NOBODY EXISTS ON PURPOSE. Nobody belongs anywhere. We're all going to die. Come watch TV?
VITALPHENOMENA. by lye, 26, they/them. EST. 2011.
— rules&roster. roster wheel. prompts. open posts. credits. —
TRIGGERS APPLY. 20+ only.
For OOC info, content warnings, and rules, see below.
lye, 26, they/them. EST. @/vitalphen on discord.
CONTENT WARNINGS
I do not tag triggers in threads, only in visual media. If your triggers are not indicated on your blog, I will probably end up asking. If you follow this blog, I assume you are comfortable with potentially being exposed to, but not necessarily writing, the following:
a scientific institute that tortures and experiments on human beings, primarily children. Child abuse will be addressed but hopefully with a careful hand.
domestic abuse - explicit abuse will not always be tagged, but it will be under a read more.
cultism
spree/serial murder
arson/fire/pyromania
drug use/drug trafficking/addictive disorders
age gap relationships
sex work in the form of stripping and camming
RULES
Mutuals only. Godmodding should only be of the plotted variety (so not even godmodding). I don’t even know what the other basics are. Just be cool. Don’t be all, like, uncool.
I love shipping - chemistry-based, experimental, pre-established, anything goes. Explicit smut gets tagged as #usfw and is not always under a read more. Respect sexualities and gender identities. Burns is asexual. Romantic/sexual/inappropriate content with minors will not be tolerated. Various characters are polyamorous or in open relationships.
Length-wise, I prefer one-liners or short multi-para prose threads. I generally match length. I’m always down to plot — shoot me a message or some memes whenever. I post starter calls frequently as well. Always feel free to send memes!
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Remi gives her a nasty little smile. There's an element of vindication, as if he's been waiting for Isla to snap the whole time. He's tired of her self-righteous, cool girl act—the one that makes him feel like a failure every time he talks to her. She's his little sister. Not the other way round.
He'll feel better about losing his shit if she loses hers too.
"Tell me how you really feel, why don't you? Go on, admit it. You do think you're better than me."
REMI, DESPITE HIS GAMBLING ADDICTION (or, in fact, because of it) DOESN'T GET TO WIN OFTEN. She thinks about this as she tries to look down on him—which is becoming increasingly difficult the angrier and pettier this conversation makes her.
Anyway, maybe it'd be nice to give Remi his one win for the week. You got me, big guy! I'm as miserable and immature as you are.
It's hard to know that and immediately say what he wants her to say. So, instead:
"Is this doing anything for you? Did you have money on pissing me off today?"
A grin splits Hughie's face. It's good to hear her laugh, to have that visceral acknowledgement that this is right and good and wanted. He doesn't think he's ever seen her like this before- obviously not below him, straddled beneath his weight- but so eager. Vulnerable.
It's frightening and exhilarating. He doesn't want to fuck this up, for both their sakes. They both deserve a good time. She returns his affections, eager and messy, which is only endearing her all the more to him.
He moves in closer until his lips brush against her ear. "Say 'red' if you want me to stop? Okay?"
IT'S SO CUTE—AND SEXY!—HOW HAPPY HE IS RIGHT NOW. She wants to make him happy. He deserves to be happy. And he's so often being berated or denigrated or taught how cruel life can be.
This is a break from all of that. This is his chance to feel powerful and sexy and strong. And! Spirit can get off, too.
She shivers, more excited anticipation than any real chill. She nods—realizes she can't nod, then goes, "Mm-hm. Mm-hm." With the air she still has.
"Don't stop." She has her nails scraping against his stomach again.
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aria to vincent @despiterage — "You have a boner right now. You have a boner right now, and we just killed a bunch of people, and your back is literally against the wall. There is something so wrong with you. And you think you're great? Be serious. We have a job to do. You're gonna follow through, and you're gonna do it my way."
