❝. ━ corrupted whispers ❜

[Asherwy]

hueheuhe
my pleasure blissybloo
'tis my life mission to ruin names for everyone~
but in my opinion, it wasn't vague at all :3
you see, I always forget to read the blurbs for the books i read
so i'm kinda used to it
but sometimes it's a problem
like The Knife of Never Letting Go for example
I was so confused because I thought the dog was talking
and then it was actually its thoughts
but the book itself was quite bad
ANYWAY I LOVE THIS <3

[peachy keen-]

i ... don't like this chapter very much, but i've rewritten it a couple times,
and i think this is about as good as it's gonna get. well, you live and learn.
░░░░░░░░░░ ❛ ８７３ ｗｏｒｄｓ
ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ｏｎｅ ❜ ░░░░░░░

Thorne never did tell Beatrice about that night. That night wasn’t the only time the whispers plagued his mind, though. Nearly every night after, that taunting voice filled his head with threats and false promises. It drove him to the brink of insanity. He didn’t sleep most nights, and when he did, his dreams were of the Belladonna and her followers, called the ‘Tellers’.

No, he never told her about the voices in his head. That is, until they stopped, leaving with two eerie words: It’s time.

It was late in the evening, after the sun had melted away behind the icy fields, leaving only streaks of pink in the charcoal sky, when he told her. The twins were currently in Beatrice’s room, where they spent most of their time. The two hadn’t been allowed to sleep in the same room since they were eight, but Thorne had moved everything but his bed into Beatrice’s room, the larger of the two. Thorne sat down at his desk and picked up an old sketchbook that he hadn’t touched in years. Beatrice found an old book on the Tropicals in their mother’s rooms, and was now laying on her bed. Half of her body was hanging over the edge of the bed, and her vanilla hair kissed the floor.

“Beatrice,” Thorne said, drumming his pencil on the wooden desk. “Can I tell you something?”

“Mm,” Beatrice mumbled absently, most of her attention still on the book in her hands.

“I need you to listen, though. It’s important.”

“I am listening,” she reassured half-heartedly.

“Beatrice, look at me. Put that book down,” demanded Thorne impatiently. When she did not listen, merely to annoy him, he slammed his sketchbook down on the desk. “Beatrice! It’s … it’s about the Belladonna.”

With sudden interest, Beatrice closed her book and sat up. “Okay, I’m listening. But stop tapping that stupid pencil on your desk—it’s driving me absolutely insane.”

Mumbling an empty apology, Thorne dropped his pencil, laying his hands neatly in his lap. “Okay,” he began, clearing his throat. “I…well…I’ve been hearing things.”

Beatrice’s eyes brightened. “So Mother has been talking to the Council about doing something about the—”

“No!” Thorne interrupted, pressing his palm to his temple. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, like … in … my head.”

“In … in your head? You mean … voices?” Beatrice asked slowly, carefully picking her words. When Thorne nodded his agreement, she bounced up from her bed and paced the floor, mumbling incoherently. “Oh, no, oh no, no, no, no! Don’t tell me you’re going crazy! You—You know what happened to Oliver. He went insane and next thing everyone knew, he’d burned down his own home and gotten sent to the nut house! Please don’t tell me you—”

“Oh, stop it! I’m not Oliver and I’m not crazy!” Thorne insisted, setting his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to sit. “But … you’ve got to listen very carefully and … and don’t freak out. Promise?”

Beatrice arched a brow, but nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sure.”

“The voices … most of the time, they talked about you. More like, threatened you … your life, that is.”

Beatrice bit down on her lip, hard, until the flesh tore. She twined a lock of her hair around her finger. “For how long?”

“The first night that you told me about the Belladonna. They’ve stopped, but I’m sure they’ll be back.” Thorne paused, and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. “To be honest, I’d thought you’d have … a reaction. You’re not crying or anything, though.”

“I’m not that type of person. You know that better than anyone,” Beatrice mumbled, picking at her cuticles absently.

“I know. Sorry. I just …” he faded out as she suddenly brushed past him, grabbed the nearest bag and hiked it up to her shoulders. “What’s that? What are you doing?”

“It’s an emergency bag. Filled with necessities like water, blankets, and dehydrated food.”

“Where’d you even get that?”

“Not important. You coming or not?”

“Coming where? You haven’t even told me anything.” Frustration bubbled up in Thorne as he attempted to grab his sister’s sleeve. She writhed away, tearing the fabric in the process. It didn’t seem to faze her in the least, however, as she left the room, taking the stairs to the main floor two at a time and left the house through the back door, slamming it behind her. Thorne followed suit, jogging in order to catch up.

