#// here's the starter! I hope it's okay :)

[avastyetwats]

Vampire AU Starter for @fornassau <3

—————

“What about him, Captain?”

Golden orbs looked in the direction his Quartermaster had gestured, taking a moment to observe the man in question. He stood from the table he’d been sat at with some other men and a couple of whores, and the second he stepped forward, he stumbled. He grabbed onto the table for support and laughed while his men laughed at him, clearly inebriated which had Flint grimacing. “Too intoxicated.” Which he was not in the mood for tonight. He was fucking starving, but not enough to make himself drunk. Or high. Which many of these men currently were. If not incredibly aroused thanks to the whores scattered about. Their minds were filled with nothing but filth and it disgusted the Captain to the point of silencing them.

“That one?” Gates nodded to another that just walked by them and Flint followed his line of sight, watching.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Smells as though he hasn’t had a bath in days. Weeks, even.”

He heard his Quartermaster sigh. “Captain, most of these men, if not all of them, have likely not bathed in several days.” Why did he have to be so damn picky? Oh right, because he was a vampire.

Flint shoots him a glare. “You think me picky, but would you not want to enjoy your meal? Or would you be content with molded bread and meat?”

Gate huffs. “I hate when you do that.”

Flint grins, knowing he was talking about the mind reading. “A habit. Forgive me.” He chuckles and Gate rolls his eyes, but there’s a smirk there now. He was the only man - the only human and, quite honestly, being - that James Flint trusted. They’d been friends for years now, sailing together for just as long, and he was the only one that knew of his Captain’s… condition. He’s kept his secret for this long and was always good at removing any suspicion among the ship that Flint may not be human. He was simply a different Captain from all others. Both highly respected and feared. His name was known far and wide and here in Nassau, especially.

He wasn’t the only Vampire, of course, but he was the only vampire pirate Captain. There was no other like him.

The doors to the tavern open and in walk some more men, more pirates and Flint’s hums, nodding in their direction. “Him.” He mutters, eyes darkening as his hunger grows, following his target - his soon-to-be-meal - as he takes a seat at one of the empty tables with his mates.

Gates groans. “Really, Captain? Him?“ He clearly wasn’t approving of his choice. And for good reason. “Captain Vane has already taken notice of some of his crewmen goin’ missing and because you’re his favorite person,” that was said with heavy sarcasm. “He’s sure you’ve got somethin’ to do with it. Now, if you could please explain to me, as to why you’re so keen on making that worse?”

Flint heard his Quartermaster’s words, grinning the entire time but not bothering to look at him. Especially not when he walked in. Charles fucking Vane. Flint’s grin grew wider, fangs almost bearing. Gates was right. Flint knew that and that’s exactly why he wanted that particular man. Because he enjoyed fucking with Charles Vane. His greatest rival, his biggest threat, and the most powerful of Captains and men, aside from himself, of course. They’d been enemies for a long while now - always trying to one up the other and trying to take the biggest prize. Trying to become the biggest and baddest name in Nassau and on all the seven seas.

But there was more to it than that… more to them. Though neither would ever fucking admit it. But deep down, Flint knew. And the way his cock hardened from the mere sight of him sometimes made that obvious, but only to himself.

Finally, he looked to Gates, his eyes even darker now and his voice a low, hungry growl. “I want him.”

[inkshadow]

❝ yes, yes, i'll pick some up on the way - ❞ his words are cut short as chance dealt his fate today, his eyes locking on a girl whose face still haunts him in his dreams in the most beautiful way. couldn't focus on his mother's words that continue to trickle from his phone before he tells her that he needs to go, as if he needed to focus on something while waiting for his coffee order. she was on a date this time... at the very place he introduced her to. despite the pain ebbing in his chest, he supposed that karmic retribution was the only thing that could make this right, and he had no reason to be jealous. not after he'd ghosted her for months on end.

closed starter for @vvhimsicals

[blitzbuckz]

℧ :: starter with / @pinklocksoflove

【𐂃】 ❝ Kick ass outfit, tacky heels though. ❞ undertone banter, that's all it was. He didn't meant any of it, simply begrudging the rockstar for having an attire that he wanted for himself.

[vendettavalor]

As Above, So Below

⚔️ For @nemekii 's Hoppy Hopscotch! ⚔️

The years had been far from kind to the factory and its inhabitants.

Well, its remaining inhabitants.

After the Hour of Joy, things had been so perfect. So peaceful. The sweet blissful freedom they experienced - free from the labs where they were poked and prodded and burned and tortured, the cages where they were scent to sleep in the cold loneliness as punishment for any slight or transgression - was a welcome mercy that they'd long prayed on the Prototype to deliver to them. And when He had, it had all been so perfect. They had their justice, their vengeance. And for a time, they only thing they needed to worry about was how best to occupy their time in their newfound freedom.