SF to AL @petitsdieu — "I do not want to hurt you. I will hurt you, I–What do you want this to be?"
beck to funke @nightrot — "My love is not a little thing. It is a big thing. A big thing still called love."
beck to homelander @rejectory — "I AM—I am good. I am ready. Terrorists, traffickers, people blowing themselves up. I am ready. Have you seen what I can do, even."
beck to houston @jupiterfree — "I am doing this for them, for all of them! And for you! For you! Because it is right, and because I can!"
burns to rex @deficd —"I DID NAWTI DID NAWT I DID NAWT! I'm not a snitch and I'm not a fuckin' spy or a fuckin' lurker or WHATEVAH! I don't know where he went or why he's got a tail and that's the end of it!"
cain to charles @id1eyouth — "What do you want from me, Charles? Do you want to visit my office hours? Do you want to get lunch somewhere with delicious sandwiches? We do not need to be friends."
cullen to ben @kylo-wrecked — "Let us not forget who put whose hands on whom first. I mean. It almost sounds like you're victim blaming right now. Are you? Victim blaming?"
dafne to chris @rassvetiye — "I don't even—I'm not cynical, you know? I'm not. I like people. Oh my god, do I have to be a feminist because of this? I have to?"
dafne to harrison @id1eyouth — "Do you even understand who you're threatening, right now?"
dafne to zachary @id1eyouth — "Hiii! Sorry. Not who you were expecting. I'm the girl coming to cut your hair. Your regular barber had a scheduling conflict, but I come highly recommended. You can give him a call, if you want. I know this is to-ta-lly freaky."
dick to harold @gordiacea — "You'll have to forgive us for the, well, I'll admit it, secretive manner in which we conduct ourselves at our little facility. Protecting my colleagues' innovations and discoveries is of the utmost importance! I do appreciate you signing that document, as it's a necessary sort of formality, but it's rather preliminary—and gives us quite the air of mystery, don't you think? Everyone who steps foot on Site A has to sign it, though. The premises liability clause is just as imperative as the non-disclosure clauses—you wouldn't believe the insurance premiums I'm shelling out on a regular basis! Besides, now we can really get down to brass tacks. I'm sure [Big University] pays the bills just fine, and it's a noble institution, but let me be frank, Doctor: we'd love to collaborate with you. Permanently."
dick to johns @eviji — "Being so dismissive will hardly service you, my good man. You're playing a dangerous game, and I'm not sure you understand the basic rules. You see, my opinion matters, and it matters far more than yours. Hypotheses matter just as much as the data our experiments yield. Do you understand me, Johns?"
dmitri to josephine @ruinaa — ""I see people in a way others can't, with a degree of detail that is maddening. It is what makes me unique. It is, I think, what allows me to recreate them so well. I can also see their potential. I see your potential. I see you conflicted, battling something. Restrained by this life you've stuck yourself in. It hurts, Josephine, to see such a waste."
elijah knight to elijah mercer @midcenturies — "Well, to start, it'd be real nice if we could put an end to these hostilities. After that, I do believe we've got more in common than you think. Do you not believe Jesus Christ died for our sins?"
lila to charles @id1eyouth —
slime
texture
its good
margot to hara @petitsdieu — "You are here, though. You're—shocked? In shock? Right now, but you won't always be. My first time, it was terrifying. It was self defense, but it was terrifying. But I learned. I adapted. I overcame."
max to johns @eviji — "Who is letting you listen to that British bullshit? Answer me in a plain sentence. Remember how you speak to me."
pyotr to dallas @jupiterfree — "I think if you actually give up on yourself, and on that girl, you will live the saddest, sorriest life that a man has ever lived. And when you die, you will go to hell forever. To be tortured."
stella to lorenza @holyrots — "You deserved good things as soon as you were born."
spirit to becky @scarestress — "I don't need to be better than you. I just need to be there. Does it feel good, or something? Finding ways to make yourself miserable? You look so ugly when you get so worked up."
spirit to delta @graveflwers —"When we die, we don't get heaven or hell. We don't get to let go. We get something in between, forever. And we're not part of our world anymore, but we know what happens on it. We just can't do anything to anybody who made us suffer. You never get to stop feeling—feeling. It hurts forever. It feels like this forever."
spirit to jon @sscarecrow — "Don't you know all of the twenty-year-old girls in the tri-state area all meet up, like, once a month, and we gossip, and we talk about you for, like, hours and hours and hours? We do. We really do. There's a groupchat, too."
spirit to josephine @ruinaa — "Fuck you for saying that. I'm so happy. And he takes care of me. I'm finally being taken care of. Finally, finally, finally. I love him so fucking much. Fuck, Jo!"
