#//Hope this works!

[assassin-imp]

@princepsxastra

Turns out, there are some issues in life that you can’t ghost-fuck your way through. Which, frankly, left Blitzø utterly 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. Really fucking desperate. It seemed worth a shot. Hey, what’s the worse that could happen? He’d feel like shit. Oh wait! He already did.

In hindsight, the emergency shots of tequila that he’d taken before getting into his van were probably a bad idea. With a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, Blitzø swerved erratically on the road, slamming down on the horn whenever an unsuspecting driver got even remotely in his way. “Learn to drive, JACKASS!” he tossed a middle finger at the driver through his open window. The wheels of the I.M.P van rolled to a stuttering stop outside the grand, gated, mansion that Stolas called home. Head hazy and heart hammering violently in his chest, Blitzø swallowed hard, summoning up the bravado like an armour that he would need to make it through this conversation.

The imp considered ringing the doorbell, he really did, but it felt weird. — and admittedly, a small part of him couldn’t stomach the knowledge that Stolas would never willingly open the door to him at the moment. Or, so he was convinced. Instead, he clambered over the garden wall, only mildly scraping his knee when he lost his footing and tumbled to the floor into a rose bush. “Fuckin’ bullshit spiky plants,” he grumbled, brushing a petal off his shoulder as he gazed up towards Stolas’ balcony. Trepidation glimmered in his wide, worried, eyes. The warm light emanating from the window, and stolas-shaped shadow passing across the walls, suggested that the bird was in his bedroom. Hopefully alone. But, hey! If not, Blitzø could always just launch himself from the balcony. Convenient, huh?

With the ease awarded to him by practice, he clawed his way up the wall of the building, landing unceremoniously on the balcony with a small ‘oof’ sound. “Stolas!” he greeted with a falsely bright and easy demeanour despite of the crushing weight in his chest - he wondered if Stolas could see through it? Fuck. Blitz could barely look the prince in the eyes. “I…uh, I really need to talk, you ready to ‘do words’ with me yet?”

[sillymuses]

@docnefarious

"Oh hey, you're that cool looking robot every monster's been mumbling about. Draculaura said you were an engineer, right? I've got a question for you. Is it like, possible to make a thing that'll trap people into paintings?" Her? Being bitter over that time a ghost hunter trapped her Ghoulma in a painting? Absolutely.

[the-storm-chaser]

🎄 + Darkin Chara

//I went with the 'Krampus' vibe

[the-demons-son]

Closed starter for @oftomorrow

"But what about Gotham?"

Bruce had turned to his son, clearly exasperated at the line of interrogation. He would prefer to stay on-world if he could. "I've asked Clark to step in. He'll be staying at the Manor until I return."

When Damian had called Richard to complain, his brother had told him he was lucky he'd get to spend some quality time with his Uncle Clark and to relax. It had only infuriated him more.

All of his siblings had a certain type of relationship with the alien. All of them except him. Perhaps due to him being the youngest, he wasn't sure. At some point he'd developed some unspoken grudge against the man, who, admittedly, was only ever polite to him when they had crossed paths. Helpful too, infuriatingly. But still, he wasn't looking forward to an extended visit.

Nevertheless, Damian was there waiting for his arrival to the manor. Richard had told him he needed to give him a chance, so he would. In his own way.

[subjectivemortality]

cont. from here

@fides-nihil

"Mm." She leans against a wall, casual enough on the surface that it belies the worry she carries, dressed in a simple sun dress with her hair tied back in a bow and her expression very carefully schooled to be less judgmental than she feels. Belle is a fretter by nature, but it's difficult to fret over someone who won't let you. Not difficult enough to make her stop, much to her continued chagrin.

The telltale glow under her skin is carefully bated for the moment - no need to send the poor guy into a frenzy witnessing miracles or some such.