But as a wise man once said, nothing good can last.

And very soon, the good times grew dull. With time, all the games in the toy factory had been played. All the toys played with. All the survivors hunted. Many began to grow stir-crazy as they realized that autonomy and freedom from restraint was not enough. Many still had homes and families on the outside that they wanted to see. Playcare's artificial outdoors paled in comparison to cherished memories of real, fresh air. The warm sun. The soft green grasses. Soon enough, those that revered the Prototype for His efforts in freeing them began to rebel against Him, challenge Him. They became heretics, and they were shunned with accordingly.

Then, the lean times began. The bodies disappeared. The food ran out. They began to starve. Tensions rose and in their desperation, it became a deadly game of survival of the fittest. Kill or be killed. The shunned became the hunted, until only the strongest or the most loyal remained. Those truly clever and skilled managed to hide and survive against all odds. But so long as the factory remained closed, they remained trapped.

Catnap was truly blessed. Through it all, he had remained faithful and devoted to the Prototype. He carried out His will without question, killing those He deemed unfit and unworthy, fasting at His command, and accepting the scraps of food He offered in reward. Playcare was his territory and he was its guardian. He handled the heretics wherever they appeared, keeping alive those who followed his god as he did and hunting down those that didn't. And though some part of him did hold an inkling of remorse, the past was behind him and therefore easy to push down and ignore.

The feelings of guilt would have consumed him faster than any hunger - but so long as he kept his distance from any reminders of what he once was before all of this, he could press on.

At least, that was what he had told himself. And he had just about convinced himself it was true. But now... now he wasn't so sure.

Not when he could swear he was picking up on the familiar scent of peppermint through the overwhelming smog of poppies and lavender.

[chosesun]

he's snuck off again. he has a tendency to do that when Owen isn't looking - a habit he no doubt needs to break, because it's bound to get him into trouble one of these days. of course, he can't help himself. Luke wants to explore, see more of the world, see what all it has to offer, and the farm just isn't it. he's curious, he's always been curious. it's probably one of his biggest downfalls.

as he sneaks off, he's got a little screwdriver with him, holding it in his hand. he'd been tinkering with a machine moments before he noticed Owen's attention was no longer on him and dashed away before he could be stopped. it's not that Luke dislikes his uncle, because that is in fact not the truth, but sometimes the boy feels smothered - like he doesn't get a chance to breathe and he never gets to do what he wants. it's frustrating.

he's taken the same path he had when that lady had come for him - he's still not sure why she chased after him because his aunt and uncle won't tell him, but he'd never been more scared than he had that night. perhaps it's because of these thoughts that had him all spooked when he turned around and came face-to-face with a familiar face staring down at him. he yelps in surprise, startled, tightening his grip on his screwdriver before realization dawns on him and he exhales a breath of air. "oh. it's you. your name is Ben, right ? i met you before. did you follow me?"

@fallesto liked for babu Luke (for Obi-Wan)

[strayslost]

In another life, perhaps Ryunosuke would've looked at Kyusaku and seen someone who could understand. After all... if anyone should know the sting of Dazai's rejection, it would be them. As far as Ryunosuke knows, Kyusaku's fate of being shut away from the world and imprisoned was all thanks to Dazai - and even putting Dazai aside... he's sure that, just like Ryunosuke, their life has been full of pain from the very start.

As it is, though, right now - Ryunosuke feels very little. Perhaps it's a sign of his selfishness, his true nature as a heartless beast unable to feel a thing for someone else. All he wants has always been the same thing - to find a reason to live - and Kyusaku can't provide him that. In fact, sometimes seeing them stings, when he thinks of how they've been rejected even in spite of the power they hold... if they don't stand a chance of gaining Dazai's respect, what chance does Ryunosuke stand, as weak as he is now? What awaits him at the end of the road he's dedicated his life to following?

Thoughts like that aren't ones he wants to face, so he pushes them away. But something is strange about his feelings today. Because while that blank, apathetic smog of nothingness he feels should have him turning away and leaving, there's something that stops him... driving him to speak to Kyusaku for reasons even he doesn't understand.

"And?" he responds to the child's question with an almost-empty gaze, something unidentifiable smoldering underneath. "Tell me... why would you come to me of all people for a reason like that?"

@theircurse ( starter for yumeno! )

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@applcyed liked for a starter!)

Just what compelled the blue seraphim to leave the sanctuary of Heaven to blindly teleport down to Hell? Perhaps it was naive curiosity, or the feeling of being coddled and protected too much from the darker truths in the universe. It really did not matter now, for the deed was done and Lucid now found himself in the elegant chamber of an unknown palace. Before him sat a throne, empty at the moment yet still imposing a regal power that both awed and unnerved the young seraphim.

