Because we all love inappropriate questions about our OCs.
(via masrin)@14 hours ago with 2320 notes
Ruetto, Sai'Bariel, Deneranth, Denastien
Because we all love inappropriate questions about our OCs.
(via masrin)@14 hours ago with 2320 notes
( By popular request. )
The sky was open and full of stars, the atmosphere in the open field of flowers where they had spent a great deal of time together seemed entirely different. What would have made for a perfectly romantic, lovely night, wasn’t going to be anything like what it used to be. She wasn’t thinking about any of that. She was on the way to her next target and wasn’t sure why she’d stopped here. Just as the strings pulled her onward, she was tackled from the side, rolling and tumbling through grass and flowers, a heavy weight pinning her to the cool ground.
Masrin had been waiting for her. He always waited. They always waited. It was as though he knew she’d be coming, and she coldly, calmly wondered why he hadn’t brought anyone else with him. Masrin’s eyes flashed with a desperate insistence. He was talking, pleading, begging her to fight this. He would rather let her tear his heart out of her own accord than see her dance to someone else’s tune, and won’t you please please listen to me, you don’t have to do this, fight him -
"Ruetto!" He gave her too much credit. She stared with those large, beguiling eyes into his own, typically so alert and aware. She couldn’t do anything, couldn’t fight anything, all that he had taught her came to this one damning moment where he seemed to forget that they weren’t tangled in a loving embrace on this field of flowers. Blood soaked the hand that held her dagger, buried up to the hilt in his side.
He held her face in his hands and pressed his lips to hers, going rigid and trembling over her as she pulled the dagger from his side, a dark red gush of blood following the motion. His eyes were darkening, just like all the others. She pushed him and he rolled a bit away into the grass, leaving a trail of his life behind him.
She knew he wasn’t dead, and yet despite the Puppeteer’s yelling insistence, she couldn’t bring herself to make a final, fatal blow. She stared a moment, hands trembling. Denaranth’s hold on her doubled in anticipation, he wouldn’t have another outburst like the last time. She turned and fled into the darkness, tears silently streaming down her face.
- - - -
- - - -
Haestus wiped her tears away gently with the corner of his sleeve. “I don’t want to hear any of this ‘if’ nonsense from you,” he murmured. “Because if you decide that it would be better if you were not around, I will send Masrin to track you down,” he said with a quiet chuckle. “And you know how stubborn the man can be when he has his sights set on something.”
“Like bacon,” Masrin commented, unfolding himself from where he’d been leaning against the door, listening. He walked into the kitchen, plucking some of the bacon Ruetto had made from her plate. Haestus rolled his eyes, shaking his head at his twin.
“Please, help yourself,” the priest invited resignedly.
“The point is,” Masrin said, speaking around a mouthful of bacon and pointing the end of one piece at her. “What he’s trying to say is, you’re stuck with us. You miiiiight be able, however unlikely, to resist one of us. But against the combined might of the Silverfire twins? To put it bluntly, sweetheart: You’re fucked. We aren’t letting go of you, whether you want it or not.”
“Thank you for putting it so delicately,” Haestus muttered, turning his gaze back on Ruetto. “Please. Tell me you will stay and allow us to see this through,” he said, his voice softening again.@2 days ago with 2 notes
Felt like creating one of these.
Confrontational scenario starters; silly tiffs, brawls and shouting matches in the making!
Send a sentence from your muse to mine, specify which, or leave it entirely optional for me to choose!
- "Get out! Get out of my house!"
- "When did you first realize that you’re a complete idiot?"
- "Now you show your true colours. Now everyone will know what you really are!”
- "I can’t even stand to look at you."
- "Who the hell do you think you are?"
- "That’s a really stupid idea."
- "Don’t touch me."
- "I’m done, I’m completely done with you."
- "PUT THAT DOWN!"
- "What the FUCK were you thinking?”
- "Shut your mouth."
- "Don’t fight me, come quietly and I won’t have to hurt you."
- "What’s your problem?"
- "You’re full of shit! Everything you say is a lie!"
- "Come here and say that!”
- "Blah blah blah, all I’m hearing is hot air."
- "You look absolutely ludicrous."
- "Go somewhere else and cry. Again."
- "Whatever it is you are going to say, I don’t want to hear it and I don’t care."
- "Empty your pockets."
- "You’re driving me completely insane."
- "Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did?"
- "Put the knife down, put your hands up and turn around."
- "What did you say?"
- "Explain yourself!"
- "Where is it? What did you do with it??"
- "You have to be joking. Please tell me this is a joke."
- "Who pissed in your oatmeal this morning?"
- "I’m going to count to five. When I reach five I better see you running."
(via dawnsavant)@1 week ago with 32 notes
( By popular request, again. )
He stood for everything good in her. Haestus Silverfire, her compass, her savior, her oldest friend, her ann’da. He waited in the garden, not in fear for his life, but in fear for hers. At this darkest hour, he had failed her and wasn’t sure he was worthy of her adoration. He had failed all of them, he hadn’t been strong or devoted enough to save her, and thusly save them all.