Once outside, Thorne wrapped his coat tighter around himself. The wind sent furious shivers up his spine. He was an Arctic, but had never grown accustomed to the cold. On the other hand, Beatrice could go hours without much less than a sweater in the dead of winter. He did eventually catch up to her and matched her quickening pace.

“Don’t try to talk me out of it. I’m not going back,” Beatrice insisted angrily.

“I’m not going to. I’m coming with you.”

Beatrice’s steps faltered for a moment, then cast a grateful glance at Thorne. “Thanks.”

“Yeah. But you can answer this one question, if you’d like.”

“What’s that?” she asked quizzically.

“Where are we going?”

Beatrice grinned, taking his cold hand in her warm one. “On an adventure.”

← ＩＮＴＥＲＬＵＤＥ

ＣＨＡＰＴＥＲ ＴＷＯ →

[casimir]

oh my gOD
bliss this is gReAT
gahhh i wish i could do what you do!
ugh this is magnificent blissy.
really. it seriously is.
keep going.
why are you not published yet

[peachy keen-]

oh my gOD
bliss this is gReAT
gahhh i wish i could do what you do!
ugh this is magnificent blissy.
really. it seriously is.
keep going.
why are you not published yet

awWWWWW
THANK YOU SO MUCH CAS ♥
you've made my day ;w;
i actually am working on getting one of my works published
but it's kind of caving in.
like HOW COULD MY WORK COMPARE WITH ALL OF THOSE AMAZING AUTHORS OUT THERE
so yeah
thanks again! you're amazing and so is all of your writing.
i must go now, though. the water for my noodles is boiling
-flies into the sunset-

[noal]

my friend's name is oliver...
R.I.P. merliotfedora
...
but you are an amazing author yourself
how could you not fit in?

[peachy keen-]

my friend's name is oliver...
R.I.P. merliotfedora
...
but you are an amazing author yourself
how could you not fit in?

watch out - they may become a raging lunatic and burn down their house and get sent to an insane asylum
just kidding
i'm sure your oliver is lovely cx
and thank you! that means a lot to me ♥

[casimir]

ok its lecture time.
you would make it, bliss. and don't ever think you wouldn't. the first step to getting published is loving you and this special thing that came from you. It is scary and intimidating and absolutely nerve wracking but how great would you feel if you walked into a bookstore and oh hey look, that's your book on the shelf. No author is the same and each can bring things to the table that others simply don't know how or have not learned how to do yet - but you can learn. You can breathe, you can grow, you can fly! Writing is art and just like art, art takes practice and can always. always. always. change. But you are you and no one else could ever do what you do - so embrace it and L-O-V-E it because the more you love what you do, the farther you're gonna go. And always remember in the face of doubt that the road will be rough - pack for rocky rivers, no matter what - but when you reach that shore... you will never ever regret that you stayed on your path and did not veer away. You are a magnificent writer, Bliss: and do not tell yourself otherwise, or let someone say differently for that matter. Because you are an author - a wonderful one. And you have a story to tell. So you can't let anyone or anything stop you - not even yourself.

[Asherwy]

-applauds cas-
THAT. RIGHT. THERE.
AND BLISS.
give me the next chapter now
not even joking
like, now
but seriously you just taught me a new word
'cuticles'
I SHALL BEGIN USING THAT

also
beat rice

[peachy keen-]

that was so inspiring, cas. i am going to write that down and frame it on my wall. i literally am going to. and, when i publish my first book, i will make sure to add that message somewhere in the acknowledgements or something.
dunno how that works.
but it will be in there.

@ash
NO
YOU CAN'T USE THAT WORD
IT'S COPYRIGHTED BY ME
just kidding. you can use it.
also
shut up. you ruined my life xD

[casimir]

well you know what, girl? It is so true and you are so worth every single word. You keep your head up and you surge right on through and you do what you do, because no one does you better than you. And you are great - and that's all that matters. It kills me that you as well as so many talented writers here and out there have such a hard time keeping their chins above water, but you know something? You're just simply too strong to drown. And the second you start telling that to yourself, is the moment you will float on to a breathtaking shore you're never gonna want to leave. i don't care if i sound ridiculous or cheesy but i mean every single word of this and what i put above. don't you ever lose faith in yourself, because it will be a damn shame to lose something so bright and so very full of potential. the world sucks in so many ways, but good god you bring such an amazing thing to it. I'm very sick and you know what? if I didn't have stories like yours - and rose's and cap's and ash's and every body else's - I would have nowhere to go to escape. God I got carried away ehhh but just. please. take what I said seriously no matter how full of sharp cheddar I seem to be. Because I mean it bliss. I really mean it. and by all freaking means do frame, do whatever you have to to. just. keep. going. never stop. ever.