"What I mean to say is that you could, theoretically, take a.... brief reprieve. Does it not encourage quiet contemplation from time to time in those holy books of yours?" Matthew 6:6, Isaiah 30:15, to name a few. It makes her skin crawl to recommend, but it's far easier to meet people where they're at than to beat them about the head and shoulders with simple logic.

[kingcenred]

@ircnwrought gets a period starter for Aelin!

"You must be aware that I do not takes sides," he mused, eyeing his unexpected guest with interest. It was a well-known fact that Essetir remained neutral in any conflicts which did not directly impact them. He had few allies - with such a notoriously ferocious army, what need did he have of them?

"I am wondering whether you are desperate, or particularly confident in your ability to offer me something worth my alliance?" he queried, his fingers idly toying with the stem of his wine glass.

[cutdeepshiver]

@dexter-the-inkling-boy

"Sorry there, buddo. Didn't mean to snap at ya and stuff. Things have been a little bit stressful lately. Maybe I need to hit a couple of turf battles. Let out some pent-up steam, y'know?"

[rxxlestrange]

It had been a hectic few days. Rabastan liked to keep himself occupied, never one to sit idle. He despised laziness; laziness indicated deficiency. Rabastan was diligent, determined to succeed in his endeavours. He needed to work to remain in control, for while he was applying himself to other tasks, his mind was not roving over his intolerable state as an inactive Death Eater. The devil made work for idle hands. So he kept his engaged, lest he be tempted to wrap them around a Mudblood's neck.

Presently, he was sitting beside the fire in a quiet bar, in the sort of high-backed chair that looked comfortable but radiated shadowed hostility. He had turned its imposing frame to such an angle that he could see who entered the room. So he noted Pen promptly when they arrived, and that was enough to make him abandon his newspaper and place his ice-cold firewhisky onto the table beside him. Gesturing to the chair opposite, he indicated for Pen to join him. Though he didn't know them at all, he knew that they had been imprisoned and later released. He wanted to learn more. If Pen were like-minded, if they truly supported the Dark Lord's cause, he was sure they'd join him.

@penkneeling

[b4rredteeth]

@smckesprite

Pesor wanted this new family, they weren't sure if they were a solid part of the family yet, since Dorothy and them had only been together for four months, but they wanted to be. Their mom wasn’t around, and that was all the family they’d ever had. And Dorothy’s family was huge. So when they asked Addison if they wanted to go grocery shopping with them, they feared being told off. Instead they stood waiting in front of Addison’s house with their grocery bags, sending Dorothy a quick text, their old-school Nokia making a fun buzz sound. 

[n0rthernattitude]

who: mia + dom (@castlcscrumbling) where: salem library

it was movie night. sure, they could just as easily have found something on one of the various streaming services they all shared, but sometimes, that took up so much time and they argued so much that tensions got high. so, when it was his turn to pick what they watched, dom often stopped by the library to pick up a couple of dvd's instead. he had a couple of slasher flicks in hand as he waited in line behind old mrs. newbury, impatiently checking his watch as she asked the librarian's opinion on yet another beach read she'd picked up off the new releases shelf. a sigh fell from his lips, foot tapping against the floor, free hand combing through his hair. why wasn't there a self checkout for the library yet? that would make his life so much easier. just as dom was contemplating his life choices, he turned to glance over his shoulder for one of the other librarians. they really needed some kind of bat signal for when one of them was being held hostage by a patron with too much time on their hands. he turned a little bit too quickly. the person behind him was closer than he'd anticipated and in the movement, he sent his dvd's and her armful of picture books to the floor.

"shit," dom said, immediately dropping to a knee to collect their fallen belongings and backtracking. "i mean, sorry. didn't know you were right-" when he looked up through his hair to look the person he'd knocked into in the eye, he was caught off balance and dropped the books again. amelia wilson was the last person he expected to see in the salem library on a random monday afternoon. "mimi?" he was still holding her books. he held them out wordlessly.

