#//lemme know if anything needs to be changed

[laurentborgiin]

a closed starter for @thcfallenstar when/where: whatever time of day it is, it's entirely the wrong time for Laurent to be that high up in the owlery

As a child, Laurent had been told to get some perspective, to remove his head from acres of books and litres of words, and to look at the world around him. To look, as he had been told, at where the Borgin family stood among it all and how remarkable it was that they were permitted to stand there at all. Get some perspective, Laurent. Well. He was, now more than he ever had before. He just happened to have done so in a way that left his shoes covered in owl droppings.

Not that is particularly mattered. It was a benefit of living so many years in a tower that soared higher than anything else in the castle that Laurent now stood in the open air on that odd little balcony above the owlery and thought, for a moment, if he could conjure a pair of wings, nothing could stop him from taking flight like the birds above him. It was nice. Of course, the sudden appearance of Sirius Black from seemingly nowhere shook Laurent enough to almost send him over the edge.

"Merlin's pants Sirius, a hell of a way to ask a bloke for another dance. Sending him over the edge when he's lost in his own head? You should be wearing a snake instead for that kind of play. What on Earth are you doing here?"

[charliehearted]

a closed starter for @spadcsoface

It was not an easy thing to admit what you'd lost. Perhaps the hardest thing was to admit a loss that came thanks to your own foolish choices. It was an admission that Charlie had been handling for years at this point. Ever since he had first reached an age old enough to understand things like guilt and responsibility it had weighed on Charlie. It weighed heavier now than it had in a long time and it turned his tongue sharper than he would have preferred. "Ace," he greeted, already prepared to turn on his heel and run from that strange boy that might have possibly been Charlie, if Charlie hadn't so terribly messed up, if he had perhaps just been a bit better. "What are you doing here, so near the ship?"

[alecctoccarrow]

a closed starter for @rxskeeter where: a third floor corridor

It is a truth, perhaps only occasionally acknowledged and yet near-universally known, that no place in the world held a greater treasure trove of secrets, regrets, half-formed wishes and ill-gotten dreams that a girls loo. The second best option that didn't tend to involve fourteen-year old girls cooing about a seventeen-year old was wherever Rita Skeeter was, and it was sheer hope at this point that had brought Alecto to the third floor.

Alecto, after all, had a question. It wasn't a particularly important matter, Morgana knows better than to bring that kind of thing to someone like Rita if you still wanted enough time in the day to do literally anything else. Alecto didn't exactly want to spend her entire day talking with Rita Skeeter, and so sacrifices were to be made. Pushing off from the wall she had made her spot for a moment at the sighting of blonde hair.

"Rita," Alecto called out, not bothering to raise her voice, "did you ever find out more about that Evans thing? Oh, never mind all that," she added immediately after, not even pausing, "did you want to hear about my plans for that Quidditch game? I rather imagine they're up your alley"

[angelpuns]

Lil hater Leo in honor of me FINALLY getting out of bed. Idk what happened to me today but I couldn't get out bed for the longest time ;-;

Anyway just like me, Leo also managed to get out of bed. Now, I for the life of me couldn't figure out what I would want someone to say to me in this situation, so I went the silly route. Probably don't actually say this to someone, I genuinely don't know what I would have wanted someone to say if there were anyone for me to apologize too :/

Anyway here's a transcript:

Leo: I'm sorry...I was supposed to cook dinner, but I did nothing all day...

Yuichi: it's okay!

Yuichi: in the wise words of my great-great-great-grandfather...it just be like that!