Summary: Female, Sin’dorei. Unaffiliated with any major House or if otherwise, the identity of said House is uncertain at this point due to severe amnesia, the cause of which is currently unknown. Potentially severe trauma of the mind due to prior and potentially consistent (thankfully, not continuing) abuse.
He mused to himself if he did everything over again, what he would have done differently? If he knew what folly she would bring him and his brother, what she would do to his friends, to his heart and soul, would he have helped her that day? The question was a bit too difficult to answer. Somehow he knew, setting eyes on her in the exchange for the first time, that she would be an inexorable part of his life, the way she stared off into the distance with her hands in her lap, palms up, splinters biting into her flesh. He hadn’t noticed it upon first looking at her, but recalling the memory she had certainly looked like a puppet on a shelf, waiting to be played with.
Ruetto didn’t open the garden door, silent as she leapt over the gate and landed within. The moonlight shown into the clear space, affording Haestus just enough light to make out her shadow under the gate. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t just yet. She straightened, standing in the light, her face illuminated, the murderous puppet staring forward, tears streaming down her cheeks, no other expression upon her face.
Please, don’t do this. I’ll do whatever you want with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, Deneranth don’t make me do this. Master, I beg you.
Her pleading grew increasingly incoherent, mindless, desperation dissolving it to frenzied, metaphysical sobs.
The slow stride to the priest was agonizing. It was as though the puppeteer was giving Haestus plenty of time to run, time to finally break and show the cowardice that Deneranth was certain lay just underneath. Ruetto knew better, even if she wanted to scream at her angel to flee. There wasn’t a shred of cowardice with in him; Haestus stood his ground, a halo of light illuminating him and the garden.
Heastus opened his arms to her after she sat, giving her a comforting hug. “Rue… I know things might seem difficult, but I just wanted to tell you… I am so very proud of how brave you have been. It’s important that you stay positive,” he said gently to her. “That you remain optomistic. Trust me, my dear. I will see you through this, one way or another.”
Tears streamed down his face and he shook his head.
"I’m so sorry, Ruetto. I’m so sorry, dearest." He couldn’t apologize enough, staring into her eyes as she drew near. He raised a hand to her expressionless face and closed his eyes, lowering his head.
He was down the next moment and she wasn’t even afforded the solace of holding him in her arms as he grew still and lifeless, wasn’t even given permission to say goodbye, to express her love, her gratitude, her regret at ever having let him be anything for her, do anything for her. Die for her.
Outlook: Fair. R.S. seems to be a strong individual and fairly resourceful. All other issues aside, my one and greatest concern is the damage that has been done to her mind. There may be other consequences that have not yet manifested, depending on how deep the damage was. I pray that she chooses to accept my help; the sooner I can assess the true totality of the damage, the better.@1 day ago with 4 notes
dawnsavant said: ۩ (hello i require feels)
( Let’s raise the stakes a little. )
Some while back, in another time, in another reality altogether …
Loollee, loollah, loollee, loolah.
The songs in her head were the only way she could drown out the screaming. Her own voice, enchanting, entrancing, ensnaring and condemned her to the whim of an obsessive, powerful man, on metaphysical strings she danced to her target, a man entirely different from the former.
Warmth always filled her at the sight of him, as pleasantly warm as the rising sun gently cutting across the cold, dew-beaded grass of a vast field, dispersing the darkness and mists.
But her fingers were numb, nothing would warm her today.
He set his hand down, a small round pastry in his palm. A cookie, chocolate chips liberally dispersed in soft, chewy sweet-bread. For the faintest of moments she felt oddly inclined to take it from his palm. She didn’t know why she had instinctively moved to his side, kneeling near his feet, head coming up to his hips. She looked up, but he didn’t look down. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have had to scream. Maybe his smile would have saved them both.
She wanted to hug him, but her movements only allowed for ill intent. A scream, blood, crumpled, stained robes. The jingling of bells as the priest staggered to the ground before her. She briefly felt his blood on her fingers, warm and alive. It was enough to draw herself to consciousness for just a few agonizing moments.
She screamed silently, drawing the priest to herself, coming out of the shadow to collect him in her arms, eyes wide, expression twisted to that of horror and bitter regret. The light behind his eyes was beginning to fade, words dying in his throat, lovely voiced choked as his lips stained red, his expression one of confusion as he tried to focus on her face. She pressed a hand to his wounds to try and stem the bleeding, tears filling her eyes. She tried to scream for help, but the words wouldn’t come; they never did.
She shook him when he finally stilled. She pressed kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, anything to wake him. Anything to wake the man she had felt so connected to, even quietly and secretly been rather sweet on.
Finally the voice called her to action again. Onto the next. There were many more still to go.
Bye, bye, loollee, loollay.@3 days ago with 3 notes
(Source: , via beastofshadows)@3 days ago with 8834 notes
Anonymous said: 文
Send in 文 for a confession from my character on what gets them hot.
Biting, restraints, breath play ( as mentioned in a previous post ). Hair grabbing.
It’s quite a multitude of things, really, and giving as well as receiving can excite her. She also enjoys displays and really appreciates it when a partner takes the time to make themselves look appealing, whether it be sexual or not.@1 week ago