Another laugh. Mary scrapes her curls back from her face with stubby, clumsy fingertips and then reaches out to clasp at Aria's sleeve, catching it between her index and middle fingers. "But you love me," she says, not a question. The word stretches out in its surety. Looooooove. Her upturned face offers wide, slightly glazed eyes that are just too confident in herself.
She doesn't want to go home. She wants to go back to the bar, wants to go crawling into some phonebooth to start making calls to God-knows-who. After a beat she releases Aria and keeps walking, fumbling in her pockets for her cigarettes; the pack is nearly empty and crumpled, and the lighter clicks more than twice in the wind, but finally it's lit.
That first inhale is fantastic.
"I'm not getting in that fucking car," she says around the end of the cigarette, this (nasty, petulant, biting) to Miriam over her shoulder. "We'll walk. I can walk, can't I?" No answer, just a shrug. "It's only a few blocks. We'll walk." Mary looks at Aria again, bares teeth in a neat little grin. "You all done threatening me now?"
Such cloying, sickly affection won't charm the likes of Aria Bastard. She sneers and goes to yank her too-long, floppy shirt sleeve out of Mary's grip—but Mary has already withdrawn, which has the effect of causing Aria to flail around aimlessly. She resents Mary for this.
Unfortunately, however, Mary isn't wrong. Mary's one of the only people on earth Aria can stand—especially in this fucking city. Mary is dry and weary and so spiteful that she's hateful in a way that appeals to all the nasty parts of Aria nobody ever cares to indulge.
She's really shot herself in the foot, here.
Whie Mary lights up, Aria glares at Miriam. Something about Miriam's stature, her presence, makes Aria, all five-foot, ten-inches of her, feel miserably small.
"We'll see. I've got a few more threats in me."
Aria shortens her lanky-legged stride so that Mary can keep up. Whether Mariam does is not Aria's concern.
That gentleness lands wrong in the best way. From someone built like ruin and accustomed to leaving it behind, the careful pause feels unreal—like being handled after a fall, like being trusted not to break. Blood still sings under the skin, warmth fading into that familiar hollow ache.
Breath is habit more than need; closeness is the only real thing, an unspoken truce held in the space between assumed heartbeats.
The brush of lips to cheek sends a fault line through him. It isn't hunger. It isn't fear. It's being seen at his most monstrous and feeling safe to be so. In fact, he often feels safer here than he does in his own home.
When the distance snaps back into place and the words come, reality floods through the cracks. A small nod answers, reverent and tired. Satisfied and full. Fingers finally flex, careful as if the world might crumble at a touch.
"Yeah," Zachary clears his throat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he stands. He picks up the body. "I'll get rid of him, then I can help mop."
HARRIS DOESN'T HAVE IT IN HIM TO WONDER IF HE RECOGNIZES HIMSELF.
He acts so confidently, so thoughtlessly, that it doesn't occur to him that his current exhaustion is unnervingly out of character. He simply is who he is.
Zachary can romanticize this as long as he's able. Just as Harris can't self-criticize, he can't be too hard on Zachary.
Not in that sense.
Harris feels strangely warm. For a split second, one that Zachary's supernaturally-attuned senses could probably detect, Harris smiles in a manner so unguarded that it must mean something.
Zachary's so strong. One has to take a moment to admire it.
When Zachary returns, Harris has hardly cleaned anything at all. He looks, briefly and frighteningly, like a little boy playing in a sandbox. The sandbox is, of course, stained with blood.
"Do we gotta mop? Let's just, ah—let's just get outta here. There's no fuckin' point."
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as you may know, graves of @sscarecrow @threadpull @killerhosts fame is currently in my walls. they already had the opportunity to answer a riddle like some kind of eddie nygma and it really pissed me off. my queue shall keep you fed as the adventure continues. GOODBYE!
@petitsdieu said: i'm finally ready to listen to you.
HERE'S THE QUESTION: ARE HE AND HIS BRUISED EGO (and once-blue balls) READY TO LISTEN TO HER?
"Darling, I'm not sure what's left to say."
He's at a loss, here. Can't she hear his desperation? His heartbreak? A grown man's never had eyes look so wet and so sad. (He isnt' even actually crying.)
"And what's to say you won't change your mind again?" he wonders, soft and uncertain.
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