Leo, thinking: idk why this is making me feel better

Leo: he did NOT say that

Yuichi: he did, I swear

Anyway I once again would not recommend actually saying this and I don't think Yuichi WOULD say this, but I couldn't think of what I would want someone to say so :/

[burdenedchaos]

@xxashes-rebornxx liked for a starter

A glamour sat snuggly against the Trickster's skin, shifting features into something that wasn't quite Loki. The illusionary magic had traded black hair for brunette, shortening it to something of a spiky crop; had twisted and turned up his usual nose into a snub. Normal concealer blended a neat little line around his lips, hiding away the multitude of scars that lay there--the old wounds something his magic was not capable of touching or altering. Casual clothing decorated his lanky frame--black, ripped jeans paired with a graphic tee with an amusing quip regarding bisexuality. A golden chain jingled and swayed at his hip, a small replica of Mjolnir sitting there to mock. Painted nails wrapped around a disposable cup of vanilla chai but he made no move to drink it. Feigning casualness, slumping just so slightly in the outdoor seat of the plucky little cafe that the tea had been purchased from, looking this way and that as if waiting for the arrival of a late companion. The action gave him an excuse to keep his gaze on a swivel because...someone was watching him.

Someone had been watching him with too close a gaze for a casual stranger for longer than he was comfortable with and a part of him feared that someone from Asgard had stumbled upon the life he had carved for himself here. Meant to upheave it and drag him back to the realm that he had thrown himself to the very void to avoid. They'd be severely disappointed if they thought he would go quietly. No, he would go like a feral dog. Barring his teeth and going for the jugular, if it came to it. Biting and ripping what he could.

Fingers drummed against the plastic lid of his drink before lifting it to his lips, squinting suspiciously at a red-haired stranger who seemed to be closer than she'd been only moments before.

Bingo.

Diving into his pocket, his free hand pulled out his cellular device and swiped a complicated pattern against the screen to unlock it as his eyes darted down to continue his performance of awaiting a friend who wasn't coming.

[voraciouslyindulgent]

@flightofthestarscream

Upon first glance from the front viewing platform of the Peaceful Tyranny, Tarn already knew this was not the Cybertron he'd resided upon for many years. He could not see any immediate sign of large, functional cities, and the planet itself seemed dark, desolate, its surface devoid of grand, towering structures. He hesitated in approaching. There was little purpose in visiting a Cybertron in ruins. It could even be dangerous, depending on who inhabited the wreckage, if there were any occupants left on the planet at all.

Thus, he decided to keep the Tyranny in orbit, and set the ship to drift around Cybertron. The quantum engine required several hours to cool from a recent jump, and he had more than enough fuel to sustain himself and his vehicle for much more than that time. He watched the planet, which, by all appearance, looked completely dead. Out of curiosity, he pinged the surface with the ship's central console, and wondered if there were any Decepticon stragglers in need of transport.

::Salutations. This is Tarn of the Decepticon Justice Division. All hail the Empire. Pax per tyrannidem.:: He said by way of greeting. ::Does anyone upon this world, comrades in particular, receive this message?::

[darcyxpalmer]

status: closed with @akhilaasthana where: along the streets of the bungalows

Maybe if she just gotten home, these hornets would leave her alone - at least that was Darcy's thought process. If she could just hide away, they'd leave her be.

She managed to sneak away from them for now and if she was just quiet enough, she could make it.

She was really close, when she turned the corner and basically ran right into Akhila. "Shit, shit, sorry, are you-- are you okay? No hornets chasing you?" she asked, looking around immediately, but they were in the clear, at least for now.

[arcane-appetence]

@grumpyascianteddybear

It was always a good day when he was several steps ahead of the Mortales Coven. For centuries, his father's family, the Howard Coven had been locked in a bitter battle with the Mortales Coven. Warlocks pitted against Warlocks, witches stripped of their magic by other witches. It never seemed to end, and like his father before him, Liam had been drawn into the fray when the bastards decided to go after his own twin sister and their younger cousins.

His girls were perfectly capable of handling themselves of course - Liam was all for Women Empowerment - but there was an innate urge to protect that no matter how tainted or bloody his soul got, he would always step in with a helpful hand. Or shadows.

Word had reached his ears that the Mortales were now trying to recruit others to their cause and well, he certainly couldn't have that. Being a thorn in their side was always a joy and if he could thwart Zeidan Mortales' plans in anyway, then it was a good day. This particular target of theirs, according to his reports, was a young woman who had a particular brand of magic. Now, while curiosity may have killed the cat, it certainly had a hard time with him. Liam knew how to blend in with the darkness, which made it easier for him to track the woman down. He would investigate for a while, keep out of sight and if it was determined that she was indeed being targeted by the Mortales' then he would step in.