He dared not approach it, instead opting to investigate the tapestry’s and portraits that lined the walls. An imposing figure was in every one of them, and its resemblance to Lucid uncanny. He stopped before one of the single portraits, taking in every detail of the demon. The seraphim had only seen a few portraits and sculptures of the fallen angel in Heaven, hidden away in the private sector of archangel halls. His was always covered up by sheets, as if a block out some ungodly sight that threatened to taint the beauty of the hall. They always made the young seraphim wonder about his predecessor…

A sound alerted Lucid that he was not alone, turning in the direction to face what or whoever it was. The feathers of his wings ruffled, eyes widening. Of Father, he hadn’t just teleported anywhere in Hell…

Lucid had teleported right into Lucifer Morningstar home!

[dragonheartsunflower]

@outofthiisworld

"Stars are one of my favourite things. Do you like them too, miss? I-it's such a silly question, I know. Sorry. I guess I'm just t-trying to be friendly? Social interaction sometimes is too scary for me. S-so I might stutter, or sound weird, or go off on a weird thought train that ends up going nowhere whatsoever."

Anxiety is a bitch. But Lucas is trying to strike a conversation up with Ophelia regardless of his brain screaming that he's an idiot for even trying to not look awkward or like he's just being a rude jerk. Too often Lucas gets mistaken for somebody who's a "brat" when he truly isn't.

Or is that just a Tazmily thing? To be accused of being rude?

[venomousjorogumo]

Harumi had been asleep when she was magically teleported to a foreign continent. She awoke dazed at first, but fear quickly began to set in when she realized she was far from home. The Jorōgumo frantically tried to shift into Spider form, but she felt far too weak to use her abilities. "Are my powers nullified?" Turning around, she spotted someone nearby and instantly recoiled. "You...! Are you the one who brought me here? Where are we?" The terrain was rocky and unfamiliar, not at all like the soft soil in the forest she called home.

@hoovedrycal

[utopideal]

How does one define hope? To More, it's been something he's always reached for, but... somehow, it scares him sometimes even deeper than despair.

Right now, he shouldn't still be here alive in any form at all. Without his other half to reunite with, More's fate should've been to vanish into nothingness after the King's Magic had fulfilled it's purpose and a new King was crowned. But he's been wrong about so many things that perhaps it's no surprise that he would be wrong about another. Or perhaps instead, annihilation still yet awaits him, and the time he has now is only a short epilogue before it finally runs out...

That last possibility is why it's hard... to have hope. More know deep down that he shouldn't still continue to exist. His sins are too deep; already once even the cause of his death... and what purpose he had in being here has already been fulfilled. But knowing that doesn't change the desire buried in the depths of his heart. He wanted to travel the world again... alongside the friend he'd come to value so much. His son. To see the new world he'd create, no matter how selfish a wish it might be - maybe it's a dream he couldn't quite bring himself to cast away.

"It seems we meet again." More smiles as he speaks, but as gentle and calm as his voice is, there's something hidden just beneath the surface. Joy - and though he does not tremble... perhaps a hint of fear, as well.

"I must confess, I don't understand how this meeting came to be. I thought that my time in this world had come to an end... I don't suppose you would know anything about it?"

@tenebriism ( starter for luca! )

[assassin-imp]

@princestolasofthearsgoetia

Turns out, there are some issues in life that you can’t ghost-fuck your way through. Which, frankly, left Blitzø stumped. He’d tried everything! The bullshit apology tour didn’t make him feel better. The weeks of isolation, comfort junk food and trash tv didn’t work. Even fucking up a possessor demon didn’t rile him up the way it usually would. It was almost like, maybe, possibly, he had left some things unresolved and unsaid with Stolas. Normally Blitzø would scoff at the idea: feelings were for pussies and talking about feelings made him want to crawl out of his skin with discomfort. However, Blitzø was getting desperate. It seemed worth a shot. Hey, what’s the worse that could happen? He’d feel like shit. Oh wait! He already did.

The wheels of the I.M.P van rolled to a stuttering stop outside the grand, gated, mansion that Stolas called home. Blitzø swallowed hard, summoning up the bravado that he would need to armour himself with in order to make it to the front door. A short walk had never been so difficult: his breathing felt shallow, his tail flicking wildly from side to side, his hands all clammy where they were clasped around a bottle of wine. A gift. A dumb fucking idea. It was just cheap shit compared to what the owl usually drank. Blitzø prowled towards the house. It was when he had eventually arrived at the front door that he did the absolute unthinkable: he rang the doorbell. The imp could hear the way the bell resonated through the building.

