lastest scheme.

basically I'm a hickey shipper, with the right setup i'm all for hickey/manson, hickey/irving, and even hickey/hartnell. hickey/goodsir too! i forgot about them

i see why people might enjoy hickey/crozier but i'm not part of the 'fuck that old man' club so i don't actively look up for those.

I can also see the appeal for hickey/jopson, but to me jopson isn't flashed out enough to be interesting. he's just very needy for crozier approval. to me he doesn't carry anything on his own, he's got eldest daughter syndrome and he's the guy from tweeter who says i don't have an opinion on my own, if a beautiful girl tells me to change my mind I will. but for crozier. sorry for the jopson enjoyers. nothing personal, that character doesn't resound with me. i don't have daddy issues.

other ships i enjoy are: tozer/armitage, manson/hartnell, heather/being alive, anyone/hodgson bc hodge is a case study, it's interesting for interpretation. honorable mention goodsir/silna

honorable non-mention bridgens/peglar, bc they're already happy in canon or into a realtionship of some kind so i don't feel the need to explore that more.

and this is it.

hope you found this answer interesting and...not to long and have a good day <3

#me -spamming paragraph over paragraph of gibson/tozer propaganda-: oh i got distracted oops #ask #terror posting #the thing is in every fic heather is always the straight token friend with wife and kids. like imagine being so important in the life of #sgt tozer that when you die he looses all his core values only for people to be like: they were besities #but anyway it's funnier like this #for being a post about how i ship hickey with everyone this post talks very little about hickey #But the fandom explored and still expolres every hickey ship in depth so repeating myself didn't seem useful #You don't need 3 paragraph about hickey giving up all hopes after billy dies and trying to tame Tuunbaq as a last resort #Nor you need other 2 paragraphs about why tozer relays on hickey #Been there done that #But you know what you never heard about? Gibson and Tozer very specific dynamic #Can you imagine being with a guy that's also dating a man that's your opposite? How do you react?#You hate him bc he and your bf have nothing in common. What is this man doing in the middle of your relationship??!!#Or do you understand that you might be complementary??#I spend nights thinking about this #Anyway end. Done. I'm not adding anything more #This is one sentence from turning into am essay #thanks for the question!#🧡💛💚💙💜🧡💓💞💙💓❣️💜💛#billy gibson #solomon tozer

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