When he found her, he certainly wasn't expect to find her holed up in some abandoned warehouse on the wrong side of town. 'They trying to recruit fuckin kids now?' he grumbled as he kept himself in the shadows, silently watching and observing. Everything appeared to be fine... up until he heard the unmistakable sound of Zeidan's hellhounds closing in on the girl.

[brokendreamscreation-moved]

@the-devil-less-known liked for a starter!)

What were the chances of Lucid running into the literal Devil? The man his Father had created in his predecessors image, to fill the empty seat the fallen angel left when cast out from Heaven. The seraphim was meandering the streets of Hell adorned in his sinner disguise, curious of this forbidden world that angels were not allowed to visit.

He couldn’t help but stare at the King, as if this really could not be real. While others around them seemed too preoccupied with their own business, the seraphim stood out like a sore thumb even in his illusion to look like a sinner. His spade tail swished side-to-side like an alert cat. Dare he approach? Or just observe?

[mc-adarsh]

CLOSED STARTER for @zaidshair location: AT THE FOREST NEAR THE WATER timestamp: POST-EVENT02

Power was everything. And Adarsh's healing ability certainly proved to be everything he'd hoped from discovering he had a super power himself. Something to focus on. Beyond his daily search for answers on who he was. It was... almost intoxicating. This new thing. But he was beginning to get restless within the medi-centre, and people weren't in dire need of someone with awesome healing abilities.

Maybe he could find someone who would willingly cut themself so Adarsh could heal them. He doubted it, but he was happy to be out of the building.

Roaming first the camp, then the forest, he wasn't new to finding people doing all kinds of sports or activities to calm their nerves.

Zaid meditating was a new one. He was still far enough that he had to shout, and that wouldn't be kind to anyone who was meditating, but he couldn't help it, he was too restless, too fired up, too eager to distract himself from the big questions that were still out there: who was he? "I didn't think you were the sort to meditate!"

[junowritings]

Going absolutely feral over @gregorsmissingarmor's ocs/insert bc they're all GORGEOUS so ofc I had to doodle em.

Your art is literally scrumptious and has me doing laps round my house every time it crosses my dash thank you for letting me draw them!!! I hope I did them all justice 🧡🧡🧡

[purgatored]

STATUS : closed for @ludics ! LOCATION : inside benny's diner !

" YOU MUST BE REAL BUSY NOW, HUH ?" the question is blatantly rhetorical . cherry's brows raise with it as she looks at him . " without kina to cover for you or whatever ." a shrug . " that must fucking suck . i mean, a lot of things fucking suck right now ." cherry allows, her brow arching . " but that must fucking suck for you ." cherry moves to take a sip of her milkshake to punctuate the words, studying him almost curiously from where she sits at the diner's counter . she puts down her glass before adding a blunt, " although, it overall seems like a pretty shitty business to be busy in, i'm not going to lie to you ." if cherry was honest she mostly only started the conversation because they were the only two people in here, and well, cherry never did well with boredom . especially not now, with the doom and gloom of it all settling over the town like a heavy blanket . no, cherry needed distractions and a lot of them . she was pretty sure this conversation might give her at least ten minutes of that if nothing else . so cherry turns to face him then, the diner's counter digging into the small of her back as she almost boredly asks, " ... you like your job or what ?"

[angclnumber]

CLOSED STARTER FOR : @heroexxs !

" YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME ." the words are near deadpan as she looks up to see who's entered the office only to lay her eyes on perhaps the last person she wanted to see . also the last person she was expecting to see , truly . after all, it was the weekend . " what in the world are you doing here on a saturday, maxine ?"

[flxshy]

@cervidae-demon

"You seem the most annoyed in this hotel. Can you make me a Champaign and tell me about it?"