[howlonwheels]

closed starter for @moonpains when/where: morning, anywhere

He ain't her pack. She owes him nothing. But still, Arleen can't help but feel a scratch of guilt in her chest like a flea -- last time she didn't help one of her fellow true wolves, she had to turn tail and leave Kansas all together. Doesn't help much that Eventide has a meek, unsteady alpha unable to keep their fellow beasts in check. It's a mixed pack, but Arleen will extend a courtesy just this once. Until a weaker-willed wolf goes off and makes an abomination -- but even true wolves could be made to heel.

She doesn't admittedly know much about this August, but she knows enough to say that a string of animal attacks all come back to one of their kind. And she knows it ain't Warwick running wild, nor bellies-up Harford. And it doesn't have the mutt stink of Cerberus on it. But Arleen knows enough to be careful because any cornered animal would bite back, no matter if they shared fur and fangs in the light of the moon.

"'Scuse me, are you August Choi?" She approaches without a badge. This isn't police business, not this time. This is wolf to wolf. "My name's Arleen Bailey. Warwick. I hope you don't mind me saying, but you look... tired. Everything alright there?"

[sillymuses]

@spiderben2011

"Huh? Oh, right. The uh, the cold doesn't really affect me all that much anymore. I've got some good heat to me." More than that actually but they don't need to know any more than what's necessary. "Comes in pretty handy on snowy days like this."

[piers-official]

(Closed Starter for @underground-boss-clay)

As soon as the siblings land in the dusty old town, it's clear there's a stark difference between Driftviel and Opelucid. Marnie looks around in curious wonder and hums.

"Mr. Clay was right, it is sorta like Motostoke, or maybe Stow-on-Side?"

"C'mon, Mar." Piers ushers his younger sister to follow by his side, "We don' wanna worry Uncle too much by bein' out too late." He protectively wraps his arm across Marnie's shoulder, making sure she doesn't run off. Last thing he needs is for his adventurous sister to wander off in an unfamiliar city.

Piers eyes the GPS map on his rotom phone, following the directions to the Driftveil city gym. Eventually the sibling duo make it to the front, and look up at the large building in awe.

"Wow... sure is pretty." The teen comments, craning her head upward at the decorated gym, "I wonder if it's made outta the materials they mined up?"

Piers shrugs, "Prob'ly. Now, le's get inside already, we gotta rolycoly t'check on."

[apurekindness]

@shchvnts

"You should have come to me sooner," she softly admonished, as she eyed the slowly weeping wounds on Trini's arms. She wasn't seriously injured, by any means, but why suffer through the pain for days or weeks when Kiara could heal in a flash?

"Maybe I should come with you next time, if I can't trust you to tell me when you're hurt," she suggested, an eyebrow curving upwards. Kiara didn't enjoy witnessing violence of any kind - even if it was for the greater good - so her offer came from a place of genuine concern. "Now, hold still," she instructed, as she softly pressed her palm to the first of Trini's cuts and felt the familiar warmth of her powers surging down her arm and into her dear friend's injured skin.

[basicxutopia]

It was interesting being back in California. The season had been a long one, Octavian was ready for a few weeks off before it was time to start training for the next NFL season. He wasn’t a superstar by any means, but his closest friends treated him like one. Which, for his ego only boosted him all the more. He was young and hungry to make a name for himself, but he was ready to make an impact. At the very least, it gave him the sort of lifestyle he’d always wanted, wanting for nothing, set up financially for the future, and with a degree on scholarship as a back-up plan. All of that was difficult to trade in for, knowing it would take himself away from Star. They had grown close before he had to move away, keeping in contact through text and facetime occasionally. But none of that took place of actually hanging out in person. Octavian knock on her apartment door, smiling as he did so, finally ready to see her again. He hoped the same sexual energy between them still existed -- it certainly had been there even when they were part from each other, but it was all just harmless flirting. 

@pastelparadiserps​