As mere second passed, the churning in the pit of his stomach worsened. What is Stolas wouldn’t talk to him? What if the demon had moved on already? What if he was perfectly fine-Hell, what if he was better because of their time apart? Fuck. What if Stolas was doing some important shit? He should’ve texted to let the owl know he was coming - but then there was no way he’d answer the door! Satan’s ass, this sucked.

[clochanamarch]

these days, peace is a rare and precious treasure to find. not the sort of thing to disregard, even if it is found in the simple act of watching @nightmdic work. don't ask aisling what it is that the brunette is doing, of course. her focus is fixed on the way her brow furrows a touch, the miniscule movements of her lips, the patient and meticulous motions of her skilled hands. she could be signing a check, or saving a life. at this point, all aisling really registers is just how calm and steady everything seems to be in her presence. " where did you learn how to do this so well? " / s.c.

[brooklynbred-moved]

𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙇𝙊𝙂 ... 《 𝘾𝙇𝙊𝙎𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙀𝙍. 》 @ironifiicd.

the mission had been going great , until suddenly when it was going horribly wrong. that seemed to be the running trend with him. just when he thought things would go fine without incident ... then BOOM! another thing to flip the table on everything. steve had almost gotten used to the dance. almost. they were tracking a HYDRA base , which should have been his first clue to be cautious. he didn't ... and that captain paid for it.

he didn't realize what had happened at the time. he had thought it was just normal stun baton that had been suped up , not realizing that what it had actually been designed to do was attack the enhanced cells in his body. slowly returning them to their original state. what he thought had been muscle aches from the stun , wasn't that at all.

with the mission accomplished in the long run , the team returned back to the compound , and everyone went about the normal post mission traditions , but steve retired early. he'd been feeling off , and hoped some decent sleep would help. he managed to get ready for bed and asleep before any of the noticeable changes would start to happen.

it wouldn't be until the next morning when he got up to go on his morning run , and found a pain he hadn't felt in a long time , that he realized something was wrong.

steve didn't know what to do. he made it to the bathroom in time to empty the contents of his stomach , ( that wasn't something he missed ) and realized shortly after that he needed some help. and tony was the first one he thought of to help him in this. everything hurt. but he managed to fish his phone out of his sweats , after kicking the door to the bathroom in his room closed , and started texting tony ... while trying to control his breathing.

𝙎𝙈𝙎 - 𝙏𝙊𝙉𝙔 𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙍𝙆 - 𝙎𝙀𝙉𝙏. i need you. in my room. come alone. don't tell anyone. NOW!

he sent the message in haste , before letting his head fall back and gently thud the back of his head against the wall. trying to control his panic until tony could get there. and trying not to look in the floor length mirror where he could see the version of his body he hadn't seen besides in video since the 40's.

[vendettavalor]

Old Wounds

⚔️ Closed starter for @rathalascendant ⚔️

The scene was every bit as grim and worrisome as the report had made it seem.

A disturbance in the woodlands nearby one of the many villages dotting the land. The ground quaked violently, the roars and calls of monsters in its depths rattling the trees as they struggled. Amidst the chaotic eruption of clashing sounds, someone swore they heard human voices shouting the clang of iron. Hunters? Trappers? It seemed a likely explanation for the disturbance. But when all had quieted and a few brave souls and their felyne companions had scraped up the nerve to venture out and see for themselves, they found... nothing.

The grass was disturbed and a few tress had been knocked down, marked with splintered holes where it seemed like something had been driven into the wood. The soil was pressed in smooth lines- too smooth. The heavy weight of a cage or a vehicle of some sort? There were obvious signs of a struggle as well. Claw marks on bark and on stones, flipped chunks of smashes materials like refined wood and metal scattered about, and some lingering smell of smoke from smoke bombs.

It certainly seemed like a poaching incident. But from who?

All that had been left behind was some sort of iron amulet with a strange symbol carved into it. The shape was odd, uncanny. Made of straight line that jutted out and ended abruptly, with the only clearly discernible shape being an eye in the center of the mess.

What could it mean?

[lucidrims]

˖ ࣪ . ࿐ ♡ ˚ . suho coming thru for @fairygrden !

            "  you  do  know  alcohol  isn't  going  to  solve  your  problems,  right  ?  just  making  sure  you  know  .  .  .  "

[bcdluckstumblcd]

There's a smile under his mask as Toga thanks him for his help with her hair. Jin tells her it's no big deal (followed immediately by his voice in another tone, stating the fact he WILL be charging next time). The girl skips away, and Twice turns his attention to his boss. There's a moment where his gaze rests curiously on their hair.

"Hey boss! Want a new do' before the salon is closed for good." He pats the barstool he's standing in front of.

@newsave ♥'d for a starter