[truly-quirkless]

[@themultiversebundle | Plotted in DMs!]

It had been a rather quiet day, yet again..so Fin and Yagi had decided to walk about town. The tall blond still got a few odd stares, and every now and again, someone would walk up wanting an autograph. It had taken the world time to get used to Yagi as he was now- and while the whispers of 'the Symbol of the Dead' weren't exactly welcome...it was better that than All for One in the streets.

"What do you say to dropping by Smoothie King before we head back to the school?" Yagi's suggestion hadn't been in the air for more than a second when he bumped into something- or rather, someone. He took a stumbling step back, his smile instantly transforming to apologetic as he raised his hands. "Ah- sorry about that! I didn't mean to bump into you."

Huh....Fin wasn't exactly the best at Heroes, but this one...didn't look familiar. They'd seen a few ever since their rise in Hero society, but they had yet to see one that looked so...robotic? It wasn't like Ingenium or his younger brother, Ida- this felt...different.

Their eyes flickered towards the nearby store the stranger had stepped out of- revealing an interior beyond the door that very much wasn't what could be seen through the glass. They immediately jumped towards it- but the door slammed closed before they could catch it.

"Shit...!"

[starcunin]

closed starter | @faebhaal

The fire crackles softly in the heart of the camp, its embers casting a warm, flickering glow that struggles to reach the edges of the encroaching darkness. The night is deep, a blanket of velvety black pierced by the cold light of distant stars. The others have long since fallen asleep, leaving Astarion alone with his thoughts, the quiet murmur of the night, and the ever-present hum of his hunger.

His mind races, a remnant of the nightmare that dragged him from the fragile peace of sleep. Cazador’s voice echoes in his mind, a haunting litany of rules that once bound him so tightly: Thou shalt not drink of the blood of thinking creatures. Thou shalt obey me in all things. The phantom weight of those commands makes his chest tighten, his throat constrict as though the very air refuses to pass. He’s free, isn’t he? The tadpole allowed him to break all the other rules, why not Cazador’s? Yet those words, etched into his psyche like the scars on his back, linger—unshakable, undeniable.

He sits up, pressing his hand to his forehead, trying to push away the lingering terror. But it’s not just fear that gnaws at him tonight. It’s hunger. The gnawing, ravenous hunger that never truly leaves him, that has only worsened since the night he drained that unfortunate boar. The taste had been ash in his mouth, unsatisfying and stale. His fangs throb with the need for something more.

And then there’s her. Ithaca. She sleeps just a few feet away, her small form curled under a thin blanket. In the pale light of the fire, her dusky orchid skin glows faintly, her rose-colored hair spilling like liquid dusk across her pillow. Those delicate features, so deceptively innocent in repose, belie the truth of her nature—violent, monstrous, and utterly captivating. He remembers the way she kicked that squirrel, the casual cruelty in it, the way her eyes had sparkled with something feral afterward. It had intrigued him, but it is her scent that now drives him to madness. She smells like honey and fresh flowers, like the very essence of spring, like sunlight captured in a bottle, sweet and golden and utterly irresistible.

He moves without thinking, a shadow slipping through the night, soundless, predatory. He finds himself standing over her, his breath catching in his throat as he gazes down at her peaceful face. She is beautiful, in a way that shouldn’t be possible for something so tainted, so damned. But it’s not just her beauty that draws him—it’s the hunger, the desperate need to know if he can. If the chains Cazador bound him with are truly broken. If he can sink his fangs into her soft flesh, taste that sweetness.

He leans down, closer, until he can feel the warmth radiating from her body, the subtle rise and fall of her chest. His fangs ache, his throat burns, and he is so close, so close he can almost taste her on the air. Just a taste, he tells himself. Just enough to know. His lips part, his fangs bared, and then her eyes snap open, violet rings burning against the darkness.

❛ Shit. ❜ The word slips out before he can stop it, as he jerks back, the spell broken. Fear, anger, and the remnants of his hunger twist inside him as he straightens, trying to regain some semblance of composure. But his dead heart races, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like a fool.