#voyeuriistic

[glowsgreen]

“Drink this.”

@voyeuriistic

[fatalsmile]

“Yeah — most of the group always has a stash somewhere.” She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the mask on top of her head. Leader? A soft laugh. “I guess I’d say co-leader, I guess, yeah.” If they had to have a leader or two it would be her and or Frank. “Let me guess though — you want some and Susie-q won’t share?” 

Rummaging through her small backpack, she pulled out a baggy of what Danny clearly wanted. “But of course, it’s not free.” She removed it from anywhere they could grab it, holding it close to her person. “What can you give me in return?” She asked, eyebrow quirking. Even now, nothing you had was free, there was always some sort of favor that had to be exchanged. 

“So? Think you got anything good enough you could do for me for this?”

@voyeuriistic said: "So... I heard you guys have weed. Tried to bargain with pink hair, but she wouldn't let me get a word in. You're, like, the leader around here, though, right?" ﹙♔.﹚— no prompt › accepting

[southrnweed]

cont. x @voyeuriistic

Thistle was a fighter. At least, he was when he felt there was something worth being a fighter for. It was hard to motivate this particular rat in the maze. Steady and persistent in his movement forward in this endless hell, he still lacked a certain motivation when he was the last man standing.

That wasn't to say he lacked motivation overall-—he just lacked that desperate need to escape, that hope that despite the odds he'd escape the trial. No, typically when Thistle was left by his lonesome he became motivated to share the wealth. Or, rather, the misery.

If he finds that weird fucking hatch along the way, fine...but Thistle's just intent on dragging this out and wasting time. Whether the cloaked figure got him or not, it wouldn't feel like a win. Thistle always made sure of that.

He flings right through an open window, hand pushing off the ledge of it just in time for the killer to swing and miss. Shack has its pallet and Thistle can likely spend the rest of his time here until the ground opens up and drags him down. He turns around, gaze snapping for Ghostface, ready to go through the motions of a good shack run.

But...? A thud of something against the shack wall-—the fucker's knife? Was he throwing a tantrum? It wasn't unheard of, Thistle had seen killer's just go stock still and give up. Hell, Thistle himself had thrown in the towel early before.

❝ Man, don't bullshit me. Ain't no fuckin' fool n' I seen the movies you're out of. ❞ Thistle couldn't say which he was but he knew the overall MO of this specific slasher variety and letting anyone go was NOT part of it.

❝ If that was your kind-hearted plan, y'wouldn't be havin' a damn conniption over not landin' that hit. ❞ he's coiled like a spring, ready to dart off should the other make any movement towards entering the shack.

❝ We gonna do this or y'gonna spend the rest of endgame moping? ❞

[getgcne]

@voyeuriistic / dbd survivor sc

The slight rustling of a cloaked fucker around a corner that some survivors could pick up on? Yeah, no. Brody didn't get the luxury of auditory warnings most of the time. Hell, visual warnings weren't always reliable either.

Something does catch in his peripheral though and it startles him enough to fuck up whatever wire he was attempting to tug at within the damned generator (he shouldn't have been allowed on those ever, frankly).

And it's all one fluid string of motions after that: he shocks himself on an exposed wire, he fucks up and makes the machine jolt in protest, he reflexively takes the tool in his hand and flings it at the figure with little regard for if it was friend or foe. And then he's up from his crouch, sneakers dragging in the dirt as he scrambles for footing.

[plantfed-blog]

please  grow  for  me,   @voyeuriistic ! 

  “   umm  ...   forgive  me  if  i’ve  misunderstood,  but  --  “  seymour’s  bad at this,   bad at  both people who appear to be openly frustrated  and  bad with girls and  bad  with  people  who  are  too close in his  personal  bubble,   and magenta,   alas,   is a  triple  whammy.   he  fumbles  verbally,  moves  up a  hand to  adjust  his  slightly - askew  spectacles  on his  nose,   before  dubiously,   nervously,   inquiring:    “  did you just say  you aren’t from  earth? “

[matriiiarch]

@voyeuriistic • summoned a sc

❝ THE CHILDREN ARE BESIDE THEMSELVES...  ❞ Leaning forward with hand outstretched towards her companion, she pulls the woman closer to take a seat alongside her, ❝ a trip to Transexual, Transylvania. It’s all they’ve talked about for weeks. We cannot thank you enough. ❞ Obviously since this was a special occasion at best — one not normally conducted — visiting an entirely different planet. The whole family was reeling with excruciating excitement. 

[pleaesure]

NEVER       A      KNOCK       ‘PON      DOOR     ,               entrance     obliged     with    not    a    care     in     the     world               –––              willfully            &            woefully     ignorant    of    the    sleeping    domestic    curled    in    sheets    .              he    is    demanding            &           grandiose    ,             like    all    things    he    does    ,              as     the    reason    for    late    night     intrusion    is    spoken              :                     ❝            magenta    .            i’m     bored    .              ❞                   /                 @voyeuriistic      ♡   .

[aaahandyman]

❛           –––       magenta     .            ❜             wreckage       &      rubble      :      it    suits    them   .       beckoning    to    flaming    sister    with    guttural    utterance    ,         amidst    the    once    chaotic          –––           bloody     in    sharpness    of    gaze    ,          &      the    fresh    lashes    tore    into    tearing    suit    .         dejection    in    steps    ,        slow     to    cross    worn    carpet    .         mind    is    static   ,        buzzing    with    the    grotesque       &      gruesome   ,        stained    red    with    undercurrents    of    cold    vengeance   .          jarring    ,       jolting    in    his    silence         ;        he    comes    to    her    for    the    wounds    that    he    cannot    reach   .           /       @voyeuriistic    .